#theme: ghosts

[thecutestgrotto]

Hi Erin! I love your art, it's very pretty and it makes my day to see it :D if you don't have any already done, could you perhaps do a few ghost-themed dividers, please? Thank you so so much!! 🫶

~🧶

Hiiiii! Thank you that’s so sweet 🥹💗 I got a little carried away with them but I hope they still fit, otherwise let me know no problem! 🩵🌸

Cute Spooky Ghosts

Spooky Masterlist

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Saltwater Stain by thestarryknight Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: M Word Count: 9k Seven days stuck on a boat investigating a rogue ghost wouldn't be so bad if Harry didn't want Draco so much. Draco has his rules and Harry's content to follow them, but the air feels different away from the shore. Is it possible that the sea could offer Harry something impossible on land?

[valkyrecs]

A really cute song with a ghost theme, with a cheery festival feel. Becoming a ghost is really just a re-birthday, don't sweat it!

[misireads]

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

[ audiobook, listened in english ]

an occult scholar doctor invites three people to join him to look for solid evidence of the phenomenon of haunting in an 80-year-old mansion named hill house that's said to be haunted because people keep dying around it.

the central character is a young woman with fragile mental health who steals a car to go to hill house in order to escape her own life. she's scared of the house, but things get bearable when she quickly befriends another woman who's been invited to the house. during the day, they seem to be enjoying the house. during the night, it's scaring them out of their minds. gradually, she starts to sense things that the others apparently don't.

🏡👻🚗

➕ i very much like the boo haunted house genre where a group of strange people go stay in a house to prove it's haunted, or to appease it or whatever.

➕ the real horror here is eleanor's mind, clearly. i enjoyed her unreliable narration a lot, this bitch got some issues. (what i liked a little less is that i related to a lot of it in the earlier chapters. she's overthinking every single thing, and thinks of theodora as her bff after knowing her for two hours because she's being nice to her, gets worried that theodora might start disliking her, then ends up disliking theodora herself for some petty little shit she says that can be interpreted as her making fun of eleanor. bonkers and unfortunately relatable for anyone with poor self esteem)

➕ i liked the prose… mostly. it's very poetic which i think works great for creating an atmosphere in horror.

➖ for an iconic work of the haunted house genre this sure had a lot of filler-y scheisse outside of the house being haunted. the characters just kind of go around doing random things. sometimes i wasn't really sure what they were even talking about anymore because the dialogue and their random actions go so off the rails. but it's like this from the beginning, eleanor does a couple of random stops on her way to hill house so the story takes a very long time to get to the point, and nothing really happens during those stops. like she looks at a child drinking from a cup and talks about the cup for five minutes or something.

➖ i wasn't really sure what luke was doing here. he didn't do much anything (until the very end anyway) nor did he have any personality or notable character traits. you have a cast of only four main characters and you couldn't even come up with a personality for one of them. the doc's wife also, she just appears and.. is a bit bitchy and.. nothing happens to her.

➖ relatedly, the pacing is weird. the only consistent is eleanor's succumb into madness but the rest was like see-saw where aooohh a spooky thing happenin!!! hehe never mind, we were just silly now we frolic in the sun. ouuuhhh now a spooky thing happenin again!!! hahaha never mind how silly it is to think there would be ghosts. there's no escalation or tension or progression of any kind and i found that very weird. actually just no plot. eleanor is the only character that matters and has any progression, the rest are just "shrug i guess i was a bit scared back there! but it's okay."

⭐ score: 3 -- a lukewarm three because i'm not really sure if i liked this or not. i zoned out a lot but then found the rare creepy parts decently entertaining, and i didn't mind that there weren't all that many of them, but this really did lack escalation. i've also watched the netflix show and liked it but don't remember it being like this book at all lol

[radiomogai]

[image Description: two flags, each with seven stripes in pale, faded shades of grey and light green. The first flag also has a large circle in the middle of it. The circle is mint green with a greyish otherkin symbol on it. End ID]

IDs by @lovecore-muppet

くコ:彡 ; GHOSTKIN ; a flag for otherkin / alterhumans who are ghosts or ghost-like in any way shape or form !

