#snatcher x your soul

[medys-space]

Noodle posting hours~

[lilmarshie]

Stay With Me (Pt. 1) | S. Snape x Reader

A/N - This is an angsty Snape x Reader fic that contains warnings such as an attack on the reader and mentions of being in a coma. I was only going to make this an imagine but with the way that this is going I might have to make two parts so stay tuned.

Y/N - your name, H/C - hair color

You had loved Severus Snape ever since you started teaching at Hogwarts four years ago. You taught Defense Against the Dark Arts and Snape knew that you loved what you taught. However, he was jealous that you had gotten the position over him. That position didn’t last long though, because eventually you moved on from teaching and became a proud member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Now as a member of the Order, you were assigned to a mission that required you to closely collaborate with Severus. The man who you have loved for years at this point. Little did you know, that Snape was acting as a double agent, and was secretly on your side.

For months now, you have struggled with your feelings for Snape. You constantly had almost painful feelings of longing and loneliness because of how you felt about him. But you knew that however dangerous these feelings were, you knew that he had complex loyalties. Snape was dangerous not only for you but for the other members of the wizarding world as well.

Snape would often come to you during the quiet and vulnerable moments during the missions that you went on. He let his guard down, revealing not only more about his past, but glimpses into his tortured soul. This included the aching regrets that weighed down on him constantly.

You wanted to help Snape realize that he can overcome this trauma. And you were willing to help him, despite his past actions. Days were spent talking things over, comforting him on the cold floor of the room you shared with the other Order members, and being there for him when he needed it.

One night, after a particularly long stretch of helping Snape, you end up confessing your long-held feelings to Snape, who then reacts with a mixture of surprise, anger, and sadness. “I don’t know if I’m capable of being loved the way you want to. I need you to leave and never talk to me again.” Snape snarled in a fit of rage. You stared at him in shock before he turns towards you a flash of light spiraling towards you from his wand. It hits the wall next to you and burns a hole straight through.

You exclaim with a sob, and, race out of the room and out into the cold night. You didn’t know what was wrong with Snape but you knew that you couldn’t stay for your sake and his. Half an hour later, the mission that you and the Order members were on takes a dangerous turn, and, you were hit with a spell from a Snatcher that was on your trail.

It causes life threatening injuries and you are rushed to St. Mungo’s hospital. You are bed bound and placed in a coma for an unknown amount of time. It could be temporary or it could take months and you might never wake up. That’s what truly scared Severus.

He stayed by your side, day after day, not knowing whether or not you would wake up. He stroked your h/c hair as tears spilled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…y/n. I let my pride and stubbornness get in the way of my love for you.” Snape sobbed as he held your hand tightly in his. His fingers rubbing the back of your hand in slow circles. “I always cared for you, love. I just felt undeserving of any sort of happiness. I know now that I was wrong. You have offered me every form of happiness that I know. It’s all thanks to you that I’m where I am now. I love you, y/n. Please stay with me. I can’t lose you.” Snape says, as tears are now falling freely down his face. There’s no use stopping the waves of sadness that have overwhelmed him.

Snape knew that he couldn’t stay here no matter what you would say if you knew that he was even considering leaving. So he left, never to be seen by members of the Order ever again.

[worldgonewrongpod]

Hey y'all- we have officially launched World Gone Wrong! It would mean a ton to me if you would go check out this show- we've have been pouring our heart and soul into it over the past six months.

You can listen on Apple Podcasts or Spotify, or you can search "world gone wrong" wherever you listen to podcasts. MOST IMPORTANTLY- go tell your friends to listen, if you think they'd like the show~ The show is an unapologetic response to the feeling of "every day there is a new disaster"- except in this fictionalized version, the disasters we're dealing with are werewolves, alien body snatchers, time distortions, etc- basically every episode of The X-Files and Supernatural happening at the same time. It's also a celebration of the importance of deep, connected friendships- something we feel doesn't get enough prominence in media. The show stars Michael Turrentine and Hilary Williams- and the first chapter was written by Jessica Best (@idiopathicsmile), and produced and created by Eleanor Hyde and Jeffrey Nils Gardner (@euripidesredux) ~ We're so ABSURDLY lucky to get to work with these wonderful artists- it's been an absolute joy so far. ALSO- we're throwing a party to celebrate! Saturday, April 6 at 8pm! Whiskey Girl Tavern in Andersonville- we'll have the band who played our theme song (Olivia and the Lovers) doing a set, and we'd love to see you!

