#ghost!​charles blackwood

[buckrecs]

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙤𝙤𝙙

masterlist | s.s characters masterlist

ONESHOT

Deflowering in the Garden by @sableseb

Charles has a taste for the finer things in life. But, the finest wines, the finest art, and the finest suits have nothing on the pretty little thing he spots from across the lawn. She’s in a floral dress that falls just above the knee. Hair down and messed around her soft features from the wind that seems to have picked up from the moment he laid his eyes on her. 

Boys in Bed with Books 3 by @jobean12-blog

You try on something new and want to show Charles. 

plastic smile by @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

Charles comes to town and you both fall for each other quickly.

acting like that by @/sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

You see Charles at a party flirting with another woman.

figured you out by @/sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

Charles comes home to find you in the hands of your bodyguard Chris.

Easily Repaired by @navybrat817

Convinced that Charles is cheating on you, you damage his precious car. When you realize your mistake, he decides to teach you a lesson.

the girl in the diner by @starbuckie

Dust To Dust by @boxofbonesfic

Your dream job turns out to be more of a nightmare.

SERIES

Like a Dream by @/jobean12-blog

Charles takes you to Italy.

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝕲𝖔 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖉

𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚎�� 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜 𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚡𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.

Relationship: Charles Blackwood x female!reader

Words: ~1.4k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!! explicit language, explicit sexual content (non-con, public sex, unprotected vaginal sex, marking), horror elements, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: my muse is awake and thriving?! Anyway, enjoy the creepy ghost sex, y’all. More monsters to come

You smiled as your maid of honor helped you do up the last of the buttons on your grandmother’s wedding gown, turning when she was finished and basking in the “oohs” and “ahs” of your bridal party. Everything was so perfect. The manor was beautiful and it really was the vintage wedding of your dreams.

But something still felt off. An occasional shiver would travel up your spine and you felt as though you were being watched. No matter how much you told yourself it was nothing, the feeling wouldn’t go away, causing you to look over your shoulder and your smile to falter. You thought you saw something out of the corner of your eye and tried to move your head quickly to get a better look, but whatever it was was gone.

Charles was enjoying setting you so on edge. Ever since you first came to his manor, his home, trying to decide if this was where you wanted to celebrate your love for your nothing of a fiancé, he had wanted you. You looked exactly like her, especially now that you were wearing her dress, and since he couldn’t have her when he was alive, maybe now he could have you while he was dead. In fact, there were quite a few things he could do whilst dead that he never would have dreamed of while he was alive.

Emboldened by the fact that neither you nor any of your bridesmaids could see him, Charles glided forward, ignoring the other women and focusing all his attention on you. When you shivered at his proximity he grinned wickedly, eager to see what other reactions he might be able to elicit from you.

The feeling of an ice cold finger dragging down the side of your neck made you gasp, your bridesmaids asking you what was wrong and only shrugging when you said it was nothing. You must have been going crazy, that was the only explanation for this. All of a sudden the finger turned into a hand that was gripping and massaging your breast, making you gasp again but only able to offer your bridesmaids a shake of your head when they inquired about your wellbeing. A second hand joined the first in fondling your breasts and you whimpered under your breath, swearing that you heard a lascivious groan in your ear and the chilly breath of some eerie presence on the back of your neck.

You suddenly realized that whatever was happening to you, it was making you wet, so wet you were worried about it soaking through your panties and staining your dress. Fortunately it was time for the procession, so you stood up to make your way to the hall where your ceremony would be taking place. Your hope that perhaps these odd sensations would cease once you left the bridal suite was quickly dashed, one of the freezing hands moving from groping your breasts to squeezing your ass. It was all you could do not to start crying, confusion and arousal making your head feel fuzzy as you stumbled after your bridal party and tried to keep your smile on your face.

Charles had never felt so elated in either life or death. He knew he was torturing you, but he didn’t care, groaning again when he smelled your pussy getting wetter and wetter. You were so soft and warm under his dead hands, your body more responsive than he could have ever dreamed. When he felt your nipple hardening under his fingers he gave it a pinch, tugging on it gently and chuckling again when you whined and squirmed for him.

It took everything in him not to grow even more bold before you had reached the hall. For everything he wanted to do to you, he also wanted an audience. The doors opened and he waited alongside you, his cock throbbing when he smelled your neck as your bridesmaids made their way down the aisle.

When you spotted your fiancé you finally forgot about all the strange things that had been happening to you for just a moment, smiling at how handsome he looked and beginning to make your way towards him so you could be joined as man and wife. Then you heard a tearing sound, and all the beautiful antique buttons that had decorated the back of your grandmother’s wedding dress scattered around you while everyone in attendance gasped. Suddenly you were on the floor and screaming, trying to bat away invisible hands as they tore at your ruined gown and delicate lingerie until your breasts were exposed to everyone in attendance.

They were all frozen, horror gripping them and keeping them from helping you as you pleaded and begged for whatever was happening to you to stop. Something was between your legs and your screams became even more frantic, your body thrashing wildly even as you were pinned down by some invisible force. It was pushing your skirt up your legs and you wailed, choking on your tongue when your cry was suddenly muffled by what felt like a freezing cold pair of lips. The utter shock allowed for your panties to be ripped off and discarded, and then your ghostly assailant was inside you.

Your cunt was so tight and warm Charles almost came on the spot. Instead he just roared with pleasure, a sound that every living being in attendance heard and was made to cower. He didn’t care about them, though, except for the fact that he wanted them to watch him fuck you into oblivion. Bruises were already raising on your breasts and the insides of your thighs from the brutality of his assault on you, and that just made him fuck into you even harder, ramming his cock as deep as it would go and grinding against your clit so you knew that he was giving you pleasure that you had never thought existed.

He reveled in the knowledge that your fiancé had a perfect view of your pussy stretched wide open around his invisible cock, loving that the poor man could see every ripple and flutter of your internal muscles when his violent movements wrenched an orgasm from your tormented body without warning. You even squirted everywhere, making a mess that Charles would have licked up if he still had the ability. For now he just settled for kissing you again as he continued to fuck you, swallowing your sobs and whimpers as your body quivered underneath him.

You had never felt more miserable or humiliated in your entire life. Every member of your family and all of your friends were witnessing you being assaulted by some spectral being and still your body betrayed you again and again. When your second orgasm took you you had to shut your eyes, silently praying that this was a nightmare and that soon you would wake up. But you knew it was futile. This was impossible, but it was real.

How could you ever look your fiancé in the eyes again? Knowing that he had seen you so utterly debased and used. And the man did nothing to stop it, just stood there and watched as pleasure was wrung out of your helpless body. It made you almost hate him even though all you wanted was for him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be alright. You knew it never would, though, not when every important person in your life had to watch you be completely and utterly degraded for the amusement of some spirit.

After your fourth orgasm Charles couldn’t hold back any longer, looking over his shoulder and laughing at the look of horror on your fiancé’s face as he started to pump his cum inside you. He knew how strange it must feel, so cold and thick as it coated your inner walls. And it would always stay with you, that small piece of him like a piece of ice that was piercing your heart and sticking to the most intimate part of you. As soon as he was finished he withdrew, sighing as he floated towards the ceiling and ignoring the sounds of your wretched cries as everyone suddenly broke from their terrified spell and rushed to your aid. He had finally gotten everything that he wanted, and he knew that you would never forget him.

[georgiapeach30513]

Misguided Ghosts, Part 7

Summary:  It’s time for little Rosewyn Penelope Jensen

Pairings:  Jake Jensen X Reader, Jake Jensen X Charles Blackwood

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  language, childbirth, mentions of going mad, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Strawberries.  It’s all your little Rosewyn wanted to eat.  Strawberry anything.  Jake had made sure that there was a fresh stock of strawberry ice cream, strawberry yogurt, strawberry lollipops, strawberry wafers, strawberry Kit Kats, strawberry jam, strawberry preserves, and of course all the strawberries you could want.  Varying different sizes, and colors, and something called pine berries that definitely looked like pink strawberries to you.  Rosewyn Penelope loved those the most.

You stop your cutting of the pine berries to rub over your belly, “You better quit it,” you warn her.  “I know you want a bite to eat, but if you don’t stop hurting mommy, you’re not getting anything,” your little angel quits kicking for a moment, and you pop one of the pink berries into your mouth.

