#shadow monster x you

[monstersflashlight]

Day 3. Monster-kinktober: Haunted + Free

A/N: Continuation of this little short story. Enjoy!

Shadow monster x fem!reader || tentacle sex, oral sex, semi-public sex

When your friends insisted on me going into the haunted house with them you were scared, you were scared shitless. You didn’t like scary stuff, you didn’t even like that you were out on Halloween night. You liked your Halloween to be spent with candy and watching cringy scary movies that made you laugh and didn’t stop you from sleeping at night. But apparently you were “a baby” and you needed to “get over it”, or so they said. They annoyed you so much that you decided to say fuck it, the park attractions couldn’t be that bad, even kids went there… Right?

You were wrong.

And now you regretted it. You regretted it with every fiber of your body. When the lights went off and you heard high pitched screams, you joined in, screaming, too. You reached around and found somebody’s arm, thinking it was your friend. You clung to him like a baby koala, your whole body pressed against his side as he kept walking for a few steps, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. Your eyes were firmly closed as he stopped in the middle of somewhere.

"Darling, I'm really enjoying this, but I think you got your arms messed up," an unknown voice whispered against your ear, making you shiver and open your eyes widely, a scream almost escaping your lips before he covered your mouth with his dark hand, chuckling.

In front of you wasn’t one of your friends, but one of the monsters working on the attraction, looking at you with the most delicious smirk on his stupidly handsome face. His tentacles undulating behind his black form, all the shadows around his body, making him look enticing instead of scary. And you were almost salivating, he was that handsome. He looked good enough to eat.

You were two seconds away from running away far from him, completely embarrassed, when he stopped you again, one of his tentacles circling your waist to stop your movements. "Calm down, I will guide you outside, don't worry, I don't bite... At least not if you don't ask first." He winked at you, and you blushed, heavily flustered. Your body was still shivering, but this time it was not from fear.

You pulled away just enough to get your mouth free, but his hand landed on your neck, where he squeezed softly, making your heart skip a beat. “Can we... can we leave now?” You stuttered, trying to sound somewhat coherent even though you could feel the tear stains in your cheeks from earlier and your voice was trembling slightly.

His eyes softened. “No, darling, not yet. The doors are closed until this ends,” he explained, his hand still around your neck, caressing your pulse point and making your heart speed up.

“How long is that?” You asked, breathless.

He looked at the ceiling like it got the answer to that question and answered: “About… 20 more minutes.” You looked at the ceiling expecting to find a clock there, but there was nothing at all… how the fuck?

But you had more important matters to attend to. “Oh. Okay. I should try to find my friend then…” You pushed his chest softly, not really wanting to untangle yourself, but being a bit uncomfortable with the situation.

“Or you could keep me company,” he teased. “I bet I can distract you from the fear,” the innuendo in his tone was so clear you shivered, your panties getting wet. There was no way this amazing shadow monster wanted to fuck you, right?

“And how would you do that?” You asked.

He smirked again. “I don’t know if you realized… But I have tentacles.” His tentacles came around his body and touched different parts of yours, making you giggle when they tickled your sides. “Your laugh entices me like no other ever had,” he confessed as he lowered his head and claimed your mouth. You kissed him with desperation, clinging to his body until you were breaking apart, gasping for air. You forgot you had to breathe for a second, his kiss so good you forgot you even existed apart of that point of contact.

He started kissing down your neck, his hands groping your ass. You looked around frantically, almost expecting some other human or monster to appear, and let out a choked: “He- here?”

“Nobody is going to come this way anymore, darling… And you look especially good against that fake-mold wall,” he joked. Your own laugh died when one of his shadow tentacles slipped under your shirt, cupping your boob and flicking your nipple. You groaned and he looked at you like he was a predator and you were his next prey. You shivered again, your body filling with anticipation.

He touched you all over, his tentacles and hands were everywhere and you couldn’t stop moaning as you bite into his lips. You were fighting for dominance in a battle where nobody would lose. You were kissing like desperate souls finding each other again… and it was intoxicating. When you felt his tentacles lowering your pants and panties, you pulled away for a second, looking at his eyes trying to decipher what was going to happen next. He said nothing as he fell to his knees in front of you.

When he looked up at you, you felt like the most powerful woman in the world. Such a big scary monster was on his knees for you, to pleasure you. It was exhilarating and your pussy got wetter instantly. He probed it with his fingers and you cried out, moving your hips to get more friction. And when he grabbed your leg and put it over his shoulder, you almost lost yourself.

The first contact of his super long tongue against your pussy was like an electric shock, running down and making every cell in your body stand to attention. He didn’t give you time to prepare, before you knew it he was sucking and licking and rubbing and… driving you completely insane. You were almost there, so, so close you could almost feel it in the tip of your fingers. That’s when he decided to make his tentacles join in. A tentacle pressed softly against your asshole as another one pressed inside of you. The combination was too much for you, and you fell apart around him, screaming and thrashing as he held you down with his tentacles so you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“That was… That was… wow,” you let out between heavy breaths. He chuckled, standing up and kissing you again. You could taste yourself in his lips, and that made you want to devour him even more. You reached his dick, but he batted your hand away. “But I…”

“This was for you. Also, there’s no time, I need to get you outside before your friends come looking for you,” he explained with a smile as he embraced you with his tentacles, pulling your pants and panties up your legs with the softest caress. Your legs were still weak when he guided you out of the haunted house.

He guided you outside slowly, letting you cling to his arm for balance, your knees still trembling after that earth shattering orgasm. Once you were out and you saw your friends looking around for you, at the same time they located you, he leaned down and whispered against your ear: “Hope next time I can fuck you properly, darling.” You blushed heavily and he laughed, pulling away until your friends reached you. They asked a few questions that you weren’t ready to ask and he cut them: "Can I have your phone number, then?" Without thinking too much about it, you gave it to him, ignoring your friend’s cheers and comments as you typed it on his phone.

[bet-on-me-13]

Bruce Wayne was never Batman.

So! The night that Bruce Wayne's parents got shot, he developed an Unbreakable Resolve. He needed to get rid of the Crime that had taken his Parents away from him, no matter what.

But that night, he also developed a deep-seated fear of Death. He was face to face with his own Demise and instead of dying himself he saw his Parents die instead. He was Terrified of ending up like them.

But he still needed to stop Crime. He couldn't just let criminals go unpunished, and while he was still using his wealth to try and prevent it before it began, he knew there needed to be something to stop crime After it had been committed. And the Cops were useless on that Front.

He eventually found a solution while looking through his Parents Family Heirlooms.

Ancient Books dating back to the founding of Gotham and even before then, telling of a Creature from another world who his Ancestors had helped in the Past. A Being of Fear and Shadow, who owed a debt to the Wayne Family. He needed that Being. A Monster of Shadows and Fear was exactly the answer to scaring criminals away from committing crimes and punishing those who did.

But he needed to find the Being from another world first.

So he left home, traveling across the Globe training with the best Magicians and Demonologists in the world in search of the Monster who owed his Family a Debt. His travels took him far, from the streets of LA where he met a man named Zatara, to the Snowy Mountains of Nanda Parbat where he learned of the Lazarus Pits and the Demon's that came out of them.

While studying the Lazarus Pits, he was trained by the organization who guarded them. They despised Weakness, and while their leader was in awe of his Intelect he was less impressed by his body's conditioning. If he was to study the Lazarus Pits, he would first have to earn the Right in Combat.

He eventually managed to pass their Tests and eventually left them, having handed over a Copy of his research as the price for being allowed to Study the Pits.

Years later, he finally returned to Gotham, fully equipped to Summon the Being that owed him a Debt.

Bruce drew up the Summoning Circle as perfectly as he possibly could, he had one shot at it.

A drop of his blood and a splash of Lazarus Water later, and the Circle began to glow an ominous Green. Slowing, a shifting shadow began to emerge from the Circle, at first only a mass of writhing darkness before their form Solidified.

The Books he had found on the Spirit said that it would take the form of the Summoners Greatest Fear, which just so happened to be Bats for Bruce. The Form that the Spirit chose reflected that, with large Dark Wings falling over their form as if they were a Cape, and horns looking like the Ears of a Bat. From the Darkness, two glowing eyes appeared.