[ requested by n/a :3 ]

[emacrow]

The baby god.

The world was in panic as Justice League couldn't do anything, a glowing green metorite ball the size of Neptune was heading directly toward Earth.

The green lantern corps couldn't do anything to move the direction of the metorite, Superman couldn't even get near without feeling faint, believing that there was kyptonite on the metorite stopping him.

Not even John could make any deal that involved that metorite at all.

Many city panic, started fighting, crying, and broken down. Many religious groups accept their fate.

Gotham City refused to go out quietly as everyone was throwing a simultaneous party. Even the villains went all out, even Joker didn't cause harm to anyone, much less made a joke at all..

Joker tremblingly held a very old playing joker card that Batman had since their first fight years ago while his eyes, one still black from earlier look to the last live being recorded with Batman's voice speaking on the live, He stayed along side in gotham even when end of the world was here.

Clark Kent stayed with his ma and pa house, lois Lane, holding her hands.

The world stood still as the seemingly the end was close by.

Only for the glowing green metorite was rapidly slowing down, nearly the same length by as the moon even if it was gigantic in comparison.

A gargantuan hands seen to have grasped it, the hands itself were covered in stars and dust as a loudest chirp could be heard around the earth.

Bright bluish green eyes the size of the sun slowly blink with curious, a gigantic toddler the twice size of Jupiter, a chubby face covered in dwarfs star made freckles, a glowing green necklace that held the tiny dwarf pluto, hair the covered Most of the darkness that was the night sky like strains clouds made from the heaven themselves.

A massive deep blue puff escaped the gargantuan being's mouth, raining down all over the earth, where tiny pure crystalized ice was the size of a baby pearl that never melted.

Everyone who was watching the live or was watching outside could see the being clearly.

The metorite threatened to end all life on earth as they knew it was stopped by a god.

The god slowly turned, the bright white hair swaying star dust everywhere in the sky as they were turning to someone and floated away, the joyous young laughter of a toddler echoing on earth.

[bunny-jpeg]

better than home (kidnapper!simon) - you had seen enough horror movies to know that being kidnapped meant being on the news, being butchered, and being a cold case. but simon wasn't like that. except for the bruises he left when he took you, his touch had gentle. kind in a way that someone would brush their cat.

you flinched under his touch, but he just simply shushed you. "not gonna break a thing on ya, angel." that was his name for you. angel. he said that it was like you were given to him fro heaven, "if i do, i give ya the right to put a knife between my ribs."

it was unnerving to say the least. in the tiny home you both shared, locks on the windows, you had never seen a front door that needed a key to unlock from the outside. you tried getting out, but simon was simply so much bigger and stronger, that he didn't need to hurt you herd you back into a safer place.

"don't need to think about much anymore. safer here." he said in his gruff voice. you didn't know what kind of life this man had lived, but with the hunting knife on the coffee table, the well-used rifle over the fireplace and the old army formals in his closet. you knew that there was a story.

it didn't sink in till the first week, but you didn't have to worry about anything. you moved through the house on your own, when you scurried into rooms simon sometimes didn't follow. it was like he was bird-watching. keeping a close eye and admiring you. except you weren't exactly a free bird, rather a delicate beauty in a shiny cage.

you were surprised that simon had your favourite snacks in the pantry, even the same brand of plant-based milk you enjoyed. it was like he knew everything about you, and yet he was a total mystery.

"scary world out there." simon said, kept his distance from you in the recliner while you were curled up in the couch. you had taken a liking to a black and white checkered flannel blanket. it reminded you of the one back home, that you wondered if he just broke in a took it. he eyed you, which made it hard to read one of your many books, "pretty things like you need to be protected... bad men out there." as if this massive mountain of a man wasn't one of those so-called bad men.

you were in no place to argue. you still felt like you were in a spring locked trap and one wrong move would have it clamped down on you. that this was just some sick game before simon buried your body in the field behind the house.