“I’m making a strawberry, er, pine berry pie for us for tonight’s dessert.  We’ll have some whipped cream, and…oh,” you grab at your stomach again, “Rosewyn, darling, please, the oven is nearly preheated.”

She won’t talk to you, ya know? Charles rolls his eyes, but still watches you curiously.  There was a beauty to the way you moved around with just you and your bump.  You loved the thought of being pregnant.  Adored her already.  I just don’t understand why you do the things you do.  Even when she comes out of you, she’ll be dumb.

Your head perks up, and you turn to look behind you, staring directly at Charles who freezes.  Did you hear me?  Rosewyn, I apologize, but babies are dumb.

Taking a deep breath, because you felt yourself going crazy in this house.  You swore you heard something.  You start humming Brahms lullaby, ignoring whatever it was you heard.  You have heard more voices since being pregnant.  More reason to think you and Jake weren’t alone.  That portrait had to go.  You didn’t care if it was burned or taken to a museum, he had to go.  

“Ugh,” you squeeze at your stomach again, slamming the knife on the counter, “Little lady if you don’t…oh shit,” trickles of liquid start drifting down your leg, and your lip starts to tremble.  “J-J-Jake,” you squeak out, knowing that there was no way that he heard that.  “Shit, ahh!” Crumpling up from the pain that lights up your body.

Charles stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, about to curse you for peeing on the floor.  Oh shit! Your water broke.

“I’m seriously going crazy.  Ahh!” You scream, starting to sink to the floor.

Jake!  Jacob Jensen! Charles jumps from the counter, ready to find your boyfriend who was still sleeping away.

“I wanted to surprise, daddy!” You cry out, getting upset that the pie was most definitely put on hold.  “Rosewyn, you love the pink strawberries.”

“Jake!” Charles materializes, starting to shake Jake awake.  “Jacob!”

“Only my mother calls me that,” he mumbles, flopping over on the other side.  “Go away.  I’m mad at you.”

“Be mad, but,” he didn’t have to say anything when you scream again, and Jake jolts awake on the bed.  “Yeah, she’s in labor.”

“You could have said something.  Damn…how long?”

“That mucus plug you two were talking about is in my kitchen.”

“Really?  You’re going to complain about something like that?” Jake asks, grabbing at his glasses.  “These are dirty.”

“Jake!  Jake, I think the baby is coming!”

“Damn.  Shit!  Fuck!  Asshole,” he points a finger at Charles.  “I’m putting clothes on!  Uh,” Jake didn’t have time to think as he grabs up what he wore yesterday, and Charles turns up his nose, “I’ve got clothes in the bag beside the door…did I put it beside the door?  Is it in the car?  In the closet?”

“That monstrosity of yours, hers, and my daughter’s clothes is beside the door.  You tripped over it, remember?  Because it’s too big.  Why do you need so many things?” Jake nods his head, slipping on some boots, without tying them.  “Wait?”

“A baby is going to be coming out of my girlfriend, and you’re asking me to wait?  Seriously?  Timing, dude.”

“I’m not your dude.  I just…” Jake’s eyes go wide, urging Charles to hurry with whatever he was wanting to ask, “Can I try and enter your body, and leave?  There is a strong possibility she’s mine or at least both of ours.  I want to be there.”

“Huh?”

“I know I’m an ass.”

“Yeah, threatening us.  That’s my girlfriend, and my daughter, and you…you’re a meanie.”

“Jake!  Hurry!”

“But I did help you land your girl, I should be there.  I want to be there, and it might not even work,” staring with an irritated face, Jake holds his hands open wide, lifting his head to the ceiling.  “Is this an invitation?”

“Are you a vampire?  You have my permission to enter my body.”

“Jake!” You growl as Charles steps into Jake’s body, and Jake runs down the stairs, and into the kitchen where you were doubled over, trying to breathe steadily.  “What.  The.  Hell.  Took you so long?”

“I was…breathing?” You look up at him, and if looks could kill, Jake would be as dead as Charles.  “I’m sorry, I’m kind of a…new man right now, and…wow, honey, you were making us a pine berry pie?  Rosewyn would have been so happy.”

“Rosewyn is clawing her way out of my vagina.”

“Really?” He quips; his voice going up an octave.

“No, not really.  But your daughter is also…ugh…” your eyes roll into the back of your head, as you grunt through the contraction.  “She’s impatient Jake…can we?”

“Yeah, right.  Right…oh can I look?” Your head jerks up to look at him so fast, and you curl your lip up at him.  “Like, am I allowed to look when she’s playing peek-a-boo with your vagina?”

“Are you going to fuck me again?” You ask, directing Jake to walk you out the door.

Why would you want to see that?

“I like seeing your cunt stretched out,” he shrugs.

I worry about you.  This is weird.

“It’s not weird.  It’s beautiful.  Sometimes it’s sexual, but this is beautiful.  Our daughter is going to be squeezing out of your vagina.  Yes, I’ll continue to have sex with you, Giggles, I’ve wanted this since we became friends.”

“You have?” You sweetly ask, stopping just to look up at him.  He nods, smiling and gives you a kiss, “Jake, we’re about to be….ah!  We gotta go.  Let’s go.”

“Wish us luck,” Jake mumbles, hoping that he doesn’t feel Charles get jerked out of his body after he walks out of the house.  Or leaves the property.  Or…Jake wasn’t exactly sure where Charles was going to be cut off.  He was thankful that for once Charles was quiet.  Letting Jake fully be present with you.

He tries to flip his eyes to the back of his head, wondering if he could spy Charles.  Would he know if he was still even with him?  Would Rosewyn pop out of your body, and she glowed like how Charles sometimes did?  He was starting to worry.  He had too many questions.

“Yes!” Charles screams through Jake’s voice, and both you and Jake jolt at the scream.  You turn to look at him confused, as he straightens the car back out.

Sorry. ��Just thought I’d let you know, I’m still very much present.  And I wasn’t poofed back into my chair.  Is it because that really is my daughter and I’m able to be with her.

Could you enter into the baby?

What?

“Well, wouldn’t it be neat to feel birth as a baby, but you were conscious as an adult,” trying to breathe through another contraction, you glare at Jake.  “I mean, imagine seeing the vagina from the inside out.”

“Our baby is not interested in my vagina, Jake!”

“Oh,” he sheepishly says, apologizing to you.  “I’m going to drive a bit faster.”

You’re an idiot.  I’m not going to enter into the baby.  It’s gross.  The only part of me I want in her pussy is my fingers, my tongue, or my fat cock.

Or just use me to fuck her while she’s awake.

Are you ever going to tell her?

Are you?

Both men sit quietly, and Jake offers his hand over to you, and you grab it immediately.  Squeezing the life out of his hand, while he grimaces.  He didn’t even know what pain was.  Didn’t know that you were enduring this for your precious angel.

Is she going to glow?

Who?

The baby.  Let’s say the baby is in fact yours or at least a mix of us, will she glow?

I have no clue.  I’ve never done this or even know if it’s possible.  I saw her looking like a fucking goddess and she was flirting with my portrait, and I wanted to fuck her.  Mid fuck I got the bright idea of knocking her up, and then YOU came into the picture.  You were never meant to be there.

But…you have no idea what you’re doing?  What if there’s like ghost STIs or…

I don’t have a disease!  My cock is clean.

But…you just…you don’t know what you’re doing, and you’re testing out a theory.

That’s how all good scientists do their research.

Are you a scientist?

No.

I hate you.

I abhor you as well.

“Jake!  Slow down, there’s the entrance to the damn hospital!  Jake, are you freaking out because you’re about to be a dad?” You were starting to get worried.  He was so distracted.  It was weird, and made you nervous.

No, he’s just having a conversation with me in his head.  Maybe I’m not even really here.  Maybe you have descended into madness, and this is all a figment of your imagination.

“I’m so happy about being parents, and more happy because it’s with you.  Our Rosewyn Penelope Jensen is going to be so spoiled,” and I hate you!

Ehh, I do think you really have gone mad.

“Oh, she’s…she’s giving birth right now,” the doctor lifts up your blanket, giving an awkward laugh up to you and Jake.  “You weren’t lying dad.  Look,” he smiles back at a nurse pointing towards you, “Hair.”