"Spirit, hear me. My name if Bruce Wayne, and I am calling in the Debt owed to my Family centuries ago. My City is plagued with crime and malice, rotting from its Core. My efforts to prevent Crime from the side of the Light have been in vain, Crime persists despite my efforts. In order for my vision to be fulfilled, the Criminals of this City must have their hearts pierced by Fear. Fear of Retribution. Fear of Consequences. Fear of Vengeance."

Thoughout bis Speech, the Shadowed Figure stayed silent.

"That is why I have called you here. I want you to stalk these streets, punish the criminals of this City and strike fear into their hearts from the shadows, so that they know to stay in the light. I don't want you to Kill them, never kill them. Let them live with that fear in their Hearts until their final days."

After he finished his speech, the Figure finally spoke.

"Your Quest is an Honorable one. You seek the betterment of your people's, and are unafraid to resort to drastic measures to achieve that goal. It reminds me of my Liege's resolve." It Spoke, it's voice low and rumbling. "Very Well. From this day forth, I shall protect your City from the Darkness in its own Heart. I shall be your Dark Knight."

...

Had this idea out of nowhere and needed to write it down. In this AU, Bruce still wants to protect his City from crime, but is understandably traumatized from seeing the Deaths of his Parents. He has a deep-seated fear of Dying, so he chooses to forgo fighting crime himself.

Instead, he finds out about a Spirit that his Ancestors helped long ago, and decides that the most logical next step out be to Summon a Demon to protect his City. Instead of training his Body for a decade to become Batman, he trains his Mind and Studies as much about Magic and Demon's as Possible.

He still knows how to fight because he trained with the League. He approached them with an offer to study the Lazarus Pits and give them his findings, and they accepted. But Ra's didn't want a weakling on his Base so he also required Bruce to train his body. He saw his potential for combat, and was so disappointed that Bruce had chosen a different path. He could have been Great!

Bruce still has a thing with Talia that produces Damian, he is still a point of interest from Ra's since he is insanely smart and has huge potential, and he knows how to fight pretty well. Albeit not as well as in Canon.

Bruce becomes the Benefactor/Guy in the Chair for Fright Knight (who is the one he summoned if you couldn't tell), who looks like a "Bat Man" because of Bruce's fear of Bats. Fright Knight agreed to this because 1.) He had a debt to pay, 2.) Bruce reminded him of Danny, and 3.) He respected Bruce's ballsyness to Summon a demon and command it to protect people.

Bruce still adopts his Kids, but there are some changes.

Dick is adamant about fighting Crime, and eventually Bruce is forced to let him go on patrol with Fright Knight, who has started going by Batman. Thankfully Frighty managed to give him some blessings so he had minor powers and would be safer.

Jason is mostly the same, and he is so excited that Robin actually IS Magical. When he dies, Fright Knight, who had gotten attached to their Family, goes into the Zone to search for him. He is unsuccessful unfortunately.

Tim is kind of funny. He figured out that Dick was Robin, and Jason was the 2nd Robi , but assumed that Bruce was Batman. When he approached Bruce about becoming Robin so he would stop going down his violent Cycle, Bruce Redirected him to talk to Fright Knight, who was not taking his failure to find Jason well.

Damien grew up knowing that his Father was a Genius, and the Master of the Batman, which gave him a bit of an Ego. At first he thought of Fright Knight as a Servant, and tried to command him like he did with Alfred. Frighty corrected him quickly enough.

Any more ideas for this AU? I have so many, but I think I need to stop for now.

[sanguineterrain]

angel of small death | jason todd

Summary: You can't remember what it was like to be human. Until Jason returns. Now, he's the only thing tethering you to this world. And you won't let anything happen to him.

Pairing: Jason Todd x shadow monster!gn!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings/tags: monster!reader, canon-typical violence, codependency, reader attacks Batman, reader accidentally hurts Jason, stalking, suicidal thoughts, crying, hurt/comfort, somewhat happy ending.

A/N: I wrote this in a day so if there are any grammar mistakes please feel free to lmk!

the divider

You feel it when Jason returns. 

No one else seems to. The Bat (his… family?) doesn’t sense anything is different, but you do. 

And just as quickly as you feel him, he’s lost. His grave is empty. You scour Gotham for him, his body, anything. But he’s gone. Stolen. 

If you were more powerful, free from this wretched body, you would find him. Hunt down whoever took him, then bring him back to Gotham, so he might rest. 

For a short day, your limbs had felt like flesh. The void that is your mouth had smiled. You were human again. 

Jason is lost. You scream in mourning. 

He’s back. 

You’re awake.

“Go through the side!”

Hood’s men scramble to obey, armed and ready. They’ve planned this ambush for three and a half weeks. Black Mask made himself scarce after Hood made it clear he wouldn’t leave him alone. You watched in pride and worry as Jason threw himself into his revenge. 

He’s stronger than in your memory. He’s big, bigger than most opponents. Bigger than the Bat. He’s good with a weapon. Good in combat. Scarred all over. Brutal. 

But he’s angry and hurt, and he’s human. He may have the Pit inside of him, but he is no monster. You would know.

The Bat is hunting him. You will tear him apart, if necessary. You will tear apart anyone who hurts Jason. 

You slip through the shadows, letting your limbs stretch as long as they can. They make awful shrieking noises when you stretch too far, and it makes the men below nervous. 

One of Jason’s men looks right at you. You look back. He gasps and runs back to the van.

These men are loyal but they’re nowhere near strong enough to protect Jason. You’d prefer to eat them all, but Jason seems to trust them. So you gut a lackey in a clown mask and silently remain on the highest balcony across the street from Black Mask’s lair.

Once, you permitted yourself to watch Jason in his apartment, in his bed, while he slept. He cried through a nightmare. You tried to chase the nightmare away, but you’d only made it worse. He awakened, sweating and gasping, and screamed as soon as he saw you.

You haven’t revealed yourself since. 

You are lonely. You want to die. You’ve wanted to die for a long time. 

But you won’t. Not before you see Jason home safe.

Automatic gunfire echoes from the lair. You rush to the unlit side of the building. You peer in through the window. 

It’s mostly Black Mask’s men on the floor, bleeding. You slip inside to eat the death. 

“The fuck is that?!”

You look up just as three bullets pass through you. You scowl at the offending gunman, who drops his gun and runs. Rude. 

You wouldn’t normally enter like this, make your presence so obvious. If someone were looking for you, they could easily track you after tonight.

But nothing matters except Jason. 

There’s shouting outside. You soar to the ceiling and through the skylight. 

“Shit, shit, fuck! Boss! Boss, you alright?”

“Shut the fuck up, Garett,” Jason says, helmeted head lolling against the brick. Three of his men crowd him.

You speed to the shadow, carefully avoiding the light casted by the overhead streetlight. You’ve stepped in one before and the fluorescent lights sting.

Jason is bleeding from his gut, where his armor separates to allow movement. 

You creep closer. If you still had a heart, it would beat fast. You remember how it felt. You don’t feel fear often these days, but now you know for sure that it was never gone.

You scream.

The streetlight shatters. Jason and his men cover their ears, shouting in pain. His men start to bleed from their ears. It doesn’t take much for you to strike them down, knock them into a fitful slumber.

“Who’s there?”

Jason immediately pulls out his gun, despite his injury. You try to stay on his side, so he won’t have to see your yellow, bottomless eyes. You’d close your eyes if you weren’t so afraid of hurting Jason further.

“I ain’t scared of you!” he says, and you’d be inclined to believe him if your teeth weren’t peeking out at the scent of his fear.

You swallow and focus on his injury. You stretch your fingers to two thin points. Then you reach into his stomach and pull out the bullet.

Jason yells in pain and fires. You ignore it and keep going. 

“Sssssss-sssor–ry,” you rasp.

Jason turns his head and looks right at you. He panics, trying to squirm away. You quickly hold him down so your fingers won’t rip through his intestine.

“Let go a’me! Let go!” 

He fires until the cartridge is empty. You are crying. 

“Sss-sssor-sssorry.” Then you sear Jason’s wound closed. 

That’s when he passes out, the pain overwhelming him. Black tears run down your face and join the dark. 

As soon as the wound is cauterized, you slink to the darkest corner of the city, inside an abandoned warehouse. 

You let yourself grow into your full form, showing your claws and exposed tendons and the hole in your chest.

