#spectral vices
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Getting back into murderboy content with @hotpinkmoon ‘s James and my Juda
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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And actually on that note, I used to not be interested in knots or knotting whatsoever but then I wrote a smut for the friend who was into werewolves and uh...oops. They indirectly got me into that kink a bit
#spectral thoughts#nsft furry#knot kink#I guess is the tag for that?#corruption kink#.....I promise not every post of mine will be related to corruption. Just most of them#I can't help that it's fun to take someone and twist their mind up a bit just to see what'll happen#And I guess vice versa. Especially with the situation I'm talking about here
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Vampire König Headcanons
Warnings: Nondescript Depictions/Implications of Smut, Territorial König, Jealous König, Dominant König, Submissive König, Domestic König <3, Marking, Consensual Dub-Con, Restraints, Abuse of Vampire Powers, Feeding, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Injuries, König using Urban Dictionary, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
So domestic that it hurts.
6’10 military vampire boyfriend in a pink frilly kitchen apron that says ‘Love, Peace and Hope’ on the front of it >>>>
Seriously, though, he’s the most caring of his kind (if you exclude Simon) and is so gentle and loving that you could scarcely believe what he was until he showed you his fangs and his abilities.
Don’t be fooled by his kind nature, though; he’s given you more protection than you’ll ever need with his scary dog privileges. Ones which ward off humans and other supernaturals alike.
And, given how tall he is, you don’t see the death stares he gives to bystanders; all you see is a path being cleared in front of you, people scrambling out of your way in what you may construe as consideration. Or terror.
Speaking of König’s gargantuan proportions, he needs more blood to survive than the average vampire. More than you, or any other human, can possibly provide.
Luckily, he only feeds from animals. Mostly.
Their taste is not as exquisite as human blood, not being as clean by comparison (particularly in pests, like rats), but he makes do. Especially when it’s for your own safety; to protect you from his blood rage when he hits a draught.
But, regardless of his masterful self-control, there comes a point where his palette can no longer stand the taste of disease and death in his blood supply, his thirst becoming so dire that he needs human blood. Now.
The first time you saw him like this, you panicked, asked what was wrong.
He told you he was fine as he gripped the kitchen counter, crushing the marble – that he just needed to go to sleep, giving a vague smile and no explanation.
It was only after being grilled and your concern melting his resolve that König’s resolution gave out, and he confessed his greatest shame. His strongest vice.
And, without knowing how dangerous he could get while feeding, you, in all your kindness and virtue, offered yourself to him.
“I know it’s not much, but I can try to find you something else for you, too !”
Never has a human who has known of his true nature been so selfless as to put their life on the line for his own survival.
Long story short, he eventually caved to your generosity and, when he tasted your blood, knew there was no finer delicacy he could tear from any planet in any universe.
You are the only one for him.
In return, he’ll try to cook and care for you. And, surprisingly, he’s pretty good at it !
Has all your favourite dishes memorised. Whether you told him or not.
He tries not to use his mind reading abilities on you, though sometimes, it slips out, hence he knows so much about you despite you never having uttered the specifics to him.
Whenever he’s feeling fragile (jealous) about you liking an actor or a character you’re watching, he’ll use his powers to ever so slightly see what you’d like to do with them.
Or what you’d like them to do to you.
This often leads to some very specific practices occurring in the bedroom.
When König is feeling particularly dominant, he tends to get quite…forceful.
All within the realm of consent, of course.
This side of him is typically triggered by jealousy, though it is not a punishment.
Far from it.
This is your reward for being so loyal – so disinterested in the advances of others, whether supernatural or otherwise.
“Say that you’re mine,” König growls, his fangs slick and protruding against your throat, coated in saliva, as if he were rabid. The weight of spectral chains forcing your body to be still and subservient is heavy upon your mortal vessel.
His hands have torn through your underwear, your only barrier against the merciless ecstasy you will be subject to on this night.
“Or you won’t leave this night unscathed.”
Consensual dub-con and restraints <333 !!1!
Fr though, König would never use his telekinesis on you unless you expressly asked him to, because, unlike many of his kind, he’s got a human side.
One which he only shows to you.
This much is apparent when he puts himself in your hands and gives himself to you in his entirety.
Becomes the antithesis of the typical bloodthirsty, cynical, overlord vampire stereotype when he’s feeling submissive.
The type to say “Please, Darling,” when he needs you to touch him.
Pull on his hair and he’s D E C E A S E D (more so than he already is).
He’s been touch-starved his entire mortal and immortal life, never having found someone special enough to make him feel comfortable, so his imploring for you to touch him is, whether you know it or not, a big honour – and a commitment for König.
Speaking of, he adores cuddles.
Both giving and receiving.
Not that you know this, but sometimes he intentionally crushes you into his chest between his pecs because once you called him your “Big tiddie himbo”, and it’s stuck with him since.
Plus, you also like to motorboat them sometimes.
Yeah, he had to go onto Urban Dictionary to find out what himbo meant. No, he did not delete his search history afterwards, so now you know his second greatest shame; his lack of fluency with modern terms.
Sometimes, you’ll drop random turns of phrase to see what his reaction will be; whether he’ll pretend to know what you’re saying or if he’ll submit and tell you he has no idea what he just said.
“König, you’re so rizzular, you know that ?”
“Uuuhhh…yeah ! You…too…?”
He does get a little insecure about it, but that’s nothing compared to how he feels whenever his friends come and visit.
Other vampires and supernaturals, naturally. And, regardless of their status, he’s always on the edge of his seat, wondering if you’ll take one look at them and decide to leave him in pursuit of another.
It doesn’t matter how many times you try to reassure him; König is dead set on his doomsday premonition (a panic attack he had while asleep once) that you’ll leave him.
“Köni, Baby,” you say, voice gentle as you cradle his head to your chest, sat bundled in amongst the blankets on the sofa. “I’m never leaving you. Even when I’m a ghost, I’m going to haunt you forever !”
He has thought about turning you, btw.
A LOT.
But he can never seem to find the right time to broach the subject; especially when you’ve told him how you have no interest in being immortal. At least, not yet.
“You’re only human once,” you tell him, smiling. And, somehow, König can feel his heart skipping a beat.
Until his friends leave, König puts on the facade of someone who has never felt an ounce of panic in his life.
Mad territorial.
Keeps you sat on his lap or tucked away in a hidden part of the house for the duration of his friends’ visit.
And God forbid if any of them try to touch you.
There have been many an occasion where you and König have been left cleaning up blood spatters soaked into your carpet and walls because König’s instincts kicked in, causing him to disarm whoever had been stupid enough to make physical contact with you.
Yeah, König feels bad that he ruined your new carpet, but would he do it all again to protect your honour ?
Absolutely.
Yeah, okay, sometimes he does intentionally mark you up the night before the guests arrive. Yes, he does hide any articles of clothing that could cover his love bites up.
“I just want them to know that you’re mine,” he tells you, almost whimpering, his eyes wide and almost tearful when you give him a narrowed look.
“König, you’re mauled off enough hands that they couldn’t un-know that we’re together even if they tried !”
And, at the end of the night, you’ll either be met with a very prideful König, whose powers you can feel weighing heavier on your shoulders by the minute. Or, puppy König, who comes bounding over to you, his eyes bright with nothing short of a lifetime’s adoration.
Either way, König wants you to know that you are thoroughly loved, and no measure of mortality, or time, or distance will ever change that.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Masterlist [Continued]
Masterpost
Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3
Wattpad
#mw2#mw2 smut#konig x reader#konig mw2#konig smut#konig headcanons#konig call of duty#konig x you#konig x yn#konig x y/n#könig smut#könig x reader#mw2 headcanons#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#konig fluff#konig fanfiction
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⚔️ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Hammer of the Ram
Weapon (maul), rare (requires attunement) ___ This all-silver hammer carries a mighty force behind it with every swing. You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon. If the hammer hits an object that isn’t being worn or carried, the hit is a critical hit. The hammer has 3 charges and regains 1d3 expended charges daily at dawn. When you hit a target with the hammer, you can expend 1 to 3 of its charges to force the target to make a DC 15 Strength saving throw. For each charge expended, the target takes an extra 1d10 force damage and is pushed 5 feet away from you on a failed save. On a successful save, the target takes half as much force damage and isn’t pushed. 𝙍𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙖𝙢. If you’re also attuned to the “ring of the ram,” your bonus to attack and damage rolls with the hammer increases to +2, and the hammer’s every swing creates a projection of the spectral ram from the ring. The ram lurches forward from the head of the hammer, effectively increasing your reach with the weapon by an additional 5 feet. In addition, the hammer and ring share a pool of charges: any charge you have with the ring can be used for the hammer’s properties, and vice versa. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!
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But can you imagine being one of the soldiers on Kira’s ship feeling great cause you get to work alongside the Golden Vice Admiral. You see the pirates that have the highest bounty in the world. Their boat is flashing rainbow lights into the water. It’s confusing, but you have orders to man the cannons. You do. You’re about to fire.
Their ship teleports.
Their ship.
Teleports.
The entire thing.
You hold on to the last shred of hope for victory but then Some Guy starts jumping around your ship while his Spectral Monkey knocks out your coworkers
#I think about this a lot#how like the average person in Mana would feel#jrwi#jrwi spoilers#gillion tidestrider#chip jrwi#jay ferin#jrwi riptide
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Rook Info Compilation part 9: Idia, Forcing, Nicknames
Rook might be kinder towards Idia than other characters: when Ace comments on Idia not having any friends Rook explains, “We all sparkle in different ways. The Roi de sa chambre shines when conversing with his own heart.”
Idia calls Rook “exuberant yet mysterious,” and has him at the top of his personal rankings of “Turbo Sus Vice Housewardens to Be Avoided at All Costs” (along with Trey).
During Phantom Bride Idia describes Rook as “the prince from a neighboring kingdom who’s revealed to have been secretly protecting the MC, immediately granting him best boy status,” and Rook compliments Idia at the end of the event, commenting on his “lonesome beauty” and “bewitching eyes.”
During Glorious Masquerade Rook offers to purchase grapes and/or grape juice for the younger students in his group, and then Idia offers to as well.
Rook says, “This is simply my way of showing gratitude to our group for spending the day with me. Think nothing of it," but Idia says that such a declaration only adds to the pressure and says he will split the cost with Rook.
Later on Idia volunteers to stay behind from the rest of the group with Deuce (after Deuce saves him from a collapsing chandelier) and Rook declares that he would lose face as a third-year student if he allowed it, insisting on staying with Deuce himself.
Idia is then forced to continue on.
Rook has a habit of physically forcing people to comply, dragging Epel into Pomefiore in one vignette and helping him with yoga in another, both times against his protests.
He also forces Sebek to put his hand on his chest during Spectral Soiree and insists on touching Ruggie’s tail despite being told not to do so.
Floyd refuses to let Rook borrow Octavinelle’s showers in a vignette and when he asks, “What, you gonna force me?,” Rook does just that, spraying Floyd with a perfume that he must shower in order to clean himself off, and going along to join him.
Rook has many lines about how being told “no” makes him desire things all the more, such as, “The more one’s quarry seeks to flee, the stronger the impulse to give chase. Dating and hunting aren’t so different at times,” “When someone runs from you, it makes you want to pursue them all the more,” “the stronger the prey, the more I am driven to ensure it,” and “When I grow curious about someone, I feel a powerful urge to pursue them everywhere.”
A compilation of Rook's nicknames for other characters (original vs. EN server) can be found here:
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Interested in Dating/Murdersims? 18+
TODAY AT 10:PM EST
I will be playing over 25 games created by the renpy graduates of my renpy course!!! Im super proud of them and they deserve a whole lot of love for all of their work.