“Could you maybe fucking deliver our baby?”

“No need to cuss dad.  We gotta wait on a contraction.  Yep.  There it is,” you hated this place.  The doctor was a fucking weirdo.  The nurses even looked at him like he was a pariah in his own hospital.  They were disgusted by the way he was acting.  “Dad, you want to watch?”

You give him a head nod as he steps down to you.  His eyebrows go to the top of his head, and he looks back up with an awkward grin, “You feel that?”

“I feel everything,” you groan, pushing again.  “Is she out yet?” You pant, getting a moment of rest while you wait.  And here comes another one.

“She’s…uh, that’s my baby’s head.  Oh!  Giggles, keep going, baby.  Keep…oh,” he looks up at you confused.  And then back down to the doctor fully pulling Rosewyn out of you.

“She’s not crying.  Jake, why isn’t crying?  Is there something wrong with my baby,” the tears of pain were now worried cries, but then you see her fingers start to bend, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“She’s breathing,” Charles makes Jake turn to glare at the doctor.  He had kept his eyes closed inside of Jake.  He didn’t need to see you pushing out a baby.  But then the doctor brought up the fact she was breathing.  She looked a little blue to him.  Blue meant ghostling.  He was sure of that.  “She’s just…she’s very calm.  Rosewyn.”

“Don’t you pinch my baby!” Jake screams at him, ready to grab the baby and hold her close to his chest.

“I squeezed her arm,” he gives Jake a shrug, and looks over at you, “Overprotective dad, am I right?  So…you guys live at Blackwood Manor?”

“It’s a castle!” Charles shouts through Jake, and Jake retches.  

Man stop doing that.  It’s making me sick.

“Yeah…so is that where you two live?”

“Can you give me my baby!” What was wrong with this man?  You just wanted to hold your daughter, and he was asking about where you lived.  “Once I have her, then we can discuss my place of living.”

“Doctor, the baby, she needs her mom,” a nurse looks between you and the doctor.  “The mother and baby need each other.”

“Oh, yeah.  Won’t have to pinch her anymore.  You got a, um,” he stops talking long enough for the nurse to get you situated.  “Yeah, uh…my mom always told me that my dad was the illegitimate son of Charles Blackwood.”

What did he just say?

“For real?  Like, you’ve got Blackwood blood in you?  That creepy…handsome portrait of Charles is in our formal living room,” you couldn’t stop staring at this precious baby.  Her eyes blink up at you, and you can't stop your tears.  She was perfect.  So soft, so beautiful, and she was yours and Jake’s.

“That’s the rumor.  Oh, here comes the after birth.”

Please, don’t watch that.

I’m going to watch my baby.

“Jake,” you whine, picking up your daughter who was wide eyed and sight looking around the room.  “She never cries.  Have you heard her cry?”

“No.”

Because she’s a ghostling.  You see a bit of blue in her skin color?  Haunting blue.

“She’s fine,” he squeaks, reaching out to hold her.  “Are you sleeping?”

“No,” you admit.  You couldn’t relax.  “I’m afraid that she’ll starve to death.  Am I nursing her too much?  And then I think she’s always got a dirty diaper, but she just doesn’t cry.  She doesn’t whine, doesn’t make a peep.  And…something is wrong.  Rosewyn, won’t you cry for mommy?”

Oh, my god, Charles rolls his eyes.  He walks over to Jake, leaning over Rosewyn, and she sneezes.  Looking directly at him, before her mouth turns up into a smile.  Most parents would kill to be in your position.  A baby that never cries sounds like a walk in the park.  And she smiles at me.

“I just feel that there’s something wrong with her.”

“She doesn't look blue,” Jake says too loudly.  “She’s perfect.  Look at her.  She’s a little princess.  No!  A little angel.”

A little ghost.

“A perfect little angel,” he repeats, pulling you over onto his arms.  “And I got the best girls in the world.”

And you're the best delusional step father I’ve ever met.  Have you figured out if I’m a ghost or if you’re just going crazy?  It’s kinda funny to get into your thoughts, replying to everything.  Maybe Jakey Jakey is a bit crazy?  Haha…you don’t even know what is real.

“She’s real, Giggles.  And she’s really ours.”

You’re going to pretend I don’t exist now aren’t you?  Have me in your thoughts for the rest of your life.  But ignore me.  Ignore my every word as you sink further into your darkness.  Your little blue tinted baby that’s really mine, saw me.  Do you even know what’s real anymore?  Are you even here?  Is she even here?  Have you created this reality because you couldn’t face the real one?  Weren’t you captured in war?  Can you be sure what’s real?

“I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted.  Right in my arms.”

Live in denial.  You and I both know what’s really going on here, don’t we?  

Don’t we?

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @sstan-hoe​ @infatuatedharleys​ @peaches1958​ @pono-pura-vida​ @feyfantome​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @seitmai​ @stronginawayjbb​ @smile1318​ @avengersalways​ @toozmanykids​ @elrw24​ @lavender-annd-lilac​ @xcaptain-winterx​ @redbloodedgurl​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @bambamwolf87​ @cjand10​

[ladyswartzrot]

“My niece Mary Katherine has been a long time dead, young man. She did not survive the loss of her family; I supposed you knew that.”

- Uncle Julian

We have always lived in the castle - Shirley Jackson

This would explain everything honestly...

[theinheriteddutchess]

Aaahhh, great but scary!

The hand coming out😬 but at least he's not intending to hurt her... Is he?

A prompt for you if it sparks interest…

One night in a haunted house can bring you wealth behind your means.

But beware of the alleged monster that lurks inside the estate… legend has it if you whisper his name, he may materialize in front of your eyes.

Good luck trying not to say Charles Blackwood. The name seems to roll right off the tongue…

Title: dust to dust

Wordcount: 1,334

Summary: Your dream job turns out to be more of a nightmare.

A/N: 👀 @syntheticavenger came in with the horror prompt, so i had to deliver 😮‍💨 i hope you all enjoy my latest Monkey’s Paw drabble.

“And you’re sure you’re fine there alone? That place gets pretty fucking creepy at night,” Came Amelia’s voice through the phone. You laughed, shaking your head even though she couldn’t see you. “I’m serious! I think it’s totally haunted.” 

 “You say that about every house we work in. It can’t always be true.” You heard your friend scoff through the receiver. “And I’ll be fine. It’s not my first rodeo.“ It was true—this wouldn’t be the first portrait you’d restored. And even if the Blackwood family manor was as creepy as Amelia said it was, you’d only be there for a few hours, max. “You just focus on your end of the deal, finding someone to fucking buy this thing after I’m done with it.” 

 She clucked at you through the phone, her irritated huffs the backdrop to the picturesque countryside rolling alongside the car. 

 “Fine! I’m just saying. It’s creepy.”

 “Creepy, yes. Haunted? Hard no,” you laughed. “Besides, the faster we’re finished, the faster we get that sweet, sweet Blackwood cash.” 

 “Is payday all you ever think about?”

 “When it’s enough to skate for an entire year while I figure out my artist’s residency? Christ, yes.” 

 The construction team was still working on the house’s exterior when you pulled in, despite the light drizzle. One of the guys tipped his yellow hard hat to you as you parked out front, a lit cigarette hanging from between his lips. 

 “Just you today?” He called as you exited the car, wrapping your scarf tighter around your shoulders. “Where’s the little one?” You bit back a laugh, knowing Amelia would bristle at her unofficial nickname—even if it was accurate.  

 “Yeah, just me, Martin. Doors unlocked?” You asked, taking the slick steps two at a time as you shouldered your canvas bag of paints and brushes. He nodded, making a noise of assent in the back of his throat before turning back to the scaffolding. The project was taking longer than anticipated, you could tell by the doubled workforce outside. You knew the owner was eager to sell, too—the asking price had dropped two times already. 

 The inside of the manor was bustling with activity too, and you sidestepped a pair of men carrying a ladder. You ducked quickly into the overlarge drawing room, settling against the closed door with a deep sigh. 

 Finally. The thought rolled in like low static, barely discernible from the rest of the noise in your head. 

 So low, you don’t recognize it isn’t yours. 