Then you cry, cry, cry. The windows explode, the bricks become dust, and still, you cry into the rubble. You cry until morning.

You can’t stop.

You should. You’re fearsome and ugly and Jason is already entrenched in grief. You’ll only make him worse.

But after the ambush, you can’t rest. You have tried to return to the dirt, to where you had lain for so long. You swim to the bottom of the ocean and try to sleep with the creatures there. That doesn’t work either. 

So you follow Jason instead. You follow him every night on patrol. You snipe anyone who gets too close, intending to harm. Jason returns home with a full magazine, most nights. You know he should take care of his adversaries on his own to keep in practice, but you throw up iridescent black oil when you try to let go and not protect him. 

“I know you’re there.”

You’re crouched on an apartment’s fire escape two stories above. Jason has stopped. He’s been frozen for several minutes. 

You look around, trying to find who Jason sees. But the alley is empty. 

“I know…” Jason takes a shaky breath. “I know you’re there. I feel ya watchin’ me.”

Then he takes off his helmet and tosses it aside. He takes off his holsters and removes his knives and tasers and drops those next to his helmet.

You crawl on all fours down the apartment building, claws scraping the brick. You can smell his fear from here. 

You rattle a loose screw at the end of your climb. Jason turns in your direction. He gasps, eyes wide. 

You freeze. Neither of you move for a long minute.

“You’ve been followin’ me,” he says. 

You nod. You’re not sure if he can see you in the dark.

“Who—what are you?”

You crawl closer. Jason wants to move away, you can tell, but he doesn’t.

On your hands, you come up to his head. You wish you could make yourself smaller.

Jason swallows hard, chest rising and falling quickly.

You’re not good at speaking. You used to be. Used to have all the words. Now they’re gone. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

“I feel… shit, I feel like I know ya,” he says. “You know me?”

“Rrrrrrrob–rrobiiii—robiiiiin.”

He inhales sharply. “Yeah. You knew me then?”

You reach for him. Careful. So careful. You use the blunt side of your claw to touch Jason’s scarred cheek. He’s so warm. So full of light. 

He steps back. Your hand falls. 

You start to cry. You can’t help it. 

Your claws dig into the pavement, tearing through asphalt. 

“Waaaan–wantttttt. Tttt. Jaaaayy. WAN—TTTT. WA—JAY. WANNN—”

You try to speak softly, but it comes out like a shriek. Jason grunts in pain, covering his ears. Red seeps through his fingers. 

You stumble backwards at the sight. You must go. You must try again and see if the ocean will take you.

“Wait! Wait, wait!”

Jason runs around, holding up his hands in front of you. You stop, black tears pooling into a puddle at his feet.

“It’s okay. It’s alright. I know you.”

You want to speak but you’ll hurt him if you do. So you cry in silence. Jason waits.

“‘S okay,” he says again. “You didn’t do it on purpose. Shh, shh. Don’t cry.”

His fear is lessened. Not gone, but not grown. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, honey.”

The tears keep falling. Jason keeps waiting. 

“‘Course I remember ya,” he says, and pets you where your cheek should be. “How could I forget you?”

You moan quietly. It doesn’t hurt Jason this time.

The night that the Bat finds Jason brings a thunderstorm with it.

You’ve followed Jason for weeks now. He’s no longer afraid when he catches glimpses of your endless mouth and shapeless eyes. Sometimes, on patrol, you get nervous. When you’re too close to people, to noise, you get restless. You want to run, but you can’t, because Jason will be alone. And so will you. 

Jason has begun to hum when you get nervous. You get closer when he does, looming over him, but he no longer smells like fear.

“Y’smell like peaches, y’know that?” he’d said a few weeks ago. 

You’d just pitched your head lower to show you were listening. 

“Yeah,” Jason had said. “Like peach pie. I was so confused the night you removed the bullet. Craved peach pie for days. Ain’t that the weirdest shit you’ve ever heard?”

Honestly, yes. After everything, that is definitely the weird part.

“Gooo—g-g…” You’d swallowed, frustrated. Jason had hummed.

“‘S okay,” he’d said. “‘M listening. Take your time.”

So you’d tried again. “G-good?” 

“Yeah, honey. Oh, yeah. So good. You’re so good.”

That hadn’t been what you meant. But you’d gotten the feeling Jason knew what you were asking and decided to answer another question anyway.

It’s pouring tonight. The rain doesn’t bother you, but if lightning starts, you may have to retire for tonight. 

That’s only in an extreme circumstance, however. For now, you’re right there with Jason. 

“Shit, ‘s really comin’ down, huh!” Jason shouts over the rain. 

He swings to a rooftop and almost slips on water. You rush to him, but he holds up a hand, laughing.

“‘M fine, ‘m fine. I gotta finish the southside. You can dip if you want.”

You don’t respond. Jason sighs.

“Alright, fine. C’mon.”

You’re two blocks into the southside when a dark blob lands in front of Jason. You stay hidden, eyes sharp. 

The blob is a man. The Bat. 

“Jason,” Batman says. Jason stiffens.

You feel a screech working its way out, but you stop it for Jason’s sake. You will intervene if he needs help.

Both of their fear levels have shot up. 

The Bat steps forward. “You lied to me, Jason. I can’t believe it’s you going around Gotham killing—”

“Oh, you can’t?” Jason spits. “You can’t believe your little bird that’s back from the dead is angry that no one fuckin’ cleaned up this city? The clown is still alive, Bruce!”

Thunder cracks the sky. You stay silent, keeping your grip on the side of the building light. You’d offered to kill the Joker for Jason. Ki–lllll clo–own? K–ill?

But Jason had told you no. Had said that it wasn’t your responsibility. So you’d refrained. 

The Bat is quiet for a moment. Then, “I’m sorry, Jason. I know you’re upset, but—”

“Fuck you. I don’t wanna hear your attempts at peacemaking. I’m not gonna stop no matter what you say.”

“Jason,” the Bat says. “You have to stop killing.”

“The only way I’m gonna stop is if you kill me.”

You scramble down as soon as you hear armor clash. A batarang strikes Jason’s chestplate. Jason’s increasingly aggressive, forcing the Bat to defend himself harder. 

Thunder strikes again. Jason knows all of the Bat’s weak points. And while the Bat is distracted, it doesn’t stop him from fighting well.

The moment the Bat draws blood, you stalk out of hiding and howl.

Three streetlights explode as you grow to your full, terrifying size. Both the Bat and Jason cover their ears. You slam the Bat down on the ground, claws shredding his cape and suit. You’re furious. You will kill.

One of your claws punctures the Bat’s thigh. He shouts in pain. You’ll tear him apart for making Jason bleed.

Rain beats down on you. You heave over the Bat, shaking with fury. 

“Stop! Fuck, fuck. Stop it!”

Jason pulls at your arm, which is nearly the size of his entire body. His helmet is cracked, his exposed eye bloodshot. That rekindles your anger, but Jason quickly intercepts. 

“Stop, please. It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t kill him, please. Don’t kill.”

“Miiiiii—m—miiii-ine. Mine.”

Jason nods. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it. 

“Yeah, yeah, I am. I’m yours. He’s not gonna take me away from ya. He wouldn’t kill me.”

The Bat coughs, spitting blood. “N-never.”

"Mine," you say, tremulous, blood under your claws. "My Robin."

Jason shakes you. "Yours. I'm yours. C’mon, peach. C’mon, love.”

It would be so easy to end it now. End you and the Bat. And you would do it if you didn’t think it would end Jason too.

His fear is high. You pull your claw out of the Bat, who groans. You let Jason lead you away. He holds your darkness.

“Scaaaar—sc-ared. Scare-d?”

“Yeah,” Jason admits. “Little bit.”

You close your eyes. “Ba-ad.”

“No, honey. You’re not bad. You’re scared.”

You dig your claws into the roof, cracking the concrete. You let yourself shrink, so Jason can wrap his arms around your neck. You don’t trust yourself enough to touch him back. 

He’s crying. Jason is crying.

You pull back a little, so you can see his face. 

“Cr-y,” you say, feeling like weeping yourself. “Cry cr-y c-ry.”

You want to say so much more, but you can’t. Your words are gone. You know Jason doesn’t judge you for that, but you need to tell him. Tell him how you feel.