ITCH.IO GAMES FEATURED!:
Midterm Massacre - @drillthrillerk
Killswitch - @heychevy0s
Hopeless Romantic - @xbonecandyx
BOYFRIEND.EXE - @wolfwantsred
Full Dependency - @trashpandazowo
Zac's Day Out - @deadly-chronicles
Maladaptive Expression - @agentbitchart
DO or Die - @holdmehurtme
The City Folk @M07th_M4N on Twitter!
Spectral Vices - @skrunklyslashers
Rest Stop Dead - @bloodstainedbarn
Love Lies Bleeding - @putrescines
Do Not Provoke the unstable - @sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw
Nothing Beneath - @canidae-cervidae-corvidae
Cabin Sexy Murder Man - @krystalwithakay
The Milk Man - @zombunz
View From The Waste - @yogatorademebitch
AND MANY OTHERS WHO ARENT READY TO BE PUBLISHED ONTO ITCH.IO QUITE YET!!
Find it here at 10pm EST!
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-Riddle Me This-
(This story is from Riddle's perspective anytime the events of book two. I only know information from the English server story and events so sorry if anything is terribly out of character. This fic is platonic and is cannon for my Yuu-sona, but I do just call them Yuu in the story. Hope you enjoy! Ps. There is a little bit of cussing. I do not own the picture <3)
I couldn’t help but feel guilty. My overblot was the first of many, and they've had to deal with all of them. It was infuriating that I had started a trend of trouble that was pilled onto Yuu’s lists of tasks. Of course it wasn’t completely my doing. However the more it happened, the more something in the back of my mind said I needed to make it up to them.
Trey asked me to deliver a caramel apple tart to them so I was doing just that. Normally he would ask Ace and Deuce, but they had to feed the flamingos. He then looked at Carter, but I insisted on doing it myself. I had noticed that Yuu seemed distant during lunch. They were staring into the distance, clearly not looking at anything or listening to their group of friends as they slowly spooned some soup into their mouth.
I rang the doorbell only to be met with silence. I knew that they had to be in their dorm because that’s where they always are when they weren’t doing a task for the headmaster or going to class. I admired how determined they were to improve their living accommodations with their own blood, sweat, and tears. They seemed insulted when Trey had previously offered his help in the endeavor, so I had never asked myself, but I knew Ace and Deuce had found some way to help them without them refusing or being hateful about the assistance.
I rang the doorbell once again, only to be met with silence once more. My gut told me to try the doorknob, so I did. The door opened with barely any resistance.
“Yuu? It’s Riddle,” My voice came out weak and uncertain, I was shaken by the easy entry, “I brought a tart.”
I looked in the living room to find Grim asleep on the couch, a small fire lit in the fireplace. Yuu was still nowhere to be seen.
“Why hello,” I jumped when the ghost started speaking out of nowhere, “You’re Housewarden Rosehearts right?”
“Yes,” I composed myself quickly, “I came to drop this off on behalf of my vice-warden. Where is Yuu?”
Another ghost made his way over, “I’d put the tart in the kitchen, Yuu isn’t exactly in the mood to see visitors right now.”
My gut twisted, "Are they okay? Where are they?”
The smallest ghost made his own appearance, “We don’t know. They kicked us out of their room. They've been there since class ended today.”
“They kicked Grim out too,” The first ghost crossed his spectral limbs, “That’s how we know they're in a bad mood, not just napping.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I made up my mind. I had to trust my gut.
I left the ghosts and placed the tart in the refrigerator in the kitchen. The fridge was pretty empty, only leaving some juice that I knew Ace had brought last time they had a movie night and some cans of Tuna hidden from Grim on the highest shelf. I was able to place the tart on a shelf alone.
I then made my way up to her room. It was oddly quiet with Grim and the ghosts staying downstairs. I could see that Yuu was in the middle of remodeling some of the smaller rooms, airing them out and leaving their dorm as the only one closed.
“Yuu,” My gut was pushing past my manners, something told me that this was more important, “It’s Riddle.”
“Didn’t the ghosts tell you to leave me alone?” Their voice was a weak hiss, “I can’t do it right now.”
“Do ‘it’?” I was confused, “Yuu what is going on?”
“Just leave me alone,” Yuu was a bit louder, then they mumbled something I couldn’t hear even though I was right behind her door.
“Can I come in?” I put my hand on the handle, “I need you to talk to me.”
“Why won’t you go away!?” They screamed suddenly and my body stiffened.
I opened the door.
They sat on the floor like it was the center of the storm. Windows had the curtains drawn so the room was as dark as it could be in the middle of the day. The room had clothes scattered rabidly, uniforms and other pieces of clothing that I recognized from school events scattered among the bed sheets that had been pulled from the bed erratically where they hung off the bed. I could tell that Yuu's room was normally clean but they had managed to tear everything onto the ground and wreck the place as if they were a hurricane. Something in my heart hurt when I realized the destruction reminded me of the Heartslabyul garden after my overblot.
“Go away,” They was mumbling but now I could hear them, “It isn’t real. I have to wake up.”
“‘Isn’t real’?” I approached with caution, “Yuu what are you talking about?”
“This!” They gestured all around themselves without really thinking, “It’s not real. It can’t be real. People don’t-” They were struggling to breathe, but they weren’t crying, “People don’t care about me like this. That’s not how it works. This is all just some stupid dream. I can’t get attached. I can’t. I can’t-”
They was having a panic attack. I had not had one since I was a kid and they were never properly dealt with, so I had no idea what was appropriate. It also confused me because what they were saying didn’t make sense. “‘People don't care about me like this.’” “‘This is all just some stupid dream.’” “‘It’s not real.’”
Yuu, while somewhat blunt and egotistical, was one of the most beloved people in the school. It had become rare that people would mess with them for the sole fear of the repercussions from them or those that cared about them. They helped so many people through difficult times. They were smart, cunning, ruthless, caring, fierce, and loyal beyond most people at this school. Why wouldn’t people care about them?
“Yuu,” I tried to mimic Trey’s comforting tactics as I had seen him do with me, other students, and his siblings on the rare occasion that I saw them. I kneeled down to reach their level and tried to get them to focus on me without touching them, “I’m going to need you to name five things you can see.”
They froze for a moment and I was afraid I had somehow made it worse. But they looked me in the eye with some confusion before slowly glancing around the room.
“I see you,” They let out a breath, “I see my camera on the mantle, Grim’s bed, the cleaning supplies in the hallway, and the mess I made.”
I smiled, “I will help clean that up. Now I need you to name four things you can feel.”
I saw their vision focus, as if their brain and eyes were realigning, “The wooden floor. The carpet. My clothes. Warm air.”
I nodded, “That’s it. What are three things you can hear?”
Their breathing slowed to a normal pace, “My breath,” they paused to listen, “That one branch outside my window banging against the building. And you.”
“Good job,” I watched as they stopped hunching over and moved to sit criss-cross, “Two things you can smell.”
They inhaled deeply, “Dust and cleaning supplies.”
I took a deep breath of my own, “And one thing you taste.”
“Toothpaste aftertaste,” They were grounded, “I haven’t eaten today.”
“I brought a tart from Trey,” I held out a finger, “Normally I wouldn’t approve of eating dessert for breakfast, but this is a special case.”
They laughed dryly, “Thanks Riddle. What kind of tart is it?”
“Caramel apple,” I shrugged, “He wanted to try a new recipe.”
“Nice,” They looked around at the mess, “Damn. I can’t believe I did this. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I motioned to the clothes on the mirror, “You had to deal with my overblot. It’s only fair.”
“Merlin,” I could almost hear them grit their teeth as they rose to their feet, “I can’t believe-”
I rushed to stand so I could keep them from tumbling back to the floor, “Don’t rush yourself. I don’t want you passing out.”
“I’m so sorry,” They pulled themself off of me and sat on the bed, “I just- No. There's no excuse. I need to stop being stupid.”
“You weren’t being stupid,” I stood in front of them, “This kind of stuff is normal. You’re under a lot of stress and you don’t really have an outlet. Trust me. I get it.”
“You don’t,” they laid back on the bed, “I’m not from here. I’m from another world that is so different from this,” They let out another dry laugh, “People here are as bad as me, ego-wise. You all seem to care about me. Isn’t that insane?” They sat up, “I went from only two people in the world caring if I dropped dead, to dozens of people seeming to genuinely give a shit about my existence. Isn’t that insane?” I could see their eyes glossing over, like the panic and dread was settling back in, “I mean, I’m the same person. Why would people care about me now when I used to be so desperate to have a single person even acknowledge my existence without hating me? There’s no way it’s real right? I have to be in some kind of coma or something and this is some fever dream where people don’t hate me for existing. Right? Why would anyone like me? Let alone do things for me. I don’t-”
“Yuu,” I had to stop her from spiraling back, “This isn’t a dream,” I found myself trusting my gut once again and taking her hands in mine, “This is real. I don’t know what it was like in your world, but we care about you,” I let go of their hands, “I know Ace would have moved out of Heartslabyul if he wasn’t able to escape here with you and Deuce. And,” I looked down, “I probably wouldn’t have lived through my overblot without you.”
That seemed to bring them back again, “It’s real. All of it.”
“Yeah,” I sat down on the other side of the bed, “I’m sorry.”
“What are you saying sorry for?” Yuu stood, this time their legs supported them, “I’m the one who made a fool of myself. You-”
“Have made more than a fool of myself,” I smiled, “I overblotted. I was the first domino in the series of troubles you’ve had to face. And then I embarrass myself by forgetting you are human.”
“Excuse me?” They turned to look at me as I stood back up.
I made my way forward, “I forget you are human sometimes. You seem so ethereal. You work hard but it looks so easy for you. You handle our issues with ease, even though it has to take such a toll on you. And I’m sorry for that. You have your own issues and I think all of us forget that.”
They stopped looking at me, “Can we go eat now?”
“Yeah,” I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
They stood and made their way out of the room. I followed behind, watching for any sign of further distress or panic. No one in the house seemed to notice Yuu had emerged from their room. They opened the fridge, retrieved the tart, and then moved to get the proper silverware for the food.
That’s when I really got a look at them. Her clothes hung off her body awkwardly, as if they was far too small for the pajamas. Their hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while. Their eyes had bags and their legs shook slightly.
“I didn’t see any other food in the fridge,” I spoke softly as they began to cut the tart, “Do you need to go grocery shopping? I could go-”
“No I’m fine,” They spoke bluntly as they placed a slice of tart in front of me and began to get their own slice, “Crowley doesn’t give me food money until the end of this week. I don’t have enough to go shopping right now. Just enough for school lunches. And some tuna so I can get Grim to help out.”
“Yuu.”
They gave me my silverware and put the remaining tart in the fridge before sitting to eat their own slice, “Don’t lecture me on starving myself. That’s not what this is.”
They kept going without my prompt, “Look. I’m not used to this. It’s not so surprising that I think it’s some kind of fever dream. I’ve gone 18 years with only a few people caring if I lived or died. Now all of a sudden I come to a whole new world where that person is gone, but almost a dozen people seem to genuinely think I’m worth caring about. It's an emotional whiplash. I know I’m going to regret this but I’ve got to just get it out. I’m a horrible person. I’m not some saint like you seem to think. I’m an egotistical asshole who is a know-it-all and who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. I’m ungrateful and spoiled. I’m just an adult who has no idea what to do and then I got sucked here and I am more confused than ever. I guess it all just bubbled over.”
“Yuu,” I took a bite of my tart and swallowed before speaking again, “If that is what you think of yourself then I think it wasn’t just your environment that changed.”
“What?” Yuu stopped eating and looked up at me, “I don’t change.”
I looked at them, “Could have fooled me.”
