#nothing to do but get away from whoever the person with the shadow is

[multishipper-baby]

I don't think Eze has any special powers aside from being able to see and speak to shadows, but I do think he occasionally pretends he does when dealing with shadows that are particularly annoying or rowdy.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

reckless

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, male receiving oral, aged up!rafe (28), age gap (reader is 20), reader kinda dumb and stupid tbh, breaking and entering but actually technically she didnt break anything so just entering, urban exploring

“stay away from that house.” your friend warns, following your eyesight to get light shining from only one window, the rest of the house covered in shadow.

“why?” you question, curiosity growing.

“some asshole lives there. i guess he got real rich when he was young and now he spends all his time inside hiding. the whole island hates him but nothing he did was bad enough to land him in prison…” your friend gives you a serious look. “or at least nothing they can prove.”

you're new to the outer banks, but she already knows your personality. you're defiant and confident, afraid of nothing.

it's why despite her warnings the next night you're scaling up the fence and hopping over to the other side. you note the well taken care of yard, whoever this guy is must still employ a lawn crew.

you keep your footsteps light but unhurried as you walk around the exterior of the enormous house, still just the one window with a light on, like no one else has been in any other part of the home for a long time.

you figure a house like this might have security, but you live only a block away and would certainly get to your house before any cops would show up.

you peer in a few windows, but it's too dark inside to really make out anything. you make your way into the backyard, looking down the long dock to see a yacht. you consider exploring that first before shaking your head and focusing back in on the house.

in your old city, you had a habit of breaking into places. not to steal or damage anything, just for the thrill of getting in and looking around, knowing you're not supposed to be there.

you peer in through the glass doors. it's not that late, only 11pm, but you figure the old man who lives here must already be upstairs and hopefully asleep as you grip the handle.

you wait to hear an alarm from just your touch, but when the house remains silent, you attempt to turn the handle, surprised and happy that it's completely unlocked as you slide it open.

you step into the living room, looking around at the intricate and clearly expensive decorations. your friend was definitely right about this guy being rich, but of course he is if he lives in a neighborhood like this.

“damn.” you mutter to yourself, stepping closer to a fancy vase sat on a table. you purposely leave the glass door open in case you need to make a quick escape out.

your eyes take in every piece of art hung on the wall and gold detailed lamps as you head further into the house, peeking into rooms as you quickly map out the layout. you note the stairs in the center hallway leading up, able to tell there's one light on and deciding quickly to avoid it.

you make like the rush of breaking into places, but you certainly don't like getting caught as you tiptoe into the kitchen next. out of pure curiosity, you open a couple cabinets to find them well stocked.

you focus in on the fridge next. you don't intend to steal but maybe this guy has a couple bottles of beer that won't be missed.

you frown when you realize it's mostly healthy food and energy drinks as you close the fridge, practically jumping out of your skin when you realize there's a tall man with his arms crossed, leaning against the cabinet.

“what are you doing here?” you yell, backing up and putting the island between you and him.

“bold of you to ask me that considering you're the one breaking into my house.” the man's voice is easy going and gentle despite the circumstances.

“your house?” you look the guy up and down. “i thought the guy who lived here was old.”

he moves to the island, placing himself directly in the middle so you can't bolt away, a movement you're very aware of.

“and what made you think that?” he questions. it's hard to tell in the low light, only the faint glow of buttons on the fridge and a bit of moonlight creeping in, but he looks young. your guess is late 20s or early 30s, not like the senior citizen you were picturing.

“my friend told me some asshole-” you cringe at the bad choice of words but continue on. “lives here who got rich when he was young.”

“hm, yeah that does sound like me.” the guy hums. “so what, you were gonna steal from me?”

“no.” you quickly shake your head. “i don't steal, i have no need. i just… like urban exploring.” you decide on saying.

“mmm, isn't that usually exploring abandoned places?” he questions, somehow still carrying on the conversation so naturally, like you're an invited guest rather than a trespasser.

“i thought this place was basically abandoned. like i said, thought you were old.” you shrug.

“well, im only 28, so if you consider that old.” he crosses his arms, muscles bulging.

“im 20.” you say, swallowing thickly. 

you can see the gleam in the man's teeth as he smiles. “interesting… come with me.”

his command is so effortless, you find your feet moving before your mind catches up, following him deeper into the house and up the stairs.

“what are you going to do with me?” you ask, worrying he's going to call the cops. your parents would be pissed if only a week after they move you out of the big city you get arrested again.

“did your friend happen to tell you why i stay in this house?” he hums, opening a door and beckoning you in. you quickly realize this is the bedroom with the lights always on.

“um, just that you did something and no one likes you.”

“that's exactly right, even though i did nothing wrong. i only ever wanted to protect my family.” you see anger briefly take over his features as he relieves whatever memory that made him so hated. “but still, it's hard being lonely.”

he takes a couple steps forward, swinging the door shut behind him to keep the two of you in there, alone. “it's why id like your company…”

“y/n.” you mumble your name. you don't bother to give a fake name.

“y/n.” the name rolls seamlessly off his tongue, like a purr. “im rafe.”

“what do you mean by company, rafe?” now that you're in the light and can get a good look at him, you're hoping it's what you're thinking.

“isn't it obvious?” he quirks his head to the side. “i want you to sleep with me.”

“okay.” you whisper. you're certainly not inexperienced or against sleeping with random guys, even if your friend did warn you about him. you've already gone two whole weeks without getting anything, and you're starting to feel a little high strung.

“perfect.” rafe crosses past you, placing himself on the edge of the. neatly made bed. “undress.”

his command is once again so simple and effective that your hands begin moving instantly, pulling off your tank top to reveal your bright pink bra before sliding your shorts down next to show off the matching underwear.

you turn your back towards rafe and look over your shoulder as you slide your panties down, revealing your bare ass and pussy before kicking off your sandals. 

you walk over to rafe slowly, a smile on your face as you undo the last piece of clothing covering you and let your bra drop to the floor.

“fuck, you're sexy.” rafe leans forward and grabs you, hands gripping your ass, squeezing the plump flesh there. he doesn't bother to wait for you to recover as he sits you onto his lap, cunt being pressed into his thigh as his mouth devours yours.

you can feel his need in the kiss, how starved he is from touch as you begin to kiss back, hands rubbing all over his front.

you only briefly stop the kiss to yank his shirt off. you're not surprised by his muscles, you could tell how perfectly built he was even in the dark kitchen.

rafe begins to slide your pussy against his pants, wetting his thigh as your clit drags against the material.

“fuck, you're already so wet.” rafe moans into your mouth. you don't pause to tell him that you always get a little bit wet in excitement when breaking into a new place.

“let me blow you.” you slide off, already missing the feeling on your pussy as you pull at rafes pants. he lifts his hips to help you and you waste no time, pulling his underwear down as well.

rafes cock pops up, hard and ready for attention. you push his thighs open with your hands so you can nestle between his legs, smiling as you watch a bead of precum from before licking it clean.

“god.” rafe groans, a hand fisting in your hair, tangling his fingers into the strands. “it's been so long since someone else has touched me.”

you feel bad for rafe in that moment, but it's quickly forgotten in favor of wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and giving it an intense suck, wanting to show him a truly good time.

you begin to bob your head, slowly taking more and more of his length into your mouth. he's not the biggest you've ever gotten with, but his girth certainly makes up for it as you get used to him pushing at the walls of your throat.

you'll certainly need more attention to your pussy to be able to take him as you reach down and rub your fingers against your clit, wanting to jump on his cock the second you're done blowing him.

“how are you only 20?” rafe asks, talking mostly to himself considering your mouth is occupied. “you suck dick so well.”

you don't want to comment that you've had lots of experience, but you have a feeling he won't judge you for it. so many guys sleep around yet want every girl to be a virgin, and that's certainly something you don't subscribe to.

with a final push, you're able to take rafe all the way down as you nuzzle your nose into his skin, gagging slightly but able to hold for a decently long time before you need to pull off to take a deep breath.

“come up here, baby.” rafe says, tugging your hand that isn't still playing with your pussy. “want to fuck you.”

you wipe your mouth before standing up, glad you weren't on your knees for long as you move onto the bed.

“fuck me good, daddy.” you purr out, staying on your hands and knees and swaying your ass to entice rafe as he moves behind you.

“oh, i will baby.” rafe rubs his cock through your folds, not bothering to offer to put on a condom when you so clearly don't care.

rafe teases you, pressing slightly against your entrance before going back to rubbing against you until you're frustrated and aching. you're about to open your mouth to complain, to tell him to hurry it up, when his cock plunges inside of you in one quick motion that has you screaming out.

“oh, fuck!” you squeal as rafe instantly begins pounding into you.

rafe smiles as he looks towards the window, slightly cracked. he hopes the neighbors hear your screams and moans of pleasure and learn that he's not just willing to stay inside for the rest of his life. no, rafe is crafting his revenge against the town and when the time comes, they will all regret the way they treated him.

rafe looks down at you as he thrusts into you, your head hung forward and curls bouncing with every movement as he punishes your cunt.

“shit.” rafe groans, pulling out to quickly flip you onto your back.

his mouth meets yours just as his cock reenters you, kissing you wildly while he thrusts without abandon, letting himself loose on you.

rafe can feel himself swelling inside of you and tries his best to hold back from cumming, fingers reaching to your clit to focus on your pleasure before his own, wanting to extend this as long as possible.

“god, you feel so good.” you moan out, jaw slackened even as rafe continue to kiss around your mouth, eyes glossed over in pure pleasure.

“yeah?” rafe smiles. “you gonna cum for me?”

“mhm. keep- keep rubbing.” you tilt your head back as he swipes over your clit, back and forth, building you up while his cock fills out your insides.

“come on, baby.” rafe moans out, kissing you again, unable to stop even though he wants to hear your moans. his hips move faster and faster until he can't hold back anymore, pulling out and releasing all over your stomach in long ropes.

you squeal out as he pinches your clit, triggering your own orgasm as your entire body shakes, back arching off the bed.

“fuck!” you shout. “rafe!”

you both flop against the mattress, breathing heavily as you recover, pussy dripping wet onto his blankets.

“thanks for the company.” rafe smiles, causing you to laugh.

“yeah, always happy to stick around.” you giggle, leaning into his side. there's certainly no shame cuddling up to him after what you just did.

“would you… would you come back tomorrow?” rafe asks, pushing a strand of hair off where it was sticking to your face.

“first week in a new town and i already found myself a fuck buddy? hell yeah ill come back tomorrow.” you kiss rafe quickly before standing up off his bed, putting your tanktop and shorts back on but leaving your wet panties and bright bra on the floor.

“but have pizza, im a classy girl after all, i only let you fuck me once before buying me dinner.” you walk out of the bedroom to rafes deep chuckle.

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄… | xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/Deltanpopo on twitter ! ❀

[ A coy thing, you are, daring to lie to them about your wellbeing. ]

— "I'm alright."

A scoff leaves XIAO's lips at your swift words, his mouth curling into a sneer, one absent of a smirk. His arms crossed over his chest, dark shadows cast over his eyes. "Come again?"

His glare was intense - dangerous, its malice not directed towards you, but instead to whatever had made you like... this. You could shield your form from his piercing gaze all you wanted. It'd do nothing to deter him. The knowledge he held of your character, the way your voice gave the slightest tremor, and the way your eyes slipped from his own... he let out a noise of annoyance.

"As I said, Xiao. I'm fine."

You were't a good liar. At least, from his knowing view. Unacceptable. His lashes fluttered as his eyes narrowed. Was he not reliable enough for the truth? Why was it that you'd refuse his assistance while you were clearly suffering?

"No." His voice was decisive, cold, but not in the manner of harsh, unforgiving ice, but the morning frost that bloomed on the dewy stalks of riverside reeds. "You aren't."

He felt your gaze pause at his lips, yet did not rise to meet his own. Your own mouth quivered, just the slightest, and you downcast eyes that glistened flicked their attention to the ground. "Xiao, I..."

You voice trails off. There's no need to say more. For you stood, enveloped in the adeptus' rare embrace, his pale skin cool, yet sparking an unquenchable warmth within your chest.

"If you aren't okay, that's okay. I'll just have to hold you in my arms, until you are." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

A laugh escapes CHILDE's parted lips, a rather empty sound that resounded in your silence. It continues for a couple brief moments. "Ah, you're kidding, right?" He breaks into a smile that fades at the lack of your response. "Right?"

"Why would I be kidding?" You sighed, trying to sound as exasperated as possible. "I'm serious, Childe. I said I was fine." His gaze bore into you, to the point where you could feel your body smolder under his eyes. You shouldn't look at him now. Pursing your lips, you strengthened your resolve, but a moment of weakness upon hearing his shallow laughter was all it took to glance upwards. To meet his gaze.

A grave mistake, you had just unwittingly committed.

Before you could turn your head away, Childe's hand's caught you, one of them grabbing onto your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. "Say," his voice was low, quiet. A telltale sign of the anger that simmered underneath. "When did you get the notion that you'd be allowed to lie to me, and then get away with it scot-free, huh?"

The moment he had met your fleeting gaze, eyes locked onto yours, your verdict had been decided. Guilty. "Childe, it wasn't that I..."

"Oh, is it something you can't tell me, then?" His voice was softer now, but not in a threatening way, eyes melting with concern. Yes as much as he'd love to get at whatever - or whoever had made you so upset, he had a higher task of importance as of now. And that was to comfort the person before him, tentative under his touch. He slowly released his hold on your chin, instead giving your hair a ruffle that caused your locks to fly in disarray. "If so, then I won't push you anymore."

"I've... I've just had a really long day and-"

Your words lost their sound as instead, warmth replaced the quiet. Childe held you in his arms, delicately, like you were made of porcelain, and the slightest touch would shatter you. For someone as brash as him, to now stay silent, letting you let out all the world's concerns in his embrace...

"I won't say anything, alright? Just let it all out, and I'll listen." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

At first, SCARAMOUCHE almost looks offended at your words. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are drawn into a scowl. "What, care to repeat that? It's funny how you think you're fooling anyone."

It takes a moment to find your voice again, with how intense his eyes stare into you - indigo, flashing with electro power. Mesmerizing, dangerous, lethal if you drew too close. It didn't matter you supposed, you had already been in his reach for far longer than you cared to admit, and you had yet to be burnt away. "...I'm alright, nothing happened."

This time, your answer drew a startling laugh that bubbled from deep within him, a carnal yet almost melodious sound that flowed like water and blazed like flames. "Ah, that's funny. You've been hanging around the other Fatui, haven't you?" His gaze narrowed in distaste. "Disgusting, all of them. And from the likes of it, you've been picking up some nasty habits as well. Speaking nothing but the truth to me should be a given, yet you're saying such things without the slightest guilty conscience... I couldn't help but laugh!"

Guilty conscience my ass. Of course it took something out of you to lie to your.. lover. Yes, despite it all, Scaramouche was the one you were joined hands with - even in the male didn't act like it. Or perhaps he did, in a world of his own masked away in a guise behind a guise. His spark just drew you closer.

"Scara, you wouldn't understand...!" Don't get aggravated, keep your voice composed, steady. "It's... it's something personal, alright? I just.. I just don't want to talk about it right now. Give me time, please."

Please? His maniacal expression dimmed as he paused, just a brief moment. He hadn't hurt you, had he? No, you knew him well, well enough to know that that was just the person he was, didn't you? "...So it was like that?" He tried to hide his apologetic expression with a hand over the lower half of his face, but his eyes glistened regardless.

"Ah, just forget about it. If you're hurting, then... Come here, all right? I'll humor you, just for tonight." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) okay okay so. i. im gonna try and post a fic every day this week. spoiler alert: its fucking exam week BUTBUT BUT im so close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be so silly if we could hit it before new years!! that's why im gonna be listening to burnout playlists while typing away like my life depends on it.// wish me luck on my exams ahah. theyre tommorrow.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[winkwonkwankwenk]

Jealousy alastor headcanons?? Like what does it for him and how he acts? Please?

Jealous Alastor Head-cannons!!

It doesn't take much to make him jealous, the fact that other men breathe the same air as you is enough to annoy him. He normally can keep himself calm, but if one moves an inch too close his voice will glitch and that's their warning.

"You're oddly cozy with them, Y/N." He'll sneer if you ever mention the person around him. He's not looking for validation, he knows you aren't interested in anyone else, he just wants to make it known he's aware of your little friend and they better stay as that and nothing more.

What are you doing with them? Where? Why? Can he tag along? If you say no, he'll just follow you from the shadows. Who's so important you're with them instead of him? He gets possessive, cling even.