 Despite the activity outside, the sitting room was eerily silent, but you liked it that way—no distractions. You undraped the portrait of one of the Blackwoods—long dead now—and his blue eyes stared out gloomily at you from the canvas. You began pulling your supplies from your bag, laying them on the table beside your easel. You’d already done the surface cleaning on the old oil painting days ago, going slowly across each inch of canvas as though you were caressing a lover’s skin.

 The oil paint wasn’t damaged from age, though it was old—maybe fifty, sixty years. What had damaged it was smoke—smoke from the fire that had destroyed this place. 

 How astute. You’re a bright little thing, aren’t you pet?

 The portrait wasn’t large, maybe two and a half by three feet at most, but it was valuable, the old Blackwood matriarch had told you, and rather sternly at that. You mixed your colors carefully, testing them before beginning to apply them to the canvas. It was mostly the right side that had been damaged, the paint curling and blackened with soot that no one dared wipe away for fear of doing further harm. 

 You painted with slow, delicate strokes, uncaring of the hours ticking by as the house quieted around you. 

 Keep going. You were determined to finish, a fire lit inside of you as you dragged your brush across the canvas. You’re almost there. Almost done. You’d had projects like this before; intense time constraints, picky and demanding clients—but this time was different. Like you’d dug so deep that you’d breached someone else’s drive instead of just your own. 

 So close, now…

 When you stepped away from the easel, hours had passed, and your phone, which had been silenced, blinked angrily at you from the chair by the door. The  painting would need a few finishing touches, but for the most part, it was done. 

 You wiped a hand across your sweaty cheek, noting with a frown that your hand came away streaked with paint. The sun was beginning to set, and as you opened the door to the sitting room, you found the hallway empty. Another glance at your brightly lit phone screen told you it was a bit past seven, and the sky outside the windows was tinged pink with the setting sun. 

 “Hello?” Your own voice seemed to dissipate in the evening air, not carrying far. “Martin? Ozzie?” 

 They all left…

 It was strange of them to leave and not lock up, to leave the tools unattended and the manor’s thick oak double doors wide open. You padded to the entrance, poking your head outside. Sure enough, the work vans were gone, the plastic sheeting hanging from the scaffolding flapping gently in the breeze. 

 I should go too. 

 You returned inside, quickly gathering your paint and brushes. It was summer, but the recent rain had left the air chilly and damp, and you shuddered as you shoved your supplies hurriedly into your bag. You turned to leave, sparing one last glance at the canvas. 

 Wait, is he…smiling? Your chest tightened as you stared at the easel. Was he… always smiling? The paint shifted on the canvas like a living thing, the colors flowing over one another like water as ever so slowly, the man on the canvas drew his tongue across his lips. 

 Hello, beautiful.

 Something warm and wet dripped down from your left nostril onto your lip, and when you licked at it absently, hot copper bloomed on your tongue. He had been sitting, scowling, but now he stood, staring out at you from the painting like he could really see you. 

 Say my name, beautiful. Let me out. His voice vibrated painfully in your skull, and you whimpered, clapping your hands uselessly to your ears as though it would shut him out. You made for the door, but the pressure of his words made your eyes roll as you sank to your knees. 

 “I don’t—I don’t know it,” you babbled, tears leaking from your closed eyes. 

 Yes you do. You’ve known it this whole time, his voice was like black honey. Say it. His face was pressed up against the canvas like he was looking out a window. You shook your head, and his voice became breaking glass, became mountains crumbling and thunder booming—

 SAY IT.

 Blood trickled from your nose as you convulsed on the old carpet. 

 “C-Charles B-B-Bla-ackwood.” You could taste more blood on your tongue as the pressure in your skull receded. You were wrung out and limp, watching helplessly as a skeletal hand extended out of the canvas, curling around the frame as Charles Blackwood pulled himself free. You knew you weren’t meant to see it, the man crawling out of the painting like a corpse from an old grave, the flesh winding back up his bony fingers until they looked pink and new. 

 Charles straightened his suit jacket as you stared up at him, your eyes red and watery. He squatted down in front of you, clucking as he brushed sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

 “Don’t fret, beautiful,” he swiped his thumb through the trail of red beneath your nose and popped it into his mouth. “We’ll have you feeling right as rain in no time.” His eyes swept down your trembling form, and the smile that spread across his lips sent ice shooting through your veins. 

“I think you’ll like your new home.” 

 fin

[barnbridges]

the real castle/tsh discourse in my head is always, is it camilla or marion who is a stand in for constance

[werezolft]

The Dead Boy Detectives (and crew), have been occupying my thoughts the past few weeks. I’ve watched the show on repeat, rewatched Sandman, actually started reading the Sandman graphic novels (currently on Seasons of Mist, the introduction of the Dead Boys), and I’ve started drawing the episodes in the style of old teen detective novels.

I started these before getting super into behind the scenes details. I went down a bit of a rabbit-hole last night, and was delighted to learn that show-runner Steve Yockey wanted the show to be reminiscent of The Hardy Boys, one of the main influences of these covers.

The accuracy of their depictions varies, I don’t think they always really look like themselves. But I had a lot of fun.

I hope to continue designing these for a bit while the obsession holds, and maybe I can properly bring in purples, Crystal’s hero color.

[Alt Text:

Image 1: A series of covers on a white background. From left to right, "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine", "The Case Of Devlin House", "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine" (alt cover), "The Case Of The Hungry Snake", and "The Case Of The Lighthouse Leapers".

Image 2: Three teenagers, Charles, Crystal and Edwin explore a blue green cave with a skull covered in dandelions on a center shrine. Charles holds a flashlight, Crystal is climbing in while her eyes have gone white during a psychic episode, and Edwin is playing lookout. At the top of the page in yellow italics is the text “Dead Boy Detectives” and below in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 3: Edwin, Charles and Crystal peering around the corner of a yellow-green wooden hallway, looking at the silhouette of a man swinging an axe. They have varying worried expressions. At the top, in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF DEVLIN HOUSE”.

Image 4: Crystal and Niko stare at each other across a green hallway. Niko has her left hand raised and is surrounded by glowing images, stars, hearts, moons, butterflies, rainbows, and sparkles. The cast a faint pink light. At the top in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives”, and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 5: Charles and Edwin tied to chairs in a golden yellow room. Charles has an iron collar chained to his neck, and his wrists are bound. Edwin is in a white tank top, and his mouth is gagged with a clothe. On the wall is the shadow of the witch Esther, with her cane. In the corner is a large cabinet, Niko peers out of. On top of the cabinet is perched a crow, Monty. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE HUNGRY SNAKE”.

Image 6: Edwin, Charles and Crystal stand on stairs overlooking the gray sea and red sky. A giant angler fish, Angie, is staring at them. In the corner, on top of the hill is a classic red and white striped lighthouse. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE LIGHTHOUSE LEAPERS”.

Image 7: A series of book covers on a white background: “Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators in The Secret of Skeleton Island”, “Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, The Ghost of Blackwood Hall”, “Nancy Drew, The Mystery at Lilac Inn”, “The Hardy Boys, While the Clock Ticked”, and “The Three Investigators in The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon”.

[strangestcase]

I’m trying to start reading gothic literature, but I don’t really know where to start. What books in the genre would you recommend?

Cracks knuckles.

Start off with a selection of Edgar Allan Poe short stories. There's a reason he's considered the best Gothic writer. Most if not all of his fiction falls squarely into the gothic genre, even his non-horror production. The more you read the better, but The Fall of the House of Usher is one of the best representatives of the Gothic you can find. Also check out his poetry and scientific essays, if you can, the guy was a real Renaissance man. He also wrote one novel, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, which, along with Lovecraft's In the Mountains of Madness and Cambell's Who goes there? aka The Thing From Another World constitutes some sort of "trilogy" (since each story was based on the one prior).

Then you can move on to other short story selections. Short stories are easier to read and digest, I think, and plenty of fun. I recommend the following authors:

J. Sheridan Le Fanu- Irish writer that took a page from Irish folklore and legends. Madam Crowl's Ghost is a favorite of mine.

R. Louis Stevenson- usually a children's author, Stevenson liked to merge genres and used pretty interesting concepts for his horror production.

Guy de Maupassant- he was commisioned to write, so he often recycled entire concepts and plots, leaving us with many different versions of the same story (and a lot of heavy-handed morals. god bless).