We ate the rest of the food in silence. Yuu was far from healed, but some part of me knew that what I had seen was sacred. It was an unspoken rule. No one else gets to know what I have seen and heard today. At least, not unless Yuu was the one telling them. I made a mental note to send Ace and Deuce here to spend some time with our magicless prefect with a large bag of healthy and nourishing foods.
#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#riddle x reader#platonic fic#highkey inspired by PEGGY's song 'Alice'#twst yuu#disney twisted wonderland#hurt/comfort
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As much as I love Malleus and Lilia, I still hate what they did at the Halloween event. And then when Ace says at them for showing absolutely no remorse (they admitted they had overdone it, but Lilia still said "next time we'll be more careful") My requests: Reader gives those back at school a nasty snap for it at Diasomnia. Why couldn't the two normally ask for a party instead of doing something like that. Reader also tells Lilia that he should have stopped Malleus first instead of helping. That they just completely exaggerated. At the end, Reader says that they are very disappointed in the two of them. How do the two react?
Halloween’s Consequences
pairings: Malleus Draconia , Lilia Vanrouge x gn!Reader
genre: angst ? not really
cws/tws: ooc Lilia? (first time writing him)
a/n: This took me an unholy amount of time to do because I did NOT know how to write for Lilia, especially for something like this 😭
You watched everyone go back to their own dorms after finally getting to return to NRC, the only ones you stopped are the two fae responsible for all of this
"Don't even think about getting away after all that" your voice was stern and was evidently angry.
The two looked at you and was slightly shocked to see you genuinely angry for the first time, your eyebrows furrowed even more at the sight of both of their faces
"I'll start with you Malleus..."
Malleus Draconia !!
You gave him a big sigh as you held your forehead on your hand
You were just so disappointed in both of them
"Malleus, I understand that you sympathize with the ghosts for missing the big party we had here in NRC, but kidnapping students and putting the rest of them in danger is not the right thing to do!" you yelled.
Lilia attempted to calm you down but Malleus stopped him, Malleus's face had an expression of understanding and even shame in himself
"You could've brought the ghosts over to Diasomnia or even my dorm to have your own party for them for Seven's sake! It won't be comparable to the Halloween parade we had but it's better than what both of you did".
Malleus stayed silent the entire time you were giving him an earful, taking in everything you said for future reference while Lilia stared at both of you, helpless that he was letting his Young Master be scolded like this, especially because of him egging Malleus on.
"Child of Man, I was not aware that everyone would react that way towards the ghosts, I...I give my most sincere apologies towards you and the students of Night Raven College"
You sighed once again, unsure whether to accept the apology or not
"You don't need to apologize to me, Malleus, especially since I was safe the entire time. You need to apologize to everyone else for putting them in danger, that goes for you too, Lilia" your head snapped to face Lilia once you mentioned his name
"Now it's your turn..."
Lilia Vanrouge !!
Lilia readied himself for what's to come, your face still visibly angry despite taking 10 minutes to talk to Malleus
"Lilia, your job is to take care of Malleus and help him, and usually I respect you for that, but not in this situation!" you yelled, arms crossed in front of your chest.
Another one that keeps silent, maybe this is where Malleus got it from, he kept his head up and back straight but never really looking at you in the eye, it almost makes him look like he's spacing out
"Did you really think kidnapping students would be better than just sending them a simple invitation? You could've just told them that they were going to have an escape room as a party game in the Spectral Realm"
You didn't have the energy to be angry anymore, you were sounding more exhausted than anything
"As the vice dorm leader of Diasomnia, I admit that this was a large oversight of mine, Malleus and I shall take full responsibility for this.
But as Lilia Vanrouge, I'm sorry that the ghosts attacked your friends, like what Malleus said, we didn't expect your friends' reactions towards them. If there's anything we can do to compensate for it, we're up to it"
You sighed "Look, I'm not looking to punish you guys or anything, I'm just...incredibly disappointed and even a little shocked that you both thought this was a good idea".
——
Looking at the two with tired eyes, you continued "Tomorrow morning, I expect both of you to have apologized to all the students you dragged to the Spectral Realm".
After finishing you turned and left, too exhausted from the events of the last few hours (or days) to listen to what the two have to say.
Lilia and Malleus stood there unmoving, none attempting to catch up to you and defend themselves fully knowing that this was just the consequences of their actions catching up to them.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia x reader
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Navigating Twst JP & JP-EN Term Listing (Updated)
Dorm & Character JP Name Abbreviation and Emoji Index
Heartslabyul > 🃏 ビュル
Riddle Rosehearts > 🌹 リド
Ace Trappola > ❤️ エー
Deuce Spade > ♠️ デュ
Trey Clover > ♣️ トレ
Cater Diamond > ♦️ ケイ
Savanaclaw > 🏜️ サバナ
Leona Kingscholar > 🦁 レオ
Ruggie Bucchi > 🐆 / 🍩 ラギ
Jack Howl > 🐺 ジャク
Octavinelle > 🐚 オクタ
Azul Ashengrotto > 🐙 アズ
Jade Leech > 🐬 ジェイ
Floyd Leech > 🦈 フロ
Tweels > イド
Scarabia > 🕌 / 🧞♂️ スカラ
Kalim Al-Asim > 🦂 / ☀️ / 🦦 カリ
Jamil Viper > 🐍 ジャミ
Pomefiore > 🍏 / 👸 ポメ
Vil Schoenheit > 👑 ヴィ(ル)
Rook Hunt > 🏹 ルク
Epel Felmier > 🍎 エペ
Ignihyde > ⚙️ / 🔥 イグニ
Idia Shroud > 💀 イデ
Ortho Shroud > 🤖 オル
Diasomnia > 🐉 ディア
Malleus Draconia > 🐲 マレ
Lilia Vanrouge > 🦇 リリ
Silver > ⚔️ シル
Sebek Zigvolt > ⚡ セベ
Ramshackle > 👻 オンボロ
Prefect > 🌸 / 🦐 / 🍊 (♀️/🚺 or ♂️/🚹 will sometimes follow) 監 / ユウ
Enma Yuuken > 🦞 コミ監
Grim > 🐱 / 🐈⬛ グリ
NRC Staff > 🎓 / 🐦 NRC(の)職員
Dire Crowley > 🎭 クロ
Divus Crewel > ⚗️ / 🐶 クル
Mozus Trein > 📚 / 📖 モゼ
Ashton Vargas > 💪 バル
Sam > ☠️ / 🎩 サム
Lucius > 🐾 ルチウス
Others
Rollo > 🔔 ロロ
Fellow > 🦊 フェロ
Gidel > 🔨 ギデル
Baul > 🐊 バウル
Che’nya > 😺 チェーニャ
Cheka > 🧶 チェカ
Neige > ❄️ ネイジュ
Ambrose > 🧙 ア ン
Najma > 💫 ナジュ(マ)
Marja > マルヤ
Dylla > ディラ
Kifaji > キファジ
Maleanor > マレノア
Ace’s older brother > 兄ッポラ
Farena > ファレ
Glossary
The following list is in no way all-inclusive. I will do my utmost to update this section as the EN server progresses in story and translations become known.
(If I’ve overlooked anything, don’t hesitate to message me about it!)
Night Raven College
Mage Training Academy - “Wizarding Boarding School” (lit., no one uses this term, though)
Headmage - Headmaster
Housewarden - Dorm Head, Dorm Leader
Vice Housewarden - Vice Dorm Head, Vice Dorm Leader
History of Magic - Magic History
Flight - Flying
Freshman/Sophomore/Junior(/Senior) - First-/Second-/Third-(/Fourth-)Year
Potionology - Potions
Flora Element - Tree Element
Cosmic Element - Null Element
Objects and Activities
Thaumarks - Madol (Magic Dollars)
There is no equivalent for “Sorcents” in the original canon, as Madol more closely converts to Japanese yen, whereas Thaumarks seem to reflect United States dollar values. The “cent” of Japanese currency (sen) has been obsolete for decades.
Blastcycles - Magicwheel
Spelldrive - Magift (Magic Shift)
Locations, Countries, and Regions
Queendom of Roses - Rose Kingdom
Shaftlands - Land of Pyroxene (Pyroxene)
Harveston - Village of Harvest
Sunset Savanna - Afterglow Savannah
Island of Woe - Island of Lamentation
Briar Valley - Valley of Thorns
Fleur City - City of Flowers
Event Names
Culinary Crucible - Master Chef
Beanfest - Happy Beans Day
Joint Exams - Unified Exams
The Phantom Bride - Ghost Marriage
Wish Upon A Star - Dance and Wishes
Camp Vargas - Vargas Camp
(A Twisted Halloween) Terror is Trending - (Scary Monsters) Screaming Halloween Show
(A Twisted Halloween) Spectral Soiree - (Scary Monsters) Endless Halloween Night
A Firelit Sky Over the Sands - Scalding Sands's Al'ab Nariya
Harveston's Sledathon - Harveston's Kelkkarotu
Twisted Tsumderland - Welcome to Tsumsted Wonderland
Fairy Gala Remix - Fairy Gala If
Limited Card Names
Apprentice Chef - Chef-in-Training
Suitor Suit - Groom-for-a-Day
Starry Robes - Star-sending Robes
Halloween - Scary Dress
Silk Adorned - Jasmine (Yasmina) Silk
Applepom - Apple Boa
Tsumsitter - Tsumsted
New Year's Attire - New Year's Yukata
Masquerade - Masquerade Dress
Birthday Boy - Birthday Suit-Up
Birthday Jacket - Union Birthday
Birthday Bloom - Bloom (Broom) Birthday
All club outfits - Club Wear
JP Monikers ~ Floyd
(Floyd uses specific suffixes depending on his perceived relationship with individuals–i.e., diminutive/pejorative/etc.)
MC = Shrimp (koebi)
Grim = Seal (azarashi)
Riddle = Goldfish (kingyo)
Ace = Crab (kani)
Deuce = Mackerel (saba)
Trey = Sea Turtle (umigame)
Cater = Sea Bass (hanadai)
Leona = Sea Lion (todo)
Ruggie = Remora (kobanzame) [changed in EN]
Jack = Sea Urchin (uni)
Kalim = Otter (rakko)
Jamil = Sea Snake (umihebi)
Vil = Beta Fish (beta)
Rook = Seagull (umineko)
Epel = Guppy (guppi)
Idia = Firefly Squid (hotaruika)
Ortho = Sea Angel (kurione)
Malleus = Sea Slug (umiushi)
Lilia = Flapjack Octopus (mentako) [changed in EN]
Silver = Jellyfish (kurage)
Sebek = Crocodile (wani)*
Crowley = Manta Ray (manta)
Crewel = Striped Beakfish (ishidai)
Trein = Red Squid (akaika)
Vargas = Lobster (robusutaa)
Sam = Seahorse (umiuma)
Fellow = Foxfish (kitsunebera)
Gidel = Cat Shark (nekozame)
*Leona also refers to him as a “crocodile”
JP Monikers ~ Rook
Rook uses a combination of Japanese, French, and English variously; I have attempted to render the names in the simplest manner possible. (Those with names I cannot find in-game at the time of posting are marked accordingly and will hopefully be updated in the future.)