Will leave doodles of whoever you're hanging out with dead out in the open when they're around, just to watch the panic on their face. "What? I was feeling creative."

P. E. T. T. Y. He'll do things just to get your attention like bump into you on "accident" or death glare at who you're talking to until they walk away. Don't even bother lecturing him about it, he'll just give you a satisfied smirk because at least you're only focused on him now.

If you're gone for too long you'll turn around to him looming over you. He'll have his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and smile a bit too low. "How long are you going to be occupied?" He's asking to be polite, he's going to whisk you away from whatever (or whoever) you're distracted by.

Complains to Rosie about whoever has you distracted and also learns everything about them from her through gossip. He's better than an FBI agent, knowing them inside and out- he learned their allergies out of curiosity and definitely not to trigger them.

Did they just touch you? They'll wake up fingerless. He only keeps them alive because you're so fond of them. How annoying. He'll give them a few more chances before getting rid of them for good, but the moment he hears a single compliment that's a bit too passionate they've got to go.

Will casually gaslight you if you ask if he hurt them. "Darling, I'd never do anything to hurt you." He'll say while holding his bloody hands behind his back. It's not a lie, manipulation? Sure. It's for your own good. You're better off without them.

Hides their body under your floorboards so he can give it to you as a birthday gift. What's better than closure?

Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!! I have an ongoing Alastor x Reader fic right now that updates weekly!

Join my discord!!

Requests open!!

[robin374]

alastor x daughter reader angst If you do, you will be very happy. The reader does not know that he is his father and when he finds out, Alastora will be very angry. PLSSSS

ehem thanks <3

𝔊𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔪𝔢

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 : Alastor x Reader, platonic

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: Hola. I got too carried away sorry if it's too long. BRUH I JUST FINISHED AND I PASSED THE WORD LIMIT, let me just do a part 2 LMAO

Back when you were alive, you were an orphan. You couldn't remeber who your parents were, but you were angry. You were angry at everything and everyone, if they didn't love you when you were born why didn't they kill you? Was it necessary to abandon you? You didn't want to meet them and start over again as a happy family like your friends at the orphanage dreamed. You wanted to meet them so you could make sure you never talked to them again. Then, when you died, you wandered around Hell. You didn't exactly have a house, you just strolled around the city, maybe even killing someone to let your rage out. For someone who had deer resemblace you were quite agressive, to be honest.

You had died young, in your 17th birth to be exact. You bumped into a group of drunk men, they were drunk enough to pick a fight against whoever crossed paths with them, and you happened to be there. You just didn't survive. You may had born crying knowing nothing about life, but you died with that youth rage and you blamed it on your unknown parents.

One day, you were sitting on the floor reading a book you stole time ago when someone stopped in front of you. You didn't lift your head, you just flicked your gaze to the black dressing shoes and red pants that the person was wearing. "What do you want." You didn't ask, you demanded. "I...I have been informed that you were alone and homeless. So, I've decided to give you a room at my hotel, The Hazbin Hotel!" It was a girl's voice, the Princess of Hell's voice. You recognized her from seeing her singing around the streets not long ago. "Why would I want to go there?" You asked closing the book and putting it inside your bag. "It's just a hotel with a porn star and a pathetic victorian snake. I would prefer to sleep next to a rat with rabies than that, so, thank you but no, thank you." You started to walk away from her, you didn't even want to see her face. You knew you just had been mean to Lucifer's daughter, but she didn't even seem like it. You scratched a spot near your antlers, since you became a demon you didn't manage to get used to them. Then, a shadow appeared out of nowhere and it transformed into a tall man, who smiled at you.

"Now, that's not the best way to talk to someone, sweetheart." He said, his voice was accompanied with a stereophonic effect, it sounded like the radio you used to have in your room when you were alive. "Do I know you?" You said as you straightened your back to look more challenging. He just laughed, which clearly offended you a bit. "You should."

How did he manage to smile for so long? You couldn't remeber the last time your lips drew a genuine smile on your face. You were always with a frown on your face, angry, furious. "You seem to be quite the rebel, aren't you?" He said and before he ruffled your hair you flinched away. "Don't touch me." You hissed. "Ooh the fawn is angry," he laughed causing you to frown even more. "Where is your mother? Did a hunter shoot her?" He smiled even more -if that was even possible- you clenched your teeth and your ears curved downwards, you were trying so hard to not to hit him right then and there, who did he think he was? "Okay, let's calm down. How about you come to my hotel, stay one night and then you decide if you want to stay or not?" The princess smiled, her smile was kinder. You scoffed, "if that means that you won't bother me anymore, alright." They started walking down the street with you, it was the first time you walked with someone by your side. You expected it to be a silent walk but you were wrong, the blonde girl talked you about how she planned to redeem a lot of demons when she got the proof that they were able to do it.

While you were walking up the hill that led to the hotel, your gaze fell on the radio tower coming out of one side. You didn't pay attention to the strange Zeppelin or the huge letters that spelled 'Hazbin Hotel' you just looked at the radio tower. You heard a radio static near you, you didn't pay attention to it though, thinking that it was the coming for the tower. Once you were inside, you were greeted with more people that you thought. Of course, the porn star Angel Dust was there and wasted no time in flirting with you not even knowing you gender. "Oh you're the quiet type? Let me see what that mouth does, pretty please." He pouted and you raised your brow. If that was what he wanted, he would get it. "Get the fuck away from me." You said, shoving him away. Then, you heard a deep chuckle and you turned to your side, you noticed a black cat with wings laughing at the white spider. He had a bottle in his hand. Charlie, made you greet everyone there, but her brows frowned in confused way the moment she didn't find someone called Nifty.

You were about to walk towards the bar when you hit something with your foot. You heard a high pitched voice laughing and telling you to hit her again. You stepped back from the small woman with a scared face and your ears curved downwards. "Hi! I'm Nifty, I clean." She quickly climbed up your body and stopped at your face, her big eye looking intensely at you, you swore she could read your mind. "You are very young to be dead, what happened to you? Oh! What's your name?" She shook you, she was surprinsingly strong considering her small body. "Tell me everything." She growled. "My name's Y/N." You said, and ignored again the radio static, had it been sounding this whole time?

After greeting everyone, you told Charlie that you wanted to rest and she showed you your room. You closed the door and let your body fall in the bed. Even though you didn't want to admit it, you had the feeling that this couldn't be as bad as you thought. It had an old-fashioned aura that made you feel at home, somehow. You hadn't felt like this for a long time, you were always running away from demons that wanted to kill you, harass you, make a deal with you... You were at peace here.

PART 2 HERE

I AM SO SORRY

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Can I request ACOTAR poly bats x mate reader? Who got killed if you don't write that the reader just got injured badly? Thank you!

Injury HC (ft. poly!mates Bat Boys)

While I love me some heavy angst, I just couldn't bring myself to kill off mate reader even if its just for a hc 😭😅

Warnings: lots of mentions of blood, wounded/dying!reader, polyamorous mates, injuries, healing, angst and fluff, ft. mor, ft. amren, ft. madja, ft. wraiths

woof where to begin

it would be damn near impossible for any of them to think rationally at the sight of blood coming from you, not their beloved who should only be full of smiles and laughter

bat boys become overbearing if you even get a papercut

But this. . . this was something else entirely.

So much blood that they feel sick from the rusty smell of it that permeated the air.

You looked so small and broken; Rhys has already come up with a thousand ways to kill whoever did this to you. You were their beautiful, proud, cunning mate.

The first one to make a move toward your body would be Rhysand. Always rational under pressure as Azriel and Cassian look around in case there was an ambush by the enemy. He feels sick to his stomach the entire time he's checking your vitals. When his fingers make contact with your blood soaked head, the sticky substance felt white hot. Rhysand could wash his hands millions of times and still feel that searing sting of your blood on his skin.

When they finally get you safely to Madja, you do manage to regain some consciousness, enough to reach out and grab Azriel's hand as everyone was leaving the operating room. Its difficult to move your lips to speak but you manage to plead for Azriel to stay. His shadows always soothed you.

There's no rest for Rhysand or Cassian unfortunately.

Despite Mor and Amren's best efforts, they can't drag your other two mates away from the door.

Rhysand being constantly updated by Azriel through his thoughts and shadows

Cassian tried not to let dark possibilities into his head. They banged against the door of his mind, loud and clear. If you died. . .

"She won't die." Rhysand would tell him sharply. He couldn't lose hope. But the steady smell of your blood that refused to lessen worried Rhysand greatly.

For Azriel, he was forced to stand there at your side as Madja did her best to put you back together. He refused to look away. There was absolutely nothing he could do to help.

He furiously clenches and unclenches his hands. Angry with himself for not being enough to protect you.

In the wee hours of the morning, Mor finds Rhysand and Cassian slumped together asleep. She put a blanket around them and takes a seat to join them in awaiting news. Amren soon follows suit once she has risen from bed by worry.

Finally, Azriel emerges into the waiting room.

Cass and Rhys leap from their seats

You're alive, although incredibly weak.

Madja had to bind and fix your bones while also trying to stop your bleeding. The most important thing was that you would live with some major scarring.

For the next several months, you acquired three overbearing nurses.

Not that you were complaining.

They only allowed Madja to tend to you and that was just during your checkups. Even the Wraiths' cooking was monitored by one of the bat boys.

Azriel and Rhysand had the tenderest hands when they changed your bandages or moved you around so you wouldn't get bed sores.

When you were well enough, Cassian would carry you to the outside garden so you could enjoy the warmth of the sun personally. You'd sit on his lap with your head resting on his chest. You liked listening to him talk as your ear was pressed close to his heart.

You had to tell them to shut up a few times because of how often they would apologize to you about letting you get hurt. It wasn't their fault, you'd argue to deaf ears. This was actually motivation for you. To remedy this and prevent getting hurt this badly ever again, you'd have to train more. Get stronger so your mates wouldn't blame themselves for you getting hurt in their absence.

Rhysand may be the only one who doesn't coddle you during any kind of physical therapy. He's one for tough love. Cassian too. Poor Az is utterly helpless.

Oh, you're out of breath? Let me carry you, sweetling. Rhys and Cass being too difficult? I'll give them a talking to.

Once fully healed thanks to your bat boys, you feel stronger and better than ever.

[foone]

I'm surprised there's not more supernatural spaceship media. Like, your average little cargo ship is jumping around the outer rim trying to cut some time off their delivery route and they pick up a distress call, so they have to answer it.

(under a readmore cause this got a little longer than I expected)

They warp in to the approximate coordinates and there's a colony ship orbiting a gas giant, stuck in the shadow of it, basically frozen over. It's centuries old, but these sleeper ships from the pre-ftl era were built to last, so it's still broadcasting the SOS. It's not responding to radio, so they need to board it.

Normally this'd just involve turning off the SOS. The ship is clearly dead and not responding to any hails, the crew must be long gone and the reactor is just keeping the SOS going. But this is a sleeper ship, so it's possible there's just no one awake. Stuck in longsleep for god knows how many decades, waiting for someone to stumble on their signal...

So they board it, activate the computer, and it tells them that everyone is dead. The ship launched, and over the 358 years it's been traveling for, every single cryo chamber has been either opened or never had any lifesigns in it in the first place. The last event logged on the computer is 136 years ago, when the acting captain set the ship to orbit this gas giant, and turn on the distress signal. Since then, nothing.

But there's still power on the bridge. There may be something there. So they climb up the decks, passing the grim sight of endless rows of cryochambers lined up like tombstones, all showing red lights of lifesign failure. As they get closer to the bridge, the time of deaths get later. The ones on the first deck were close to the launch date, and the ones near the bridge are nearer to that 136 year ago deadline.

This wasn't a hardware failure. Something killed all these people, one by one, over 220 years.

They get to the bridge. The computers are all powered down, but the power management system is still active. Two of the decks still have their cryochambers powered, but it's the ones that were supposed to be empty. There's no lifesigns in them, so the little computer in the power diagnostic system has been recommending they be turned off to save on energy. Naturally it's been recommending that for three and a half centuries. One of the crew members almost absent-mindedly agrees to the prompt, and those cryochambers deactivate. They were empty anyway, right? The sound of humming from the bridge mostly fades away, as a few hundred cryopods on the deck below power down.

The boarding crew powers off the SOS beacon. They'll alert the authorities to the ship's location when they get to a port, surely someone wants to investigate what went wrong here, or at least do an archeological study. This place is beyond an antique at this point... Wait. What's that?

The power computer says there's still one active power draw, about 1.2 kilowatts, in the captain's quarters. That's too much for a personal computer, but just about right for a single cryo pod. Maybe the captain or someone is still alive? That pod isn't on the network, so they can't see the lifesigns from here.

They head over, and the bulkhead door is still cracked open, with a thick cable running in through the gap in the door. Whoever wired this up clearly didn't have time to correctly reroute the power systems, they just lugged a cryo pod in here and basically ran an extension cord to a nearby terminal.

They pry open the door, and there's a softly glowing cryo pod in the middle of the surprisingly spacious room. It makes some amount of sense, generally on these ships the captain would be the one who has to wake up and deal with any situations that arise, while the rest of the colonists are content to sleep until they reach their new home.

They look in the pod, and there's a man lying there. He's not the captain, though. They saw his photo on the bridge. This is someone else. Some one quite pale and gaunt. Maybe they were suffering malnutrition before they put themselves in the pod?

The pod is softly beeping. It's reactivating, apparently triggered when they opened the door. The pod shows no lifesigns, so it's not worth worrying about, the panel sliding over to reveal merely a well preserved corpse.

And then he smiles. "I'm so glad to see you! When we ran out of food we we're afraid we'd never see another human again. And even through those environment suits, I can tell you're so deliciously human." he licks his lips, and the boarding crew spots his prominent canines.

There's a noise halfway between a howl and a shriek from the floor below. The man in the cryopod leans up his head. "ahh, I see you've woken up my children as well. Marvelous. I hope you brought plenty of friends for us to snack on."

The head of the boarding party lifts her arm to call their ship, tell them to get out of there or drop a torpedo into the colony ship's reactor. Before she can bring it to her face to call, there's a flash of motion. Before she can even realize what's happening, the man(?) in the cryopod is up and holding her wrist away from her face.

As she cries out at the sudden pain, the other members of the boarding party spot movement down the hall. A lot of movement. A wall of thin pale people are running towards the captain's quarters, climbing over each other and pushing each other aside, like a pack of wild wolves who just smelled prey.

The boarding party steps back into the room and slams the emergency close. At least in here they only have to deal with one of those things.

The door hits the cable and bounces off with a loud alarm. It fully opens again, ready to let the hungry mass in.

So... Have you ever noticed how much a cryopod looks like a coffin?