You lick Jason’s cheeks. They taste like salt and rainwater. You lick more. Lick until he stops crying.

“Son,” the Bat says behind you. 

“‘S okay, B,” Jason says. 

Rain drips down his face and suit. He’s beginning to shiver. You try to shield him as best as you can. 

“We’re okay,” Jason says, this time just to you.

“Sc-scaare—”

“No, no. Hey, peach. ‘M not scared. Y’hear me?”

You slowly drape your arms over Jason’s back. He strokes your wrist that droops and stretches unnaturally. 

“Yeah. You know me. I’ve never been afraid of the dark.”

[god-monsters]

Gun Park x Reader: Early morning

Masterlist

Every morning, your alarm rings and you spring out of bed with a pep in your step that bemuses even Gun.

However, these last few weeks he has seen your energy slowly deflate. Burning the candle at both ends with your deadlines. Long nights and early mornings accumulating, taking a toll on you both mentally and physically.

The first warning sign was yesterday evening, when you collapsed in bed as soon as you got in, and slept like the dead throughout the night.

Not even a kiss hello, Gun thinks as he shakes his head at your sleeping form, instant lights out as soon as you laid down. Nevertheless, he bends down to press his lips to your forehead and continues on with his evening alone.

The second and third is you hitting the snooze button.

This never happens.

"It's my superpower," you had teased the first morning you had woken up together.

(A lifetime of Gun having to sleep with one eye open means he usually wakes with you too, though he never minds.)

The final sign is you climbing out of the covers, like something out of a horror film, unearthed and unalive. Brain barely with this mortal realm.

When you sit on the side of the bed to reorient yourself, Gun watches you swaying and sighing.

Combined with the bags under your eyes, the slump in your shoulders - it’s all he needs to snake his arm around your waist and pull you back down.

You topple over with surprising little force, hitting the pillow with a gentle 'oof'.

"Stay," Gun mutters, voice rough with sleep and pulling you into his body.

Ah, it really is so tempting. You know you are on the fast track to burnout, but your schedule has been hectic and this morning you need to-

"I've barely seen you lately... I've missed you."

Oh.

If the arm clamped around you and his lips brushing your neck didn't do it, those words definitely did.

You give in.

What’s one morning off in the grand scheme of things anyway.

[cometblaster2070]

the monster high x ever after high crossover movie will FOREVER be my roman empire.

like yeah we got the legend of shadow high and it was a really fun read, but i would've given ANYTHING to have a proper crossover special between these two franchises.

especially because cupid and boo york boo york have established that these two schools do exist in tandem with each other.

we were genuinely ROBBED.

the only downside to this i can think of is that the movie was supposed to be in the style the mh movies were so like, the eah girls would've looked pretty fucking ugly, but that's not important.

[jksprincess10]

Something in the shadows || 5. limbo

Summary: When a girl is found by Ellie just outside of Jackson, covered in what seems to be scratches from a beast, the community realizes that the infected might not be the only monsters out there.

CWs: Dark!Joel, monster!Joel, werewolf!Joel, NOT an omegaverse fic, fated mates, DUBCON, murders, gore, dark and horror themes, overprotective!joel, explicit smut, FMC without a name and a physical description (it's you baby), unspecified age gap, no y/n.

(3k words)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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She woke up to a cold, empty bed. She didn’t know what she had expected from a man like Joel – but part of her was still sad to wake up alone. The only reminders of Joel – bruises on her shoulder and her hips, where he had held her too strongly. As a reminder of her assault, her lip was split, blood had dried on it.

She dressed appropriately and walked slowly to the end of the hallway, where Joel’s room was also empty.

“I think he’s already up, I heard Tommy earlier.” Ellie’s voice startled her.

“Oh, thanks, Ellie.”

The older teen looked at her weirdly, up and down. “No offense, but you look like shit. You okay?”

“Yeah. Rough night… nightmares.” She lied effortlessly.

“Cool. I was just heading to the farm, catch you later.”

And with a last, weird look, the teenager climbed down the stairs. When she was free of her presence, she disappeared into the bathroom. Moving too much hurt.

“You have to tell me what the fuck happened, Joel. You’re scaring me, brother.”

The Tipsy Bison had been condemned when what remained of the bodies had been discovered by Tommy. Joel froze with pure dread as he discovered the bodies. He remembered telling her he would take care of it… and then everything was blurry. He thought he had just… talked to them. But the truth was much, much darker. The boys were disfigured, reduced to pure meat. He couldn’t have done that.

“I don’t know, Tommy.” Joel’s voice was rough, hiding an uncertainty. “I just… I talked to them, okay?”

“Talked to them?!” Tommy responded incredulously. “There is nothing left, Joel.”

The older brother’s hand trailed down his own face as he tried but failed to remember. There was a big gap between the moment where had taken care of her, then had come home to fuck her.

“This can’t be me. Do ya think I’m… I’m some sort of monster? Do ya think I could’ve hurt her and then take her into my own goddamn home?”

They had both done bad things in the past to survive but this – this has taken the cake of absurdity. 

“Okay, okay, I believe you.” Tommy stopped him, his hands before him like an offering of peace. “But now, ya gotta help me clean up this fucking mess, Joel. And I won’t tell anyone about this. Because they probably deserved it.”

“What happened to you?”  Elaine asked once her new friend arrived at the laundry place, letting her bucket of water fall as her mouth opened in horror. She ran up to her, her delicate and pale hands brushing where the skin had broken. The woman jumped at the unexpected touch, but she smiled as much as her split lip allowed.

“Don’t worry. Just… got into a fight.” She gave some of the truth, sparse, breadcrumbs in the forest of her mind.  She saw the mess of water. “Let me help you clean up before anyone gets hurt.”

 While they worked, they talked. Elaine, like last time, did most of the talking. But she could see something was off with her new friend.

“What’s going on with you, sweetheart? I know it must be hard for you to trust people around here but… you can tell me anything.” Elaine had the empathy of a good mother. The kind who would take you in her arms and waited until you stopped crying. The kind she probably had before.

“It’s just… men.”

The woman with the auburn hair hummed knowingly. “Miller?”

She shrugged in response, so Elaine did not push. But she knew.

“I’m just… disappointed. I got what I thought I wanted. But I’m just left… even lonelier somehow.”

“You’re gonna have to stop speaking in riddles if you want my help.” There was no bite behind her words,

“We… had sex, yesterday. I thought we had something going on, but I woke up completely alone.” Her voice was lower, so she wouldn’t attract the local gossipers.

“Mmh. I see. Sometimes… men just need space to sort out their feelings. I wouldn’t worry much about it. Is he the one who…?” She asked as she pointed to her lip.

“Oh god no, he would never… hurt me. I don’t think so.”

But he had hurt her before, hadn’t he?

He was washing away the gore and the blood from his body, but somehow, even as the red liquid flushed down the drain, he didn’t feel cleaner. The beast was dirty, and right now, in the most inappropriate of times, it still wanted. He had left her side this morning, partly because he wanted to let her sleep in, and partly because he was afraid of what he could do to her once the want came back.  Would he hurt her to take what he wanted?

He heard the door open downstairs. She was probably done with her work. He chased the bad thoughts away as he dried himself and got dressed in dark washed jeans, a discolored shirt that was probably black in another life and a flannel that he buttoned almost all the way to the top, leaving two buttons popped open.

Joel climbed down the stairs quietly, and he cleared his throat awkwardly when he found her in the kitchen.

“Oh, Joel.”

He was overly aware of her body language, of the way she jumped slightly at his voice. “M’sorry, didn’t wanna scare ya…” His palm caressed the back of his neck as he approached her.

“I just… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me after yesterday.”

“What? God… no.” He groaned in frustration. “Listen, I’m very bad at this.” So bad that he couldn’t even tell Tess he loved her, even when she was turning in front of his eyes. “But it has nothing to do with you or what happened yesterday.”

“Okay…” He eyed the way she balanced herself from one leg to the other nervously. “I… when you said you would take care of the guys yesterday, what did you mean?” She asked suddenly.

Something primal in him wanted him to tell her everything. But she would be horrified. So, he did what he did best. He lied.

“I was gonna talk to them… but the poor bastards were already dead when I got to them.”