MC = Trickster
Grim = Monsieur Hirsute (Mister Shaggy)
Riddle = Roi de Roses (King of Roses)
Ace = Monsieur Heart (Mister Heart)
Deuce = Monsieur Spade (Mister Spade)
Trey = Chevalier de Roses (Rose Knight)
Cater = Monsieur Magicam (Mister Magicam)
Leona = Roi de Leon (King of Lions)
Ruggie = Monsieur Tanpopo (Mister Dandelion)
Jack = Monsieur Tough Guy (Mister Tough Guy)
Azul = Roi d’Effort (King of Effort)
Jade = Monsieur Mastermind^ (Mister Mastermind)
Floyd = Monsieur Yukaihan (Mister Joyous Offender)
Kalim = Roi d’Or (King of Gold)
Jamil = Monsieur Multi (Mister Multi)
Vil = Roi de Poison (King of Poison)
Epel = Monsieur Himeringo (Mister Lady Apple)
Idia = Roi de Ta Chambre (King of [Your] Room)
Ortho = Monsieur Doll (Mister Doll), “Miracle Boy”^
Malleus = Roi de Dragon (King of Dragons)
Lilia = Monsieur Curiosity^ (Mister Curiosity)
Silver = Monsieur Sleepyhead^ (Mister Sleepyhead)
Sebek = Monsieur Crocodile^ (Mister Crocodile)
Sam = Monsieur Mysterious (Mister Mysterious)
Rollo = Monsieur du Mouchoir (Mister Handkerchief)
Monikers ~ Other/General
・MC > Malleus ~ Hornton - Tsunotarou
・Malleus > Humans ~ Child of Man (hito no ko)
・Leona > Azul ~ Tako-yarou
・Leona > Idia ~ Kaiware daikon
・Leona > Humans ~ “Herbivore”
>>> Additionally, Leona often tags -yarou onto names when speaking of people he doesn’t think highly of
・Vil > Sebek ~ “Cucumber”
・Sebek > Malleus ~ Young Master (waka-sama)
・Cheka > Leona ~ Unca’ Leona - (Leona-)ojitan
・Neige > Vil ~ Vi-kun
・Vil > a great many students his junior ~ “Potato”
・Crewel > Students ~ “Puppies” (koinu-domo)
・Rollo > Trein ~ “Professor Mozus” (Mozus-sensei)
・Sam > Customers/Students > Little Imp ~ lit. “Little Demon” (ko-oni)
>>> Sam sometimes will add a descriptor to distinguish between “demons”–examples being Kalim’s kin no oni and Rook’s okappa oni
Unique Magic (Signature Spells)
Below is a comprehensive list of romanized furigana (that is, the intended/spoken) readings of Unique Magic names as they appear in the original Japanese version of the game.
Riddle Rosehearts - Off With Your Head
Deuce Spade - Bet the Limit
Cater Diamond - Split Card
Trey Clover - Doodle Suit
Leona Kingscholar - King’s Roar
Jack Howl - Unleash the Beast
Ruggie Bucchi - Laugh With Me
Azul Ashengrotto - It’s A Deal
Jade Leech - Shock The Heart
Floyd Leech - Bind The Heart
Kalim Al-Asim - Oasis Maker
Jamil Viper - Snake Whisper
Vil Schoenheit - Fairest One Of All
Epel Felmier - Sleep Kiss
Rook Hunt - I See You
Idia Shroud - Gate To The Underworld
Malleus Draconia - Fae of Maleficence
Silver - Meet In A Dream
Sebek Zigvolt - Living Bolt
Lilia Vanrouge - Far Cry Cradle
Rollo Flamme - Dark Fire
Fellow Honest - Life is Fun
Other Notes
+ Che’nya’s full name is rendered differently between the EN and JP versions.
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twst reference#twisted wonderland jp#twst jp#twst spoilers
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Goretober Day 20 - Symbolism
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Aneta Grzeszykowska, "Negative Book N° 45", 2012-2013
In Negative Book, Grzeszykowska paints her body black so as to appear bright in the exhibited negative image. These suspect images, obscure, spectral, and unreal in appearance, call attention to the gap between the reality photography purports to capture and the photographic process itself. Though Grzeszykowska stands out vividly in each scene, especially when in contrast with other figures, the artifice of the image defeats any suggestion of intimacy or invitation to identify with the subject. Instead, Grzeszykowska's procedure emphasizes her isolation from both the viewer and the scene she inhabits. In contrast to these startling negatives, in Negative Make Up, the juxtaposition of the negative, which seems true, and positive, which reveals the deceit, demonstrates how the makeup masks a semblance or vice versa - how, via photography, a convincing illusion of reality might be forged.
more + https://artviewer.org/aneta-grzeszykowska-at-lyles-king/.
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Insidious Inside Job: Halloween pt. 1
Note: Inspired by skoshibuns fanart on instagram + I have songs linked with each segment for the specific portion that goes with the monster, the plot, or both
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, AFAB + GN PRONOUNS, monster-fucking, blood, inhuman creatures, the undead, various Halloween-y phenomena + food mention + cockwarming + literal blatant sex with monsters and creatures of the night + probably more
Content: smut, spooky scary spectral holiday smuttening, monster and inhuman creature fucking, usual debauchery you can expect from me, dicks and puss, inhuman and monster genitalia, reader has AFAB nethers/genitalia and a cunt but I don’t describe about tits so folks are safe, I used gender neutral pronouns all throughout as well. Mentions of underwear and generalized clothing but no bras or gendered articles of clothing except just underwear and general clothing.
! ! ! This is part one, with Gigi + JR + Glenn + a bonus character. Part two, which will be posted and located here, includes Reagan + Brett + Andre + Robotus + Myc! ! !
Gigi Thompson: V A M P I R E
• song: Bloodletting (The Vampire Song) - Concrete Blonde
- She’s quite literally the hottest woman you’ve ever met, even though her body is stone cold forevermore — you and her met by chance, her needing to feed and finding you irresistibly alluring and you thinking you’ve struck the lottery and are about to have the best fuck since — well, ever.
- Gigi kept getting confused, torn with the need to sink her teeth into your neck and taste that metallic sweetness, like copper pennies bathed in honey, but pulled back during every opportunity and opening she had in the cover of darkness to do it. She had watched you from afar for a while, far longer than you had even known her or had her on your radar. You were so naively oblivious, just a darling little thing in the line of sight from Gigi’s reddened irises.
- but the one night she forced herself to just get it over with, make a meal out of you, she kept acquiescing, changing her plan from luring you out and killing you outright to lingering a little longer, playing with her food. Then it shifted to going out, toying longer, and sharing food in some dark corner of a restaurant, to following you home and getting invited in.
- and here you are, bright-eyed and eager, so dazedly star-eyed that you’ve got no clue what her intentions truly are with you. That she could shred you into ribbons and suck you dry if every precious drop of blood within your thumping, steady veins. But she doesn’t. Oh no, Gigi’s body craves more than just the ambrosial vice seeping through your heart, she wants your touch, to taste the other parts you have to offer. She makes a full meal out of you, long manicured fingernails traipsing across your skin as she sheds you of your clothing, letting it slide off your skin to puddle on the floor in a wrinkly, hazardous mess.
- Gigi leaves little marks of deep burgundy lip prints across your collar, marking you a necklace in her kisses around your oh-so-tempting throat, shedding the last of your clothing sans some drenched underwear she peels off. She urges you into your bed, making an idle comment about the poster bed canopy that shrouds the two of you even more from sight. Gigi pries your thighs apart and settles into her hors d’oeuvre, teeth sunken in and hidden away in order to lap at your pulsing clit, sending her nerves alight. She wants to cut you open and leave you raw, eat everything from you until there’s nothing left. She wants to utterly consume you. To know everything about all of your parts, the intricacies of your thoughts, crack you open like a geode that only her undead eyes get to see. Get to feel the crystalline facets within that no one else could have ever uncovered.
- instead of carving you open, she lets you bestow your own offerings, having her touch shatter you anew and burst you open as you cum on her tongue endlessly. she treats your cunt like a blessed goblet, letting her lips and tongue worship the pooling slick that drips forth onto her awaiting mouth to savor all the facets of your taste. It’s so much better than she could have ever fathomed.
- in her latest sprawl of meals they’ve been mediocre, the equivalent of a microwave dinner in the range of quality of bloodletting. But you, the way your slick feels against her tongue and glosses her already dark, puffy lips, enveloping her heightened senses like a murky fog, you’re nothing short of bewitching. and she doesn’t plan to let you go.
- She eats you out with fervor, the pads of her fingers prying your legs apart and being careful with the digits, knowing the glossy nails are pointed and sharp, making sure her thumb against your clit rolls in circles and shapes in a pressure that drives stars behind your eyes. Humming against your weeping slit, she comes up for the air she doesn't need, lungs as still as fake flowers laid upon a grave. "Don't you taste divine," Gigi purrs in the dark of your room, eyes alight in a manner that had your pried open legs wanting to shut an rub together as you squirmed, more than just hot and bothered. No, you were practically steaming and Gigi felt it, her cold skin soaking up your warmth like the last look at a lover.
- She wishes she could just bite her nails down shorter to play with you even more, slide her hand into the warmth of your cunt and play around, finding your most tender spots and drinking whatever you have to offer her. She could live a hundred undead lifetimes in just what you have offered already in this night alone. Gigi doesn't know how or why, but she gives you her attention and care and hopes that all the words she hasn't said come forth in her lips against your heated, still full-of-life skin.
- She cages you in and has you beneath, bare and only wearing the remnants of a button-down top she tore off of you in order to bite and mark up your chest. "Can I fuck you?" emerges from you, and it's not rushed or hurried as it flies from your puffy, swollen, and kiss-abused lips. It's calculated, and your eyes are lidded low and glimmer in the light and Gigi wants to remember the sight until her final days. It has traces of what home used to feel like to her and stutters a feeling in her heart that lay dormant for decades, centuries even. God, you're so darling, so she will continue to call you as such.
_ "You dont have to ask me twice," Gigi utters with a grin so sweet, you taste the sugar in your mouth just from the sight of it, "Be a doll and help me out of this dress?" Your hands hurry to remove her clothing, practically falling asunder when you go to remove her tights and find stockings in their stead, thick bands for her garter belt, and the thin straps holding them together. She could kill you between her legs and crush your skull like a rotten melon and you'd still be beaming from ear to ear.
- Once she's stripped, clad in a lingerie set that clings to her like it was painted on, thin slivers of silk and velvet cup her breasts and have transparent panels that shimmer, making her body lie behind what looks like erotic slivers of stained glass windows. The panties match, thin bows on the sides tying them together. The garter belt emphasizes the sway of her waist and the curve of her hips and is taut lower at the ties to the stockings that make your mouth both dry and flood with too many yet not enough words. Yeah, you would willingly die at the mercy of her hands without concern.
- You get her settled among the pillows beneath the canopy of your bed, feeling as if she was meant to be there, always with her languid form curled and splayed across your sheets and rubbing her thighs together and reaching a manicured hand out to pull you closer, into a holy hell you'd enjoy ever step into the descent of.
- Paused for a moment, you shake back to reality with a sway of your head and reluctantly move away, looking back as you step away at her and cheekily utter "just stay right there, I'll be just a moment," and smile at her gentle laugh. You sort through a drawer, pulling forth a special little toy you never thought you'd get to use, a little double-ended number you'd love to christen with her cunt. Turning back, you nearly drop the toy and the bottle of lube at the sight of her, hair across her shoulders and bra straps lowering dangerously down her shoulders as she shallowly bucks into her hand that's in her panties, moving lazily. Her eyes open and peer up at you, and she grins something wicked when she reaches her free hand across her thigh and pats her flesh, beckoning you forth.
- You practically hurdled into bed.
- Eager hands pry her thighs apart while you busy yourself in darting kisses across her collar, teeth moving to bite at her bra straps and drag them both down before leaning back, settling between her spread thighs to reach back and flick the clasp off of her bra. Gigi shucks off the garment, tossing it aside in the room and enjoying the way you fall slack and in awe of her partially nude, finding her chest nothing short of exemplary.
- "are you even real?" you marvel aloud, feeling as if you're in the presence of a statue come to life as if some renaissance statue woke and wandered into your life, your heart, and your bed. Lucky you.