[zykamiliah]

the many ways shen qingqiu loves luo binghe

this was more or less inspired by this post, but because this is gonna be a personal opinion and i don't want to make a thread of it and inadvertently contest with the other two's points, I'm going to make my own post.

so i wanna start saying that "the moment one falls in love" is a trope that's waaaay too overstated. in my opinion. specially because falling in love tends to be something that has to do with romantic love most of the time, and it pretends to establish a sort of timeline, a point of no return, for ships and fictional relationships.

when the stories surrounding the characters are more straightforward, i don't really mind, since it makes sense for there to be an "Oh" moment when the character realizes they are in love. like, we know the moment lbh started to see sqq in a sexual light, and we can roughly add to this that the events of the demon invasion and the nightmare scenario are what sealed the deal for lbh. it helps that he's more honest about his feelings and the sexual awakening had already happened, and we can easily assume that from that point on lbh's feelings have a romantic-sexual side.

it still has other sides... because lbh loves sqq as a shizun, as a parent, and this side of their relationship, the master-disciple and parent-child side, is intrinsic to their dynamic; it's a conflicting element during their prolonged conflict for most of the novel, but at the same time, it's their default when they want to approach each other, it's the "safe zone".

but when it comes to sqq I think it's a much more difficult thing to ask: when does sqq falls in love? when is his Oh moment? Is there one, a conscious realization that he's in love? Can his relationship with lbh be described as "being in love"?

he loved Luo Binghe The Character

—the way a reader loves a favorite character, and fanboyed about him plenty before and after transmigrating. the shadow of what the little sheep he was raising would became was ever-present throughout those first 6 years before their meeting in Jinlan City.

but he loved lbh the character in a fanatical way that wasn't actually real... it was meaningful to him because he liked this fictional character a lot, but it's a safe love from the side of a screen.

he was compelled by lbh the character, by his tragic backstory full of angst, and by the ways lbh the character did things: he "rightfully" took his anger out in the people who'd hurt him and paid back for it tenfold. in a way, sy as a reader was also projecting himself in lbh the character.

in short, he loved the Idea of luo binghe, but not luo binghe as a real person.

he loved Luo Binghe the White Lotus Disciple

—and he loved him like a parent loves a child. yet, as I mentioned, he always kept in mind that this boy would grew up to be a very attractive and sexual man, and thus sqq expected him to have romantic encounters with girls around his age.

i know some people shy away from talking about this because everyone is paranoid about your favorite character being called a pedophile etc etc, but really, sy could be nothing farther from that, and whoever who says that has a very, hmm, wide definition of the word and it's probably just using the buzzword to hate on the character.

the important thing is that, despite sqq being aware that lbh is a potential sexual being and will become very sexually active in the future, he does not in any way sexualize his and lbh's relationship. Like I said, sqq would never abuse his power in that way, and he'd never get it on with someone he sees as a child, his disciple. that lbh is very much viewing their relationship with romantic and sexual lenses is a complete shock for him because of this, along with other reasons and assumptions (that lbh was straight)

the problem here is, precisely, that he treated lbh like a child once, and would go on treating him as a child later, post-holy mausoleum: disregarding lbh's agency, making decisions for him and without asking what lbh wants, since as the parent he obviously Knows Better, and taking responsibility for lbh's "bad behavior". the endless abyss was a decision he made without consulting lbh. he self-detonated because he thought that would be best for everyone, and he intended for his death to (among other things like saving the city and escaping prison) "make up" for his mistakes. in maigu ridge, he almost kills himself again because he thought that would be better for lbh.

he's self-sacrificing, protective, caring, and overall parental/maternal towards lbh, which has it's good and bad sides. for a long time, he loves lbh like a parent loves a child, and though this side of his love for lbh is not lost in the extras, it's lesser in the sense that the power imbalance is nullified, and the parent-child, shizun-disciple side of their relationship turns more into a comforting, safe roleplay that allows them to access intimacy and express their feelings (that infamous "if i was your mother" speech) than the entirety of their relationship.

and the thing is, he always loved and will always love lbh as a parent loves a child. and i think people uncomfortable with this fact have to get around to accepting that lol

he is subconsciously attracted to luo binghe (bingmei) the Man

we all know this part. sqq's descriptions of lbh's beauty are numerous and far too difficult to quote them all, but one that really stands out to me, because it proves the point, is this one:

[Shen Qingqiu] asked, “The important person you’re talking about, was it…a good-looking young man?” When he thought about it, he decided against suppressing his conscience and clarified. “Not just good-looking, he’s very good-looking, especially good-looking. Fair skin, pretty face, tall. He doesn’t smile often, but when he does, it’s exceptionally dark.” chapter 9: borderlands

if he was unaffected by lbh's attractiveness, he wouldn't need to "suppress his conscience" about it. also this description is just... describing lbh's smile from his own pov? a personal feeling? to a stranger? he has it bad.

he's repressing his own feelings, so it's difficult to point to a specific moment as the moment he realizes he's attracted to lbh... because he never has a conscious realization, and he's in constant denial about it. all the way through to the last bingqiu extra, the wedding extra, he'll continue using the same narrative: the Protagonist is Beautiful and Irresistible, so what can sqq do but surrender to him? It's inevitable, really. (hahahaha he can't help but love and be attracted to lbh. it says more about him that he could ever verbalize)

so yeah, sqq really has the hots for lbh the man. but he'll NEVER admit it, he'll never had an Oh moment. Not even when he unconsciously called lbh "husband".

i want to make a clarification: for a character like sqq, who care about his pride and dignity way too much and has internalized homophobia and sexism to the detriment of his own peace of mind and fulfillment, admitting that he enjoys sex is way too shameful. he's never doing it. he mentions being "drunk with lust" in the showdown extra; in the deep dream extra he gets enthusiastic and proactive, initiating sex with lbh himself very smoothly; in the RoC,SoBQ extra he initially asks to do it doggy style and then changes his tune and wants to see lbh's face, DESPITE being embarrassed about it, and his desire is described as wanting the spot inside him to be rammed. all of this are subtle hints of how he really feels about sex, despite his inner struggles with his pride as a man.

another clarification: the way smut is written in western space is not the same as the way is written in chinese novels. for example, some chinese slang put the the top as the one "attacking", as if sex is a sort of fight. there's always this implication that the shou surrenders to the gong. there's a clear distinction of who tops and who bottoms and the roles of husband and wife made by this distinction; pleasure is described differently: phrases like "scalp going numb", "getting goosebumps" are not particular to svsss alone; the way the bodies engaged in the sex act are described, etc. (it IS a different language with a different culture) so it's normal that most of us come out of the extras thinking the smut is not enjoyable for readers or the characters themselves. what is the difference between the mdzs extras and the svsss extras? that wwx, being characterized as a "shameless" person, is very vocal about how he feels during sex. he has no shame around sex, unlike sqq, who is in the opposite side of the shame spectrum.

sqq is still struggling with that part of himself, and personally I think it's very understandable that even until the end of volume 4 he still has a difficult time with it; it's not easy shedding the believes one grows up with.

which bring me to,

he loves luo binghe the Man, "romantically"

—and it's a love that conflates his parental love, his attraction, too, but that starts to develop mostly post-holy mausoleum: it's when the hand-holding starts, somehow, though it develops fulling throughout the extras, when they finally become romantic partners and explore sex together. mxtx traces an arc that starts with the showdown extra, goes through the deep dream extra that has sqq telling lbh that "Tonight I feel like... I live you a great deal" and ends in the wedding extra with sqq calling lbh "husband" unprompted; despite previously agonizing about his loss of face and dignity and the humiliation of it, his actions speak louder than his words and inner thoughts. because of this, functionally, sqq can be read as a tsundere.

but aside from the sex, sqq enjoys domesticity and spending time with lbh; he likes teasing him, conversing with him and going out with him to see the world. post-main novel they're equals in their relationship and treat each other with respect and consideration, even if their shizun-disciple roleplay prevails. by romance definitions, I believe they mostly fit them, even if their relationship is unconventional.

as for when sqq fell in love with lbh? i still don't have a clear answer. he's always loved him; this love evolves through time, bringing him and lbh closer together. personally, i don't think it's not important. sqq loves lbh, and that's what matters.

[eyesxxyou]

❝ monster under the bed ❞ (hobie x black ftm trans!reader

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. monsterfucking. kinda dub-con. usage of shadow tentacles. reader is ftm trans. hobie calls you a good boy. mating press. mentions of somnophilia. hobie's a little bit of a creep. reader calls hobie "freak", "creature", and "it".

You’ve been staring at your closet for an hour now, terrified out of your feeble, little mind with a knife in your trembling hand. Tears glazed over your eyes, your bottom lip quivering with untold fear. You’re too scared to get off your bed, scared that he might be under there as well, might grab your ankle and drag you under. What things it would do to you.

You never before believed in monsters, not since you were a child and used to have your parents check every night before you went to bed to assure you that there was no monster waiting to come from under your end and eat you whole. Oh if only they could see you now. A paranoid mess on the verge of tears in your own home. You still closed your closet door at night and jumped into bed simply out of habit, not because you were scared, not until recently.

It started with the slight caresses of your limbs whenever they lie outside the confines of your bed, like cool fingers touching and grasping your ankles and wrists until you ripped away, yanked your limbs back onto your bed with a startled gasp. Tender touches against your thighs and hips as you change beside your closet door left slightly ajar. The door opened on its own in the middle of the night, you witnessed it with your own eyes. The knob twisted as if someone on the inside had grabbed and turned it but when you checked, there was nothing.

There was the pair of glowing eyes you swore you saw when you looked under your bed for something you had dropped beneath it. It receded into the darkness quickly, so swiftly you thought you might have been imagining things. But it terrified you nonetheless. 

Then there was the figure standing at the foot of your bed. It was dark. An amalgamation of shadows that held nothing but the obvious outline of a very tall man standing there, watching with those glowing gold eyes you had seen before. You had screamed, turned on the light, and he was gone. You thought you were losing it. Were you losing it? What was happening to you?

You always kept a knife close. You were a trans man living alone, it was for your protection. Who knows what sick bastard would follow you home and try to break in. You had grabbed it with a swiftness you never knew you were capable of and went about your house, searching, clearing every room until you were sure no one was in your home. You slept with the lights on that night.

But he was back, the figure. You saw it, saw its hand reach out from your closet, and another one reach out from under your bed. You grabbed your knife again, both hands wrapped around the hilt to stop your hand from shaking. “Whoever you are, come out! I’m not scared of you!” But your voice trembled and revealed your fear. “I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it.”

There was silence, silence so still you could hear your erratic breathing. Your gaze flickered between the foot of your bed and the closet, eyes well enough adjusted to the dark to see if anything came from either. 

It was the foot of your bed where it came from. A shadowy hand reached out, seemingly coming from under your bed, and grabbed your sheets for leverage as it dragged itself up slowly. The thing, the creature, was nothing but a blob of darkness at first but slowly gained more form and shape as it rose to its staggering height. You watched with wide eyes and parted lips that let shivering breaths escape you.

It chuckled, it laughed at you. Slowly you began to see a smile take shape in there as its face formed from nothing but black smoke. If you weren’t terrified out of your mind, you would have thought him the most gorgeous person – thing – you’ve ever seen. With wild black hair, dark skin, even darker lips, piercings that glint under the fading moonlight.

Something about the inhuman human made you all the more scared for your life. You scrambled back, to the very top of your bed as he began to walk around the side toward you, your knife pointed at him the entire way. “S-stay back!” You sputtered out, breathless and terrified. It did not deter him.

“Ya know how long ‘ve wai’ed f’this moment, lil birdy?” The baritone of his voice felt familiar, everything about him felt so familiar, as if you’ve known him this entire time. He’s been here for years, watching, listening, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to you. All the touches, then breezes, the caresses of your frame. All of it was him, just wanting to make himself known.

You saw a shadow slither around the blade of your knife and yank it from your hands, tossing it to the floor with a metallic clatter. Your only defense against this intruder gone in the blink of an eye.“‘M no’ gonna hurt’cha, dove.” He reached out for you. cool fingers stroking the round of your cheek. You shiver, looking up at him as you made a motion to pull away. “No,” he mutters, “jus’ relax.”

“What– what the hell are you? Who are you? Why are you in my house?”

There was a lit in the man-like creature’s voice as he smirked and spoke. “Jus’ call me Hobie.” He avoided the other questions as if you hadn’t even asked them. His fingers grasped your chin when you looked away from him and towards your door, forced your eyes upon him once more. Hobie tsked at you, clicking his tongue as he shook his head with a slow sort of disappointment. “Don’ even think ‘bout i’, dove. Why ya tryna run from me? Ya know me.”

You know him? You don’t know him. Your brows pinch with confusion as you shake your head. “I don’t-”

“Ya do, birdy. Ya know me.” He sits on the edge of your bed beside you, his fingers still grasping you. ”Ya think all those nasty lil dreams you’ve been havin’ since ya moved here were jus’ ya imagination?” Hobie’s thumb comes to rest against your bottom lip, swiping from left to right, right to left, his hazelnut eyes glowing softly as he looks at your lips. “Ya body knows me a’ least.”

You don’t know why you’re not ripping away from him, why your fear has settled. 

“Open.” His voice is gentle yet demanding and without thought, your lips part as if it were waiting for a command all this time. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips as he eased his thumb onto your warm tongue, pressing down just a bit to keep you from talking. “See, ya know me, dovey. Don’ pretend like ya don’. Yer always such a good boy f’me.”

It was like he was sedating you, forcibly calming you when you knew you should be biting his thumb off. Was this freak touching you at night while you slept? Did he watch you when you touched yourself after wet dreams that left you wet and sticky. Wet dreams he had caused? Your body shivered with the thought and you weren’t sure if it was from disgust or something far more horrifying. A shiver of pleasure.

You felt something cool slither up along the inner part of your thigh. As you glanced down, you saw a shadow slipping beneath the pair of boxers you wear to bed. It slid across the axis of where your pelvis met your thighs and caressed your warm, soft lips. It slid between your pussy lips, breaking off into two separate appendages. One for your clit and one for your pretty, little hole that’s been left neglected by you for quite some time now.

Hobie pulled his thumb from your mouth and leaned in to push his lips onto yours. They were cold against your warm ones, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You didn’t know what to do except accept. Your mind told you to stop, that this wasn’t right. You have no idea what this thing was but your body, aching, didn’t seem to care.

Hesitantly, you parted your lips for him. Hobie hummed with satisfaction, a smile easing onto his lips. “There ya go. There’s ma favorite boy.” His tongue overtook yours, stroking with a precision you weren’t sure you ever felt from another lover. His kiss was wet, sloppy, filled with soft, breathless moans from your hot mouth as his appendages work away at your cunt.

You let out something of a low groan when one of the shadows pushed into your slick hole. It was thick and full and offered you no kindness as it thrusted into you inch by inch until you were filled to the brim with it. The coolness of it made you shiver violently against Hobie, who’s hands parted your legs to give his shadows enough space to do as he pleased them to.

“Ya remember this?” He crooned at you, his fingers gripping your thighs, his claws digging into flesh yet not enough to puncture, just enough to cause the slightest bit of pain to mingle with the fact that his shadows were playing with your engorged clit, sliding beneath the hood to get to the sweet spot. “I did this to ya las’ week. Ya woke up before I couldn't finish ya off.”

The other stuffed you full, stroked every one of your ridges and sweet spots until you were gasping for air. “Ngh~ please! Oh my God!” It pushed in and out of you, so hard you felt your entire body rock and shudder. “S-slow down mmh~” you could feel the thing circle your cervix, kissing it so softly with the languid tip.

“I know ya can take i’, lil bird.” He shifted his grip on your legs and moved his hands beneath your thighs to press them against your chest. Your boxers were pulled out of the way with another shadow to expose your puffy cunt plugged up with a dark appendage, the other lavishing over your firm clit. “Jus’ take i’.” 

His lips are on yours again, firm and cool, tongue claiming your mouth until drool began to seep from the corners where your lips were sealed. Hobie smiled into your kiss, your body writing beneath his hold. Your eyes are half-closed and fucked out, your body thrashing with something far more otherworldly than just pleasure.

You couldn't understand why you were letting this happen. What the hell was he doing to you? Or was this truly just your body falling into what it already knows. Him. It. This thing and his shadows. He kissed you more passionately than any man has and was fucking you better than you could imagine.

The sound of it was filthy. The soft squelch of his shadow forcing its way in and out of you permeated the room and mingled with your muffled moans against his impassioned kiss. He’s been waiting for this for so long and he’ll be damned if he didn't revel in the satisfaction of having you all bent out of shape for him. He could feel you through his shadow, your tightness, your desperation, the pull of your soft, wanton cunt.

“Do ya know what torture feels like?” Hobie asks and you’re tempted to say yes with the way his shadow lapped at your swollen clit and filled your cunt to the brim, stretching and molding to your every dip, curve, and ridge until no spot was left untouched. It filled you perfectly, so perfect you could weep with pleasure.

“Torture is havin’ to watch ma lil dove touch himself and I can' do a damn thing about i’ ‘cause I don' wanna scare ‘im.” You let out another broken moan while the shadows seem to work in unison, his large hands pressing your thighs harder to your chest, opening you up a little more to make more room for him to stuff your cunt a little more.

You’re open and exposed, shamelessly so. The darkness allows for all the things you would have shunned in the light. Something was dripping from your pussy, down the round of your ass, maybe your wetness oozing, being pushed out by his shadow.

Hobie chuckled softly while watching your eyes roll and your saliva-wet lips fall open. “I don't scare ya, lil dovey, do I?”

You wanted to say yes, that he terrified the hell out of you but as you opened your mouth, all you could do was let out something of a whiny, needy, little moan. “Please.” That’s all you could muster, the shudder of an orgasm beginning to make itself known in the pit of your belly.

You couldn't handle it. It was simply so intense, so demanding of you all your energy. “I can't-”

“Ya can,” Hobie insisted. “Lemme taste ya cum. I need i’. Lemme take wha’ I need, then I’ll go f’the nigh’.” He glanced out the window to find the sky growing lighter; the dark was being pushed away by dawn. It wouldn't be long until the sun crested over the horizon and he’d have to go back into hiding beneath your bed where he'd wait patiently for you to climb back into your bed, maybe touch yourself a bit, get yourself ready for his assault on your body the next night.