"when can i go home?" you asked, finding your voice.

"this is better than home."

"are you going to kill me?" you asked before you swallowed the lump in your throat.

he shook his head, "no, ma'am. never." sounded like wedding vows rather than an answer. your curiosity only grew with each day. when you finished the books he brought you, he simply put them back in a bag and returned them from where they came from and came back with new ones.

"saw them on the shelf at the library, thought a woman like you would like them." he gave a curt nod as he dropped the canvas bag by your little nest of blankets on the floor by the television. you hadn't been able to watch television yet. primarily busied with sleeping, books, puzzles and notebooks where you had been writing.

and while it started a journal in the event the police found you. it had become more about fictional stories. for your personal pleasure. you thought about being a writer as a child, but the grind of corporate work in your adulthood seemed to dash that dream.

"next time." you said, feeling a little bold, "can you get some science fiction books too...." it felt uneasy to make any demands. he was your captor.

"well then, angel. be good for me then." he said, smiled under that mask. you looked over and made a face at him. you scampered off back into your nest of books and puzzles. maybe he was right, this was better than home. <3

a/n: this is unwell, i hope you enjoyed it. thank you!!

[misireads]

Hell House by Richard Matheson

[physical book, read in finnish]

four people set out to an infamous haunted house that has already claimed several lives of previous expeditions with its hauntings. they intend to live in the house for one week, find out its secret, and cleanse it. however, the four begin to quickly drift apart with their motivations and intentions about the house.

➕ again, haunted house setting. classic.

➕ there were some good bits… though i can't quite elaborate what they really were. maybe that the goody two shoes wife of the professor man turned out to be a lesbian? idk (then again i'm not entirely sure, like… was that supposed to be a horrific thing of horrors on par with murder here)

➕ goes straight to the point. like immediately. on the first page.

➖ such a boring book. like really. most days i could hardly bring myself to even continue this because i was just so intensely not interested in the story. it's slow, it's uninteresting, the characters aren't likable. it dragged on. most of it was back and forth between two characters arguing whether ghosts are real or not. the ending was stupid and anticlimatic and idk i was only skimming through at that point because i wanted to return this to the library

➖ very unnecessary sexualisation of the female characters. the men are hardly described, one is old and crippled.

➖ another finnish translation that's just an abomination. the punctuation is so terrible in this one that it's difficult to read. there were tons of typos all the time. the translation seemed extremely literal because every she and he had been written as "hän" which any sensible translator will find a way around because you won't know what character we're talking about without the gender marker, so i was lost probably once on each page. really just almost unreadable garbage. based on reviews, the prose of the original is also pretty elementary and bland so it's not just that the translation is boring.

⭐ score: 3- -- maybe almost too high a score now that i look at my impressions. i mean.. it's still a spooky scary ghost story, about a haunted house. i think part of why i grew so bored was that october was over and i was kind of fed up with horror books by then. yeah that does happen, shockingly. so the book itself inherently maybe isn't so terrible, i was just bored. also kinda over haunted houses at this point

[radiomogai]

[PT: osnámedic -. end PT]

osnámedic -

a KEIN (kenochoric-in-nature) gender related to old, haunted TVs and radios. it brings to mind glitched screens, both visual and audio static, paranormal activity, and a feeling of profound liminality yet a strange amount of comfort. this gender may feel possessed, mysterious, interfered with, or intercepted by unknown forces.

the name osnámedic comes from the words ‘osnádúrtha’, irish for supernatural/otherworldly, and ‘media’. the flag was inspired by old TVs and the fairly common depiction of RGB-coloured glitchy screens. there will eventually be a simplified flag lol, so don’t worry :)

[misireads]

Home Before Dark by Riley Sager

[audiobook, listened in finnish]

a 30-year-old woman's father dies and leaves her a house that their family used to live in when she was five years old. the woman's entire life has been defined by this house and the highly popular "based on a true story" horror book that her father wrote about their life in it, none of which she believes to be actually true. she returns to the house in order to renovate and sell it but also to find out the truth of what happened in this supposedly haunted house and why her family abruptly left it after only 21 days of living there. this also leads her to the path of solving the unsolved disappearance of a then-teenager who occasionally babysat her during those 21 days and vanished on the same day as they fled the house.