- "I could say the same for you. Such a sweet thing you are." Gigi murmurs in response, eyes doting in equal to her caress of your side, feeling the warmth of your ribcage and beating heart beneath, seeing the chills sprawl across your body at her ice touch. Her legs spread and she pulls the ties of her panties, silky bows undone as she removes and tosses her underwear, bare beside her garter and stockings. You wish she could kill you, it would be kinder than this.
- She smirks, leaning back and nestling against the pillows, hair sprawled around her head and shoulders as she grins up at you, "Oh but I think living suits you much more." Gigi shucks off your tattered blouse and you toss it out of the way, lowering down upon her and kissing her body, marveling at her breasts and the peak of her perked nipples with your tongue, practically at home and near creaming when she snakes a hand across your hair.
- You make your way down to her cunt and find her clit, sucking and licking with greedy eagerness, hands sliding beneath her thighs to lift them over your shoulders. She takes it from there, locking them at the ankles while she takes your hands in hers, sliding them up her body until she plants them over her tits, and you oblige, palms cupping handfuls and rolling thumbs across her nipples in flicks while you busy yourself with lowering to her lips and licking through them.
- "oh fuck, a little harder," she asks, pleading in a pitch that lifts, voice airier and lighter now that you've got her at your generous, plentiful mercy. You'd give her the world, everything you could reach and beyond. "You need not ask again." you tease, echoing her words from earlier when you nose her clit briefly through a patch of curls and return back to breach your tongue in her cunt, moaning at the taste and squeezing her chest while you did so, smiling against her cunt as you feel her shudder and draw you in.
- "you taste fucking immaculate," you murmur while breaching for air,, looking up at her from between her thighs, taking a moment to tease. One hand stays on her breast while the other lowers to help you part her lips and then slides into her cunt, two fingers entering without issue and scisssoring in her cunt, spreading and then curling upwards. Gigi jolts and arches, lip tugged between teeth you envy. You almost halt when you spot fangs, pronounced and pointed against her lower lip. A normal reaction would be fear, disgust, maybe even some anxiety or paranoia. Not you - you just fuck her faster, better, and want those teeth buried in your neck.
- "holdin' out on me, huh?" you breath against her clit, grazing teeth against it and soothing with your tongue, suckling between sentences to see her shake and tremble, "should've known you were something unearthly, too pretty to be normal." You fuck your fingers into her, sighing in gratification at the sound her soaked cunt makes when you play with it, pinching her nipple and sending her crying out as you feel her hips lift off the bed occasionally,. grinding into your face and you are savoring every single second.
- You've peaked the moment she became interested in you, but you've surpassed everything and everyone when you managed to get her attracted to you and now, rendered into a bundle of high-strung and coiled nerves, ready to snap.
- She comes with a cry of your name on her lips, mouth gaped and enticing with those sharp canines you wanna' toy with. But that's for later. Now, you clean her up and bide your time with the touch of tongue and fingertips, soothing her and ushering her down from the high of orgasm, murmuring her name like a holy prayer and beaming from between her legs, calling out once her red eyes lock upon your grinning form betwixt her stocking-clad thighs.
- "wheres that toy you had? I'll fuck us with it then suck your veins dry and keep you around, you're never leaving if you can fuck me like that and look at me with all that love in your eyes." Gigi promises, like a god laying across an offering bed, handing you the world in a gesture so soft that it wins over the pillows.
- Lucky you indeed.
JR Scheimpough: G H O S T
• song: Ghost Of A Texas Ladies Man - Concrete Blonde
- you weren’t going to let a gossipy rumor of ghosts hold you back from owning a fucking perfect Victorian mansion — listed reasonably and in your price range — in the country, just thirty minutes or so commute from your work.
- it had a goddamn greenhouse, fuck them ghosts.
- you adjusted well, reapplied polish after re-gritting the checkerboard tiles in the main walkway, weeding the garden and scattering oyster shell fragments and slate for the landscape, running gas and electrical through the house to turn on the sconces with those scalloped, filigree light fixtures now aglow. You made that house your home and even that kitchen was amazing. You loved every minute of it.
- until the house began to turn on you. Lights flickering at odd hours, almost seeming to be talking, flickering in response to words or actions. The trees whistling during overcast days in a manner that seemed too ominous for outdoors. Movements in the corner of your eye. Fuck all that.
- you were this close until the breaking point, the crux within the ordeal, to calling in someone to cleanse the house or bless it.
- the master bathroom was nothing short of lavish, marble tiles in ornate patterns littering the floor with cornflower blue ceilings and ornate wallpaper, littered with filigree and ornamental flowers and imagery, pastel greens and blues only further enamoring you with the room. It had a walk in shower, updated with an overhead shower head with a rainfall spout and jets, a bench, and one of those glass window panes. The double sink with the decorative brass faucets, resting below a giant mirror. And the pièce de résistance was the tub.
- a gorgeous oversized claw foot bathtub lay apart, seated in the center of a tri-paned window overlooking the backyard landscape and garden, drenched in sunlight. It was only furthered by the crystals you hung in the windows, fragments of prismal glow dotted around the room, twinkling like a rainbow broke and scattered it’s pieces in your home.
- you’d been taking a break from working on the house this weekend, wanting to just relish in it and let your aching bones recuperate. Bath soak makes the water almost thick, a thin gloss of it sticking to your limbs that peak out from the water. Bubbles are spread throughout the water surface, glimmering with minuscule reflections of the noon-day light from the windows that send them towards your shiny skin.
- your neck is perched on the raised lip of the tub, arched perfectly for your posture and just so that it allows you to rest your eyes. Until the crystals on the window begin to sway and spin, and the large vanity mirror above the sink fogs over with a chill that you don’t feel near you just yet. It fogs over partially, a murky space where one would sit on the sink counter makes you realize those rumors were real.
- stark naked, tub-bound is an unfortunate state to realize you did have spectral housemates.
- “if you’re going to stare, at least let me see what you look like. Even the playing field here fucko.” You’ve got no clue where you found your voice, nor why it spoke of its own accord, but you know you should not have said that but it’s too late now.
- in a shimmer, the form appears, perched in a manner that drips with cheeky and smarmy bravado, displaying an older man who seems all too glad to see a human in the flesh - yet you kinda like his spirit.
- he’s donned in glasses, framing colorless eyes drenched in a void sans the ice-blue irises gazing at you. He’s got on a pinstripe suit, a few decades too old to mean he’s died recently, looking like a Halloween advert for a Mad Men episode.
- “well, isn’t that a warm welcome.” His voice chitters, almost otherworldly with how it seems to phase in and out of your ears, hovering like even sound is trying to decide whether to believe in him. “Hello babydoll, pleasure to finally speak with you. I’d shake your hand but, Y’know.” He feigns nonchalance, gesturing vaguely and you’re not sure if he’s alluding to the fact you’re buckass nude or that he’s unable to touch things – only phasing through them in that spectral nature.
- “didn’t stop’ya from waltzing into my bathroom and watching me.” You pause for a moment, eyeing him warily and sinking lower in the tub before the curiosity creeps inwards, twisting and invading like ivy crawling up brick, “what’s your name?”
- the ghoul’s head tilts, smiling in an amused way that’s both endearing and mocking, eyes shining like ice cubes twinkling in a water glass, “JR –“ he cuts you off as your mouth opens, “No not junior, just J-R.” He trails, eyes locking on you briefly from where they would pretend to find the wallpaper interesting, “yours?”
- and so you utter your name aloud, watching him almost relish in it as if your name was a secret that he’d been searching for. He repeats it, pronouncing it correctly and seems almost casual before he grins, “pretty name for such a cute little thing such as yourself.”
- you’d strangle him is he wasn’t already dead.
- he laughs, and you realize with horror you said that aloud. “Didn’t think you were that kinky, aren’t you full of suprises!” You toss a soap bar in his direction, not expecting the thud nor the sound of it hitting the floor after it landed off his - apparently solid - chest.
- You catch a glimmer in the dead eyes of JR, they flash red — for a millisecond only, just enough to show he’s not just the pretty charmer sitting on your sink. And unfortunately for you, that unnerving danger is just your thing. He notices.
- dark eyes glint and that Cheshire grin returns, JR busying himself with rolling up his sleeves as he notes the dilation in your pupils and the way your legs rub together, water rippling and sending barely-there glimpses of what lies beneath the soapy water of your body.
- “Oh, a mighty kinky thing you are. All hot and bothered for a ghost — pity. But why leave you all to your lonesome here?” He drawls, winking as he steps off the counter and his shoes click at the tile floor, black loafers so shiny they look freshly polished in the midday light. “Why not, keep your lively, darling self company? Hmm?” JR hums a note, nearing the tub and sitting on his haunches, forearms resting on the lip of the tub and teasingly pretending to peek downwards but keeping his attention on you.
- “that —“ you pause, caught up in ice cube eyes that you cannot seem to pry away from, struggling to find the weight of your tongue and get it to work, “that may work.” And he smiles, always smiling, this specter, “what a wonderful answer. Now — how about we get you out of that tub.”
- Y’know what, you would go along with your previous advice. Fuck them ghosts.
- Sitting up, slow enough to let the water adjust and not slosh over the side of the tub and ruin the fluffy bathmat nearby, you maintain eye contact while the suds drip down your chest and expose your torso. You lean up to hover near him, not feeling any chill but just a presence, a wave, that emanates. The closer you are, the stronger it feels, and when you run a sudsy hand over his temple, brushing a stray hair back, you feel him. he’s real. and he’s determined to show you just how much.
- JR’s about to move, most likely kiss you, but you lean back. Completely pull away. And he looks dejected and it’s a dreadful sight on an already dead man. You stand, stepping out the tub and move to grab your towel. It’s gone.
- “missing something?”
- you turn, an eyebrow raised in what is currently the longest moment of you having a complete absence of self consciousness or shame, and fix him with a look and glance around for your bathrobe and towel that you knew you had in there.
- “this is a bit ridiculous,” you roll your eyes at his expectant look, muttering to yourself that this is the most ob-fucking-scene moment of your life, “towel please.”
- “nope. quite like how it’s going without one personally.” JR muses, pursing his lips to avoid smiling while standing and rocking back and forth on his heels.
- “oh sweet fucking christ—“ “I thought I told you my name” you’re this close to abandoning the plan of fucking the ghost but you turn and see he’s got your robe, which was on the other side of the room, in his hands outstretched and ready for you to step into.
- you do, bare feet against tile now sending a shudder than sprawls through you, settling goosebumps across your skin and for you to visibly squirm, only to get enveloped in your plush bathrobe and have him usher you into the sleeves. It’s quite domestic as he loosely ties the robe, large bow barely closing the fabric, still revealing the entirety of your legs and barely covering your pelvis.
- His head hovers around your shoulder, him standing behind you still with hands perched at the tie-belt of your robe, “still want company?” and with his voice, the eerily charming timbre of it, how could you deny yourself the opportunity?
- you murmur your answer before you yourself even process it, nodding and saying a soft absolutely just before you turn around, stepping backwards and grabbing onto cold hands and leading him into your bedroom. You thumb the knuckles and realize they’re very soft and that the chill isn’t so terrible, not overly cold. Warming him up wouldn’t take much if anything at all.
- “darling place you’ve got here,” he jokes, brows raising as he watches you walk then seat yourself on the edge of your bed, “just love what you’ve done with it.” JR continues to stand, fiddling with his tie and buttons before he halts his movements, hiding the hesitation by feigning the intention to move them to his pants pockets. you’re about to ask why, but then you see the glimmer of indentions near his Adam’s apple, pearlescent skin dusky mauve and periwinkle, understanding sinking into your features that he cannot miss. He chuckles, the dark and bitter kind and that red glint almost appears but instead that ice blue turns white then back to the clearish hue.