Your body rolled, thrashed, quivered with the beginnings of your climax. The walls of your pussy clamped and pulsed and Hobie let out a heavy breath. He could feel you, his shadow coaxing out your pretty moans as it stroked your gummy walls and kissed at your cervix oh so gently. 

Your mind felt fuzzy. Your vision went in and out of focus. Your hands gripped at your sheets before relaxing all together. You shuddered with the aftershock, breath labored and hitching with every exhale. 

Hobie released you and your legs fell onto your bed as his shadows receded back into the darkness as if they had never been there in the first place but the slick, sticky cum against your thighs and underwear left proof of their presence.

“I wish I could stay a lil longa, birdy, get one more outta ya, but I gotta go.” He pressed his lips to yours, a kiss not reciprocated. You were too tired, too fucked out. You couldn’t imagine having to undergo a second one, you couldn’t believe you had let him drag even a single one out of you. 

Hobie turned to whisper in your ear, his hand stroking your thigh tenderly. “I’ll see you tonight, dove.” He stood up, glancing at the window just as the sun was beginning to rise just over the treeline. He began to lose his form and became nothing more than a shadow creature once more, melting away into an amorphous blob before slithering back beneath your bed. 

You scrambled up, chest heaving as you leaped from your bed and dropped down to your hands and knees to look for him beneath your bed frame. There was nothing, just the other side of your room, you could see straight through. You swallowed nervously and lied on the cool hardwood of your floor.

Your mind was empty, wiped completely blank by your orgasm. There was a single thought on your mind, just one. What the fuck just happened?

There was a monster that lives under your bed it had fucked you so good you might never recover from it.

[autistichalsin]

What are some of Halsin's flaws, in your opinion?

Halsin's flaws, personality and others, major and minor (note that some of these are a bit circumstantial):

-He can't control his baser/animal instincts, which comes out in his wildshape issues. This corresponds with bloodlust in his animal form.

-He isn't suited for Druidic leadership, as shown at the Grove, which led to disastrous consequences.

-By his own admission, he focuses too hard on the tasks important to him and lets other ones fall by the wayside.

-Due to the above, he struggles tremendously with balancing conflicting obligations; he didn't bother much with the Grove when he was trying to solve the Shadow Curse, abandoned the Grove when the player showed up (though of course that was also due to his trauma and hatred of the Archdruid role), and if romanced to Karlach, is one of the only ones who refuses to go to Avernus with her, feeling that he and he alone can start the commune for the children and their needs are greater than hers.

-He has a self-sacrificial view about what being "good" is, and feels that he has to be unhappy if he's helping; he let himself suffer as Archdruid for 100 years rather than find someone else to take the role, and in the ending, he tries to break up with a romanced player to start his commune both because of his possible abandonment issues and because he doesn't see room for his own happiness when he's trying to help people.

-As I just mentioned, he does have abandonment issues to a degree; if the player dumps him in the ending, he says he knows nothing lasts forever. If the player suggests the party go their separate ways immediately after the battle, he says it was always destined to be so, but it stings nonetheless. He is shocked when the player comes to rescue him from Orin if taken.

-While he is an extremely kind and forgiving person, he has limits, and once those have been crossed, he gets very vengeful (I.E. everyone involved in his captivity with the goblins, or saying he'd like to "do the same" to whoever killed and stuffed a young bear for decoration in one shop in Baldur's Gate).

-He misreads social cues fairly often.

-He seems better able to assert his boundaries to strangers than to his friends and loved ones, I.E., not having much of a negative reaction to a Lolthsworn Drow threatening to sell him back into slavery.

-Because nature is his way of understanding the world, he struggles to understand things through any other lens. He has little interest in other things that can't be considered part of either nature or his Druidic duties.

-He takes things very literally at times, I.E. the phrase "you can say that again."

-He doesn't bother trying to hide when he doesn't like someone (I.E. if the player has incredibly low approval with him).

-He can sometimes be insensitive on accident, such as saying "imagine the horrors" when they're in a tadpoling facility, to Wyll in particular, though he does apologize right away when called on it.

-He is slow to true anger, but sometimes quick to annoyance, at least where strangers are concerned. (This is more so the case if they question him).

-He infamously doesn't trust Drow, and while this is justified in the case of Lolth-sworn Drow, he is initially mistrustful of the player if they are a Seldarine Drow too (though later he shows far more trust of Seldarine than Lolth Drow).

-His objections to some of the evil things encountered in the game are their unnaturalness more than their evilness, fitting with the Druidic belief that evil is as much a part of the world as good. He is more upset at how unnatural the tadpoles are than anything, at least at first, and if the Dark Urge shows off the Slayer form in front of him, he says it's "most unnatural. Most foul," and says that it only serves death/murder. (It's how unnatural and unbalanced it is that it bothers him more than the form being a giant monster, basically.)

-He has a huge case of hero worship to the player, which is why he falls in love with them almost immediately after they break the Shadow Curse, and has feelings for them even sooner than that.

-He despises turnips.

[freds-one-piece-fics]

Overnight work

Straw hat’s [redacted] (Yandere! Strawhats x reader)

Prologue

Tw: blood, wounds, splinters (pretty descriptive)

A little bonding time with... Zoro???? Lucky you!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

When you joined the straw hats, they expected some hard work on your end. Not because they wanted you to, oh no no no. The reason they came to this conclusion was because of the hard work you put in your old job and how seriously you took it.

They just didn't expect how invested you were in completing tasks...

On your first day living on the ship, you got up and waited on the rest of the crew, figuring that it'd be rude to snoop around on your own. Once the crew did leave their beds, they were surprised, even more so when you asked what duties you have been assigned.

The crew wasn't really sure where to start honestly. They really didn't think that far (Luffy made that decision to bring you on the ship without an actual plan), so they instead asked you to join in on a fun activity that day.

Initially, you were distracted from doing any real work, but you being you... you eventually found some labor.

Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper tried keeping your attention away from such boring tasks, but you couldn't even focus on the game at hand. Not when one of the newly replaced back sail had that nasty hole in it...

That simply wouldn't do.

So off you went, grabbing a spare sail clothe to replace the damaged one.

It took most of the afternoon just replacing it and inspecting any parts of the ship. The more mature members of the crew kept the others (mainly Luffy) from interrupting your work, but even they were bothered by your refusal to accept help.

Sanji even made dinner earlier so he could get you to break your unwavering attention on the sails, which worked fortunately!

That night, dinner was loud and chaotic.

It was a type of chaos that held no genuine malice, even as Sanji threatened to shove his foot up Zoro's hyper-clenched asshole.

You ate your food politely, even letting Luffy snag some food off your plate (much to Sanji's chagrin) while Sanji was distracted by Nami's beauty or Zoro's "I don't give a fuck" attitude.

Over all, the first day was uneventful, even for the Straw hat's standards…

BAM!

"...What the hell?" Zoro hissed in annoyance at first, only for that irritation to be replaced by caution as he heard another sound, this time more quiet then before...

Whoever was up there was trying (and failing) to be quiet.

The other men snored loudly as Zoro snuck out the room with his swords. His senses were on high alert as he poked his head outside, seeing nothing but the deck lacking any other living being.

His attention was directed to above him once he heard soft but heavy feet walking on the wood deck above.

Swords drawn, Zoro leapt onto the anchor deck, ready to tear into who ever dared to sneak onto the Going Merry. His rush of adrenaline only increased tenfold when he spotted a tall figure hidden by the shadows of the moonless night.

The figure turned with a large wood pole on their shoulder, nearly knocking Zoro off the deck. He ducked down just in time before launching himself towards the figure with his blades crossed in front of him. the figure quickly dropped the pole to the side of them and gripped the blades, keeping Zoro from slicing the figure.

He almost couldn't budge from the grip the person had on his swords, but he pulled, and pulled, and pulled, slowly cutting through the hand's delicate palms like thick butter before a pained growl was let out.

Shock, hurt, and confusion displayed itself on your face as you looked back in Zoro's golden brown eyes, who did a double take as well.

"(Y/n)!? What the hell!?" He yelled and backed away with his blades as soon as you released them.

"I'm... sorry?" You said in pure confusion.

"What-What are you doing out here this late!? And why are you swinging a giant pole around!?" He demanded while pointing his sword at you accusingly.

"I'm... finishing what I started yesterday." You said while pointing over to where the hind mast would be, which appeared to be missing.

Well... Not really.

Zoro would realize this when he finally stared at the now familiar looking mast laying on the deck beside them.

"...didn't you fix it though?" Was all he could ask in that moment.

"Only the sail. The repair shop missed the smaller mast apparently. The main one is in perfect condition, but this one wasn't." You said with a small huff.

Zoro slowly sheathed his swords, still giving you a strange look.

"Alright, but... at night?"

"It's better to get it done as soon as possible."

You walked over to grab the pole, only to jolt and pause before grabbing the pole more gently.

"Oi, leave it be." Zoro said while approaching you.

"I have to-"

"Your hands are cut open." Zoro muttered something about you being a dumbass before reaching down and grabbing your hands to look at them.

Your eyebrows were raised in surprise by his sudden touch and closeness, even more so by the fact that he gave a crap.

He clicked his tongue, feeling the blood on your calloused hands but unable to see well on this moonless night.

"...I can't see shit. C'mon." He turned away and walked towards the stairs.

You were hesitant to follow. Sure, you were bleeding and it hurt, but the job wasn't done. You CANNOT have the captain see his own mast laying on the anchor deck.

Unfortunately for you, the swordsman wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Get your ass down here, we need to clean your wounds."

"But Captain Luffy won't be pleased with the mast-"

"I'm his first mate. I have authority, so I say you leave the stupid piece of wood and bandage your hands. You'll get blood all over it anyway." Zoro said in an annoyed tone.

"...yes sir."

Zoro's face scrunched up at that as his face burned a little hot.

"Don't call me that. It's Zoro." He snapped at you half heartedly.

With all being said, Zoro led you to the lounge area, which sat at the back of the ship. While grabbing the railing to walk up the steps, you pulled back and grit your teeth when what felt like a splinter snagged itself into your open flesh.

You go to pull the piece of wood out, only for a voice to snap at you.

"C'mon. Don't mess with your cuts until we get in the lounge." He said, looking back despite not seeing too well in the dark.

You complied, this time not touching the railing as you walked upwards.

As soon as you both entered the lounge, Zoro turned to you and cussed under his breathe after catching sight of your visible hands.

"I cut you pretty damn bad. Stay here."

He left the room quickly, leaving you in an awkward silence as you studied your own hands.

Your rough, scarred hands had new wounds added to them. The cuts were smooth, something that could easily heal, but the depth of the cuts would be a problem you concluded. You eyed the splinter launched in the exposed meat and with care and patience, grabbed the tip of it with your other hand, slowly pulling the intruder out of the pulsing mess of blood and skin.

Despite the obvious pain of removing the splitter, there was this euphoric relief. The wound throbbed and burned, but it became a more comfortable and dull sensation.

The door opened, snatching your attention away from the cuts on your hands. Zoro walked in, glancing at your ands before dropping the kit he had in his hand.

"What the- did you pick at it???"

You stared sheepishly at the moss headed man, who snapped at you once more.

"Dumbass!!!"

Zoro stomped over and grabbed your hands, inspecting the damage before releasing your wrists again.

"We gotta wash it a little." He sighed while brute forcing the kit open. He dug into the kit in search of something before he looked at you with a confuzzled look.

"What the hell are you sitting there for? Wash your hands there, idiot!" He pointed to the sink in exasperation.

"Yes sir."

"Oi! Stop calling me that!"

Zoro wrapped your hands tight in gauze and medical tape, slapping your hands away when you tried to do it yourself.

"Both of your hands are injured. You're in no condition to wrap these yourself." He excused despite you stating that you had worse.

Once he was done, he looked over your hands, subconsciously rubbing a thumb over a long healed scar that was located on the back of your hand.

While you allowed him to inspect your hands, you couldn't help but notice how little focus he was giving the recent injuries given by yours truly.

He grumbled something that you couldn't make out, before he removed his own calloused hands and sat on the other chair he leaned his swords against.

"It's done. Tony can look at it tomorrow..."

You nodded, ready to stand up and leave to finish what you started before Zoro stopped you.

"That means go to bed."

"...I was?" You said as you made a funny face.

The man scoffed at you narrowed his eyes.

"You're a terrible liar. Less convincing than the long nose."

You didn't have time to answer before Zoro pointed to the door with his thumb.

"Go to sleep. We can worry about the hunk of wood in the morning... or afternoon. Seeing that you chose to stay up late." He snarked.

You opened your mouth, about to speak when he stopped you.

"And don't call me what you're about to call me."

"Call you what, sir?"

"...go to fucking bed." Zoro hissed.

'How troublesome' he would think as he watched the (h/c) head towards the room that Sat between Nami's and the boy's quarters.

He didn't think they would cause issues so soon...

And he didn't think he'd give a shit so fast...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the rough start, fellas. I've lost my touch lmao.

I wanna do a slow burn type of deal where the yanderes slowly turn yandere, some slower/faster than others.

I'm not gonna make it painfully slow, don't worry, it'll maybe at least a few weeks or a month for the characters before they become yanderes.

No hate at all to other fics that do this, but I'd like to think the obsession isn't within the first second they meet. If that's the case, then they may as well randomly grow attached to everyone they meet lol (but that's just me. Just a lil nit pick.)

But anywho, I'll be making the aftermath of this fic.

Goodnight 🌙

[sentientgolfball]

i love soft phantom but how about a scenario of a new ghoul or some other demon species acting predatory towards reader and phantom being all protecting and aggressive!!! 🤭

When I saw this one I knew I had to save it :> consider this Golfball's Halloween special

Tags: nothing too overtly gory, but there's some description of injury, demon Phantom, blood drinking, extremely brief mention of suicide

My requests are open !

Phantom has always been a cheerful ghoul, ever since the day he was summoned. He was always willing to help where it was needed and eager to learn about the strange world of humanity. He was talkative and affectionate, kind and curious. He’s someone you considered a friend with how often he’d swing by to help you where he could. But something has been off lately. 

It started with snide comments and jokes that were a bit too personal. That quickly turned into stealing your things and hiding them where you’d never find them. Bleeding into the shadows just to pop out when you thought you were alone. The worst part was nobody else seemed to notice his change. You tried venting to your friends one night and all you received were confused looks and questions. He only seemed to be treating you like this. You felt crazy. And now here he was sitting on your desk. 

“Come on, is it really that important?” He snatches the paper you were looking over from your hand. His eyes roam over it quickly before a sick grin crosses his face as he tears it up. 

“Phantom what the fuck!” You feel your gut twist at the sight of the contract now in tiny pieces all across the desk. 

His once sickeningly sweet laugh sounds grating to your ears. You look at him only to be met with a horrible Cheshire grin full of fang. 

“What? You said it yourself we couldn’t hang today cause you were busy. Now you’re not busy.” 

You stare incredulously at him, mouth slightly agape “Get out.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Get the fuck out!”

“Aww come on you’ve got nothing to do now.” He purrs 

“No. Now I have more to do! Leave!” 

He shrugs with a chuckle before hopping off your desk and out the door, tail flicking happily as he goes. You dig the heel of your palm into your eyes and let out a frustrated groan. What the hell was up with him? You felt crazy. He’s been like this for weeks. What’s even worse there would be days that he seemed completely normal and you could almost forget how much of a pain in the ass he’s become. He’d flip so often you were beginning to wonder if he needed to go see Omega. You started to loathe seeing him, it was getting exhausting dealing with the whiplash of demeanor. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Whoever is there waits only a few seconds before slowly opening the creaky door. 

“Hey” a smooth voice calls out “you missed lunch so I thought I’d bring you something small.” 

Your irritation spikes. You actually couldn’t believe him. The audacity of this ghoul. 

“Phantom do you really fucking think a little sandwich is going make me forgive you?” 

You remove your hands from your eyes and glare at him. 

“What?” He asks with genuine confusion, ears drooping. 

You huff and stand, shoving your chair in with a shrill scrape against the floor. You gather the rest of the papers before Phantom has a chance to shred them. You shoulder past him and out the door. You couldn’t be near him anymore. You went to go find somewhere to finish your work without a little demon bothering you. 

You had spent the rest of your day fixing the mess Phantom caused and catching up on what you had to put on pause. You were now alone in your room trying to alleviate the headache that had plagued you for the last few hours. You were laying in bed staring off when you heard a knock at your door. You didn’t answer. You really didn’t care who was on the other side, you didn’t want to deal with it. 