➕ interestingly written, there's a changing PoV between the woman (maggie) and the book written by his father, and the two seamlessly fill in for one another, explaining and introducing events and details about the house that the other can then continue expanding on. i thought this worked really well.

➕ haunted houses with creepy past(a)s are just my jam in general

➕ a thoughtful and enjoyable mystery overall. i was totally blindsided by the ending, i was really convinced about the solution from about the half-way point onwards like "it's soooo obvious that this character x did thing y, am i even gonna bother listening to the end?? i'm so gonna call this predictable" aaaand of course my theory was not only wrong but debunked by the story itself as if it was taking a piss on my shit deductive powers

➖ although the setting is good per se, it was also utterly not believable. well, i guess this story could be taking place in a parallel universe where horror is a very undeveloped genre, but a lot of the premise hinges on this book by the father having been suuuch a fucking success that literally everyone has read it, and this is rendered so thoroughly unbelievable by the father's PoV being the book in question and it's. not good. it's not even imaginative or very interesting. maggie's PoV does take a jab at this early on as if to cover this undeniable flaw by her saying that she thinks the book is like totally bad and nothing special. but this kept bothering me throughout, especially since there are parts of the father's book that are literally hyped beforehand, like maggie tells which ones are the most popular and exciting parts of it. and then those parts happen. and they're anticlimatic shit? i was left so disappointed like THAT'S IT? this aspect didn't deliver at all. even the ghosts manage to be boring and uninteresting, the only thing that was somewhat original was a ghost communicating by ringing service bells in the house but even that dragged on a bit much IMO, if this were an actual book nobody would fucking care to read about this shit like there's just no way this kinda garbage would be a bestseller, the more i think about it the less convincing this entire premise is

➖ maggie overall is just unrelatable, unlikable, and kind of.. stupid? as fuck? another thing that the entire premise hinges on is her not believing that any of what her father wrote is true because "she doesn't remember it" but she never ever addresses what she DOES remember about her life from being a five year old, then. like there's no counter for her absolute claims of this not being true because she doesn't remember. so she just has no memory of her childhood at all? but doesn't even once in the narration wonder that perhaps it's because of repressed memories because something bad happened to her?? the fact that she doesn't provide any alternatives to what happened instead of what her father claims happened, idk it annoyed me so much. there are other parts in the story too where she's just 100%sure of things for no real reason, it's like she can't think for herself and question things at all because she just jumps to conclusions at every given opportunity and rejects alternatives. this makes her sound fucking r-slur. both of these minus points overall give this story kind of an unfinished feeling to me. there's a lot of good in it but also some enormous holes in credibility.

➖ the finnish audiobook. jesus christ. maggie is ok but the father's reader is narrating this like he's reading a children's book that he's a bit bored of. while talking about gruesome murder and horrible things that happened to her 5yo daughter. it's. an. abomination. it eats away at the credibility even more and probably also affected the way i felt about the father's book bc it sounds soooo fuckiiing stupiiiiiiddd when read by this dude. really, usually even if i don't really like a narrator, i get used to the voice after several hours. but not this one. one of the worst i've ever listened to

⭐ score: 3+ -- still solid and enjoyable. this would have easily been a four if these minus points listed here weren't so blaring. but i liked being blinsided by the end a lot which made up for it some LMAO ah clearly i haven't read enough murder mystery novels yet if this is my reaction to a riley sager