- “Guess I stuck my neck out for the wrong guy.” And you swallow, knowing that’s certainly a story for another time but you move on seeing that he wants to as well, rising to smooth your palms across his shirt vest and to begin undoing his tie. In a normal circumstance, it’s quite sweet, the image of you wrapped up in a bathrobe and undressing him from the remnants of a suit as if getting ready for bed. But this is no normal circumstance, and you two are far from a normal pair.
- And as you feel at the skin of his neck, bared of his starched shirt collar and tie, you look beyond and thumb at his jaw and lean to kiss at the juncture near his ear. “Well, I’m here now,” you trail off, feeling barely-there hands hover at your waist, “if that helps?” He barely moves and already has you splayed on the bed, peering up at him and seeing him slowly shift from being semi-transparent to completely opaque. Solid. Still ghostly but physically there and it’s a relief, not wanting to voice your concerns of spectral sex and how that really would work.
- “It does.” JR grins, chilled hands shucking off the bathrobe and leaving it beneath your frame until your bare hips lift up and he tugs it out from under, tosses it, then pauses. He leans back, hands flexing and his teeth biting into his bottom lip as he gazes up and down at all of you, admiring blatantly. “Oh honey, it really does.”
- you’re already soaked, which is a relief to you because you didn’t want to navigate foreplay or delve overly so into exploring each other’s bodies. You wanted him, wanted to know how he felt, how he’d feel filling you. JR delivers.
- cold, dead, dextrous hands lift your thighs up and rest the underside notch of your knees on his forearms. His appears shifts, like a ripple rolling over a still waters surface, appearing and disappearing all at once. His shirts unbuttoned and partially tucked into the back of his slacks, belt gone and pants undone. JR almost looks like he’s wearing a thick choker or a necklace and you pointedly avoid looking at it, knowing it’s not the place or time to call attention to a death mark.
- instead you grab onto clothing that feels like it’ll flutter away in your hold, unreal, not there, and tug him closer so he’s looming overhead — and if it wasn’t for the spectral visage, he’d look completely normal. As completely normal as a businessman from the 60’s could look. “Eager little thing, all neglected and alone in this big ol’ house.” JR croons, cheeky and feather light, feeling like a stuffed down pillow yet like a switchblade all the same, “not anymore, you’ve got me, dont’cha honey?”
- that’s the moment he removes his cock, blue tinged and with a weepy, bulbous tip, and slides it through your folds with emphasis. Snake oil salesman. Con man. You never want him to leave. You let out a thick “ungh-huh,” grunting response, squirming at the feel and wanting him in already, petty and petulant and wound up like a turn-dial toy, ceased in your puttering about.
- “Aw kitten, I’ve got you,” he murmurs once more, unnervingly genuine smile on his face. It’s crooked, imperfect. Good. “Easy for me, breathe — I’d demonstrate, but that’s just one thing I can’t do.” And just as your lips part to comment, he slides in, fat cockhead breaching your walls and nestling deep inside. It’s cold, foreign feeling, practically glasslike within you but it sends you clenching and grinding weakly back onto it, feeling your bare hips brush against wool-blend slacks and the weight of his gaze on you.
- “what a perfect, snug little fit this cunt has,” he muses, almost more intrigued than turned on. But he falters as the shift of your hips, eyes flickering like they’re phasing in and out, there one second the next they’re gone. “Fuck, do that again,” he orders after an angled grind while you clench your walls around him, sending his ragged and eyes aglow.
- you do, you clench and he bends you like a pretzel in response. Thighs to your chest, dick now kissing at your cervix which’ll end up bruised by the end of the day, and him even closer now. He’s not as cold, almost as if he’s warmed up. Did you do that?—
- “oohh yes, yes — you feel fantastic, so good to me,” JR babbles, hands splaying across your belly flat while the other is near your head, “so, so good to me.” He whines a bit in his thrusts, overwhelmed with pleasure as you feel the same. The foreign sensation fades as your hot cunt warms him, welcomes him, and stretches to accommodate. His pelvis and slacks brush against your clit, sending nerves alight and twinkling behind your eyes like the fractals from the prisms in the bathroom, rainbow shards scatter behind your eyes as JR steadily fucks into you. it takes you turning your head in an attempt to bury it in the sheets and comforter for you to realize you’re not actually on your bed. Oh, no. In fact, you’re several feet in the air above it.
- That’s hot.
- weeding a hand through his hair, you tug and bring him closer to your frame to press against you, thighs sandwiched between your body and his as his face looms above, eyes now half lidded and sapphire blue. his kiss is so cold it’s warm, tingly up to your toes, almost like spearmint threaded through your bones and body like a puppeteer’s strings. it doesn’t take many more thrusts, many more shifts of his incorporeal form to send you shuddering and gasping, clawing at him and crying out silently in an open mouthed cry as you cum.
- JR follows, unable to not fall under the same petite mort as you do, finding it much sweeter than the actual thing with the view he finds himself surrounded by. Pretty little breather, so eager to take him. He supposes having a housemate won’t be so bad.
Glenn Dolphman: SWAMP CREATURE
• song: It Will Come Back - Hozier
- you shouldn’t have gone this far out onto the boardwalks alone. Should’ve packed extra AA batteries for your flashlight, grabbed the stun gun from the glovebox of your car, sitting stagnant and useless in the National Park’s car lot.
- but now, now you’re alone and the suns starting the creep and inch downwards in the horizon, setting brackish and green water inky blue and drenched in oranges and yellows. It would be gorgeous and ethereal is you weren’t alone, and surrounded by open water and more threats than friends. You’d been there all day testing water and recording data for water pollution, making sure the water clarity was still as high as it was last month. The internship in the park’s department was new, testing your limnology skills and knowledge of freshwater ecosystems. But this place blended just likes it’s water, fresh and salt, murky and clear. And with the sun setting, that line got crossed. You’re in no man’s land, where the gators swim free.
- you won’t see morning.
- shutting off the flashlight allows you to conserve what you can for the night, same with your phone as you pace and try to figure out how far from the entrance you are and how much daylight you have left, gauging about 45 minutes to maybe 2 hours of light. Then, darkness. You feel like crying.
- there’s a tree, thick and stable with roots deep within the mud settled next to the wooden walk you’re on, and you settle against it, back rested on the wood and your legs sprawled on the walks planks, fiddling through your bag and wishing you’d brought more than your your water testing kit and supplies. Like a fucking knife, flare gun, something actually useful. What’s the goddamned chapstick gonna help with, making you look good for the gators?
- moving water unnerves you, the sound heavy and laden with weight, something slow moving underneath you and the thin, wooden slats. It has you getting on your feet in milliseconds and rushing in the opposite direction, knowing it’s at least closer to the beginning of the park. You run until you can’t and it’s already too late, suns gone down and abandoned you in the horizon, the light begins to fade with it. There’s the lurking after light, still hazy and silky in the clouds and it’s clouded the air. And you sit back down, curled in on yourself and trembling, eyes darting around yourself for any flicker of movement in the water.
- you hadn’t heard the water move beneath you as you ran earlier, hadn’t counted the shadows in the depths. Fatal mistakes.
- shadows lengthen then dissipate as they blend with the darkness that surrounds you, and you lean back and groan, practically whimpering as you hold in a cry. The water ripples around you, your form a little dot within a giant circle of ripples resting on the thin plank board walkway of the park.
- chest rattles are all that you feel, shaking like a leaf on a tree is all you can do as you worry about what we’re the last things you said to your loved ones, the last texts you sent, fuck you weren’t going to catch the show premiere for next month. Then the water ripples still, completely unnoticed by you. Again.
- you’ve turned away, looking at the horizon when it emerges, watching wistfully as the light fades and the darkness creeps in around you finally. Webbed digits spread against the wood supporting beams from underneath, it’s head precariously perched beneath the surface and slowly edging forwards and upwards until the eyes are the only lifted feature above the Spanish moss and algae-coated water surface. Golden brown eyes stare ahead, almost hazel if not for the unnaturally shaped pupils and too-glittery irises, reflective and almost iridescent as they flicker light in shades of gold leaf, chestnut, moss, and phthalo. You turn back and lock with them immediately in your line of vision, and your body seizes. You want to cry, want to scream and run, fucking beg. What the fuck is that thing. You want your friends and a blanket and to be woken up from this nightmare.
- but you’re frozen, and this is real.
- the form inches forward, so slowly you almost didn’t notice in your panicked state, creeping in the water in a way that couldn’t remind you of anything human. No alligator moves that way, no snapping turtle shifts like that. It’s too far up for a shark to make it in this brackish water, too fresh for that. Hell, catfish don’t get that big. This ain’t River Monsters. This is your reality. Hell.
- and the hell before you gets bigger until the arms splay across the wooden slats, water dripping down to soak the beams and lifting the body up and out, knees from bulky legs notched at one edge. It looms above you, dark eyes staring down into the very depth and well of your soul, practically toying with the dregs of whatever’s down in the bottom. Your eyes are wide, scream silent and stagnant in the bottom of your throat, tears welling in the corner of your saucer plate eyes while you lean down against the surface of the boardwalk and think of your loved ones and shut your eyes tight.
- It grunts then lumbers forth, head peering down at you with eyes unyielding and unrelenting, as harsh as staring directly into sunlight. It does not move after a few moments, just staying put. When your eyes open and warily look upwards, staring at what you expected to be death in the face, your mind goes blank.
- it still is a beast, a creature of proportions unknown to mankind or otherwise, something for the pages of nautical maps in the old ages to have painted alongside sea serpents and sirens. This, this is unfathomable.
- Whatever it is, looming overhead like death's scythe mid-swing sits still. Bulky arms and legs support the weight, and arms on both sides of your torso with legs kneeling outside of your own. The face is narrow, blunt nuzzle protruding with a murky green appearance all over. There are scars and gashes, all paler pinks and greys with the gouges healed and appearing old. Faded and worn, leathery.
- your attention is drawn back to reality once you hear a deep-pitched chitter, sounding more like a rattle, emanate from its chest and throat. It's almost playful, and then you catch the eyes and they've changed. They look human.
- Before you can say anything or voice a concern, the blunt nose of the beast leans down near your neck, and you freeze, wondering what it's doing. Instead of its mouth opening and teeth sinking into your flesh, tearing your throat and life out, it bumps at your pulse. The softened feel of its nose nudges at your neck, once, twice, and huffs a breath of warm air.
- It leans down on what would be the equivalent of shins and forearms, water dripping from its form and soaking your khaki shorts and your work shirt, underwear growing damp with how drenched the articles of clothing become. Your hands are at your sides, cheek pressed to the wooden board beneath you as you feel its breath and puffs of hot air at your neck. There's barely anything you can see around his form, its size so massive it blocks your peripheral.
- you hear it growl out near your ear, limbs brushing yours, and it repeats the noise then you realize with a shock that it’s speaking, the garbled, drowned tone emerging through its throat like reaching through muck and mud.
- “pretty.”
- your freezing and cold, firghtened and expecting death to soon take you, and yet the sound of the backroad gravel and unearthly, rough voice pulled you forth. Almost like a sirens song, luring the sailors directing the course of your consciousness into the sea to sink to the bottom in ribbons of flesh and tissue.
- you think, until you don’t, when a leg notches between yours and this thing, this behemoth above you, grinds against you. There’s a small, still present logical part of yourself but even that braincell jumped ship the second the thick, pulsing muscle of its thigh hit between your clothed, soaked legs.
- growls and animal-like chitters and coos go unheard as your mind blanks over and you’re lifting hands to feel across its arms, his arms from what you could understand, and dart across jagged tissue scars and roughened, thick skin as you lift your hips up and grind you hips into its groin, rewarded with a hot huff against your sticky collarbone and a thickening fleshy weight growing against you.