“Please let me in.” A soft whine came as you stayed quiet. 

“Go away Phantom.” 

It was quiet for a long time. You started to settle believing that he actually listened and left you alone. Until you heard a whisper you would’ve missed if it hadn’t been dead quiet. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You rolled over and looked at the door, weighing your options. You had been sick of the way he was acting towards you, but he was your friend. He had been so kind to you much longer than this new asshole side of his. Maybe he was going through something ghoulish that you couldn’t understand? You sigh. If he was coming here to apologize then he at least realized he did something wrong. You’d be willing to forgive if he could mend the tears in your relationship. 

You push yourself out of bed and open the door. You stand in the doorframe eyeing his downtrodden posture. He was slouching, ears drooped and eyes wide with his tail wrapped around his leg. Little pricks of guilt began to soften the anger steaming in your mind. 

“I’m sorry” He squeaks again “for everything.” 

“Phantom” you sigh and cross your arms “I don’t know what’s up with you, but it’s really hurt.” 

“I know, I know I’m sorry I just need to exp—“

“I really don’t want an excuse just…fuck.”

“Please let me make it up to you.” 

You consider him for a moment. You really hated the way he’s been acting, but you had a fondness for the sweet little ghoul you once knew. You wanted to believe he could make it up to you. You wanted to have the Phantom you knew back. Maybe you would regret it. Maybe you would come to realize he’s a demon no matter how soft his smile is. Maybe you were just stupid and naive for thinking it could change. But if he’s willing to apologize, willing to admit how fucked he’s been maybe he deserves a second chance. 

“Okay.” 

His ears perk up. 

“Not tonight. I’m still pissed about the paperwork, but if you haven’t flipped out again overnight then maybe we can work something out.” 

“Yes it’ll be different I promise, no more bad Phantom. I’ll make sure he’s gone.” 

“Goodnight Phantom. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.”

He stays and watches you close the door before departing. You sigh heavily, shoulder slumping before crawling back into your bed. You were exhausted. Everything’s been so exhausting lately. Though, on the bright side it seemed like your headache finally went away.  

After Phantom’s apology everything seemed to go back to normal. Well almost normal. He refused to leave you alone now. Granted he was always a little clingy, but this was a whole new level. He was always hanging around the same area as you even if he wasn’t directly interacting. You honestly didn’t care at this point, you were just glad he seemed like his sweet self again. He even kept his promise. He had begun getting you small little gifts of crystals and flowers and helping you with your tasks around the Ministry. It was nice. About a week of this passed and you felt good, great even. You wanted to do something with him, show him you’re no longer mad at him. With Samhain right around the corner you both decided on having a gigantic movie marathon.

You were waiting for him in your room, everything needed for the night already set up. You were just waiting for him to get out of rehearsal. A knock at your door startled you. You furrow your brow opening it to see who was there. 

“Phantom?” 

“Hey hey we were let out early. Come on, let's get this party started.” He shoulders past you into your room. 

You shrug it off and close the door behind you. He flops onto your bed as you start the first movie. You offer up the snacks you gathered but he declines scrunching his nose in disgust. You get a weird feeling. You try to ignore it though as the movie begins. You settle next to him on your bed, eating since he won’t. Another sinking feeling creeps in when he doesn’t move closer. He’s always been physically affectionate, but now he stays leaning against the wall with a rigid posture. You try to focus on the movie. 

Your phone buzzes after about thirty minutes into the movie. You check it. A text from Phantom. 

I’m on my way! Copia just let us out….please tell me you remembered my candy 

What…? 

You stare at it. The sinking feeling in your stomach twists. You feel nauseous. You try to sneak a glance at the Phantom sitting next to you. He’s staring right at you with a sick grin. You jump out of the bed away from him. 

“Something wrong?” He asks nonchalantly. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“That’s a stupid question. I’m Phantom, your favorite ghoul.” That Cheshire grin splits his face. 

“No you’re not. You’re not him. Who are—“ 

“Oh ouch guess my time is up. Or no that’s not right. Your time.” 

The thing wearing Phantom’s face stands from the bed, eyes rolling back joints popping sickeningly. You don’t waste another second. You run out of your room determined to make it to the practice room. Find Phantom. Find Papa and the other ghouls. Find anyone before this thing turned you into prey. As you ran you heard its wicked laugh bounce through the halls, the scraping of claws against polished floor. You didn’t dare spare a glance behind you. You needed to get away from it. You turn sharply at the next corner hoping to either lose it or find somewhere to hide until it was safe to run. 

You dipped into an alcove throwing a hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, praying to whoever was listening that you'd be safe. Your eyes widen as the creature stalks forward. It still wears the appearance of Phantom but there’s something so unsettlingly wrong about it. He looks thin, too thin. Bones clearly visible through skin that was drawn too tight. Its hair was long, greasy like an oil spill. Everytime it moved you could hear its tendons snap and pop. You could see black ichor under its skin where its veins popped on its neck. 

“Where are you?” Its cracked, layered voice sang out as it stalked down the hall. 

Lucky, it passes right by your hiding spot. You wait just a bit longer for safe measure before ducking out. It’s gone. You move at a brisk pace towards where you knew a pack of ghouls was hanging. You end up slowing down after a while. It still hasn’t caught up to you. Maybe it lost you? Or maybe one of the sentry ghouls caught it? Either way, you felt safe enough to slow. It hadn’t appeared and you were almost to the practice rooms. You were so close. 

You were so close. 

You stop dead in your tracks when you feel a thick substance drip onto your face. You swipe it, seeing a black ichor coating your fingers. 

“Hello” that voice laughs. 

You try to run but it’s faster. It grabs you, claws digging deep into your skin. You feel the blood flow before you see it, but when you do see it you’re suddenly snapped into the reality of the situation. You panic. You freeze. You don’t know what to do. All you can think about is the gory demise that surely awaits you. It drags you forwards and you stumble. When you fall to the floor the thing pounces. You stare in horror at its gaping maw, filled with hundreds of needle-thin teeth. Spit dripped from his mouth coating your face as it leaned in. You flinch when it springs forward and it latches onto your arm biting down hard and sucking the blood from the wound. It burns. It feels like fire is coursing through your veins as its saliva infects you. The imposter Phantom rips its teeth from your arm and grins, licking the excess blood from its mouth with a sick tongue. 

“You know…I was not going to hunt you” it’s cracked voice says “you were feeding me so well. I would have taken from you until you ended your own life, but that vermin that horrid guard dog pushed me away. Starved me.” 

It brings its mouth close to your throat, jaw cracking and popping as flesh rips so it can open its mouth wider than should be possible. You make one last attempt to push it away, but the burning all but consumed your mind. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely feel. All you could do is watch in paralyzed horror as the beast that wore Phantom’s face prepared to end your life. 

You hear a sharp trill and you close your eyes waiting for the final blow. But it never came. The force of the beast is suddenly knocked off you. You blink your eyes open and you see Phantom. The real Phantom crouched between your broken body and the creature. He growls low in his throat at the thing, tail lashing dangerously. The Phantom you see before you is not one you’ve seen before. It’s definitely him, but something is different. He looks bigger, taller. His horns are long, more sharp. His quintessence pops and cracks haphazardly over his body. His claws look sharper. His eyes are gone, completely black and hollow, swallowed by the void within his very core. His physical form is barely contained as wisps of smoke and stardust curl around him. 

The creature screeches and jumps up, form twisting as it does so. Its joints pop as it grows, thin limbs becoming thinner. It’s leathery skin is stretched so thin you can practically see every ichor filled vein. It still wears Phantom’s face but it looks half melted as it struggles to maintain the appearance. It’s sharp, every ridge and bone visible. It lunges at Phantom. 

He growls and disappears in a puff of smoke before reappearing behind the beast. He rakes his claws down its back, black ichor spilling onto the pristine floors. He warps away again when it turns, landing another blow to its side. He does this again and again, but the beast catches on. The minute he puffs away it spins and catches him when he reappears. It throws Phantom against the wall with horrible force. He lets out a pained wheeze, rolling over trying to gather himself before it’s too late. He’s not fast enough though. The creature sinks its teeth deep into his shoulder and Phantom wails. Its teeth dig in. 

Phantom screams and digs his claws into its head. He sets his jaw and unleashes so much raw quintessence from his body that the hallway is filled with a purple glow. The beast falls limp, sparks jumping from its body. Phantom doesn’t hesitate. He sinks his fangs deep into its throat and pulls and pulls until it’s ripped from its neck. He spits it onto the floor and bends back down, drinking the ichor like blood that pours from the wound of the dead creature. He pulls back when he’s satisfied, swiping his forked tongue over his mouth collecting the remnants. He growls at the body of the beast. 

You scream at the scene, or at least you try to. It comes out more as a whimper as the venom works its way through your system. The moment you do, though, Phantom’s head snaps to your body laying on the floor. Immediately everything about him changes. The quintessence stops rippling over his body, he goes back to his normal size, his form becomes solid again, his eyes return to their normal purple. You see his mouth move but you can’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. You see him run to you before your eyes fall shut. 

When you finally blink open your eyes, you're met with the sterile white of an infirmary room. Everything hurts. You felt slick with sweat and cold. Your head was absolutely pounding as you looked around trying to get your bearings. That’s when you notice a little ball of purple curled up at the foot of your bed. 

“He’s been there all night you know.” 

You whip your head around at the voice before you can stop yourself. You groan feeling like someone took a hammer to the side of your skull. 

“Don’t move so quickly. Your body is still recovering from the venom. You’re lucky I was able to make an antidote.” 

“Thanks Omega.” You wince both from the pain and how that came out a lot more sarcastic than genuine. 

He chuffs “Don’t mention it Sibling, however next time a trickster spirit is within these halls please alert me before another scene is caused.” 

And with that, he walks out. You lay back in the bed and close your eyes against the annoying fluorescent. You replay the night's memories over and over again until you feel a weight shift as Phantom moves from his spot at the foot. A smile ghosts your face as he curls closer to you and mumbles a sleepy “You’re thinking too loud” before he falls back asleep with a purr in his chest. 

[that-ari-blogger]

Critical Role's Previous Cameraman

I put up a post the other day about critical role's new animated introduction and I couldn't help but notice a sudden spike in the analytical stuff that I don't really understand. A more tech orientated friend of mine informed me that this was a good thing, actually. So, I thought I might capitalise on that and examine the previous campaign's opening sequence through the same lens and do some more analysis.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

One notable thing about this song is when it starts. Exactly eleven seconds in. That's eleven seconds of wait before the final payoff. You catch glimpses of what's happening above, but nothing else.

And that is a key theme of this campaign. The unseen. The Mighty Nein was a party characterised by trauma, and a lot of the time, you don't see that, you only see glimpses. A flash of a fight they told you about, and the sensation of drowning.

But then we meet Fjord.

He's falling, and I'd like to point out the direction in which he is falling. You will notice the scars on his back, signifying he was probably in the process of running away, or was betrayed by someone, and he is falling towards those scars. Backwards. There is also a neat thing of falling away from the light, into the darkness, into the unknown. THis is someone out of control, leaning into the pain. And what is it that sees that?

There is a reason Uk'otoa's design looks so much like a leach. The creature is a parasite, it doesn't find someone strong to break down, it found someone weak, and at its mercy, and brought him under its control. What this shot does is highlight that creature's opportunistic nature, but it also associates it very clearly with the visual of that eye.

And it's that eye that carries through. When Fjord washes up on the beach, when he is finally safe, he carries with him a little piece of Uk'otoa, a little piece of that trauma.

It's also notable of that it is an eye. It's obvious, but it colours his vision, and changes how he views the world. Its effects aren't physical, but mental.

Beaureguard Lionet is a fighter. Not in the sense of class, because she isn't but in the sense of personality. Beau is a fighter in the sense that her first reaction to any problem is to punch it.

This transition is a wipe transition, but its important because of what it uses. It uses the opportunity to show off the uniforms of Beau's attackers, because otherwise the shadows of the rest of the shot make them hard to make out. These are wearing the same robes as her. Whoever they are, they are part of a team of some kind with her, they are people she should be able to trust, but look at how much damage they have done to her. Look at how heavily she is breathing. And look at what Beau does in response.

She fights back. This is how the animation gets across this character. She isn't complex, she doesn't need a great explanation, she doesn't have different sides to her, she just hits things until they stop being a problem.

I will also point out her eyes again. They are blue, not an unnatural eye colour, but they are the same blue as her robes, and the robes of those who are attacking her. Once again, the has warped the vision of its recipient, and in this case, it's creating a cycle of violence as all she knows how to do, is hit things.

We don't see Nott The Brave for a while in this animatic. We instead see, once again, the eyes. But I also want to point out that this was made before we knew about Veth. So we were just seeing the scared goblin.

This is as close as we get in this scene, and its Nott actively hiding from the light. The warmth scares her, and for good reason, its the same heat that we see emanating from her eyes. Once again, the trauma that has contaminated a character's vision is changing their reactions to the world.

And with that, I would like to talk about Jester, and I would like to do that in context.

The term "foil" in the context of a character was actually popularised by William Shakespear, who handily explained the metaphor for us.

"And like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glitt'ring o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off."

Put in English, I shine brighter when you have something to compare me to. And this is what a foil character is, a character who brings about elements in other characters that can easily be missed, or who shows off by contrast their personalities.

Jester is one of the two characters in the Mighty Nein who is not a child of trauma, and her introduction shows that. She reacts to her life by laughing, and contrast that with everyone else. Fjord reaches for a sword, the item of his trauma; Beau tries to fight her trauma despite that approach clearly not working; and Nott hides from it, unable to reach out for help.

And it is notable that the first time we see an adult Jester, she looks normal (if a bit over cheerful), then is immediately contrasted with the rest of the Nein.

This not only shows just how different her demeanour is from the rest of the crew, but it shows her effect on them. She makes them all smile. Jester and Caduceus are very much support characters in the truest sense of the word. They support others. Jester shows genuine kindness towards everybody else, and it reflects onto them.

This shot is neat but not too special. Its a tracking shot on the hat of all things, because thats what important here, and it shows the traveling dynamic of the group. It's a tiny bit of tension in an otherwise calm scene, so the camera is steady, but speeds up slightly to match the movement of the object, then comes to a stop when it is caught. There is very little stress, but there is a sense of comradery.

Similarly, this shot establishes some stakes with a rising pan to show the scale of the threat and to show some more information, but it is hardly a monster, so the camera isn't really in a hurry.

Enter Caleb Widogast, born in fire. I don't think they could write a more thematic entrance if they tried. An abrupt cut shows the night, then it is entirely consumed by fire, only to reveal Caleb.

There is no motion here. The camera is stock still. This is the exact same thing with Ashton and FCG in the Bell's Hells. Caleb is disassociating from the heat in front of him, and there is a fascinating reason behind that. Caleb has two characters that need to be introduced to better understand him, the man, and Bren, the boy.

The flames consume the screen again, and then part to show a boy, staring at the screen, in horror. This is what you need to know about this character, this is a character forged in flames, born from the Ashes. Bren is dead, Caleb Widogast remains.

And this shot, with Caleb, Astrid and Eadwulf silhouetted against the fire, shows what kind of trauma we are talking about, and what effect it has. This is guilt, and in contrast with the rest of his party, this guilt is paralysing.

Yasha, however, is introduced in a calm way, in contrast to everything around her. The camera shows you a woman, meditating, and then pans backwards to reveal this:

This is a woman surrounded by bloodshed, who has made a concerted effort to look away from it, and to look to the Storm Lord for guidance. This is a woman looking for healing, in comparison to everyone else, but that looking doesn't change the fact that that trauma is still there.

The next few scenes are cool, but don't really add anything to this analysis and I only have a few more images I can show here, so I'm going to skip to Taliesin's characters.

Caduceus has two introductions. One is this shot, which is a cool action shot of him casting an epic spell and vanquishing a crowd of enemies. But instead of the incredibly animated (in the sense of exaggerated poses) nature of his companions, Caduceus clay is calm and collected. He is unquestionably the anchor of the group, and where Jester contrasts them emotionally, Caduceus does so on a philosophical level. Caduceus is a gardener of fungus.

Mushrooms and other fungi are recyclers, they grow on dead trees and creatures and give a forest new life. They clear out the debris and make way for new things to take hold. That's what Caduceus does for the Nein, he helps them get through their trauma so that Jester can help them improve and become better.