[bunny-jpeg]

you really thought you were a saint huh? it wasn't your fault, you just happened to be with someone in the program who shouldn't have been in there. simon riley was a bad man, but he showed promise. the prison threw him a bone and allowed him to be part of the pen pal program.

poor guy had no real connections on the outside. so of course you were a welcomed addition to his life. and maybe it was because you were too naive or simon was too cunning but, you really believed you were making a difference in this man's life!

too bad every letter you wrote often got stained with simon's cum after he masturbated to your pretty handwriting, delicate words and the little bit of perfume that lingered on the paper.

he told you all the pretty things you wanted to hear, about how he'd change for you, be the man that you deserved. that you made him better, more eager to right his wrongs. pages upon pages upon pages of promises.

but simon had no interest in that. why would he? he was a career criminal and good what he did, if it wasn't for graves he'd still be out on the streets. he was a ghost after all. he remembered the first photo he coaxed you into sending, you were even sweet enough to put it in a ziploc bag to keep it from getting ruined on its travel to him.

kept that little picture on his wall. he was eyeing it every day when he was in his cell. when he did his work-outs, when he was alone in his cell, especially when he was masturbating. within a few weeks he was asking for another because, the first one got a big ruined. his excuse was water damage in the cell, but the white stain across the printed image told a different story.

you were loyal to him, hung onto every word. you were so compassionate, loving and kind. you were an angel to his devil, you fixed him. you made everything better with kind words. simon liked the kind words, he also liked imaging breaking apart that little gag reflex of yours. re-shaping the virgin cunt to his liking. simon learned from a very young age that in order to keep something, he'd have to sink his teeth into it.

and you were easily between his jaws when you wrote, "you can put me down as a permanent address when you get out!" lucky, lucky simon, found himself a wife.

now that he was home. well, things were going to be a little different. his hand idly touched your middle while he stood behind you, you showed him around, but simon could only think about the future swell in your middle.

proper little wife. he didn't realize how small you were. fragile like butterfly wings. he didn't want to hurt his missus! no, no, never. but there would be some aches and pains in the next nine months. he didn't realize how easy it was to breed you. you let him have sex with you raw. he promised to pull out, but just like every other promise he made, it never really panned out.

"don't worry, lovie." he said after he finished inside of you, "we'll be a right family." his large scarred hand across your naked middle. promises. promises.

it wasn't your fault, it really wasn't! you tried to make a difference. but when they locked simon riley back up again for armed burglary, you were going to have his son only a few weeks later. <3

[somnoir]

As a prompt Danny after he enters Gotham for any suddenly starts growing again for the first time since the portal incident and his body instead of slowly again decides to catch up all the missing years of growing at once so Danny goes from still looking 14 to suddenly having his father's height and looking his actual age.

Growing pains.... Literally

Since his death, Danny hasn't really... Grown. His parents think he's a late bloomer, that he'll grow later in life. But it's been four years since he's died and he hasn't grown a single inch in that time.

Frostbite is kind enough to tell me that... Well... He's stuck.

He's stuck in this form until something affects his physical form. Amity, even though it's considered the most haunted place in earth, doesn't have enough ambient ectoplasm for Danny. There are too many ghosts from the realm that feed of it, too many nevermores that need it to exist. Amity feeds it's ghosts but it doesn't have enough for a halfa like him.

When he moved to Gotham for the aerospace program (plus the scholarship) he doesn't expect much from it. People still question him about his age, it almost ends with him flinging his ID and birth certificate on people and cussing them out on his height.

He had even started exploring the city. There was this one cafe he found and the owner, Lily, was an absolute angel! With a shotgun. And he met a lot of people in Lily's Eden Cafe, like this weird kid that apparently dropped out of high school. Now, Danny ain't one to judge, so he's pretty okay with Tim. Except for the fact that he was so cool and smooth on a skateboard. Danny wanted one too.