- “smell r’good.” Comes out slow and jumbled, but sweet for a horny swamp monster that’s about to fuck you stupid. You almost laugh, smoothing a hand up a shoulder in disbelief and wondering just how truly main character you were until you get your clothes quite literally torn off of you into ribbons upon the boardwalk planks and slats, clad barely in underwear and your shoes that stayed on your feet, your ankles hitched over his thighs. Your legs couldn’t even touch his back let alone lock over them.
- “thank you,” you murmur, grinding against him again and keening when his teeth graze, the creature pressing more weight against you once his dick unsheathes. You don’t see it, can’t with the closeness but you feel it. It’s hot, and a spare hand wanders to toy and find with wonder that it dwarfs your hand. Good for you. “Gonna’ take care of me?”
- where did the real you go and what monsterfucker took your place, fucking a swamp monster in a National Park — and no dinner? Damn.
- it huffs an approving groan, nodding a blunt nose against the slope of your neck and at your mercy as your hand plays with his dick, feeling it move and twitch wildly in your lax grip. You carry on, grazing fingertips over a blooming cockhead and weeping slit, running over ridges and veins until he grows tired and tears your underwear in half down the central seam, prying your legs open and grinding his dick through your slick, the sound echoing almost.
- with a lip tugged between your teeth, hands scramble for purchase as enormous arms and sides, digging in your nails a tad once that blunt, flared cockhead drags across your clit then slinks in, breaching your cunt slowly and stretching it. You take inch after inch in an achingly slow pace, whining and twisting in this things hold and wanting to get fucked already, but it knows better. Cant break a new fuck toy on the first go.
- it’s tedious but rewarding in the end once you get nearly three quarters of its dick in you, pulsing hot and twitching against taut walls, feeling full and warm in contrast to your icy skin from the cold, warming up slowly but surely.
- the creature edges forth in a small thrust, testing the shift then picks the pace up rapidly, hips snapping as a hand lifts your ass up from beneath in order to sink in more of his dick and see it disappear into the warmth of your cunt.
- pressure builds, making your toes curl first and your nails dig a bit into the bicep muscles of the arm your holding onto, another flattened across the back of a shoulder blade and rocking softly back in forth to meet thrusts, voice too broken to scream out, whimpering and moaning out for this monster above thats both the softest and most impressive sex partner you’ve had in a while.
- God Bless National Parks.
- after a while the pace steadies and the continuous brush of his giant dick, making a mess of your pretty cunt and sending slick dripping down your thighs, gets you close to cumming, feeling that warmth spread up the back of your legs and in your belly, blossoming forth in your rib cage and chest, curling around your heart like silken ribbon.
- the steady pat patt patting of his balls against your ass also sends you into a hormonal frenzy, loving how warm and treasured you were in the moment. The pressure builds and you start muttering and crying out, legs shaking around his thighs once it builds closer, a litany of “gonna’ cum gonna’ cum, gonna’ cum please lemme’ cum f’you.” That sends the pace to perk up as well as the behemoth, a shift lifting your ass in the palms of his webbed hands and thrusting you back and forth on its cock, using you with as much ease as one would fuck a sex toy.
- a few bruising knocks of that mushroomy, blunt tip against your cervix sends you creaming around his cock, just in time for him to cum and fill your greedy cunt while you’re agape and shut-eyed as the tremors wrack your body, falling victim to the power of orgasm, wracking your brain like a fog that slowly fades into a haze.
-The once rapid thrusts stutter and fade, continuing until you’re both fully spent and dated and you’re weighted down with a heavy beast that’s the warmest weighted blanket you’ve ever tried, feeling content all plugged up and held. Felt great, fan-fucking-tastic.
- the giant hands holding you tight splay over your heated, damp and sweat-slicked skin and shift, you press a kiss to its cheek and dart more down his neck, nosing it so sweetly he draws you even impossibly closer.
- later on, when you’ll go to work and be unafraid in the dark and cheery and bright in the day, it’ll be due to the rippling force hiding in your shadow as you make your rounds and tend to your tasks, biding the time until nightfall.
- and you feel it’s eyes on you always, but instead of a weight clutching at your throat or coiled between your ankles, it rather lies across your shoulders like a well-beloved overcoat. Warm and powerful and strong. Roughened. Uniquely yours in the best of ways. Especially when swamp creatures are concerned.
— Bonus —
Delaney Whitmore: T H E D E V I L
• song: Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode
- Waking up in the same day, over and over, endlessly for what has been a week now is already getting old. You’ve been shot, run over, electrocuted, and even gutted. Dumped into a ravine. Drowned in the lake with weights and chains, got hit by a train, even got your throat slit. You want it to be over and you’ve got no clue what’s going on. There’s only so much one can learn from Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, and it seems that even he ain’t doing you no favors. You're tired, traumatized, reeling day in and out, and facing death with a chagrin belonging to even the most exhausted reluctant heroes. But you are no hero, no, you are a stranger, a normal person, trapped in an endless loop and feel as if the eyes of ouroboros are gazing down in mocking, chiding laughter. You feel doomed.
- You find answers, or more accurately, a cause to your cruelly violent cycle. She’s been present the most out of all the passersby, with different clothes and different styles of hair, always a bystander and stranger, nearby to watch the fallout behind tinted brown sunglass lenses and a burgundy-lipped grin. God, what a bitch.
- You finally see her up close, spotting and cornering her in the back booth of a dark bistro in town, a flute of something dark and bubbly tucked between her hand and her manicured nails. They match her lipstick. “Having fun? How’s the loop treating you, I’ve tried to make at least the dying random,” she coos, stirring around the decorative garnish that rims her cocktail before turning her body to face yours, “wouldn’t want it to be overly repetitive. That just becomes so redundant, but enough about my little spoils. Introduce yourself, go on, I’ve just been dying to meet you.”
- faltering, you eye her outstretched hand warily, noting the several rings on her fingers and the watch, the gloss of her nail polish in the low light of the room. You shake her hand, noting the firm grip and authenticity behind it, and sit down across from her, shifting against the worn faux leather booth seats and hating the sound.
- “sorry about the surroundings, can’t really alter this stuff unless I wanted to immediately call attention and ruin the game. No fun in that.” She noted the visible discomfort on your face, showing interest and care that seems ingenuine with how real it felt, “now go on, introduce yourself. Treat a lady.” She all but purrs, sipping at her drink and smiling with something wicked and dark in her teeth. Her pointed, sharp teeth. Just the canines.
- and so you do, blurting out your name and watching her process it, and you take her in. Deep brown waves settle down and rest in curls upon her shoulders. She’s got big, Jackie O-style glasses on again, paired with the deep red lip. There’s twinkling gold jewelry dotted around her body, across the collar, several across the ears, her rings, and the watch.
- “what a darling name,” is what pulls you forth from the stupor you found yourself in while staring, seeing her settle her chin in her palm and her elbow upon the table, “usually it takes months or even years for someone to find me, let alone single me out. Clever.” She chimes, sipping once more at something you can’t decipher, maybe champagne with a mixer. “Would you like something to eat, or drink perhaps? They’ve got great appetizers.” Before you can answer she snaps her fingers, the thwick of the sound much louder than you’d expect it, like when hearing someone whistle for a taxi.
- a waiter appears, scattering two menus and place settings quickly before the two of you and topping off her flute with something from a corked bottle, scrawled in looping cursive and definitely champagne, then adds a bit of a syrup that smells like pomegranates. The drops sink like dye does, blooming forth in swirls that resemble the Rorschach inkblots. She catches your inquiring gaze. “I love the taste on its own, but there’s just something about the little dash of syrup I’ve come to love.” She drawls, and you finally catch the locale of it, southern. Not too deep, not too slow to be truly at the southernmost part of the United States, but lulling along enough to be southern. Drips forth like the syrup does.
- “reminds me of those myths and tales of Persephone, those pomegranates that locked her to the underworld for part of the year and to Hades’ realm. Those Grecian tales, so full of woe and death.” She rolls her eyes behind the glasses, unable to see but still noted in the movement of her brows in addition to the gesture of her hand. She asks about what you plan on eating and you’re unsure, not just about the food but about the overall situation. Trapped in a hellish loop, sitting down with the one who’s caused it all, with no clear motive, and yet you can’t feel mad. It’s like sedation, sitting with her, numbing the raw and angry parts of yourself.
- you force yourself to come up with what you’ll eat, getting urged by her for an appetizer too, saying you deserve it. Who is this woman? After giving your answer she calls back over the waiter and prattles off your meal choices and her own, kindly and hands back one of the menus but keeps the other and sidles it against the wall of the table, “in case there’s dessert,” she winks.
- you stare, questions rattling about in your head and overloading you, making you just blurt out what was pressing you the most of all the queries you had. And she laughs. It’s a twinkling, delightful sound. It’s laced with something that warns you to not trust completely. “Who am I? Oh darlin’ I was wondering when you’d get around to askin’ that,” she sips her drink then sets it aside, drumming her nails against the hardwood of the table before grinning with pointed teeth that indent at her lip. She takes off the glasses, thick lashes dusting her cheeks before opening to reveal her irises. Gold, just like her rings. Then she speaks.
- “Babydoll, I’m the devil.”
- there’s the one half of you that’s been expecting that sort of answer, relishing in a way that’s akin to an “I’m right! Suck it!” internal celebration. The other half is in a myriad of what the fucks, wondering what is going on and why you’re talking to the devil and why is she hot?? Confused, bewildered, and utterly at a loss. “Why are you doing this to me?” Is what flies from your lips next, still confused as to why you’re even here and why you’re talking with devil as you discuss your looped-in-hell situation.
- “it’s actually quite interesting, y’see, you’re the offspring of someone that owes me. Big time. The resolution was made, through crossroads bargains — Y’know the black magic, Anne Rice novel typa’ shit — and I’m sorry to break the news Sugar, but you’re the price that got paid. The loop was something I’m fiddling with to perfect it, just unfortunate luck that you were the next contestant. In summary short, your heart, soul, and ass are mine.” The devil answers, in sprawling words that sound like signatures spoken aloud as if the personality of someone’s handwriting was flung into the air to be heard.
- you stammer, words failing again, and then the food gets plated before you along with a glass poured with one of your favorite drinks. “Dig in, food won’t bite. I do on the other hand,” she teases, chiding and amused, “ask any questions you’ve got and I’m happy to answer them. I’m rarely in the company of such gorgeous creatures anyhow.”
- Blinking, you’re reeling from everything, and take a fork full of whatever food is in front of you and chew before you say another stupid thing. You watch her, and she goes about her actions as if this is any other day — and you suppose it is, her being Satan and all. She’s tall, taller than yourself you suppose, with a body that’s curved in ways that must’ve written the rules of temptation and sin, especially lust you think as you glance at cleavage that’s just too alluring. All of her is, it’s unfair. Cruel. It’s fitting. She’s the devil, Satan, the big bad, queen of darkness, etcetera.
- “is it the appearance? Sometimes people expect me to have the whole monstrous look, wings and the tail and hooves,” she prompts, eying you with a curious gaze as she sticks a fork into a piece of fried calamari, “I can slip into something hornier if you’d like.” And you almost choke on what you’re chewing before you realize it was a joke, and you see her laugh. She snorts. Imperfect. “Sorry, sorry — i just love that joke so much, it’s funnier when I make the horns show up. At least sometimes it is.”