Charles Dickens- predictably enough, he specialized in ghost stories

M. R. James- James' short horror stories have some of the most interesting monster concepts I've ever read, from a haunted dollhouse that recreates the events of a real-life haunting, to a possessed pattern print.

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer- little man puts the "Dark Romanticism" in, well, Dark Romanticism. If you know Spanish, do yourself a favor and read his short stories untranslated.

Elizabeth Gaskell- wrote plenty of good horror stories, and often from a female perspective, which is always a treat.

Bram Stoker- his stuff is very hit or miss, but when he hits, he hits hard. Read The Judge's House for a very nasty ghost story and then toss Stoker into the garbage because everything else he wrote is either comically racist or just dumb.

And now as for specific must-read short stories:

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman- maybe the true monster was medical misogyny all along! (Obvious content warning for graphic medical abuse, misogyny, and domestic abuse.)

What was it? by Fritz O'Brien- short story in the vein of "hey wouldnt it be fucked up if this happened?" Don't read if you have sleep paralysis.

The Open Door by Margaret Oliphant- a missing child, a mysterious door, and forces beyond human comprehension.

The Empty House by Algernon Blackwood- would you spend a full night in a haunted house? (Very paranoia inducing, it's such a treat.)

The Ghostly Rental by Henry James- in which the "ghosts" aren't actually ghosts, but something far, far weirder and cooler.

The Monkey's Paw by W. W. Jacobs- this tear-wrenching and suspenseful little tale will forever remind you to be careful what you wish for...

The gothic literature "classics", as in, full lenght novels and short novellas, can be a bit difficult to read due to length. My personal recommendations are:

Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley- a foundational text of science fiction with a nestled narrative frame and themes of personal and social responsability, bodily autonomy, and freedom. Young alchemist Victor Frankenstein attempts to blur the line between life and death, and unwittlingly sets off his downfall in the process by creating a humanoid creature he can't control and won't respond to. CW child death, death by axphysiation, incest, description of unsanitary environments.

Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by R. Louis Stevenson- it is considered the first modern psychological horror story, and, while it's a mere sixty pages long, each and every one of them is packed with a dark revelation about tight-laced Victorian society. When his lifelong friend writes up a suspicious will leaving everything to a stranger, a lawyer decides to look into it, leading him down a spiral of discoveries all related to a disturbing experiment. CW suicide, graphic descriptions of violence, drug abuse.

Carmilla by J. Sheridan le Fanu- very much a classic vampire tale, with an interesting sapphic spin, in which the predatory lesbian trope bleeds, pun intended, into a twisted love story. Laura is a young girl who considers herself prim and proper, until the day the charming Carmilla stops by the family manor claiming to be her soulmate, sparking off a romance marked by a series of strange events. CW implied sexual assault, gore.

The Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde- I consider it an early attempt at daylight horror, and while the plot is mostly romantic drama (canonically bisexual romantic drama!), the descriptions make everything else worthwhile. Beautiful model Dorian Gray's life is changed when he befriends a cunning aristocrat, which prompts him to wish to remain young forever while his portrait ages in his place... and his wish is granted. CW extreme antisemitism, suicide, graphic descriptions of gore and violence.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James- a ghostly classic which is marked by its ambiguity and the opacity of its plot, all which make it all the more disturbing, if a little hard to follow at times. Bly Manor has appointed a new nanny to take care of a pair of twins, but soon enough, she finds out not all is well in the house, and a dark force might be preying on the children. CW implied incest, implied child abuse.

The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen- technically an example of very early cosmic horror, sitting at the intersection between Poe and Lovecraft, and clearly influenced by late Victorian scientific advancements. Some particularly gruesome deaths lead a group of men to slowly uncover the past of a one Helen Vaughan, and nature of a procedure performed on her mother before her conception. CW implied child abuse, suicide, sexual harrassment, human experimentation, extreme intersexism.

And those would be it!

[ervotica]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

crossed out = not currently writing, bold = favs

mcu; loki laufeyson, bucky barnes, steve rogers, miguel o’hara, wanda maximoff, pietro maximoff, kate bishop, natasha romanoff

the last of us; joel miller

challengers; art donaldson, patrick zweig, tashi duncan

jujutsu kaisen; nanami kento, satoru gojo

the marauders; regulus black, barty crouch jr, evan rosier, james potter, remus lupin, sirius black, marlene mckinnon, lily evans (poly combinations always preferred; wolfstar x reader, jegulus x reader, moonwater x reader, rosekiller x reader, poly!marauders, poly!slytherins)

fourth wing; xaden riorson, liam mairi, bodhi durran, garrick tavis, brennan sorrengail, aaric (cam) greycastle, ridoc gamlyn

greys anatomy; mark sloan, alex karev

criminal minds; aaron hotchner, derek morgan, spencer reid

acotar; azriel, rhysand, cassian, eris vanserra, nesta archeron, elain archeron, lucien vanserra, tamlin (+ my special polycule; elucien x tamlin x reader)

call of duty; simon “ghost” riley, könig, johnny “soap” mactavish, captain john price

house of the dragon; daemon targaryen, aegon ii targaryen, ser harwin strong

outer banks; rafe cameron, jj maybank, john b routledge, pope heyward

the maze runner; gally, thomas, minho

twilight; jasper hale, edward cullen, rosalie hale, emmett cullen, paul lahote, sam uley, seth clearwater (plus poly combinations)

the hunger games; finnick odair, peeta mellark, cato hadley, young coriolanus snow, sejanus plinth

stranger things; eddie munson, steve harrington, jim hopper

harry potter; fred weasley, mattheo riddle, theo nott, lorenzo berkshire, draco malfoy

chris evans/seb stan and co; lloyd hansen, andy barber, jake jensen, ransom drysdale, ari levinson, lee bodecker, charles blackwood, nick fowler, carter baizen

writing flings; felix catton, oliver quick

[deadguydeathmatch]

The Dead Guy Death Match Bracket Is Here!

Round 1 will be split into 4 waves of 16 24 hour polls and each wave will be posted 24 hours after the previous. The first wave will start on Tuesday the 18th of April at 3pm BST

The matchups are listed under the readmore and will be hyperlinked to the polls when they go up.

The matchups were all randomised although I did make minor adjustments if I thought one was much too unfair.

Also tagging @tournamentdirectory as I haven't already

Wave 1:

Charles Foster Kane (Citizen Kane) Vs Gavroche Thenardier (Les Miserables)

Leif (Bug Fables) Vs Queen Serenity (Sailor Moon)

L (Death Note) Vs Jonny D'Ville (The Mechanisms)

Noah Czerny (The Raven Cycle) Vs Lee Everett (The Walking Dead)

Pat Butcher (BBC Ghosts) Vs Xerxes Break (Pandora Hearts)

Captain Orimar Vale (Skyjacks Campaign Podcast) Vs Laura Palmer (Twin Peaks)

Diallos Hoslow (Elden Ring) Vs Rachel Amber (Life Is Strange)

Andrei Grandier (Rose Of Versailles) Vs Constance Blackwood (Ride The Cyclone)

Spock (Star Trek) Vs Maria Robotnik (Sonic The Hedgehog)

Kravitz (The Adventure Zone) Vs Sal Fisher (Sally Face)

Mari (Omori) Vs Ianto Jones (Torchwood)

Nate (Leverage) Vs Max (Sam and Max)

Owen Carvour (Spies Are Forever) Vs Vylad Ro'Meave (Minecraft Diaries)

Neil Perry (Dead Poet's Society) Vs Sayaka Miki (Madoka Magica)

Flapjack (The Owl House) Vs Maes Hughes (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Loki (Marvel) Vs Adam Faulkner Stanheight (Saw)

Wave 2:

Obi Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) Vs Diggory Graves (Hello From The Hallowoods)

Hugo Oak (Kipo And The Age Of Wonderbeasts) Vs Leonardo Hamato (Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Movie)

Chara (Undertale) Vs Magnus Chase (Magnus Chase)

River Song (Doctor Who) Vs Micheal Afton (Five Nights At Freddy's)

Catherine Earnshaw (Wurthering Heights) Vs Tara Maclay (Buffy The Vampire Slayer)

Laudna (Critical Role) Vs Aerith Gainsborough (Final Fantasy)

Mia Fey (Ace Attorney) Vs Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby)