Almost a week after moving, he's suffering. His body hurts, everything aches. It's as if something inside of him was trying to break out and it's making his bones strain. Everything about it hurts.

Many days passed of Danny being delirious from the pain, barely able to register what he was doing. A week and it's like he spent a coma walking around while his consciousness was asleep, practically dead by the lack of his memories.

The next time he woke up, it's been a week since he blacked out from the pain.

There's music in the background, almost familiar. The beat is something he heard Ember compose before his eighteenth birthday, then it was practically blasted through our the Ghost Zone when the day actually came.

"Shhh! Turn that racket down!"

"Hell nah! He likes it, see?"

"The little king seems.... To......change... Gotham..."

His eyes snapped open, gasping when he saw multiple pairs of eyes looking down at him.

"He's alive!"

Danny's instincts took over in that second and he's sending a blast of ecto towards the sudden scream. More screaming. Too much screaming. His head hurt.

"Holy shit, baby pop!"

He takes a moment before he's recognizing Ember... And the hole on his wall... And his glowing hand. Shit.

"Woah, woah! Calm down."

In Danny's confused state, he could barely register Kitty and Johnny in the room. Oh, and Shadow too. But still...

"I— What happened?" He groaned, blinking slowly. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His voice... OH MY GOD HIS VOICE! Why was it so deep?! What was wrong with his voice? Did he have a cold or something? Or maybe it's just his morning voice—

"Congrats on your dawning!" Johnny congratulated, grinning like a madman.

"What?" ooh, that was weird, "What the heck is an dawning?"

"Ooh, baby pop!" Ember cooed, "Forgot that our little king is still pretty new to being all ghost. C'mon now, baby. Mama Ember will teach you all about ghost puberty."

"GHOST WHAT?!"

Ghost puberty was a thing apparently. He had hauled himself into the Far Frozen after yelling at the four ghosts to steal him some clothes that would actually fit him. Because his entire body felt wrong... So wrong.

He was taller now. Having shot up from 5'4" to a whopping 6'2". Everything still hurt and now all his clothes didn't even fit! Nothing looked right when he'd looked at the mirror. He was almost as tall a shis dad now—he looked almost exactly like his dad now actually. It was almost terrifying how much he resembled his dad. If he went to visit now, he's sure that his mother would have a heart attack from how quickly he had grown.

"Frostbite!" Danny practically growled and oooh... Yeah, now it sounded differently to whenever he'd end up snarling. The deepness of his voice almost intimidated him.

"Great one!" The yeti greeted, looking utterly ecstatic to see him. "Ah, I see you've finished your dawning. I offer my sincerest congrats, your majesty."

"Yeah, yeah. The fuck is a Dawning?"

Frostbite blinked, before his expression morphed into a grim one. "Oh dear... I had thought that the Observants would have deigned to explain this too you upon your coronation... Well, let us sit then, great one. This will be a long one."

To summarize it all, Ghost puberty.

A Dawning was a time every ghost went through, so long as there was enough ambient ectoplasm around them to help their forms morph into their preferred appearances. Usually, a ghosts appearance to their own mentality. Their maturity.

Apparently, Young Blood already went through a Dawning but remained in his child-like form due to his own mental age. He was a child in heart, mind, soul, and body.

Meanwhile... Danny who was still alive yet also dead, had followed on with his mental maturity. His body morphed, it changed, it adapted to how he saw himself, how he desperately wanted to become deep down in his core.

And this Danny Fenton was a 6'2" giant trying to control all his limbs that were suddenly too long, too heavy. Everything felt strange....

Tim Drake's favorite cafe was known for being neutral ground for both rogues and vigilantes. You don't fuck around Lilian's cafe or else she'll pull out a rifle and shoot you dead. So if course, Tim fucking loved the place.

Actually, many people frequented it.