“Do you think it’s…whatever hurt me?” She asked worriedly as her fingers traced the scar across her face.

He hummed in response. “But… you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of. I got ya okay?”

And with her bright, innocent eyes, he could see that she believed him completely. She approached him with more confidence now, and her hands laid on his shoulders as her eyes traced his lips.

“Joel… thank you.” She brought her face to the older man’s level and latched her lips onto his. It lit the fire in him, as his hands trailed down her body to hold her hips. He pressed her against his body tightly, and he could already feel himself getting hard. He was insatiable when it came to her.

She let go of his lips with a sweet smile, knowing the way his body reacted to hers. “Come to the winter ball with me. Please.”

“Yeah… okay. I’ll go.” She felt his hands on her ass, and he lifted her up to leave her on the counter. His lips trailed down her jaw, the soft skin of her throat. She smelled so intoxicatingly good, with a mixture of her and… him still somewhere on her body.

“Wait… Is Ellie coming back…?”

“Will be gone all day. Said she’d meet with a friend after work.” He mumbled back, his teeth sucking a bruise into her skin, before he soothed it with his tongue. She moaned in response, her body arching to get closer to him.

“O-Okay.” She’d thought Joel wouldn’t have much of a libido due to his age, but he seemed like he couldn’t get enough, and she couldn’t complain about it. He unzipped her pants as fast as he could before his hand sneaked in her wet panties.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about this pussy.” Joel growled, his fingers already tracing fast circles on her swollen bud. The top of her body fell against his chest, and he held her with his free hand.

“S’yours Joel, all yours.” She slurred, already drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah?” He breathed against her skin. “Good fuckin’ girl.” 

With his fingers, he pushed her over the edge abruptly and embarrassingly quickly, and she let out a load moan as she came in her panties.

“Fuck, come here.” He lifted her and brought her with him, as he sat down on one of the dining chairs. “Need to be inside you.” He hastily undid his belt and freed his member, before pulling her bottoms off. He held the base of his cock so it would sit upright, and with his free hand, he pulled her down on it in a slow movement.

“Joel…” She whined weakly, letting the sound die against his lips.

“Hurts?” He asked as he felt her tight heat more and more. When she was sat still on him, he waited, his hand caressing her hips, where he had left bruises the night before.

“Hurts in a good way.”

Joel cursed under his breath as he guided her hips up and down his thickness, his half-lidded eyes looking at her in wonder. “Look at me.”

When she opened her eyes and looked at his, there was this bestial glint in his gaze that she had seen before. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out as she bounced up and down his dick.

“Yeah, that’s it. Keep goin’.” She felt a harsh slap on her butt cheek that was swollen from the night before, which made her yelp. His fingers then came down to her clit, where he teased her. “Come on my dick.” He ordered in the shell of her ear, before biting her lobe.

His name fell from her lips as he caressed her clit with a purpose, making her gush around his cock and choke him deliciously.

“Atta girl.” She was turning limp in his grasp, so he started thrusting his hips up, giving her a break. He could feel his eyes roll in the back of his head, she just felt too good. She felt… right.  “M’so fucking close, darlin’.”

“Come in my mouth, please…” She begged, and she was already getting off him to fall on her knees in front of his legs. “Please Joel.”

He held the back of her head as he guided his throbbing length in her warm mouth. He kept her in place as he thrusted between her lips. She could feel herself gag, so she breathed through her nose and let the tears fall as he finally came into her throat. Joel pulled her away to let her breathe, and his calloused fingers chased the tears away.

“Thank you for that, darlin’.” He said as he caught his breath again. He caressed her head affectionately, before pulling her up on his lap to kiss her with a newly found softness. For once, the beast felt sated. Calm.

Days later, she stood in front of the mirror behind her bedroom door, uncertain of her choice. The dress fitted perfectly; it accentuated every curve of her body. The color, a blue that was almost white, looked so soft on her. The fabric had a nice sheen to it, that caught the candlelight and made her look like a princess. Elaine had helped her find it, and she was extremely happy to have a friend here, because she had a feeling she wouldn’t find anyone in her vague memories.

But somehow, she felt self-conscious. Even though Joel proved to be a… passionate lover, to say the least, she feared he would find someone better.

“You ready?” Ellie’s voice called, with a shy knock on the door.

She opened the door and brought Ellie inside, panicking. “Please, be honest with me. How do I look?” She whispered; afraid Joel was listening at the door.

“Damn! You look good. You’re gonna give the old man a heart attack.”

Heat rushed to her face, and she smiled shyly as she finally admired Ellie’s outfit. It wasn’t what she had expected for her, but she wore a dark blue dress shirt and black slacks. It fitted her small frame surprisingly well. Her brown curls were loose on her shoulders.

“Watch your language around the old man, yeah? You look good too.” She caressed the top of Ellie’s head playfully, before grabbing her coat and going out of the room with her.

Joel looked at his broken watch while he waited for the girls. Finally, he heard giggles and their steps coming down. He was going to make a comment on how late they were, but when he saw her… he completely froze. His mouth was half-opened, his eyes bright as he admired her shiny blue dress and the way it caressed the body he had gotten to know so quickly.

He finally looked at Ellie too and the hint of a smile formed on his lips as he saw their outfits were matching. His shirt was two shades lighter, but they basically had the same outfit.

“See? Told you, he’s having a stroke.” Ellie mumbled.

“You look good, kid.” Joel cleared his throat, then took the hand of the woman he desired in his. “And you look… wow.” He couldn’t really say his real thoughts, though. How he wanted to tear that dress off her body and see if her underwear was just as pretty.

“Okay, get a fucking room, I’m leaving without you.” Ellie rolled her eyes.

Of course, it had been hard to keep their relationship hidden as Joel always wanted to jump in her pants. Ellie had guessed it pretty quickly.

“No, no. We’re leaving.” She responded with an embarrassed smile.

The room was decorated beautifully in whites and blues, making the green of the natural Christmas tree and the colorful lights really pop. It seemed like the whole community of Jackson was present, and she felt a bit intimidated.

Two men shone by their absence, though. The two who had ambushed her and bruised her. She felt uneasy, as she wondered who had murdered them. Of course, in the deep pits of her gut, she knew who did it. She just didn’t want to give more reasons for her brain to shout “Run”.

On the dance floor, she saw Elaine and her husband. She looked beautiful with her auburn hair in a high bun, two pieces of hair framing her face. They exchanged shy movements of their hands as a salutation, from afar.

She always stayed close to Joel, but the man really seemed out of place. He kept to himself, drinking, and keeping an eye on Ellie, who was dancing with a pretty girl.

“Come on, dance with me, Joel. You won’t stay here moping around all night.”

She extended her hand to him, and he tried to look annoyed as he took it, with a grumbling “fine”.

 The music slowed down, and she wrapped her hands around Joel’s broad shoulders, as his palms embraced her lower back. Her skin, even though she was fully dressed, felt like fire against his hands. He wanted to ruin her.

She admired his face with a smile, noting how his messy curls were slightly slicked back with gel. He looked good, like this. In another life, instead of a survivalist… maybe that’s what he would have looked like as a serious businessman.

“You’re handsome.” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.

He grinned, the corners of his beautiful eyes forming lines that showed his age. “And you look like a fuckin’ angel.” His lips brushed her lobe as he whispered: “But we both know how you ain’t one, huh?”

Her cheeks heated up as she was reminded of how well he took care of her. She felt that constant pull and want with Joel, her lust never truly filled.

“Follow me, angel.” Joel ordered in a soft voice, his darkening eyes reading her easily.

He locked the bathroom door, and he sat her on the large edge of the sink, before going down to his knees like he was about to worship her. His body protested for a bit, the crack of his bones reminding him of his age. But he didn’t care.

“Makin’ me crazy, lookin’ like this. Want to spend every minute inside ya.” Joel growled as he kissed up her ankle, her leg, her thigh. He sucked and bit the sensitive skin there to remind her who she belonged too.

She let out a sigh of his name, her back arching as he got closer to his target. He helped her pull up the skirt of her dress until she was bare. Her pussy was covered by delicate white lace that was already wet.

“Shouldn’t even have bother to put anythin’ down there, darlin’.”

His rough hands pulled at the fabric until it ripped. She gasped.

“Joel!”