Caduceus's actual introduction is muted, and there's a point to that. He's not trying to be the main character, you don't need to understand his family life to understand him. You need to understand that can stand in a graveyard and see the light, that he is at peace with what has gone before him and helps people to get past it, and that his entire mission, to regrow the grove, isn't to bring back what is lost, but to help regrow something new in its place instead of the blight that lingers there.

Mollymauk is introduced as a weapon transformed into a grave. That is what this transition is and I think that's really important. Mollymauk is, very clearly, a repurposed soul. He isn't the first person to inhabit that shell, and he isn't the last. I also want to point out how this character is represented here, not with a heroic memory, but with a quiet moment or remenicing on times gone by. He is a shadow that haunts the Nein.

This is by far the simplest shot in the entire video, and that's because it isn't telling you anything. You bring your own emotions to the table here, you bring the memories to the grave, that's how grieving works.

Once again, there is more to this video, but I'm only allowed to put 30 images in a single post. So I leave you with a quote from Niel Gaiman.

"Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten."

DnD likewise, and all TTRPGs for that matter, are powerful because in them, with a little bit of help from friends, any monster, no matter how personal, can be defeated.

[jiyansthesis]

PAY ☆ ATTENTION

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

x fem! reader

summary: dragging yourself through an alleyway, you didn't notice the gleam of a metal barrel behind you, or the other pair of eyes looking through a scope, trained on you. maybe if you paid attention, he wouldn't be here taking a bullet out of you.

note: he's taking over my entire tiktok fyp this fanfic is the least i could do. i haven't played the whole campaign and i've mostly watched my mom play, so sorry if there's any crazy mistakes (although this has nearly nothing to do with the actual mw2 campaign) this is gonna be short until i'm comfy enough writing for him. intentionally lowercase.

not proofread + i hate this

☆☆.

you stalked through a dark street, only the moon illuminating your way to the rendezvous point, a safehouse. you tightened your grip on the handle of your rifle, alert for any sounds of being followed.

you had a slight limp, due to someone catching sight of you running away from the scene of majority of his cartel lying dead on the floor. before you could manage to pull your trigger, he shot a bullet that skidded right past your leg, causing you to wince in pain.

the man who shot you fell to the floor, gun clattering to the floor. you scowled at the red starting to slowly spread through your pants and decided that it wasn't bad enough for you to have to treat it at the moment.

"i'll just fix that at the safehouse. i've wasted enough time," you sighed to yourself, turning back around and continuing on your way.

as you left the building, you scanned the area outside in case there were any more cartel members, looking deeply into the shadows that could easily deceive you and cost you your life. if the area wasn't clear, you would be easily identifiable on the way to the alley, almost nothing to cover you and nothing but cars on the street to prevent you from being shot again.

after verifying that the coast was clear, you ran to the alley that you decided was going to be the way you made it to the RV from, since it would be easy to blend in with the cover of the night and was the fastest way to the abandoned house.

of course, that was true. but it was also true for whoever else could possibly be in the narrow road with you.

you hissed occasionally, debating if you should make a makeshift bandage for your leg before continuing on.

"viper, how copy?" ghost's voice crackled, breaking you from your thoughts

"i'm alive," you responded, gripping onto your radio. "son of a bitch shot me in the leg though."

"you got him?"

"of course, Lt."

"atta girl."

a few moments of silence passed, the only sound being your soft footsteps echoing off the walls, and then, something else.

you turned around quickly, gun ready. your eyes shot left and right, waiting for something to come out of the darkness. with your luck, they wouldn't even come out of the black pit and simply just shoot you.

"viper, pay attention." it felt like you could hear him from above, and also from the radio. was he watching over you? you would ask him about that later.

"fucking christ ghost, what the fuck do you me-" you stopped when you saw a dull glimmer from the moonlight hitting something metallic.

before you could react, or even pinpoint where exactly the person was, two shots rang out.

you heard a thump, and felt a sharp pain in your arm.

"fuck!" you yelped, dropping your gun to grip onto your left arm, feeling blood seep through.

"you alright?" you knew that you didn't hear a hint of worry in his voice. you knew he would chastise you when you got back for your late reaction time on now two occasions and how you could've died. he just wants to know you aren't lying dead on the floor.

"yes, sir. i'll get through it. i'm guessing you got them?" your bloody hand made the radio all sticky, and you bit your lip as you ripped a piece of your pants off and wrapped it tightly around your arm.

he ignored your question, or maybe you took your hand off the radio trigger a bit too early. "we're close enough to the RV point, i'll take the bullet out there."

your gaze went up to the sky, squinting to see if ghost was there. after not even hearing a single noise, you continued on your way to the rendezvous, retrieving your gun from the floor.

☆☆.

"miss me, lieutenant?" you limped into the building, grinning.

he had his arms crossed, and you couldn't read the look in his eyes.

"still mad at me? i'm here, in the flesh," you set your gun down against the wall and stalked past him, looking for some bandages and tweezers.

"what was that back there?" he finally spoke in the silence. "if i wasn't there, or if he didn't have such shit aim, what do you think would've happened?"

"good thing you were there," you snapped. "now before you start scolding me like some fucking grandma with her panties in a twist, how about you help me take this cold ass bullet out of me?"

you heard him let out a growl as he came closer to you, and you nearly sunk into the floor with how he towered over you.

the two of you stared at each other, and you narrowed your eyes, standing your ground. if anyone looked at the scene from the outside, they would find the height difference laughable as you craned your neck up to see him. most times, you loved the height difference and would even build your fantasies around how he could easily pick you up, but in times like this you despised his massive build and height.

"alright, sit down," he gruffly said, his expression still unreadable. "don't think i'll forget about this shit you got yourself into."

you frowned and made your way to the chair he gestured towards, taking off your gear and lifting your sleeve up.

he unwrapped your makeshift bandage and examined the wound.

"don't fucking flinch," he brought a lantern closer to the two of you and took the tweezers from your hand.

you shivered at the contact, but ghost seemed to not notice or he paid no attention to it.

you let out a groan of pain as he began retrieving the bullet.

"holy fuck ghost, can't you make it hurt any less?" you said through your teeth.

"what, do you want me to kiss it better? fucking hell viper, did you think me taking the bullet out was going to be all happy and fun?" he kept his attention on the wound.

you shut your mouth, not knowing how to respond. your breath came out harder as you tried not to cry out.

"what if kissing it better will help?" the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself.

the tweezers paused where they were, and you saw his eyes meet yours for a second before going back to the work at hand.

"for fucks sake, shut your mouth," he shook his head, acting disinterested, and continued. through the pain, you started observing him and the way his muscles tensed and untensed, his focused gaze on getting that bullet out of you, and his mask.

"ever gonna take the mask off?" you questioned.

"weren't you there with soap? the mask doesn't come off." he replied, and you heard a little ding as the bullet fell out.

you let out a sigh of relief, and ghost pulled away, grabbing a needle and some thread. as he turned his back, your eyes quickly shot down and back up before he could realize your attention on certain parts of him.

"how's your leg?" he nodded his head towards the bloodied side of your pants.

"he grazed it a bit." you pulled your pant leg up, slightly whimpering as the rough material slid over the open wound.

"bloody hell viper, that's fucking deep," he sighed. "i'm going to have to stitch this up also."

you frowned. "you sure this needs stitches, Lt? maybe if you put a little band aid on, kissed it, and called it a day, it'll heal," you winked.

"how about you stitch up your own damn self then, twat? you talk to all your superiors like this?"

"nope. you jealous?" you smirked.

"it sounds like you want to stich yourself up and have first watch," he replied as he started stitching you up without warning.

"holy fuck, ghost! a little warning?"

"maybe you should pay more attention to you surroundings. still haven't caught on that you could've died today? twice, apparently." he skillfully closed the tear on your arm, and then moved on to your leg, lifting your thigh up and setting it on a little stool.

"well i sure fucking didn't, did i? i never die on y'all," you were starting to get annoyed of being reprimanded like a little kid.

a shock of pain shot through your leg, but you ignored it through your anger. all he's going to do is constantly talk about this. maybe he's even lost complete trust in you when it comes to being alert and undistracted.

you loved it when he talked to you, having a "little" crush on him for years now, ever since the first time you worked with him, but you knew ghost would never let his work life mix with his love life. but him being pissed off and annoyed with you never felt good.

you looked down again at ghost closing up your laceration. your ears were nearly buzzing at how silent it was, and said,

"ever had a girlfriend?"

ghost hummed, seemingly now unsurprised in your random questions.

"no, i haven't."

"too handsome for them? the girls over there in the uk not good enough for you?" ghost put the last stich in your leg and began cleaning up, getting up from his place where he was crouching, which you noticed with a grin was one of the only times he was shorter than you.

"i don't think about dating. is that why you were so distracted today?" his accented voice made you have goosebumps with how close to your ear he was.

"what if i was distracted by someone?" you got up from the chair, wobbling a little due to the pain and probably even the amount of blood you lost on the way here.

"well, you sure as hell better stop thinking of them by tomorrow," he quickly grabbed your arm to prevent you from falling over, and your face flushed.

"but if they're always around me, how am i supposed to stop thinking about them?"

"so you have a little schoolgirl crush?"

"i wouldn't call it a schoolgirl crush. i've known them for years."

you saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

"if you want them so bad that you can't focus in an area with a bunch of threats, maybe you got to fucking get over it or tell them how you feel already. i don't need you making rookie mistakes on your missions."

"so i should confess to them?"

there was a pause before ghost responded, "do i look like a fucking love fairy? do whatever you have to do to start paying attention."

you made your way in front of him, preparing for the rejection of your life. hey, at least that would most definitely stop you from thinking about him all the time.

you looked up through your eyelashes at the built man towering above you.

"i fucking like you, simon."

"what was that?"

your head flung upwards to look at him, his hand gripping onto your chin.

"i said, i fucking like you," your eyebrows furrowed, and your face heated up in embarrassment. you attempted to look anywhere but him, but it was kind of hard when his face was right in front of yours, to the point where you could see every single little scratch and imperfection in his well loved skull mask.

"so i was the one distracting you this whole time?"

"yes! jesus christ, are you gonna kiss me or not?" you decided to let that slip from your mouth, impatient in how he was going to respond.

a hint of amusement danced in his eyes, and he took his hand away from your chin and lifted his mask off just barely to the point where you could see his plump lips, the yellow light from the lantern casting shadows on his face.

he inched closer, all the way to where you could feel his breath on your face and all you could see was his eyes. you licked your lips in anticipation, finally being able to kiss the one person you've wanted to kiss ever since you were a young rookie.

"will this make you pay attention?"

☆☆.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Request: I'm already back for more. As l've already told you I love your interpretation of a reader with dwarfism and since you are okay with me requesting more, can I get multiple headcanons of Gotham!Rogues x Dwarf!reader with just either simply day to day headcanons or their first reaction to meeting/seeing them? Rogues including jervis(obv Imao), Jerome, Oswald, Victor fries, Zsasz, and ra's al ghul!

The plot can be the reader being similar to the Cheshire Cat or Nightcrawler when it comes to teleportation powers. They're friends with Barbara, Selina, and Tabitha. The rogues always see photos on them on the news, newspapers, and sometimes in person but if they even get caught staring, reader teleports themself and whoever they're with away, so they don't really get a chance to talk or know them.

Like last time, only write this if you're okay with it and I'll understand if you can't or just don't want too!

Thank you tons again! - anon

‘VOULEZ-VOUS,

-GOTHAM VILLIANS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Jervis Tetch, Jerome Valeska, Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Fries, Victor Zsasz, Ra's Al Ghul

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; gotham villians with a cheshire cat!reader who has dwarfism!

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. FLUFF! I love readers power SOSOSOSO much! Super creative <3 Also villians being whipped for reader just cuz they can. Protective Tabitha. REALLY protective Oswald. Jerome's a bit insensitive. Victor Zsasz is not immune to a pretty girls smile. Have never written for Victor Fries or Ra's, so fingers crossed their parts aren’t too bad! Ra’s and Fries parts got a little angsty

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝐸𝑇𝐶𝐻

♫ “Across the room, your eyes are glowin' in the dark." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Oh, the man is completely enthralled with you. How could he not be? You're the missing piece to his wonderland puzzle.

Similarly to Alice, he believes your powers go hand and hand with each other. He rules the mind, while you have complete control of your body. His first thought when he see's you in the newspaper is simple.

He must have you.

He will do anything it takes to track you down. He finds himself becoming more and more entranced with the prospect of you working with him, partners in crime, connected body and soul. Of course those feelings of admiration become obsession.

Before you know it, the man is going lengths to find you; just like how he was with Alice. Hiring Jim Gordon as a bounty hunter? Mayhaps...

When he finally finds you at the siren's club, he can't help but be in awe. You're so small, so fragile, so unique. He wants to kiss your flattened cheekbones that look like pure porcelain. Your his doll.

"My dear, Y/N!" He's calling when he finds you, his teeth spread into a wide grin. He finds your eyes quickly turning to meet his gaze, glowing underneath the club's light. His shadow towers over you.

"You look ravishing, I must admi-" He goes to speak, just before you disappear from thin air. His mouth is open for a few moments, eyebrows scrunched.

Where did his precious little Cheshire Cat go?

Oh yeah, he's pouting. He's never been a fan of the disappearing act. But he doesn't mind. He's determined. He's played this game with Alice for far too long, he will not take no for an answer.

You'll find notes, gifts, flowers, dresses tailored to your sizing. All perfectly crafted from Gotham's most professional hypnotized seamstresses or florists.

Barbara is smirking when she finds the gifts, cackling about how sweet small little Y/N has a loony admirer. Tabitha's less than pleased, throwing out any bouquet she finds before you see them. Selina agrees, the guy's a freak.

It's up to you if you want to give him a chance <3 He would be the most devoted lover and partner if you decided too...if not a bit overly infatuated.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝛰𝑀𝐸 𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐸𝑆𝐾𝐴

♫ “Nothing promised, no regrets." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Uh oh! Murderous clown on the loose, and he's also 100% fixated, just like a certain hatter.

Jerome brushes you off at first, don't get him wrong, he adores your work on the city. Nothing he loves more than seeing some horribles destroy Gotham! He's a fan, if you could call him that.

It takes him some time to warm up to the idea of being whipped. But once he is, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

Similar to Jervis- he can't help himself. You're powerful. You're strange. You're a freak just like him and the rest of these bad boys in Gotham! You remind him of the circus, all different shapes and sizes of people around him. You belong with him. By his side. On his side. Maybe sitting in his lap... What?

Yeah, he's not sure where that came from either. But hey, he's not complaining! He likes to think he's a bachelor, a young beau waiting for his turn in the love game! Before he knows it, he's slicking his hair back, putting on his finest and most colorful suits, and making sure his face is stapled all the way. Then he's getting his cult to crash the Siren's club. Moment of silence for Tabitha who will have to clean it up after.

The place is a shit show, people in makeup dancing wildly and giggling manically. Tabitha, Barbra, Selina and you get tied up in the confusion. It's hard to fight back against a bunch of crazies when your expensive alcohol is being thrown at walls, and you four are simultaneously tied up together in one big rope. Barbra's throwing a bit of a hissy fit.

Everyone is quiet when Jerome enters, dressed to the nines, with a loud and boisterous,

"Hey gorgeous! I'm sure you've heard of me," He speaks, bending down to your level, invading your personal space. He goes to continue, until the four of you evaporate before him. Teleported away. He's left staring at the loose ropes, smile unchanged- but eyes widened in surprise.

Oh. Okay. So that's how it's gonna be. Alright.

Jerome loves a game of cat and mouse.

He craves attention. He loves the center stage, and he will not be ignored. No no no no.

He will not leave your club alone until you confront him. Yeah, sorry Babs and Tabs. Barbara will start urging you to just "sleep with the damn clown!" while Tabitha is trying desperately to not have you anywhere near that creep.

But the club isn't all he'll do, doll! No, he'll get his cult to do more and more mass murders and sprees across the city, each one broadcasted on live television. Each time, he looks into the camera, blood on his face, professing his undying love.

"This is for you, Y/N!" He's showcasing the violence around, "Call me!" He gestures, ending the broadcast abruptly.

Well, kind of hard to ignore a man when your club is in shambles, Barbara is going batshit insane, AND you have Jim Gordon trying to find you; just in order to stop these massacres around the city in your honor.

Once again, you should give the man a chance! He doesn't think he'd make a horrible boyfriend, y'know, if you're into gingers.

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “Take it now or leave it." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Ozzie's a bit harder to gauge, because I don't think he'd become infatuated with someone unless he got to meet them first. So for arguments sake, we are just going to say you two have meet previously on many occasions! Specifically when he's had some bad blood with Barbara and Tabitha.