No cover, good times! Link for rsvp/reminders here: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/world-gone-wrong-launch-party-tickets-856416874927?utm-campaign=social&utm-content=attendeeshare&utm-medium=discovery&utm-term=listing&utm-source=cp&aff=ebdsshcopyurl

[eulalias-haven]

in our wildest dreams.

ㅤ─┈ the hsr characters as your cliché college tropes.

ㅤ─┈ dan heng, jing yuan, & kafka x gender neutral reader. separate.

❪⠀themes : super fluffy & sweet & cliché with a sprinkle of good ‘ol angst❕⠀❫

dan heng. ︎︎⋆ ࣪. ࿔

dan heng, your aloof childhood friend whom you drifted away from. when the two of you were young, dan heng was more friendly and approachable—gentle, as he dressed your wounds from rough housing with the other kids too much. however, a certain incident changed both him and his relationship with you.

you had zero idea why dan heng was much more distant with you; there was even a huge fight between you two, with you desperately trying to seek an answer from your beloved childhood friend. yet the response you sought for couldn’t be found.

the distance between the two of you gradually increased—smiles were hidden from one another, eye contact was avoided, and the physical touch you were once so comfortable with suddenly disappeared. this went on, even after the both of you graduated high school and went on with your separate ways.

separate—until you found out that dan heng is your partner for your lab final project. separate—until dan heng’s gaze finds yours once more, and just like before; all ︎︎those years ago, you feel your heart race. until you realize that dan heng was trying to mend the broken bridge between the two of you, wishing for your smile to be directed towards him once again.

jing yuan. ︎︎⋆ ࣪. ࿔

the untouchable student body president who aces in everything he did. jing yuan was adored and loved by both students and professor’s alike—his plethora of fans were unending, his charm never failing to capture anyone’s heart. until, of course, he met you.

perhaps jing yuan underestimated your way of living; you’re a college student who simply wishes to graduate and find a job, not someone who has the time to fawn over a human being. this is what you tell him—bluntly, before you brush past him, waving at the stunned president; calling out that friendship is still plausible.

it blooms, though. the friendship between the two of you grows into a lovely flower, your bond inseparable. jing yuan found you amusing, and you found him annoying, but in the fondest way possible. jing yuan helped you study, you helped him evade the numerous stalkers. jing yuan helped you in your darkest times, and you held him when the stress took a toll on him, reminding you that despite his achievements and what he presented, jing yuan is still human.

once the two of you graduated—the student body president grinned at you; smile akin to a lion. when asked why, jing yuan will simply laugh, and tell you that now that university is over, he has a chance. a chance for what?

well, a chance to finally make you his, of course. he waited four years for you—and he’s not going to waste any more time, when he could spend his life with you by his side.

kafka. ︎︎⋆ ࣪. ࿔

the life of the party, the famous student who everyone wanted to be friends with. kafka was someone both envied yet loved, who could bring someone into a trance with her honeyed smiles. she was a model student—with high grades and an extensive social circle that extends beyond university itself.

including you; her sheltered “bestfriend”, whose wealthy parents were far too strict and overprotective to the point that it was stifling, especially with someone whose soul was carefree. kafka met you when you were about to throw a heel at a snatcher, who she caught. the moment she handed your bag—designer, brand new, expensive—kafka knew she had to befriend you.

not just because of your wealth; she isn’t some jerk who befriended people because of their social status. (well, for some, that was the case. but not with you; kafka could never lift a finger against you.) but because of that fire within you—that stubborn streak that refused to bow down to your parents, interested her.

she’s the main cause of your escapades that often had your parents grounding you; catching you when you threw yourself off of your balcony, letting your arms wrap around her midsection as the two of you sped through the highway, your cheerful laughter ringing in kafka’s ear, reminding her, once more, that perhaps there is more to life than what it seems.

[renren-006]

Taken | Draco Malfoy x reader

plot: HP: HBP ramble

a/n: I'm watching the Harry Potter movies and I always remember how much I loved Draco when I was younger! here's a little ramble for ya!