He's familiarised himself with the faces of a lot of people by then. Even that scrawny new kid that arrived three weeks ago. Tim remembers Danny for how enthusiastic he was about going to collage, not even minding the madness of Gotham itself. It was like he thrived in it.

He waves at Lilian after ordering his usual, taking a seat in the corner before he's whipping out his laptop. Duke and Steph arrive soon after, immediately ordering before going off to join Tim.

Mundane things, something they all seemed to appreciate more.

The bell rings, more customers arrive and—

"Danny! Holy hell, what happened?"

Tim paused, immediately snapping his eyes towards— WHAT THE FUCK?!

Steph whistled, "Hot damn..."

Danny Fenton was a scrawny young man, shorter than Tim. Even more slim.

But whoever the hell entered the cafe was 6'2", almost as muscled as Jason, and slouching like Clark—as if he was in the wrong body. He almost dropped his drink if not for Duke gently guiding his hand down.

"Hey, Lils..."

God, what the fuck was that? What was happening? Who the hell was this awkward adonis with a voice as deep as the fucking ocean?

"Tim?" Duke waved his hand over his eyes, "Timothy? Timbers?"

"Duke, leave him alone. He's gone, never coming back." Steph snickered, shaking her head before her eyes went back to Danny, who was stuttering as he tried to order what he wanted. "But damn if I wouldn't act the same. Shoot your shot—"

Shoot his fucking shot he did.

"Hey Danny..." Tim slid up to him with a smile.

Danny blinked—woah was he tall and practically built like a fucking fridge—before his eyes brightened and a smile joined his expression.

"Hi Tim!"

Was this how Bruce felt like when he saw Clark?

Masterpost

[radiomogai]

[PT: Hanteric. end PT]

Hanteric 🍂🍂-🥧🥧-🍂🍂-🥧🥧-🍂🍂

1. Hanteric - a gender that is like a ghost lost in an old home, destined to wander forever. It is connected to the end of life, ghosts, old homes, cold autumn days, leaves blowing in the wind, the sadness of death, the sound of the whistling of the wind, dreary days, and melancholy.

Etymology: French, “hanter” meaning “to haunt”

🍂🍂-🥧🥧-🍂🍂-🥧🥧-🍂🍂

[tojisun]

[head in my hands] i think that older bf! simon gets off at how dependent you are on him. that every waking hour, you seek him out. it makes him thrum with something sinister; his heart heady with something dark.

you don't even notice—that's the best thing.

it was just natural for you to come to him, curling to his side like being beside him alone gives you the courage you need or grants you the peace of your mind.

he pushes your hair away from your face and you turn to him with a shy little smile, cheeks round and lips twitching. you don't ask him but he gives it to you anyway—a kiss on your forehead, because you're his precious love.

so good for him. so needy.

simon adores it. he adores the way you can't live without him; how you've made it so you two would be inseparable. he is your rock, you are his lifeline. sure, you don't know just how deep his greed runs—murky waters, blood dripping from the corners of his lips—but it's not like you had to know, anyway.

all you had to do was to stay close, for him to spoil and cherish. for him to love.

"y'need me so much, don't you doll?" simon asks, crooned words pressed on your fever-hot skin. "can't think without me. can't live without me. such a darlin', y'are."

you keen, breathless, unable to speak past warbled gasps. you feel the slow stretch of his cock as you rise, the glide torturous, hitting every of your sensitive spots, before you sink back down again, stuffed whole, his cockhead breaching into depths you never knew was even possible.

too mu'—!

simon's hands move, jostling you from where you are on his lap. they hook on your waist, dimpling your skin as they sink into your fat. it makes him groan, seeing how full you are against him. how full you are of him. seeing your softness, your tenderness, immortalized in his hold like this—weeping, leaking, cunt gushing—makes him whimper, mind splintering at the overwhelming pleasure.

not enough. s'not enough.

(simon doesn't realize how needy he is of you too.)

[potato-lord-but-not]

NOBODY’S SOLDIER