At first, he detests you. He thinks you're a nuisance, and a powerful tool for the Siren's. You can escape from ANYONES grasp, and take them with you. His nose is scrunching up every time he thinks of just how he can get rid of you.

Well, if he can't get rid of you, he's well versed in manipulation. Perhaps he can convince you to join his team.

You're going about your day at the club, tending bar on a step stool, the usual. Oswald comes in, Victor trailing behind him. Tabitha and Barbara are instantly on alert.

"Hello." Oswald fixes his suit jacket, rolling his cane in his fingertips. He wears a faux smile, and Tabitha huffs.

"What can we help you with, Ozzie?" Barbara is smiling, just as fake as his. It's a weird Gotham crime boss stand-off.

"I was wondering if you, my dear," He speaks, suddenly nodding down to you, "Would like to accompany me for lunch tomorrow."

Yeah, everyone's jaws drop, including Oswald's at the silence. Oswald didn't necessarily intend for it to sound like he was trying to ask you on a date. He's flushing red under everyone's gaze, suddenly fidgeting. If you look closely, Victor's giving a lazy amused smirk in the back.

"Like hell-" Tabitha's about to answer for you, before you squint at the man.

"Sure." You scan him up and down, hesitantly. Before anyone has a chance to speak, Oswald's turning on his heel.

"Wonderful! 2:00 sharp. Don't be late." He's smiling, knowing he's got a one-up on the Siren's.

...Well, leave it Oz to have things never work out quite his way. One lunch turns into two, and two turns into three. He's forcing himself to remember why he's doing this; you are just a tool. This is all a charade!

Hard to focus though, when you two seem to enjoy one another's company. Like when you show him what it feels like to teleport, (He's closing his eyes in fear, only for it to feel like nothing.) Or when you two have a strangely intimate discussion about what it was like growing up not very normal.

He's opening up about his schoolyard bullies, about his mother. About the feeling of being taunted, teased for his nose or height. You tell him, you know the feeling.

He stares at you, eyes focused solely on you. He's enamored.

He turns viciously protective over you. Any snide comment made towards you by a henchman of his, or a frequent at the Siren's club, they are brutally stabbed to death, a bit impulsively, with a bottle shard.

When he realizes he's falling in love with you, similar to Jervis, he likes doing grand gestures to get your attention. If there's anything you desire, you'll get it. Which is why when he finds out you're avoiding him, he becomes sour.

What? Why are you leaving him? He doesn't understand. The intimacies you two have shared, did they mean nothing to you? He's hurt, he's angry, he's aggressive. He's more irritable than usual; and judging from the fact he's irritable ALL the time, it's pretty bad. If you don't explain yourself, this sadness will probably turn into anger. He already believes you two have some weird pseudo-romantic relationship, so he's taking this like a break-up. He's a vengeful ex.

Whenever he stops by the Siren's club, and sees you teleport away at the sight of him, it stings. It all comes to a head when he's breaking down in his mansion. You will have to be the one to confront him, because he'll be too busy sulking. He loves you. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. If you don't want to talk to him, he won't force you, even if he's going crazy trying to figure out why.

When he sees you, he's standing up in a hurry, fumbling over his words, sniffling. His blue-green eyes are puffy, and you'll have to sigh and talk to him.

Please, tell him why your avoiding him. Explain if you're insecure, if you're scared of loving. He'll be thankful for the explanation. He'll be angry on your behalf for anyone who made you believe you were unloved, whether for your dwarfism or your powers. He's promising to kill for you, tear down the city to avenge you.

"Okay, Oz, I'm not dead yet."

"Yet?!"

Cuties <3

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆

♫ “Now is all we get." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Forgive him, he’s trying his hardest not to care, and failing miserably.

Similarly to Ozzie, I can’t see him becoming infatuated or obsessed like Jerome and Jervis so quickly, not since what happened with Nora. So, I’m imagining you’ve also met him once or twice; using your powers for the sirens, just like he and firefly have done some hitjobs for you four in the past.

He’s in love with the idea of having a family; of being accepted, of leaving this life behind. It’s made him bitter, cold; but the man will do anything for love. Anything.

And it’s hard not to notice the small woman running around on her toes in the club, parts of her body vanishing here and there. You’re gorgeous to him. Those small cheshire-like smiles you send him when he’s supposed to be working. They break his hard exterior. He doesn’t know if he loves or hates it. He loves it.

Even a small pit of jealousy fills him, whenever he sees you in the news. Or when he watches silently on the sidelines, while you talk with Barbara and Tabitha and Selina. You do it so effortlessly. How could anyone not be entranced by you?

He thinks that he’s a freak. Firefly’s a freak. Just like Jerome and Oz, he definitely finds solace in the idea you are just like him. You’re one of them; a freak. Pushed out by Gotham’s careless inhabitants, forced into this life. He remembers being driven out of town by Penguins army. He wonders if you’ve expirenced the same treatment at one point in your life. He wants to show you, he’s here for you. He loves you, every part of you. No matter how unconvential or mistreated. He just wants to take care of you.

Just like Oz, he’ll be ready to kill anyone for you. Freeze em’ to death in one single sweep. Just give him the go ahead.

Victor is terrified of hurting you, as well. Not only your tiny stature, but he’s sure he’d get ice burns from his fingertips. He imagines a life where it’s just the two of you, without the cold, back when he was just himself. He dreams of cooking for you. Owning an apartment. Even having a family. He swears, he’d be gentle. But he’s too uncertain. He isn’t good enough, and he certainly isn’t good for you.

You’ll have to be the first person to talk to him, warm up to him. He might not state it directly, other than a nonchalant nod here and there, but it makes him feel special. It’s the little interactions you two have that make him fall helmet over heels.

You two will spend hours, at the club, watching from the sidelines. Barbara and Tabitha out on business, Selina doing…Selina things. You’ll poke fun at the passerby’s to get a reaction out of him.

“Oh god, I just saw that guy kissing that girl- what’s he doing with that other chick?…Oh- they are making out. Oh, okay, he’s taking him to the back. I’ll give you $20 if Barbara kills this guy for doing it on her desk.” You’re snickering, gossiping. Every now and then you look over at him to see him already staring at you, the hint of a smile on his lips. It’s all you’ll get for now…until he responds.

“…Guess you’ll owe me $20 then.” He’s firing back, voice low. It’s the first time he’s spoken. The first time you’ve seen him do something other than brooding. It’s sweet.

These little things will become routine, and he’ll find solace in them. Eventually you’ll even play some tricks with your teleportation on the clubs costomers, scaring them, bumping into them. All the while you’re watching him in the corner, smiling, exhaling through his nose. He playfully scolds you sometimes, other times he chuckles. Either way, it’s a sight to see.

God, please don’t dissapear on this man. I don’t think he could take it. Gotham be damned, if you ever find yourself scared of him, he’d be broken. He’d think it was his fault, he’d think he lost his second chance at love. If you ran away from him, he might just up and leave Gotham.

But even if you did try to avoid him for awhile, I think he’d let you go without a fight. He’d just be more sulky than usual, more prone to picking petty fights with Firefly. You might find the room uncomfortably cold, even when he’s not occupying it. (He froze the AC to the club, he was upset. Sorry Barbara.)

I think he’s the only one on this list of characters that Barbara, Tabitha, and Selina might all actively approve of. Barbara wouldn’t mind having a henchman dating her bestie; soldifies his loyalty to them. Also, he’s good eye-candy. Tabitha doesn’t have any personal issue with the man, other than previously working with Penguin, of course. Selina will still make fun of him for being a walking freezer, but hey, what can you do. You have their blessing.

If you caught him before he decided to up and leave, explain to him why you run away, why you’ve been avoiding him. He won’t just understand, he’ll practically worship you. He’ll explain himself too, why he’s terrified of touching you. It’s not because of your dwarfism, or your powers. It’s just how he’s afraid of hurting or loosing you. Loving people is hard.

If he could cry, he would. But his tears will freeze when they touch his cheek. You’ll have to show him you aren’t fragile. He’ll believe you.

You guys can heal eachother.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “The girl means business, so I'll offer her a drink." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

THIS Victor, on the other hand, is much more brash in his approaches to courting you.

He’s heard about you on the radio, from his boss, seen you in the newspapers, on the tv, watched you from the window in your apartment.

…What? Who said that?

He studies your every move. The man is calculated in his methods, what can he say? He’s not obsessed! (loud incorrect buzzer)

He just wants to size you up a little, see who the newest danger is in Gotham. He’ll convince himself he’s doing it for his boss, whether it be Falcone or Penguin. But it definitely goes deeper.

Unlike the other villians on this list that see your dwarfism as something to empathize with, Victor doesn’t really pay it any mind. He’s been around the block a few times- he’s been with women of all ages, heights, race, etc. The man really doesn’t have a type. What he’s attracted to is strength, independence, someone who will laugh at his dry humor with him. He’s stalked you at the club. He sees the way you banter with Tabitha and Selina, the way you make Barbara dissapear when she’s being too annoying with a flick of your wrist.

He’s incredibly attracted to a woman whose witty and good at what they do. Just like him.

Victor’s more subtle in his approach. He’ll make it casual.

So when you’re at the bar in the club, sitting around, watching the passerby’s, he’ll make his move.

“Now, what’s a girl like you doing here, alone?” He sneaks up behind you, giving you a start. You flush red at the man in front of you. Victor Zsasz. The words are spoken as he drums his fingers on the bar, cocking his head at your short frame. He towers over you, caging you in.

When you don’t speak, it doesn’t phase him. You’re about to teleport away in an instant, until he drawls your attention back to him with a lazy smile.

“So…” He whistles. “What’s your drink of choice? Wait- Let me guess.” The man doesn’t stop talking, listing off drinks that are most definitely not your drink of choice.

He watches you all the time. He knows exactly what your favorite drink is. But he wants you to stay.

It’s a bit awkward, a bit intimidating, and strangely charming. He speaks with an inflection that borders on sarcasm and curiosity. It’s intriguing, coming from Gotham’s most dangerous hitman.

“Can I ask-“ You squeak, now nursing a drink he ordered for you. It’s a Vodka Cran, and it could be worse. “…Is there a hit on me?”

He stares at you expressionless for uncomfortably long, before it forms into something quizzical.

“…Nah,” His voice is slow. He clicks his tongue. “Just an admirer.”

There’s an awkward scilence. He shrugs.

“Y’know. I’m a big fan of this place. Like the ambience.” He sips his own drink, you don’t know what it is. Just as his words sound out, you swear you can overhear a gunshot in the distance, probably from Barbara’s meeting with some other underground boss. Somehow, the sentiment makes you laugh.

He perks up at the sound.

You aren’t used to this. Someone being so casual about you, your powers, your small stature. He’s a bit flirty from time to time, but between the alcohol and his quips, you don’t seem to mind. He seems oddly genuine in his demeanor with every compliment or joke that slips.

You two keep the banter going for the rest of the night. Mostly chatting about how tiring your respective bosses can be. He does a poor drunken impression of Penguin, and you do one of Barbara. It’s a relaxing night in comparison to what you usually expirence living in Gotham.

You think you only see him every so often. Coming by the club whenever Penguin comes, or when a job is sent out, and his target is there. He’ll always send you a wink when he leaves, blood on his face.

But he sees you every day.

Yeah, the stalking only worsens. If you find your phone in different places throughout the day, or your window reopened, he’s the reason why.

He’s fine like this. In his head, the two of you are going steady. He’s pretty committed. You’re his girl, and that’s that.

Until you start avoiding him like the plague.

Zsasz WILL find a way to confront you. He doesn’t care if you teleport away each and everytime. He’ll find a way to get the message clear, through other means.

If you find a “talk to me.” with a smiley face, written with some poor saps blood, on your mirror, I apologize. He’s gotta get the message sent somehow.

Yeah, he won’t give up. He’ll go great lengths to get you two back together. He’s also listening to disco break-up ballads to cope. He’s getting the zsaszettes to stalk you when he can’t. If you still won’t budge, yeah, Tabitha might end up with a gun pointed at her head until you talk to him.

He’s not necessarily angry, but chasing after you is certainly taking a toll on him. Give the guy some credit.

Tabitha, still with a gun pointed at her, will be barking at you to not talk to him. He’s a creep, he’s an asshole, and you shouldn’t compromise your honor! (His eye will twitch at her words, trigger finger itching.)

Up to you what you decide to do! Explain the situation, talk to him, make things official, or…bye bye Tabitha. And that still won’t stop him. He doesn’t take rejection very seriously.

When you tell him exactly why you teleport yourself away, he’s the only one on this list who might think it’s stupid. He’ll understand, don’t get me wrong, but this is Gotham! Why would you be insecure? He garuntees you he’s met at least ten other people with far worse skeletons in their closet. You’ll have to teach him that’s not the issue.

Yeah, our little sociopath has a hard time with feelings. But I think you two would maybe be good for eachother! Teach him to listen more, whip him up into shape, and reap the benefits of having Gotham’s number one hitman as your personal bodyguard and lover. He’ll take you to stakeouts, make fun of Jim Gordon, crash your place. You two can watch Netflix under the blankets. He loves your size- cuddling into you like his own personal pillow.

Tabitha’s very dissapointed.

𝑅𝐴’𝑆 𝐴𝐿 𝐺𝐻𝑈𝐿

♫ “I'm really glad you came, you know the stars, you know the game.” Voulez-Vous by ABBA

May god have mercy on your soul, reader. Ra’s is a sight to behold when he’s in love.

He heard whispers of your name all around Gotham. He sees you on the news when he’s absentmindedly listening. A girl who can teleport herself and others, to any location? Even the power to control which body parts you maneuver. Extrodinary.

He’s immeadiatley infatuated with your power. He wants to covet you. Possess you. Have you close to him. He needs to see your power for himself.

He’s similarly calculated in his response to tracking you down. He will appear at the club, slinking into the shadows, whispering a quaint,

“Hello.”

It makes you jump, and as if on instinct, you teleport yourself away. He marvels at the way in which you do so right infront of his eyes. How rare it is, for him to be so easily confounded.

He must see you again.

You’ll feel his presence every now and then. Maybe even catch a glimpse of him watching you. You’ll turn back, eyes squinted, only to find he’s not there anymore. It confuses you just the same.

Though, you eventually get used to him watching. It turns into a little game between the two of you. If he can catch you, if you can catch him. It’s strangely endearing.

He’s also becoming increasingly more attentive to your daily habits. He memorizes your schedule. He sends members of the League of Shadows to observe you, to take notes on how you use your powers.

If any member insults you, or pokes fun at your dwarfism, Ra’s will spare them no mercy. Yeah…he’s making it a big deal. He’s ruthlessly insulting them for their ignorance, before killing them without a second thought. In a way, you belong to Ra’s already. He will not stand for disrespect among his order.

Ra’s is a gentleman. Just like Ozzie and Jervis, you’ll find gifts littered around your apartment. Little notes from him, written in the most exquisite cursive, expressing his admiration of you. Beautiful, rare, and expensive jewelry, tailored to the size of your wrists and neck.

You’ll see him exiting Barbara’s office sometimes, when he needs her for the demons head. He’ll send you a smile, half-way gentle, half-way playful. He’s unsure where the lines between love and facination blur; but he’s slowly realizing he loves you. He hasn’t felt such a way in decades. He’s been alive for very very long. No human woman has made him feel so helpless. He enjoys it thoroughly.

He’ll confess, the night before Gotham is meant to be blown to the ground. He’ll turn up, before the events are set in motion. You won’t have a clue in the world what he’s up to.

“My dear.” He’ll drawl, and you’ll go to teleport away, as you always do. It’s tradition for you two at this point.

Before you get a chance, he’ll click is tongue at you.

“Wait.” He speaks, voice sounding strangely desperate. It makes you freeze. “Come with me. Leave the city. Get somewhere else. I’d like to show you my home.”

Your choice, if you choose to leave with him. He’d make for a very attentive lover, and would protect you at any cost. But if you choose to do so, you’ll leave Tabitha and Barbara and Selina to their own fate <\3

Not that it matters if you decide to reject his offer. He’ll have you, one way or another.

[ghuleh-witch]

Stay ~ Copia x Female!Reader

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explict Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, blood drinking, oral sex, p in v sex Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Female!Reader Characters: Papa Emeritus IV, Female!Reader Additional Tags: Dracopia, Vampire!Copia, no use of y/n Words: 3,758 Summary: Instead of meeting the Hat Man in your Benedryl-induced dreams, you meet Copia.