You knew what Draco had to do, the task he got assigned. He had not kept it a secret from you, nor the countless other things that happened to him over the summer. His home was infested with death eaters and occasionally the Dark Lord himself. It scared you. The world's fate rested in Harry Potter's hands while yours and Draco's were meant to be stained with sins. That final year at Hogwarts was brutal, the knowledge that Darco was trying to kill the headmaster in any way besides facing him himself and that Harry seemed to have a keen interest in his affairs.

 

You were not a Gryffindor or Ravenclaw student; you were in Hufflepuff. Draco took a liking to you the first year, and you hung around him and his slithering friends. They weren't all bad, and most of their ideologies behind closed doors were different from what they showed. You loved Draco and he loved you. The relationship between you grew in the third year, and now the two of you knew it was the both of you to the end.

When Draco dragged you out of the astronomy tower after his failed attempt to kill the headmaster you knew you were being taken to the lair of the snakes. He had left the hospital wing with you in toe. You watched from behind him while he stood in front of the headmaster.

“Y/N…you joined Draco I see” He said.

“I love him sir” you told the headmaster, “Things are complectated now”

“I can see that. Loyalties are tested. Are you loyal to Voldomort then?”

“No sir. Just Draco”

“Hmm. A solid loyalty” The sarcasm and wonder dripped form the headmaster's voice. You knew he wondered how much you could trust the blond boy before you, but you knew better. Draco was loyal to you, and to his family, but he would do anything to keep you from harm. Staying with Draco was the safest bet for the coming war. When the others arrived, and Snape killed the professor you ran down the stairs with him. He gripped your hand tight, the look of despair and fear present on his face.

This war was going to destory everyone on both sides. 

Living in that home after what happened to Dumbledore was dark. The amount of death eaters and snatchers that travled in and out of the house made you uneasy. You kept yourself hidden behind the Malfoys, glued to Draco's side. With your wand in hand at all times, Draco would tell you to calm down. He was worried, you could see he was conflicted about the choices and path that had laid itself out for him. When you first saw The Dark Lord, you felt your soul hideaway. No one could be happy around him, the only emotion you felt was pure fear.

“Hm I see Draco has brought a girl home,” he said, walking up to you in the former. He held his hand out to you, wanting your left arm. You glanced at Draco, pleading.

“She shouldent take the mark my lord” Draco said stepping to your side, 

“Draco” Lucious hissed

“Calm down Lucious. If the boy wants to be responsible for her then he may” he spoke. “Your wife dosent bare the mark either Lucious, remember i am kind to your women” he told them. His hand outstretch twords you again, shakaly you gave it to him. He examed your hands. “Pureblooded Hufflepuff” he said nodding his head.

Draco stopped in when The Dark Lord walked away. You missed Hogwarts, you missed your life before the war. Your friends were dead or at Hogwarts, and you knew nothing about what Harry Potter was doing. You hopped he figured out how to stop the Dark Lord fast, you wanted the nightmare to end.

[avocado-writing]

notes: this was so much fun!! thank you! people who ask for tltdatsib fics make my heart go 💞💓💗💕💖💘💝

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: T

You’re at the pub which is, secretly, one of your favourite places. There’s nothing like being surrounded by alcohol and a throng of people to make you feel just that little bit more human. To forget you’re an immortal being who death didn’t become and pretend you’re just like every other person here, enjoying a drink and the ambience.

It’s Crowley’s round so you and Aziraphale are sequestered away in your favourite booth, the one that just happened to be free when you walked in. The three of you went to go and see a play earlier so you and Aziraphale are discussing it in great detail, so totally wrapped up in your conversation that you don’t notice someone has begun to lurk.

A cleared throat jolts you both out of the moment and back to reality. A man is smiling down at you in that way English people do where it doesn’t quite reach their eyes. 

“Mr Fell!” he says, enthusiastic and condescending at once, “Just the man I wanted to see. I wanted to check that you’d be voting on Friday about the council’s proposed change to parking permits?”

Aziraphale blinks, blankly. You pick up your wineglass to drain the dregs of it, and as you do whisper: “Mr Brown” just loudly enough for the angel to hear.

“Oh! Right, yes. I’m sure I’ll find time to pop along,” he lies. Mr Brown doesn’t seem to have yet clocked that your husband can be a voracious fibber when he wants to be and seems placated with this, but as he goes to leave he clocks you a bit more thoroughly, especially the way Aziraphale’s hand is perched lovingly on your knee.