Meiko 'Menma' Honma (The Flower We Saw That Day) Vs Claire Foley (Professor Layton)

Grelle Sutcliff (Black Butler) Vs Skelly (Hades)

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil) Vs Portgas D Ace (One Piece)

Polly Geist (Monster Prom) Vs Hua Cheng (Heaven's Official Blessing)

Avatar Kyoshi (Avatar The Last Airbender) Vs Galivar Kholin (Stormlight Archive)

Pink/Orchid (Animation Vs Animator/Minecraft) Vs Lewis Pepper (Mystery Skulls Animated)

Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb) Vs Stoick The Vast (How To Train Your Dragon)

Evelyn Hooper (Less is Morgue) Vs Manny Calavera (Grim Fandango)

Kokichi Oma (Danganronpa) Vs Silco (Arcane)

Wave 3:

Eurydice (Greek Mythology) Vs Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead)

Jack Twist (Brokeback Mountain) Vs Charles Vane (Black Sails)

Howard Hamlin (Better Call Saul) Vs Jason Grace (Riordanverse)

Nora Hildegard (The Vampire Diaries) Vs Gerard Keay (The Magnus Archives)

Manny (Swiss Army Man) Vs Matoro (Bionicle)

Wen Ning (Mo Dao Zu Shi) Vs Kikyo (Inuyasha)

Yuri Nakamura (Angel Beats) Vs Simon Kain (Pathologic)

Deep Throat (The X Files) Vs La Signora (Genshin Impact)

Esmeralda (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame Novel) Vs Ursula Zandt/Silhouette (Watchmen Comics)

Nageki Fujishiro (Hatoful Boyfriend) Vs Tuba (Infinity Train)

Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice) Vs Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption)

Oda Sakunoske (Bungou Stray Dogs) Vs Rose Quartz (Steven Universe)

Duncan (Dragon Age) Vs Junpei Yoshino (Jujitsu Kaisen)

Quincey Morris (Dracula) Vs Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)

Deadman (DC Comics) Vs Breakdown (Transformers)

Draal The Deadly (Troll Hunters) Vs Castiel (Supernatural)

Wave 4:

Matsuri Kanroji (Demon Slayer) Vs Midori (Your Turn To Die)

Kelsier (Mistborn) Vs Peter 'Parker' Yang (Malevolent Podcast)

Tadashi Hamada (Big Hero 6) Vs Noriaki Kakyoin (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

Erik (The Phantom Of The Opera) Vs Matthias Helvar (Six Of Crows)

Tigerstar (Warrior Cats) Vs Boromir (The Lord Of The Rings)

Joel Miller (The Last Of Us) Vs Pedro Madrigal (Encanto)

Rufus Emeterio (They Both Die At The End) Vs King Arthur (King Arthur)

Bunny Corcoran (The Secret History) Vs Lenore (Nevermore Webtoon)

Sliver Of Straw (Rain World) Vs Bow (Inanimate Insanity)

Chidi Anagonye (The Good Place) Vs Nicholas D Wolfwood (Trigun)

Tiso (Hollow Knight) Vs Okudera (Yakuza 5)

Koki Kariya (The World Ends With You) Vs Horst Cabal (Johannes Cabal)

Mr Boddy (Clue) Vs Garret Jacob Hobbs (Hannibal)

Eddie Kaspbrak (IT) Vs Emily (Corpse Bride)

Ash Lynx (Banana Fish) Vs Ophelia (Hamlet)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) Vs Kili (The Hobbit)

[scotianostra]

On the 21st June 1813 the lawyer and poet W E Aytoun was born.

Born in Edinburgh, of a family of literary tastes his father, Roger Aytoun,was writer to the Signet, a private society of Scottish solicitors, dating back to 1594 and part of the College of Justice, the fierce Jacobitism and love of ballads of his mother, Joan Keir Aytoun, had a lasting influence upon Aytoun’s own political and literary preferences., which was to impact upon Aytoun’s own interests, and aid them in turn when he was preparing his Ballads of Scotland collection for publication.

Having tentatively followed his father into law, Aytoun was appointed Professor of Rhetoric and Belles Lettres at Edinburgh University in 1845. It was in this post that he excelled, and details of his lectures have led to him being declared ‘the first modern professor of English literature’. Prior to this appointment, his early works as a poet were the subject of inclusion in the renowned Blackwood’s Magazine, and he would go on to become an important contributor to the magazine in a number of guises. Indeed, his literary criticism exhibited much of the keen sense of parody that was the defining feature of his acclaimed dramatic verse, 'Firmilian’.

Working in a less comic mode, Aytoun produced the Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers, which remains one of his best known works, it wasn’t just Jacobitism in, Edinburgh After Flodden , a 15 verse classic, he brings the news to the Capital of our greatest defeat to the citizens of Edinburgh, in Charles Edward At Versailles, Aytoun puts himself into Bonnie Prince Charlie’s head as he is in his room on the Anniversary of Culloden thinking of the ghosts that haunt him…

“Must those scenes and sounds of terror Haunt me still by day and night?”

I’ve chosen, an extract from the telling of a hero killed at Killiecankie, The Burial-March of Dundee.

Sound the fife, and cry the slogan—    Let the pibroch shake the air  With its wild triumphal music,    Worthy of the freight we bear.  Let the ancient hills of Scotland    Hear once more the battle-song  Swell within their glens and valleys    As the clansmen march along!  Never from the field of combat,    Never from the deadly fray,  Was a nobler trophy carried    Than we bring with us to-day;  Never, since the valiant Douglas    On his dauntless bosom bore  Good King Robert's heart—the priceless—    To our dear Redeemer's shore!  Lo! we bring with us the hero—    Lo! we bring the conquering Græme,  Crowned as best beseems a victor    From the altar of his fame;  Fresh and bleeding from the battle    Whence his spirit took its flight,  Midst the crashing charge of squadrons,    And the thunder of the fight!  Strike, I say, the notes of triumph,    As we march o'er moor and lea!  Is there any here will venture    To bewail our dead Dundee?

The full poem can be read here...https://allpoetry.com/The-Burial-March-Of-Dundee

And more about him...https://allpoetry.com/William-Edmondstoune-Aytoun

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝕲𝖔 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖉

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟺 - 𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜 𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚡𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.

[georgiapeach30513]

Misguided Ghosts, Part 6

Summary:  Jakey is the sweetest

Pairings:  Jake Jensen X Reader, Jake Jensen X Charles Blackwood

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  language, implied sex, implied non con/dub con, implied ghost sex, mentions of voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“And what are you going to be?” Jake talks to your belly as you struggle to finish breakfast.  “You’re going to be mine and your mommy’s precious sweet girl, aren’t you?”

No, he’s not.  Charles hops onto the counter behind you, and kicks at Jake’s arm.  You look down at Jake who had quit talking and tickling your belly to see him glaring behind you.  You got caught.  Are you ever going to tell my Princess what you’re doing?

“Jake, is everything okay,” you brush your hand against his cheek, and try to smile.  Jake seemed so preoccupied since you had been pregnant.  It was like he was always looking at something in the distance.  “Are you sure you want this?”

Haha, told you that you were caught.

“Giggles, I’m so happy.  Had I had known that you felt the same way I did, I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

Good save, dumb ass.

“You’re just…what do you see?” Jake stands up from the floor, and desperately tries to ignore Charles’ incessant laughter.  “Like just now, you were looking at something else.  Is it this house?  Is it because you don’t want to be here?”

“Stop,” he brings both your hands to his chest, and lets them rest on his heart, “It only beats for you and our baby.”

Sure, sure.  Bring up the fact that you have a beating heart.  You don’t find it funny that a woman that didn’t think she could get pregnant, now is?  You think your sperm did that?  We know that’s my hybrid baby.  Quit your babbling.

“And,” his voice gets louder, and your body flinches at the volume change, “This house is creepy and…”

Your handsome and sexy ghost has been fucking you with me every night.

“Giggles…we’re…we’re gonna be late.  We should eat.”

Fucking coward.  Can’t even tell her that our baby is going to be part ghost and part human.  You don’t want her to know that you enjoy fucking her with me.

“I’m just so glad that the baby has had such a good strong heartbeat,” he wraps his arms around you, settling his hands on your belly, while he rests his chin on your shoulder.  “You’re doing such a good job of growing this precious jellybean of ours.”