Author's Note:

So you know how people say they see the Hat Man when they take Benedryl? Yea, this was inspired by that idea. This is only the second fic I've written in a second-person point of view, and the first fic I've written in the present tense, so I apologize for any mistakes in point of view or tense. I also apologize for any poorly Google-translated Italian you might see in this fic.

AO3

You can’t sleep. The seasonal changes brought about your allergies and the sneezing, sore throat, and watering, stinging eyes made it impossible to get any kind of rest. You sigh as you look at the two small, pink pills in your hand. Benedryl would be sure to put you to sleep and ease your symptoms. You couldn’t sneeze if you were in a coma. You pop the pills and down a glass of water before changing into your pajamas—a pair of cotton shorts that barely covers your ass, and a thin, white t-shirt. You crawl into bed and make yourself cozy in your nest of blankets, pillows, and plushies. The Benedryl starts to take over and as your eyes grow heavy, a yawn escapes you. 

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake again it’s dark. The tv show you fell asleep to is long over leaving you stare at a black screen.You sit up and rub your eyes, looking for your phone to check the time. You feel alright physically but you know something is off. As your eyes squint through the darkness of your bedroom, you spot a  humanoid shadow in the corner near your window. A chill runs down your spine as fear seeps into your bones. The shadow steps forward and the moonlight illuminates its features. The shadow is a man or something that looks like a man at least. He looks older than you, maybe in his late 40s or early 50s. His face is painted in black and white skull paint and his hair is combed back. The mismatched eyes, one a color you can’t discern, and the other the brightest of white stare into you. 

“W-who are you?” You ask, pushing yourself back against your headboard and making yourself appear small. Maybe if you look defenseless whoever is standing in front of you won’t hurt you.

The figure says nothing as he approaches. He’s wearing a dark-colored jacket with fraying around the edges of the lapels, a blue cravat tied around the high-neck black shirt, and tight black pants that were distressed, frayed, and patched dawned his impressive legs. You find the man handsome and fascinating despite the fear surging through you.

The man smirks at you, now just a foot away from the edge of your bed. “I think the better question is what are you doing in my word, cara ?”

“Your world? This is my bedroom,” you said, your eyes darting around as though to confirm you are indeed in your room.

“Hmmm, it may be your room in your world, but you’re not in your world anymore. You’re in mine.” He’s closer, his gloved hands now bracing himself on the bed as he leans forward. He inhales deeply, as though taking in your scent, and lets out a contentful sigh. “You smell delicious, cara .”

“W-what?” You ask, your eyes wide in shock and fear as you lean away from him. “This is a dream. I’ve got to be dreaming.” 

He chuckles, a gloved hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “You better hope and pray that you make it safe back to your own world.”

Your eyes snap open as you sit straight up in bed. The sunlight from the window on the other side of the room is filtering through the sheer curtains, bathing your room in warm light. You let out a sigh of relief. “Just a dream,” you say, falling back against your pillows. You feel your heart racing in your chest, but you can’t tell if it is from fear or the touch of the man from your dreams. You might have been afraid, but you get the sense that the man will not actually hurt you. 

~~~

It is another night of allergies ruining your rest, and two Benedryl later, you are dozing off once more. You fall into the same dream. You wake up in your dark bedroom and the man from your dream days prior is there once more. He stands at the foot of your bed smirking at you.

“Welcome back, cara ,” he says. 

“How did I get back here?” You ask. 

“Your mind, eh, reached out for me,” he says as though he’s not sure how you got back there either.

“Who even are you?”

“Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Copia. I already know your name.”

“How?”

“Beh, I have my ways,” he says as he walks around to your side of the bed. “You don’t seem as fearful today.”

“Well this is a dream and you can’t hurt me in a dream. It’s not real,” you say almost smugly.

He lets out a chuckle. “Are you sure about that, tesoro ?”

Doubt fills you at his words. This isn’t just any average dream and deep down you know that. This is different; almost like you fell into a parallel universe. 

“Ah I see your gears turning,” Copia says, leaning closer to you. He inhales your scent once more and smiles, flashing your two long, sharp canines. “You still smell delicious.”

Your eyes stay on his mouth and the fangs he bears. “What are you?” You have a suspicion, but you want confirmation.

His lips curve upward. “Why, cara , I am a vampire. I thought it was obvious.” 

“It was not,” you respond. “At least not until I saw the fangs.”

“Are you scared?” 

You stop and think about it. Were you scared? You aren’t sure how you feel now. Fear isn’t the right word though. You don’t think he will hurt you, and the detail about him being a vampire? That didn’t bother you. If anything, it excites you. 

“No,” you answer.

He’s even closer now. He smells of bergamot and cedar and it’s intoxicating. You feel his breath on your skin as he speaks into your ear. “You should be,” he growls as his hand comes to your throat and tilts it away from him, exposing the smooth skin of your neck. You saw a flash of fangs and—

You wake, the sunlight making a bright spot on the ceiling above you that makes you squint. You sit up and look around your room. You’re alone once more. 

“Fuck.”

~~~

You want to see Copia again. After the last dream, or visit, you had with him, you find yourself wanting him. You want his hands all over you. You want his fangs and teeth on your skin. You want him all. 

Unfortunately, you are out of the medication that allows you to have the strange dreams. As you lay in bed, you will yourself to go to sleep. Your mind focuses on Copia—his face, his eyes, his scent. You’re not sure if you will see him in your dreams tonight. Perhaps he only lives in the dreams Benedryl allows you to have. 

Eventually, you fall asleep and wake a few hours later. Your room is dark and quiet. The moonlight gives the room a soft glow. You look at your phone. It’s just after two in the morning. You look around your room and don’t see anyone. Copia isn’t hiding in the shadows waiting to step out towards you. He’s only ever a dream fueled by medication it seems. You sigh sadly as you turn onto your side. You close your eyes, fully intent on falling back asleep, when you hear a voice.

“ Cara ,” it whispers. 

You crack your eyes open and sit up. Your window is open now, letting the cool autumn breeze into your room. “What the—” You say sleepily as you move to get out of bed. But before you can swing your legs off the bed’s edge, he’s standing next to you, dressed in the same outfit as the last two visits. 

“Is this a dream?” You ask as you blink. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if you are awake. 

“No,” Copia says as he steps forward. “I came to your world this time.” 

“Why?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“Because I have to have you, tesoro ,” he says, his gloved hand coming to grip your chin and tilt it upwards to look at him. “ Sono qui per prendere ciò che è mio .” He leans down and his lips meet yours in a bruising and desperate kiss. 

Your hand comes up and your fingers curl into his jacket, gripping it tight as your lips move against his. You feel the points of his fangs lightly poking at your lips as he kisses you. His tongue darts into your mouth, tasting you as you let a soft whimper escape your throat. His teeth nip at your bottom lip before trailing down your jawline to your earlobe. You feel this breath in your ear and it sends a delightful shiver down your spine. His fangs graze down your neck before stopping just over your jugular. 

A sharp pain causes you to gasp and try to push away from him. It hurts so much and you want to get away. He grips you tightly, holding you to him making escape impossible. It feels like hot daggers piercing your skin and sending molten steel through your veins. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you feel trickles of blood run down your neck onto your shoulders, back, and chest. You feel Copia sucking your life essence into his mouth, and as he keeps going, the pain dissipates into pleasure. The molten steel finds its way to your sex and you can feel your wetness pooling there. As the endorphins flood your body, you moan, tilting your head back even further to give him more access. You feel his lips move upward into a smile against your skin. He seems pleased with how you are taking this now. 

His mouth pulls back from your neck and you feel his tongue lick the puncture marks he made. He peppers kisses back up your neck and jaw before coming to your lips again. The coppery taste of your blood lingers on his lips as he crawls onto the bed. Copia's knees are on either side of your thighs as he pushes your upper body back down onto the mattress. 

“Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to go and I will,” Copia says when the kiss breaks. His hand finds its way under your night shift and you feel the leather against your skin. 

“Please,” you say almost needily. “Don’t stop. Stay.” The idea of him stopping is unfathomable. You can’t stop. You need to go further—need that release that’s waiting for you. You need him and nothing else. 

He says nothing as he pushes your shirt up over your breasts. Your nipples grow hard at the sudden exposure to cool air. He smirks at you before dragging his tongue lazily over one of the buds. Your head lolls back at the sensation just as he takes the nipple between his lips and sucks on it. You let out a gasp as his teeth teases the sensitive skin. Before you become too lost in the feeling, he’s pulling your shirt off, gently helping lift your head and arms to remove it. The shirt drops out of sight on the floor as Copia's lips return to your breasts. As his mouth toys with you, his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts and panties and finds your center. They slide up and down your slit and it’s like the floodgates open in you. There’s so much pleasure in the simple touch, and you can’t even comprehend how good it will feel when he’s finally in you. He lifts his head and you see his eyes blown out with lust.

“So wet for me,” Copia says as his finger finds your clit. The motion drags a moan from your throat, your eyes rolling back into your head. “And so responsive too.”

“Please,” you whine, arching your hips into his hand.

“Please what, dolcezza ?” He asks. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.” 

“You,” you say. “I want your fingers, your mouth, your cock. I want you.” 

He chuckles, his tongue flicking over a nipple. “And you will have me,” he says. “When I decide you’re good and ready.” 

You whimper knowing he’s going to tease you into oblivion. He’s going to bring you to the edge but pull you back just before you tumble over. He’s going to decide when you can let go and you’re okay with that. 

“I wonder if you taste as good as your blood tastes, eh,” Copia says as his lips move from your breasts and presses kisses down your stomach. He pulls his hand out of your pants and tugs your shorts and lacey panties down together. They join the shirt on the floor. Copia’s eyes roam over your body, taking in every detail of you. “ Bella ,” he breathes, his fingers trailing down your chest before slipping between your thighs.

He rubs your clit, making you moan again and buck your hips. Copia smirks as he moves back and lowers his head. He gives you one last look before his mouth is on your pussy. His tongue flicks over your clit and swirls around it as his hands hold your hips down, preventing you from bucking against his face. You moan, your own hands finding their way into his hair and gripping his mousy locks. You’re getting close. You feel the pressure building in your core, aching to snap and come undone. You know you’re not going to last much longer when he slips his tongue into you.

“I’m close,” you pant, your fingers twisting in his hair and tugging. You can feel your release reaching its crest, and before you go over that peak, Copia pulls away from you. You let out a whine in frustration as your fingers are forced to let go of his hair.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he teases, his tongue licking his lips as he looks up at you. His skull paint is smeared around his mouth allowing the pink of his lips to show through the mix of now gray paint. “I’m not done with you just yet, cara .” His mouth moves to your inner thigh and he presses more kisses to your skin. He glances up at you before sinking his fangs into your thigh.

You are prepared for the feeling this time. That sharp, searing pain returns and you let out a whimper, but like the first time he bit you, the pain fades into a feeling of ecstasy. You watch as he takes your blood, his eyes are closed as though he is relishing in the taste. His mouth pulls away from your thigh before he licks the puncture wounds clean. 

“I can’t decide what tastes better. You or your blood. Both are exquisite,” he says, crawling back up to you and kissing your lips.

You taste a mix of your blood and your juices on his lips and it turns you on even more. He pulls away from you and is kneeling between your legs. You watch as he pulls the blue cravat from his neck before he peels off the jacket he’s wearing. You sit up and bat his fingers away from the buttons of his shirt. His eyes focus on you as you unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders. Your fingers trace the lines of a “666” tattoo about his nipple before replacing them with your lips. You trail kisses along his chest as Copia’s fingers thread through your hair. His fingers curl into a fist and tugs, pulling your head back from his chest so you’re looking into his eyes now. His mismatched eyes bore into yours before capturing your lips with his again.

Your hands slip between your bodies and begin to work the laces of his pants. You take the time to stroke his length that’s straining against the material of his jeans. He lets out a groan at your touch. You pull apart the bow that’s knotted together and begin loosening the laces as his tongue works its way into your mouth. You moan as his hands move yours away from him. Copia pulls back from you and slips off the bed, pushing the tight pants down his legs. He’s not wearing any underwear, you note. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with, and your desire skyrockets. You subconsciously lick your lips and his eyes watch you intently. 

“Do you like what you see, tesoro ?” He asks as he climbs back into your bed, positioning himself between your spread legs. 

“I do,” you answer, looking him up and down. Your pussy throbs with need. You need him more than you ever needed anyone before. 

He hums in response as his hands come to rest on the bed on either side of your head, caging you in as he holds himself above you. He leans down and kisses your lips almost tenderly this time. “Last chance,” he said. “I’ll go if you want me to.”

“Stay,” you say. “Stay with me.” 

His eyes are ablaze with carnal desire as he pushes himself back up, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it a couple of times before lining up with your entrance. He slides the head up and down your slit. The moan that left your mouth turns into a whimper as you lift your hips in want. He smirks at you, his eyes flicking to your face as he slowly pushes into you. He stretches you, creating a delicious sting as he fills you. 

“You’re so tight,” he pants as he bottoms out in you. “ Cazzo …”

You are in complete bliss. You didn’t think it was possible to feel as good as you do now. “You feel so good,” you breathe. “Oh god, you feel so good.” 

He pulls out slowly, almost as though he’s teasing you on purpose before he pushes back into you. You moan as your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper into you. He lets out a low groan, his eyes closing in a moment of bliss before he begins to move. His thrusts are hard and fast making you whimper and moan. Your eyes close, taking in every little detail of how this feels when you feel his hand on your cheek. 

“Open your eyes, cara,” he says in a low voice. “I want to see your eyes when you cum.” 

You obey and open your eyes to meet his. His hand falls away from your cheek and moves to your breast, massaging it and pinching the nipple as he continues to move in and out of you. You let out a small gasp at his touch and watch as his fingers lightly trail down your stomach and to your mound before finding your clit. He readjusts one of your legs, putting it up on his shoulder and allowing him to push into you even deeper.

You cry out at the new sensation, your fingers gripping the sheets under you while one of your hands grips his arm. Your nails dig into his skin so hard you think you’ll draw blood. You feel your core tighten as a familiar pressure begins to build in you. As he begins to stimulate your clit, you can’t help but let go. Your orgasm is intense as it burns through you, wiping your mind of all thought and making you see white for a second. You clench around his cock, making him moan as he stills in you for a second before continuing to fuck you. 

“That’s right, tesoro , cum on my cock,” he purrs. “ Cazzo , you look divine when you cum.” 

You can’t form a single response. All you can think about is how he is fucking you and how good it feels. “Oh god,” you moan as he continues to drive into you. His thrusts are relentless as he buries his face in your neck, nipping at the bite marks he created. He reopens the wound and drinks from you again, his cock twitching inside you. You start to feel a second orgasm building in you as he takes your blood once more.

He moans as he pulls away from your neck, his lips bloody as he kisses you hard. His thrusts become erratic and you know he’s close to losing it as well. His face scrunches as though he’s concentrating on something before thrusting into you sharply one…two…three more times. He’s panting something in Italian that you can’t make out. You feel him spill inside you and it’s enough to set off your own orgasm, milking him of all he has to give. He lets out a low groan as his forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed. 

The two of you are silent allowing the sound of your heavy breaths to fill the room. He opens his mismatched eyes and stares into yours. 

“ Sorprendente ,” he whispers, his lips finding yours again. He pulls out of you and moves to lie next to you. You let out a small whine at the loss of him before you roll onto your side to look at him. You know he isn’t going to stay. This isn’t his world after all. 

“Will I see you again?” You ask, hoping and praying you will. 

“You will,” he confirms, his gloved hand resting on your cheek. “I wish I could stay, but the sun will be up soon and I must return to my own world.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

You didn’t know how soon was soon, but you trust him. 

“Sleep, cara , I’ll stay as long as I can,” he says, this thumb stroking your cheek gently. It’s as though he has a hold over you and you obey, closing your eyes even though you didn’t want to. You feel his hand leave your face and rest on your hip as you slip into sleep.

When your eyes open again, it’s daylight out and Copia is gone. You’re convinced it was all a dream, but when you start to come to your senses, you realize you’re naked and your pajamas are still on the floor. You slip out of bed and go to the mirror hanging on your closet door. There are two small puncture marks on your neck and on your thigh. Your finger runs over the tiny bumps on your neck and you smile. You will see him again and you hope it’s in his world so you can stay as long as you wish.

Translations: Cara: dear/darling Tesoro: treasure Sono qui per prendere ciò che è mio: I’m here to take what’s mine. Dolcezza: sweetness Cazzo: fuck Sorprendente: amazing