“What’s under is much prettier.” He shushed her and opened her thighs for him. He cursed under his breath as he dove in, the tip of his tongue collecting the wetness already pooling out of her hole. She was already squirming, still sensitive from the way he had fucked her that morning. His wet muscle went back to the top, effortlessly uncovering her clit to put pressure there. He licked, sucked, caressed at the bundle of nerves, until she whimpered, and he felt more nectar coming out of her.

“J-Joel, touch me, please…” She begged as one of her hands grabbed on to his gelled down curls as if to anchor herself so she wouldn’t drown just yet.

He groaned against her pussy, the vibrations giving her even more stimulation as one of his fingers breached her entrance. It was so thick, already filling her up just right as he kept sucking harder at her clit. He plunged his finger deeper until he curled it against that spongy part that he knew made her see stars.

“F-Fuck, please, please, I’m so fucking close….”

“C’mon baby, wet my face.” He mumbled against her, before putting more pressure on his tongue. He felt her grip on his hair strengthen, he heard her heartbeat faster as she came undone, gushing on his face beautifully. He ate her out through it all, until she pushed him away.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” Joel got up slowly, crowding her against the sink as leaned in to kiss her deeply.

 She moaned against his mouth, and she was about to unclasp his belt, until insistent knocks on the door made her stop. She came back to reality slowly, realizing where they were. Embarrassed, she pulled her dress down and got out of the bathroom. She vaguely heard Joel asking her to wait, but she knew their alone time was up.

Mortified, Elaine stood in front of them.

“Oh, hi.” Her mischievous eyes told her she knew what was going on. “I wanted to talk to you, what a coincidence.” She also acknowledged Joel with a polite nod, who cleared his throat and made up some excuse about going to see if Ellie was okay. Elaine pulled her into the now empty bathroom and closed the door, before taking out a small brown bag out of her purse. She looked at her friend, confused, as she took the bag.

“It’s a tea based on a flower that has contraceptive properties. Drink it once a week, and you’ll be fine. Indigenous women used it to prevent pregnancies. I’ve been meaning to give it to you, but I didn’t see you much these days…”

“O-Oh. Thank you.” Her slick still sticking to her thighs reminded her of how much she needed this.

“You’re welcome.” With a wink, Elaine let her leave.

She hid the bag in her purse, embarrassed that she got caught with Joel, and she went back to the main event. Her eyes looked for him, but it was too crowded. Instead, she found Tommy, Joel’s brother. The younger man looked beautiful; his longer hair tied in a low bun. He wore a blinding white shirt and dark blue pants.

“Oh, hey! I hope you’re liking the party.” He told her loud enough for her to hear.

Awkwardly, she got closer to hear him better. “Yeah… it’s nice. Do you do that every year?”

“Yup, it became a tradition. Was my wife’s idea.”

She nodded and thought the conversation was done, but he stopped her by placing a delicate hand on her bare arm. She almost pushed him away, but his eyes were soft and understanding. “Look… I’ve been meaning to talk to you… about Joel.”

“What about Joel?” She asked, trying to look disinterested.

“I’m… worried for your safety. I know my brother well, but he hasn’t been the same for a while now.”

She stayed silent and let him explain, but Joel stopped their conversation by finally finding her. His hand encircled her arm a bit roughly, and he pulled her towards him while flashing a dark glare to his brother. Tommy retreated.

“Chill, Joel. Was just talkin’ to your girl and see if she was enjoyin’ the party.”

“C’mon baby, we’re leaving.” Joel said as he ignored Tommy.

He pulled her into the dark, cold night, before she could protest. She finally gathered the strength to push him away, her big eyes looking up at him in distress.

“Joel, you’re hurting me. And you’re scaring me.”

The older man stopped in his tracks and pivoted his body so he could look at her. Some of his softness was back in his eyes, but still, something dark loomed behind. “M’sorry.”

“Tommy said… you haven’t been the same. What did he mean by that?” She confronted him.

“Ignore him.”

I was gonna talk to them… but the poor bastards were already dead when I got to them. His words flooded her memory.

“Joel, did you kill them? Josh and Kevin?”

Memories hypnotized his brain, like an out of body experience. He was inside the beast, as it destroyed the men.

“I did what was necessary to protect ya.” He responded darkly.

She didn’t know why, but tears drowned her eyes. They had abused her, badly, but she never intended for them to die like that. “Joel… you can’t.”

“Can’t control it. Forgive me, darlin’.”

She watched as he ran back to the house they shared, alone under the falling snowflakes and the moon mocking her.

[diejager]

Cmdr. Philip Graves

Reminder : My blog contains dark/yandere content and have 18+ fanfics, so MDNI with NSFW fics. I also do fluff and angst. All my works are fiction : I don’t own any of the characters I write for; there might be triggering subjects - please see the warnings before reading. None of the gifs or visuals I use in my fics are mine.

Your consumption of media is your responsibility and yours alone.

Nav  | CoD

[dark, fluff, yandere, nsfw(*), angst, request]

[nothing yet]

Shackled* | d

Philip wanted to try out a fantasy of his and, as the doting and loving partner, you complied to his wishes.

Ma’am* | r,f

[corruptpixel]

THE POOR TREE😢

[hareofhrair]

A Shadow In The Room - Shadow Creature x Fem OC 2POV

Reposting some of my old terato/xeno stories from back before the porn ban! This was a request for a shadow person boyfriend. eh, it's alright.

You've had a long day at work, but your shadow person boyfriend is there to make you feel better.

You can find more of my work on my Patreon!

Tags and Content Warnings: Established Relationship, Consensual, Shadow Person, m/f

You knew he’d be there the minute you shouldered the door open, exhausted from work and dragging your feet. The moment you crossed the threshold your skin prickled and the scent of damp earth and cool water filled your nose. There was a kind of chill in the air that followed him, a scent like darkness and rotting leaves. You’d found him out in the deep woods and no matter where he went now the air of the forest at night followed him.

Sure enough, you’d barely let the door close fully behind you before you felt his arms close around you from behind, pulling you against his broad, solid chest. You felt his lips, then his teeth at your throat, and his hands over your stomach, wrinkling the fabric of your work shirt. His skin was cold, his teeth sharp. His hands were deep, midnight blue and shaped like no human who’d ever lived, long and curved like dark talons. That was the most you ever saw of him. He was always behind you, that living shadow. You saw glimpses, glowing eyes in the dark, horns sometimes- but never more, not even after all the time you’d been together.

You weren’t sure if you could rightly call it a relationship. Certainly, he had his way with you often enough. You could feel him now, hard already against you, grinding into your backside. But you knew so little about him. You stumbled across him that night in the woods and made a joke in a shaking voice because you’d never had the most rational responses to fear. He’d laughed, and you’d kept talking because you thought it was all that was keeping you alive. He’d let you go, and a week later he’d been in your kitchen, wanting to talk again. And gradually, over these periodical visits, you’d stopped being afraid, realizing he was just bored or lonely, not there to kill you. And after a while he’d started talking back, telling you stories about years in the shadows, a strange life you couldn’t quite conceive of. He never gave you the full story, just bits and pieces, like your glimpses of his appearance. You weren’t sure if he didn’t trust you or if remaining always obscured was a condition of his existence. Both seemed equally possible.

Eventually, one lonely night, he’d touched you and your relationship had taken this unusual turn. You were hardly complaining. Except that now he was pulling away, leaving your skin even colder than his chilly touch. You knew better than to turn back to look at him. He’d know you were pouting without you having to. You felt the ghost of his kiss on the back of your neck.

“Go and bathe,” he said. “The outside world clings to you. I want to smell your skin.”

You laugh. It seems like you’ve been laughing around him since the beginning.

“I would be in there already if you hadn’t decided to jump me at the door,” you said, and you feel his hands on you again, squeezing your backside.

“But then I would not have been able to properly impress on you that you should hurry.”

You laughed again and slipped away from him, hurrying towards the shower. You washed quickly, your thoughts preoccupied with the memory of his hands on you. You were sure he’d be in here with you if he could, but he hated the bathroom. The lights were too bright and he despised mirrors. So you rushed, the exhaustion of the workday forgotten. His visits had been rare these past few months. You’d been tied up at work and he was always preoccupied around this time of year when “the burden of the ancient weird is commended once again upon my shoulders,” or so he said, whatever that meant. His language tended to get increasingly formal and archaic when he was being evasive. Regardless, it had been more than a week and you were eager to feel his touch again.