Oh god, gag me with a stick.  You’re sickeningly sweet.  Just look at it as a way to trap her to you.  Even if you don’t work out, she can’t leave you.  But you’re worried because you know that deep down that’s my baby.

Jake lifts his leg behind him, starting to swing it through Charles’ specter and the ghost rolls his eyes, I can’t feel that you nitwit.  Better eat.  Need the doctor to tell you we’re having a son.

Holding tightly to Jake’s hand, he leans down to kiss it before his head was back at the monitor, “Everything is normal, right?” He asks worriedly.  “This…this is our first,” it warmed your heart to hear Jake say that.  It was like he was wanting to have more once this baby was born.  

“Baby is growing great,” he pushes your stomach a bit, moving the wand around more, “And stubborn as a mule.  Go on, spread your legs.  You know,” he says, looking up at you and Jake, “Such a strange thing, me telling a not fully formed human to spread their legs so we know what sex they are.  Hehe,” god he was strange, but also the only doctor in the small town.  “Right.  Right there!  Ahh, look at it.”

“I am,” your eyes move over the monitor, and then up at Jake, “What are we looking at.”

“A taco.”

“What?” Jake shouts.  “She hasn’t had tacos because the smell makes her vomit.  What is our baby?”

“A girl,” snapping a few photos, he takes a towel to clean off the gel from your body.  “Should have guessed.  Girls are ladies, and they don’t like showing themselves off.  It’s okay, dad, you can always try again for a boy.”

“Jake?”

“A girl,” he whispers, looking down at you, and you could see why he was so silent.  His little lip was trembling.  “We’re having a girl.  And her heart, it’s beating good and strong?”

“Better than strong.  That’s one of the best heartbeats I’ve heard from a baby her size.  She’s always had a good strong heartbeat.  Okay, so…you two live in that creepy Blackwood house?”  Your squeal completely ignoring what he was saying, because you were having a girl with Jake Jensen.

“We’re having a girl,” you cry, sitting up, and pulling Jake over to you, “Jake, you were right.  We’re having us a girl.”

“And her heart?”

“Jake?  Her heart is fine.  He said it’s better than fine.  She’s perfect,” the doctor smiles, and nods at Jake.  

“I'm just…paranoid, I guess.  Can’t be too sure you know.  Everyone wants to make sure their baby is okay,” he clears his throat, finally embracing you in your hug.  “We’ve got to hang these on the fridge!”

“Your inflections on your words have been strange lately.”

“Strange man I am.  You know this.  Alright, come on.  Let’s go.”

Charles glares at the ultrasound photos on the fridge, looking at each one.  She was supposed to be a boy to carry on his name.  She was supposed to be a big strong boy.  She is now a…Hey!

His body was engulfed with the refrigerator door opening, “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“You most certainly saw me there.  I make myself visible to you.  What are you doing?”

“My girlfriend wants strawberry milk.  Now…I could give her the strawberry syrup which is full of disgusting ingredients and is most likely what she wants.  But I could make some with fresh strawberries and sugar.”

“Just make her what she wants, and put a strawberry on the side.  Don’t make her more miserable.”

“You do have a heart,” Jake pauses with his words, and tells himself he was never going to refer to Charles having a heart again.  “Why don’t you join us in the bedroom anymore?”

“Why aren’t you fucking someone without a care?  She can’t get pregnant.”

He mixes the syrup in the milk, watching as the liquid turns into a pretty pink color before he spins on his heels to look at Charles, “You literally were just using her to breed, weren’t you?  You don’t care anymore now that she’s pregnant with my baby.  Which by the way, the baby's heartbeat is the best he’s ever heard.  How are we supposed to even know if your glowing jizz had any effect on my daughter?  Is there a DNA test for that?  To prove that your ghost sperm didn’t knock my Giggles up.  You pig.  You just played with her, and then you don't care?”

“You’re too sweet.  It’s disgusting.  You’re treating her like she’s a…”

“Princess?  You’re the one that calls her that.  You…you’re disgusting,” slinging the door to the fridge open, he grabs strawberries, and angrily cuts two.  “You, you came into me.”

“Please, don’t say it like that.”

“You used me just as much as you used her.”

“Oh god, let’s act so righteous,” Charles rolls his eyes, turning to walk into the living room and his chair, “And you knew about me.  By the way,  I used her a lot that first night, and even had her screaming my name.  Just ask her.”

Jake starts to say something else, but thinks better of it.  Looking down at the milk, he grabs the whipped cream, and swirls a mound on it.  Ignoring Charles’ snide comments as he walks up the stairs.  “Giggles,” Jake announces walking through the door, “We need a bedroom on the lower level.”

“But this room has the best view.  Aha!” You squeal as he hands you the drink.  “Jakey, it’s perfect.  Oh,” using the straw, you take the biggest drink, this was exactly what you and your daughter were wanting.  “And there’s a perfect room next to us for Miss Rosewyn Penelope.”

“She’s gonna have fun when it comes time to spell her name,” he removes his shirt, and settles down beside you.  Already scooting closer to your body.  Thankfully he was like a furnace, because you were always so cold.  His thick fingers rub over your belly, and you feel guilty.

“Jake, I’m sorry, I just have no sex drive right now.  I didn’t have morning sickness during the first trimester, and now I do.  And I want to have sex with you.  You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and…”

“You mean more to me than just your body.  You’re growing our daughter.  I have no room to complain.”

“Why are you acting so off lately then?” You look down at him, thankful that he was the father to your baby.  You two were going to make the prettiest baby, and you hoped she had her daddy’s lashes.  So dark and full.  He doesn’t answer though.  “Is it because of what I said about the dildo?”

“What?”

“That…you know I had a fantasy of you and Charles, and…got off on it.”

“What if…you said that you woke up so worked up, and you needed to fuck something,” when he said it like that it was so crude.  I mean sure, you had such a vivid dream of Charles railing into you that first night.  But still thoughts of Jake kept flashing in your mind, too.  

Waking up in various positions.  Once with your legs spread wide, and you could swear that you felt his cock pushing into you.  “What if it wasn’t a dream?”

“Jake, I love you, but that’s stupid.  Charles is dead.  He died young, and ghosts aren’t real,” he lifts up off the bed, and stares at you.  His usually animated face is gone.  “They’re not real.”

“He was murdered.”

“Jake, stop.”

“We saw it in the library.  He was murdered.  He died shortly after that portrait.  Why couldn’t he be real?”

“So, let me get this straight, you think that first night I was here and having those wild sex dreams, he was actually fucking me?”  He shrugs his shoulders, but can’t meet your eyes.  “Why…why would you think that?”

“You said…you woke up with your ass in the air, and face on the bed, and your body was moving.  You could feel his thrusts.  And…I saw it, too,” your eyes go wide as you stare at him.  Sure, Jake had seen you naked multiple times, but never like that.  “Your body was moving like you were being fucked, and you were fast asleep.”

“How much did you watch?”

“I…Giggles, I shouldn’t have done it, but I wanted you so bad, and…I didn’t know you were asleep.  You were so loud, and the door was open, and I wanted to walk past it, but you were pointing right at the door, and…I felt him in me, too?”

“He fucked you, too?” You start laughing, because what else were you supposed to do?  This was beyond insane.  Jake who you had loved for years was getting a pass for that nonsense, because it was too raw to deal with it.  This was bizarre.  Ever since you had moved here it was strange and unusual.  No wonder you got this house at a huge discount.

“No.  He didn’t fuck me.  I felt him come into me,” you cock up an eyebrow, and he waves his hands, “No, like, he went into my body, like possession.  That’s why I didn’t like him.  It was too personal with that picture there.  It’s like he was watching our every move.  Still does.  Like he’s inescapable unless we move.”

“I want Rosewyn to grow up here though.  She would live in a castle, and…”

“Become friends with a sex crazed ghost?”

“Wait…that first night, it was all night, but in my dreams he was saying something about…ew, no.   Ghosts can’t have babies.  No.  No.  This conversation is over.  I’m tired, I’m going to bed.  We didn’t have this conversation.  We have a healthy baby girl growing, and we’re going to be parents, and we’re always going to live in this damn castle.  So unless you plan on pretending this ghost Charles is a figment of your imagination, or you're going to find his bones to burn or call the Winchesters, I don’t want to hear another word about this.”