- “do you not naturally look like that?” Is how you respond, eating another forkful afterward to stop you from rambling or commenting on her appearance, and how yes, you would like to see her step into something hornier. “I do, there’s just degrees and a range in which I look, this being the original form I was made in. The extra stuff is flair from being the devil I’d assume, and the embodiment of all that is evil,” she trails off, chewing then moving on, “it’s not like I was born and immediately formed into lady of all unholiness, what, do you think my name is just The Devil?”
- “is it?” You expect her to laugh, but she just smiles and sips her drink, eying you while she does before setting the glass back down. “It’s not. My name’s Delaney, but I haven’t heard anyone call me that in a long, long time.” And you think about that last segment, wondering how far back it was since she was seen as a person or a thing rather than just the devil.
- “it’s a lovely name,” you comment, turning back to your food only to glance up and see a subtle flush on her olive-skinned features. “Thank you.”
- you note the reaction for later, but soon enough you feel the time of your meal blurring by you, the time more fleeting than wisps of snow in winter's blanketing season. It’s the end of the meal, and conversation flows while the devil escorts you home, elbow crooked in hers as she walks nearest the road and you’re nestled between her and the buildings as the sidewalk takes you home.
- “soul for your thoughts?” She chimes, sunglasses back on her head but she glances over at you from the lens's rim, smiling impishly and turning once you arrive at the steps to your house. “No, no, just wondering about something.”
“Oh? Do tell, love t’hear what’s rattling around in that skull of yours.”
“Feels like a first date.”
- she blinks, and you watch the processing moment before she grins wicked and lazy-like, eyes half-lidded as she extends a hand in proposition. “Would you like to skip to after the third?”
- you say yes, you’re not a fool, and it’s not as if she walks you inside and fucks you silly. No, within a whirlwind you see hours go by and get your consciousness inserted back until when the third date would be. And you’re in the middle of getting eaten out when this gift of consciousness is bestowed. The timing is nothing short of absolutely glorious.
- she’s got you perched on a marble top vanity in a lavish bedroom, a blend of Victorian or Rococo with the scrollwork and filigree in the wood craftsmanship you garner while trying to prevent your orgasm so you can make it last, staring at the ceiling and an ornate tulip-shaped glass light fixture and thinking of other things to not literally black out just yet.
- “There’s my little one, back to me now, okay?” She breaks up from her assault on your pussy, thumb idly rolling circles and smoothing shapes into your puffy clit, “Let go for me so mommy can make a meal out of you.” She smooths your thighs back open and coos when she blows air upon your cunt, laughing when you shudder. She laps at your cunt and peers up at you from beneath dark bangs and even darker lashes, a knife's point of winged eyeliner making the golden hazel eyes shine. You’ve got the devil on her knees eating you out. Casually. Life unwarrantedly signed away sucks but hey, there’s at least cumming on the tongue of the most powerful demon since ever?
- soon you’re crying out and tugging at her hair and coming against her mouth, gushing around her cheeks and chin. She works you through your orgasm and the over sensitivity. And another venture through orgasm. And two additional upon that, her claiming that oral is just foreplay while she sucks your skin clean as she licks up all the aftermath of you squirting from between your thighs, nipping occasionally with tender teeth.
- she hushes your whines with hands that smooth over your belly and heated skin, calming you down until she rises and her tall form cages you in where you sit perched on the vanity.
- “calm down, angel,” she starts, tucking stray hair back into place and cupping your warm cheeks in her palms, smoothing thumbs across your cheekbones with care. She shifts, reaching to grasp your chin between your fingers as her hand wraps at an angle around your neck, “now, can I play with you for a little longer?”
- Regret was not something you had a lot of, but there was not any present in your response. Especially since you had never said yes so fast in your life. The demon laughs before pressing her lips to yours, murmuring beneath her breath in airy huffs of air that grace your teeth and tongue as hers meet yours in the middle, "welcome then, my little Persephone."
— Happy Halloween —
Tags: @mrsbretthand @mollicutes @radioactivebowtie @cognitosclowns @bluebaronness @carnalcringe
#inside job#my inside job#personal inside job#Halloween smut#JR Scheimpough x reader#gigi thompson x reader#glenn dolphman x reader#sona x reader#x afab reader#x gn reader#jr x reader#gigi x reader#Glenn x reader#delaney x reader#inside job imagine#jr scheimpough#Glenn Dolphman#gigi thompson#delaney Whitmore#inside job headcanon#my thots#Halloween
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Sooo I had to write something when Laura made it canon that Imogen has seen Jester’s bug. This is pretty bleak in the beginning but Laudna makes everything better in the second part I promise 🖤
Suddenly she isn’t lying on the couch staring at her fingers - her mind explodes into the memory of standing beneath the darkened canopy of the stable eaves, magic bursting purple and white out of her fingertips in a terrible flash. With a wave of revulsion, Imogen feels the ripple of energy coursing through her fingertips, illuminating those lightning streaks into iridescent purple as they glow and lightning erupts from her. The bright light puts the silhouettes of the townsfolk into stark contrast with the rapidly sinking sun behind them, suspicion and anger etched on their hardened faces. Another flash: she sees the look of pain and resignation plastered across her father’s face, feels the wave of disappointment, of hurt. The suffocating thoughts of history repeating billow off him like storm clouds, battering Imogen’s consciousness with their intensity and anguish, threatening to bowl her over. Another flash, and in her mind’s eye, she sees him shake his head slowly. Another flash, and he turns his back, disappearing into the night to trudge back through the fields towards the empty farmhouse. Defeated. Alone.
And through it all, Imogen’s fingers shine with that spectral purple glow.
She jolts back to consciousness with a quiet whimper. That damned sofa is still scraping against her skin as she draws in a shaky breath.
Must have fallen asleep again, Imogen thinks to herself. She tries to ignore the tears that slide silently from between her clenched eyelids, hot and wet and stinging as they spill over the bridge of her nose and splash into the scratchy fabric below her.
Need to stop doing that. Drifting off.
Still.
What else is there to do?
She isn’t sure which is worse, at the moment. The disturbing dreams of red dust that sneak in at night; the feeling of panic and loss of control as the wind picks up and threatens to whisk her away. Or the crippling, yawning numbness she feels during the day - especially when Laudna is away.
Imogen is pulled unceremoniously back into her body by a faint tickle across her forehead. She is torn from her dark reverie with a jolt: her eyelid flinches instinctively, and she realises the tickling is caused by the legs of a tiny insect across her cheek. She swats at it half-heartedly, too slow to catch it but stirring the air enough that it takes flight. The buzz of tiny wings permeates the air and Imogen flinches again, irritated. Her eyes track its flight path from where she still lies, horizontal, to where it lands on the dilapidated staircase a few feet away. Iridescent wings fold neatly on its back and it begins its trek, skirting along the grain of the partially rotted wood. Imogen realises it is carrying something on its back: a crumb of bread from the meagre meal they’d had the night before, clenched precariously between two microscopic front legs. It clambers along the horizontal before pausing, readjusting its vice grip before hauling itself vertically up the step. It continues, painfully slowly, but relentless.
Imogen stares, unable to take her eyes off it. The crumb is bigger than the length of its body, but it persists, heaving it up and along and up and along.
What are you doing? You’ve got wings, you dumbass. Why don’t you just fly up?
It takes Imogen a moment to register that she’s reached out instinctively with her mind. Blearily, she realises it doesn’t have enough of a consciousness to answer her.
Oh. I’m talkin’ to a bug.
Great.
She drifts.
———
The happy part is on AO3 ☺️
#critical role#imodna#imogen temult#laudna#laura bailey#marisha ray#imodna fic#whumptober#I guess#hurt/comfort
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hi everyone! it's been a while & finally i'm making my comeback. work has finally left me some room to breathe so i'll be reappearing on your dash and hopefully getting back into the swing of replies. down below there's a full list of everything currently in my drafts. please let me know whether you'd like to continue or drop these threads. whichever scenario is completely fine and understandable (it's been a hot sec after all), just let me know. if you'd prefer to start something new, we can also do that. feel free to message me or reply to this post anytime. there's no rush at all to make up your mind, but just to start off i'll start with replies for threads people do actively express interest in. so if anything from this list is something you're still excited about, let me know and i'll prioritize. we can always waitlist the other stuff while we feel it out. anyway, let me know, come chat, let me love u down and can't wait to continue writing together. love u all! 💗🥹
with @persephonyed.
carlos x lorenzo
marley x camille
with @silvrmoon.
nadiye x milo
axel x kadri
zehra x sierra
with @lilacwiine.
drew x felice
amara x maya
with @invcntions.
alec x lucas
mateo x saxon
devrim x leo
beau x koa
emre x noah
luca x jaiden (smth new?)
jesse x finn
peyton x vance
soren x lincoln
with @horrorphase.
dominic x percy
milan x kendall
with @slumpcd.
max x theo
kendall x nolan
jinny x gwen
with @gcldcnhour.
eden x mathias
rhys x bodie
isabel x tate
alina x priya
zoe x knox
ethan x violet
marisol x miriam
with @temptedfates.
emmett x aydin
noor x solana
with @spectraled.
maddie x rory
tbd x dallas (thought abt replying if u would like replies <3)
with @vacationeyes.
marco x conrad
julian x callum
emre x frankie
xavier x tyson
jude x forest
with @lovecharged.
jonas x antonio
aleksei x drake
bridie x quilo
tbd x amie
jonas x antonio (part two)
julian x zayn
felix x robin
nadiye x rasim
tatum x uziah
carlos x gabriel
with @fruitpoem.
ambar x joel
with @inkiidreams.
aera x selin
davika x esra
carlos x mallory
merve x yaritza
robin x aurelia
lais x nova
casper x knox
lachlan x olivia
with @wutheringdevotion.
lachlan x oliver
rowan x ginny
connor x evan
meera x monique
carlos x gabriel
gwen x jonah
margot x adrian
with @gardenwalls.
meera x paloma
alec x mack
naiyana x nadine
daniel x minako
laura x andrea
fabien x mei li
nazli x rhys
with @felteverywhere.
alina x rowan
with @sunstvne.
santiago x constantin
with @gvngsigns.
gabriela x lucas
kai x mateo
florence x liam
tobias x zuri
andrea x cruz
ricardo x vincent
with @scbrvght.
all of our formula one threads (don't think i owe u the replies but let me know if you'd like to continue them <3)
lale x finley
soren x everly
mAYBE im missing things. if there's anything i owe you that isn't on this list, feel free to point it out to me! and also vice versa, if you owe me something & you want to discuss continuing or dropping it, just come message me and we can chat about it!
#this literally took forever but <3#just don't wanna drop the current things if people are still interested#because i genuinely love these pairings?#so please don't hesitate to tell me if you'd like to continue certain threads because then they'll be prioritized!
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EN Changes Compilation Master List: Events
・Beanfest 1 and 2
Badges, vice housewardens, kebabs and more.
・EN vs. JP: Fairy Gala
Sweet merciful seven, "barf," eggs and more.
・EN vs JP: Phantom Bride
Slender, pronouns, "18 years old" and more.
・EN vs. JP: Wish Upon a Star
Tanabata, high school, "boys in particular" and the Shaftlands.
・EN vs JP: Terror is Trending
"Cay-Cay's gotchu," "-sama," "master" and "cui-cui."
・EN vs JP: Firelit Sky
Servants, cute, and dokkan-senpai.
・EN vs JP: Spectral Soiree
Plurals, perverts, eggs, landlocked, elephant ears and more.
・EN vs JP: Harveston
Apples, accents, honorifics, baby rabbit and seven dwarves
・EN vs JP: Port Fest
Sorcents and Stomp
・EN vs JP: Glorious Masquerade
Sensei, humans, eggs, Smoldering Desire, lyrics and more.
・Glorious Masquerade vignettes
"Imagination"
・White Rabbit Fes
Sixteen, time, scythes, bread and "aniki."
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