You scrubbed at your hair with a towel quickly, considered taking a moment to put it up or throw on some eyeliner. But you knew he wouldn’t care. Appearances were beneath his concern. It was a relief sometimes to remember that he would never judge you for not caring enough to shave your legs or enjoying cupcakes more than jogging.

You forwent clothes entirely and dropped your towel at the bathroom door, barely taking two steps towards the bed before he was behind you, sweeping you off your feet in a flurry of shadows. You felt the chill of him against your back as your face met the cool sheets of your bed. His kisses, chilly and sharp with the scrape of his teeth, roll down your spine like a shiver. His hand is on the back of your head, and another on your hip, keeping you in the position he likes best. There are other hands, because of course he has others, on your thighs, your wrists and ankles, running nails over your ribs. He only seems to have one mouth from what you can tell however, and mores the pity, because it’s slipped over the curve of your ass now to press cold against your burning lips. His tongue slips through your folds like a chip of ice and makes you gasp for more than one reason. It’s a good thing you always enjoyed temperature play. He can’t help being cold as a winter night. He says, in his sentimental moments, that you melt him.

You grip the sheets and muffle your moans as he teases you, icy tongue and cold fingers working you up to the edge of what you can stand. When he feels you shaking one of his hands takes your throat and pulls your head back so that he can hear your hoarse cries as he finishes you. His cool hands rub circles over your shoulders and thighs as you come down, head spinning. He’s patient as the night, and he waits until your breathing evens and you begin rocking back into his touch before you feel him loom over you.

He slides against your lips, cold and stark against your heat. For a moment he only rolls against you, making you wait, until you’re almost desperate to feel him inside you. When at last he presses in, he’s so cold it almost burns, but you love it. He cools your fever as he spreads you open with a cock that is never quite the same size or shape, that changes every time you’re distracted by his hand on your clit or his lips on your throat.

It’s frantic at first, as it usually is. He seems to have a hard time holding back when he first gets inside you, and the rapid, pounding pace quickly dissolves any self-control you had either. But just when you think you’re close to your limit, he pulls back. His movements slow, his once wild thrusts becoming long, lingering slides, grinding deep within you, taking his time, drawing it out. You love this part the most, when he’s tender with you, even though you know it’s not in his nature. You ache, desperate to return to the peak you’d so nearly achieved, but you’d never rush him, not when he’s laying cold kisses on your neck and rolling his hips against you that way, more hands than you can keep track of drawing soothing circles over your skin. When he takes you like this, it feels like you’re coming apart at the seams, just puzzle pieces in his hands. You love him in these moments, though you’ve never said the words. Neither has he, though you suspect sometimes. You think he knows, despite your silence. You hope he knows.

He begins to pick up speed again, though he remains gentle. He’s close, and you shake, tightening around him. Suddenly, you feel a cool touch over your eyes. You’d had them closed anyway, but now you sense only darkness beyond your closed lids. You feel his hand on your hip, turning you over. You gasp, reach out to stop him. Visions of Cupid and Psyche come to mind. You fear seeing him, not because of his appearance, but because not seeing him has become some kind of nebulous rule of this arrangement and you fear breaking it means losing him.

But the cool hand remains over your eyes, blinding you. He turns you on to your back and you feel suddenly exposed in this position, vulnerable, your feelings and insecurities bared to him. He kisses you, deeply and properly. You don’t think he’s ever kissed you on the mouth before. You accept his kisses with the fervor of a worshiper and feel him slide back into you, rocking into you with quick, short strokes while you discover the cool darkness of his mouth, the icy clarity of his tongue. Another tiny fragment of him, a gift. You remember the Blind Men and the Elephant, putting together the shape of a living thing from small pieces. Your head is full of stories tonight. Full of him. You don’t mind if you never see all of him at once. Everything he’s willing to give you is more than enough.

You feel him pulse and swell within you and you wrap your arms around something like shoulders, press your face to something like his chest, feel fur against your cheek and scales under your fingers and feathers brushing the trembling skin of your stomach. The disparate pieces of him seem further apart than ever. Have you done this to him? Scrambled him this way? You don’t think he minds. He moves faster, pulling your mind back to the present as he squeezes your hips and buries himself deep within you. You feel a coldness like ice spill within you and you shiver and smile. He stays within you, rubbing his thumb over your clit, until he feels you tighten around him again and tip over the precipice of your own orgasm. Your darkened vision goes briefly white as you arch up into his touch and come down shaking and dizzy.

He doesn’t usually linger long beside you in bed, though he often waits just beyond it, sharing idle conversation while you recover if not his touch. But tonight when he pulls away from you, what he left inside you becoming frost on your thighs and melting away, he lays down beside you. You roll onto your side and he presses into your back, his favorite place. His arm around you is cold, but all you feel is warmth.

“Did you know I used to be afraid of the dark,” you said, laying your hand over his. “When I was little. It terrified me not to know what might be there in the room with me.”

“And now?” he asks, his grip loosening a little, as though afraid he is about to have to let go.

“Now?” You consider your words carefully for a moment, but his chest against your back makes you feel bold. “Now, if you asked me to, I might blind myself to be with you.”

He holds you tighter, and for a moment you think you might feel the whole of him pressed against you. Not just the part touching your back, but far beyond it, more than your eyes would ever be able to understand. He’s as vast and unknowable as a forest from the dawn of history, where some ancestor of yours might have stood on the edges, looking into that deep unfathomable darkness. What might you have felt, looking at an ocean of trees that have been growing since before your earliest ancestors walked the earth? Since the moments when what we might tentatively call a tree first came into existence? The first forest, untouched. That’s what he is to you. The spirit of that lost place, untouched by time.

“You would regret it,” he says. “The novelty would wither with time and you would resent me for taking you from the light. In the darkness, you would only see all the other lives you might have lived.”

“Maybe,” you agree. “I think that happens to everyone eventually, though. I think that’s just getting older. Working through it is part of being alive.”

“It’s not a part I’m familiar with,” he confesses.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure him, and bring his hand to your lips to kiss the backs of his cold black fingers. “We have all the time in the world.”

[catchingdaydreams]

[Un]welcomed Guest

Shadow Miguel x Reader

Chp 1 Lost His Ways

You didn't mean to get lost in the woods that weekend camping trip with your college friends. And you certainly didn't mean to bring back an unwelcomed guest. But from then, wherever you go, you now have two shadows following you.

Warnings: Murder, Drug use, Slight mentions of depression

[10 Years Ago]

As two cars pull up along the beach of an emerald lake, a group of conspicuous looking men step out. A gruntled yet muffed shout came from the back of one of their trunk , only to grow louder as they opened.

"Line him up over there", one of the men demanded. Grabbing the bound males body before chucking him onto the rough gravel. A low yelp of pain erupted from the male as the rocks dug into his skin. Coming to his bearings the man gets up into his knees, his blind fold losed from the the fall. His burgundy hued glare was calculated, filled with hatred and wrath towards the unopened car in front of him.

One of the men opened said door, reviling a rather slimming gentleman in white, doaned in gold rings and a chain. He ignored the man's gaze in front of him as he lit a cigarette, breathing in only to let out a wheezy cough. Whether it was years of smoking or the coldness of this winter morning, it didn't matter, his voice carried a raspy undertone as he spoke.

"Mike, Mike, Mike", he repeated, taking a drag once more before he continued." Or should I say Miguel O'Hara, am I correct?". The gentleman finally meets Miguels gaze. Seeking some form of gratification from a surprise reaction, however was challenged by his unwavering cold stare.

The gentleman tisked.

"Miguel O'Hara, by day a renowned geneticist at alchemax, by night you steal their very own rapture and sell it directly to our...'goods and services". The man waffles as he begins to walk round Miguel slowly.

"It was simply a story to follow, so simple Miguel".

"But that was until you decided to change scripts on us and sell those shitting contaminated knockoffs!" He yells, flicking his cig at the tanned males face. The gentleman finally meets back to face Miguel, crouching down to meet at eye level.

"Can't have my clients dropping dead so quickly, really put at dint with my mens numbers too."