She’s living in denial, Charles laughs at the foot of the bed, and Jake tries to ignore him.  She knows.  She still feels me growing in her.  Doesn’t want to admit the big bad ghost filled her up so good.  Got you believing that you’re the crazy one.  Neither of you are.  You won’t get rid of me.  I’ll haunt you forever because I’m growing in her.  You’re trapped with me.  And when that baby is born, I’ll be able to follow you around.  You couldn’t even tell her the truth.  Maybe I should.

His body flickers, but you were curling into Jake’s side.  “Jakey, I don’t want to fight.  I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers, scooting down the bed.  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you and our daughter.”

“I know.”

“Shh, get some sleep.”

And maybe one day she’ll feel like fucking you again.  You could just be like me and take, Charles stands off the bed, and starts to head back to his chair.  His home.  Where he felt the most comfortable.

I’ll never be like you, stopping in the doorway, he turns and stares at Jake who gives him a sinister grin.  I’m learning, too.  You won’t hurt my family.  You better change your attitude.  

Don’t threaten me, little boy.  Sweet dreams, Jake.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @sstan-hoe @infatuatedharleys @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @feyfantome @seitmai @stronginawayjbb @smile1318 @avengersalways @toozmanykids @elrw24 @lavender-annd-lilac @xcaptain-winterx @redbloodedgurl @andydrysdalerogers @bambamwolf87 @cjand10

[xxdrowninglessonsxx]

Book Review - We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

I will preface this by saying that this is a masterpiece of a book. Personally what I picked up on at first was the foreshadowing because the reader is essentially told from the beginning that Merricat “did it” with the famous opening paragraph. It’s up to the reader to accept that Merricat is the murderer and an unreliable narrator. It’s evident she’s stuck in the headspace of when she committed the crime because she spends a lot of her time daydreaming and thinking about killing the villagers and walking over their dead bodies. The way Shirley Jackson writes the foreshadowing is, dare I say, perfect because it leaves the reader guessing as to what is going to happen next and what has already happened in the past. Not to mention, Uncle Julian’s dialogue is framed in a way that gives the reader just enough information to stay curious and keep reading. Personally, I guessed it was Merricat from the beginning but I truly knew she killed her family when Uncle Julian said the Merricat had died in the orphanage when Constance was on trial. Merricat and Uncle Julian never actually interact with each other once throughout the book if you go back and look, whether Julian believes her to be truly dead, or whether Merricat forbids herself, or even a mixture of fear from both parties. I suspected as well when Merricat would say things along the lines of how she isn’t allowed to prepare the food or do certain things, as if giving herself rules. The dialogue toys with the readers mind, as if interacting as the story plays out. I’ve seen other people on the reviews say that the story drones on, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The story, in fact, refuses to drone on; it gets straight to the fact of the matter. Every word, line, and paragraph have meaning. Shirley Jackson wrote a story so great within 200 pages what other authors couldn’t achieve in 500. The climax is phenomenal - the symbolism of the house burning shows the cruelty of the townspeople and how they see the Blackwoods as “other.” They destroy their house more after the fire is put out, breaking windows, destroying the property, forcing Merricat and Constance to flee with only strengthens what is best described as a trauma bond because they feel so ostracized. Then, once in the woods, Merricat states she wants to poison the villagers food, and Constance replies with “The way you did before?” And Merricat replies back and says, “Yes, the way I did before.” The long asked question is finally answered.

As I was saying before, every interaction and the behavior between characters has a meaning, and it is so crystal clear. Take a look at the OCD rituals both sisters exhibit. How Merricat feel “guilty” and wants to make a point to be kinder to Uncle Julian. I say “guilty” because I don’t believe she truly feels guilt. It should be noted that her goal is to be isolated with Constance. After the climax (the fire and the reveal of the murderer), despite what Merricat has done, Constance reprises her role and continues to choose Merricat, choosing to be complicit once more. Think of how Constance washed the sugar dish because “there was a spider in it.” Ultimately, Merricat gets exactly what she wanted because to my knowledge, Merricat allows Constance to believe that Charles was the one who burned the house down even though Merricat was the one who threw the pipe in the trash can. Because of this as well, the reader realizes Merricat doesn’t feel guilty because she met her end goal. She even tells Constance that she knew she would like “living on the moon.”

However let’s not forget about Charles. By no means is he a good person. Merricat equates him to a ghost and a demon after he arrives, comparing him to their father. He sleeps in John Blackwood’s room, wears his clothes and jewelry, and even eats at the same spot at the dinner table, and it’s implied that he has similar behaviors as John Blackwood. He’s a trigger for Merricat because he disrupts their isolation and he’s after their money. In Merricat’s mind, he intends to steal Constance away, and Merricat refuses to allow that to happen.

I could go on for longer, but whoever reads this review will understand the point. Shirley Jackson has a way with words, and I would be lucky to write a story with just an inkling of the power that this story holds. She deserves to be more appreciated. I’m going to read The Haunting of Hill House next.

[the-writing-pigeon]

Here is everything that I write for. When requests open, please remember that I have the right to decline a request if I feel uncomfortable.

Bucky Barnes (All Buckies included!)

Baron Helmut Zemo (All Zemos included!)

Peter Parker (College era)

Loki

Steve Rogers 

Tony Stark

Wanda Maximoff 

Natasha Romanoff 

Carol Danvers

Rocket (platonic)

Groot (platonic)

Sebastian Stan:

Charles Blackwood

Nick Fowler

Steve Kemp

Lee Bodecker

Jefferson (Once Upon A Time)

Chase Collins

Max (Sharper)

"God" (Ghosted)

Micky Henry

Chris Beck

Chris Evans:

Ransom Drysdale

Lloyd Hansen

Other:

Ghost (COD)

König (COD)

Heath Ledger!Joker

Father (or Doctor) Charlie Mayhew (Grotesquire)

A Court of Thorns and Roses

Lucian Vanserra (My favorite character 😍)

Feyre Archeron

Rhysand

Azriel

Cassian

Mor

Amarantha

King Hybern

Tamlin (even though he’s a bitch)

Amren

Eris Vanserra

Female!Reader (All of my f!readers are AFAB)

Age Regression

(Both of above and below are completely separate and I know the difference)

DD/LG & MD/LG

Dark Stories + Dark Characters

Smut

Most kinks (I will specify what I do not write)

Fluff

Angst

Tropes

Non-Con/Dub-Con

Gore

Whump

Pedophillia of any kind

Degradation (unless in a darker fic)

Bimbofication

Bathroom stuff

Beastiality (Hybrids are ok!)

Sexual face slapping

Bathroom stuff (scat, pee drinking, ect.)

Bimboification

Any weird fetishes (Feet, race, sexuality, etc.)

Step-cest

Incest

Top!Reader

Male!Reader (I do sincerely apologize, I just can not get in that headspace)

RPF (Real people fiction)

[vase-of-lilies]

𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚

Wanda Maximoff 

Natasha Romanoff 

Carol Danvers

Peggy Carter

Bucky Barnes (40’s, Winter Soldier, Civil War Bucky, Recovery/Wakanda Bucky, TFATWS series)

Baron Helmut Zemo (Civil war, TFATWS Series)

(18+) Peter Parker

Loki

Steve Rogers 

Tony Stark

Rocket (platonic)

Groot (platonic)

Charles Blackwood

Steve Kemp

Nick Fowler

Lee Bodecker

Chase Collins

Micky Henry

Chris Beck

Ransom Drysdale

Lloyd Hansen

Ghost (COD)

König (COD)

John Price (COD)

(I know nothing about the COD guys, but they’re a mix of big, burley, masked, deep ass voiced, men:))

Female!Reader

DD/LG & MD/LG

Dark

Smut

Fluff

Angst

Tropes

Non-Con/Dub-Con

Most Kinks

Body Worship

Gore

Whump

Pedophilia

Beastiality (besides occasional hybrid AU’s)

Harsh Degradation (slut, whore, cumbucket, etc.)

Sexual face slapping

Whipping

Bathroom stuff (scat, pee drinking, ect.)

Bimboification

Feet

Step-cest

Incest

Top!Reader (So sorry, I just can’t get in that mindset)

Male!Reader (So sorry, I just can’t get in that mindset)