" But I like you Migs, I really do. It would be ashamed to get rid of such a valuable young man like yourself. And what if a few people ended up as food for the rats, it's just business" He chuckles.

He placed his hand on Miguel's shoulder as he continued.

"whatever "this" is can easily go away you know. You can go back and keep retelling your same story over and over for us. If you only just tell me where the real drungs are." The man firmly gripped onto Miguel shoulder, nails digging in just enough to give pain through his shirt. Yet Migs cold gaze continues to remain.

"Tell me, cause as lord as my witness I know you still have them. Where's the real rapture".

"Go.To.Hell" Miguel spits with venom.

"Oh believe me I'll be there soon" Then weakly laughs, before coming to a coughing fit. But he manages to recollect himself. " Ah well then, I actually really hope it would come to this". He smiles wickedly.

For the first time, Miguel broke his facid, confusion crossed his face as an uneasiness begins to fester looking at the man before him.

The gentleman snaps his fingers.

"Boys"

A group of men shuffled through the backseat. Emerging out they cradled a small, limped child. From the moment Miguel first saw her body, he lost it.

"Gabi?, Gab!!!" Miguel shouted as he tried to run to her, but he couldn't even get the chance to stand as two men held him down. Frustrated he grunts and curses bursted out as he called out to her. Yet meet with no response. Not even a stir.

"Let's try this again-"

"What did you do to her you bastard !??" Miguel shouted, tossing and kicking his way free proved frivolous. Merely it served to delight the gentleman. A sadistic grin edged his face. Finally he got to see the fear in the young man who betrayed him.

"She's drugged. Simply asleep at the moment. Don't worry Miguel I ain't that heartless for a child to experience these things. I just need her here to make you more compliant."

His henchmen placed the child into their boss's right arm, while his other hand being free, reaches into his pocket.

"You wouldn't want anything to happen to your daughter. Best not to test me Miguel. My hands... Are shaky with age." He says as he grabs a knife to her neck, pressure applied to her skin yet not enough to slice it.

Miguel frivolous struggle came to a hault. Jaw tensed out of needed compliance, gritting his teeth with a mixture of frustration and worry. He needed to be calm and collective, for his daughters sake.

"Good, good". The boss was pleased at Miguel's commitment to restrain himself. He waited for Miguel's response.

"I don't have them." Miguel says plainly.

"Oh?!" The man says in fake shock, as he flicks the knife as a gesture for Miguel to cut the crap.

"Im telling the truth. I gave you your rapture to your lackies as usual. I didn't cheap you out. Why would I? There's no benefit in double crossing you, every crime lord in this city and the next knows that. Look whatever happened between shipments doesn't concern me, I don't have no control over your men." Miguel tries to reason with him. Though rather poorly. He was never a good at controlling the way he phrase things to make it sounded more sweater or the the other persons liking. He does spend most of his days in his private lab after all.

But Miguel was in fact telling the truth. He never would have thought he would end up as a supplier to a well known underground criminal syndicate. But that all changed when his daughter fell ill. Despite his law biding job paying well, it wasn't enough to cover all her medical costs. He was desperate. Rapture leaking into the market too early anyway, becoming a very popular drug; and so he had to do what he though it was right by any means necessary to save her. But what good did that do. He couldn't protect her from his other life. Despite everything, he never knew it would lead to this.

Whoever double crossed him had to know that he was going to quit this side gig. And no one's quites this. Miguel wanted to leave the cesspool of the city once Gabi was getting better. And had to be sneaky about it. Until the time being, he was stuck being someone's drug mule.

He just hoped the boss believed his words.

It didn't.

"Don't you think I've looked into it on my side. Everyone that day had an alibi. Camera checked. All the sorts. But when I'd looked into you, do you know what I got? Nothing. Causes everything you did that day was wiped off every system. No camera, no signs of transaction. Heck it looked like you didn't even go to your job to even get us our goods Miguel."

All Miguel could do was just stare at the boss, he had nothing to say. What could he have said?

The man signed

"Oh I'm sorry Miguel"

"Para, oh Dios, no, no, no!!"

And just like that, time slowed down for Miguel. To witness the absolute horror no father should experience. To be so utterly helpless in protecting his child.

With one swift motion the man sliced her neck, blood spewing along skin, dripping pearls down onto the ground.

"Gabi !" Miguel cried. He tried to, anything, to go to her. He struggled. He tugged against his constraints as well as the men holding him down. But it only lead to gravel being kicked around. She was just out of reach.

"But really this is all your fault". The gentleman drops her limp body without a care. She tumbled over, landing a few meters before her father. Whatever universal grace Miguel got in this situation was that her face was shielded away from his sight. He never got to see her tears.

His body trembled as he slumped down. Not once did he took his eyes off her. His own heart beat drums out the wheezing laughter from her killer.

A million thoughts traveled his head in a matter of seconds. 'He should have never got into this business'. ' Who double crossed him'. 'Why did they have to kill her?' 'Shes innocent'.

'Its all his fault'

'Its his fault'

'Its his fault'

'ITS HIS FAULT'

"Get on with it then" He says in defeat.

"Oh no no Miguel, I won't be so merciful with you." He says as one of his henchmen delivers a brief case.

Opening it he reveals a large injecting gun filled with cloudy green liquid. He flicks the gun, looking at the way the liquid sloshes back and forth, before meeting back to Miguel gaze.

"I think you know what this is." He snarks as he walks up to his defeated form and stabs is arm. Miguel does not retaliate, why should he. He lost the very thing he cherished the most. There's no point in trying to escape when he has no need to live anymore.

Miguel hisses from the jap as the green liquid drains from the syringe into his veins. Almost instantly the effects take affect. Miguels heart rate increases as his breaths get shorter and shorter, as if lungs were clogged. The boss signaled his henchmen to let go of him. There was no need to restrain him, the scorching heat burning throughout his body cause him to curl in pain. An agonizing screams spewed out amongst his gasps. The agony felt like hours but carried out in just minutes.

As his vision was going black, barely, just barely he glaces at his daughter that lays beside him on the gravel.

"Ga-gabi." He whispers.

Whatever little strength he had left he used it to drag his weakening body across the dirt. With each movement the serum flowed through his blood stream faster, burning his insides. But he did not care.

"Lo siento mi hija".

He manages to reach out, shaking fingers ghosts her hand, trying all his might to hold onto hers. But his strength wasn't enough.

He remained holding her hand.

Until his spark finally burned out.

"How touching" The gentleman sneared as he wiped the blood off the knife with a handkerchief before waking back to his car.

"What should be do with the bodies, boss" one of his men questioned.

"Tisk, dump them in the lake for all I care, just make it look like a bloody accident." He waved off.

This was not how the story was supposed to go but I like a bit of a back story for our sad spooky guy. I haven't proof read this so I'll re-edit once I push out a few chapters. The next chapter will be reader centric. If you have any ideas how you want the story to go feel free to suggest it, I like sharing ideas and providing a different view on things.

Thanks for reading!!

[gothmothfox]

gave myself a break from drawing the intricate details of his drippy outfit...

[starry-eyed-psychopomp]

Whoever decided to kill David 4 books too early, your days are numbered bitch

[vendettasfanfictioning]

I can forgive Crowley for the hellhounds, for the angel torture, the loopholes in his deals, trying to kill Rowena and Jody, successfully killing off some of the Winchesters' friends too...... but Meg? I don't think I'll forgive him for that. We may have gotten, "save [your brother and] my unicorn." Before Crowley killed her, but at what fucking cost.

This screenshot just popped into my Pinterest feed today and I am losing it.

[buglism]

Fandoms / others

“Welcome user; access granted, loading menu”

Sebastian Solace, Pressure (roblox)

What we do in the shadows (TV show)

Undertale (and some AUs)

Monsters (aliens, ghosts, demons, orcs, vampires, etc!)

OFF by mortis ghost

Dead By Daylight (Survivors & Killers)

Valorant <3 (all of them!)

L o a d i n g . . .

L o a d i n g . . .

L o a d i n g . . .

L o a d i n g . . .

This will be updated when need be

[mgrfp]

Monster Girl Romance Fiction Prompt #104

You meet a nice girl at the bowling alley and make a date. Unfortunately she looks like an off-putting featureless shadow when she's not under a blacklight.

[choices-and-voices]

The Most Iconic Reunion, Part 1/4