“You’re a little bit young for him, aren’t you?”

The absolute brazenness of this statement knocks you for six. Aziraphale’s eyes widen, flabbergasted. All the two of you can do is sit there utterly perplexed.

“I’m sorry?” you manage to choke out. It’s not just that you’re old enough to be his great-to the power of a hundred-grandparent, but that he'd have the gall to say that sentence out loud. Brown sniffs.

“All I’m saying is–”

“Hell-o.”

Crowley’s timing is immaculate. He’s got another two bottles of Zinfandel in his hands and puts them onto your table with a decisive thunk. 

“Can we help you?” If there’s one person who can make that sentence sound like fuck off, it’s Crowley. When Brown doesn’t answer Crowley raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“I was…”

“Because it seems like you’re bothering my spouses while we’re out for a drink, which wouldn’t be very neighbourly of you.”

It’s Mr Brown’s turn to look shocked now, his eyes darting between the three of you.

“Spouses?” 

Crowley wiggles his fingers in front of Brown’s face, his golden wedding band shining in the low light of the pub. 

“Yes, plural. Now, unless you have anything to add to our conversation – which I highly doubt – I think you ought to scuttle back to your little carpet store and remove your nose from other peoples’ business, don’t you?”

Sufficiently cowed, Brown quickly makes his exit with his tail between his legs. Crowley looks over to the pair of you.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just a bit taken aback,” you confess. Aziraphale squeezes your knee.

“Thank you, Crowley,” he says, before turning to you, “I’m so sorry love, I didn’t–”

“Aziraphale, love, there’s nothing to apologise for. I can’t believe that just happened.” You let Crowley top your glass up, take a drink, and then muse: “He is a bit right though.”

“What?”

“Well, I’m, what, two thousand years old? Ish? And you both must be at least six thousand. I suppose you are cradle snatchers.”

They choke on their wine, and you laugh.

-

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @night-affiliate @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe

[greetingfromthedead]

Tempest Wind Masterlist

Through a destined meeting, Vash found you, a lost soul much like himself, under the weirdest of circumstances, and he made a promise to follow you across any desert. That turns out to lead both of you down a path of self-discovery, love, and hurt. Vash's unlucky shadow drives the two of you from one crisis to the next, but there's nothing you can't overcome together.

Tempest Wind is a 18+ Vash x F!Reader fic with some spice, some gore, a bit of action and a lot of fluff, for added flavor there's angst too ofc.

The rating of 18+ comes mainly from the occasional dark themes and not so much of the smuttiness (as those parts are labeled and can be skipped without it really affecting the story).

NB: The content is mostly Trimax canon-typical violence/gore/themes, but I give warnings and summaries for the heavier chapters and smut so you can skip them if you want!

Tags/CW below the cut!

Tags/CW: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Action, Adventure, Slow Burn, Hurt, Emotional Baggage, Reader-Insert, badass female character, Eventual Smut, Healing, Immortality, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Implied/Referenced suicide, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, powers, Mentions of impregnation, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Experimentation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Established Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Tragedy, Protectiveness, Pre-Canon, Canon Universe, Injury, Not Beta Read, POV Alternating, Tenderness, Illnesses, Scars, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Caretaking, During Canon, Creature Vash, Angel Vash, Body Horror, Body Worship, i'm shit at tagging, idk what im doing

COMPLETED: 84 Chapters / 165k words

C1: In Death

C2: Tracking Through the Desert

C3: Acts of Kindness

C4: Night Watch

C5: Birdbrain

C6: A Heavy Heart

C7: Midnight Run

C8: Odd Job

C9: A Wild Beast

C10: Wounds

C11: Laundry Day

C12: Language of Flowers

C13: Unlocked Horrors

C14: Sweet as Sugar

C15: Resemblance of Normality

C16: Taking Out the Trash

C17: Unfamiliar Experiences

C18: Moving On

C19: A Gut Feeling

C20: Gods and Angels

C21: Perfect Morning

C22: Renewed Conviction

C23: Dusty Memory

C24: Unexpected Visitors

C25: Guardian Angel

C26: Calamity J

C27: Playing Doctor

C28: Otherworldly Lullaby

C29: Patchwork

C30: Burn

C31: Towards New Horizons

C32: Stormy Emotions

C33: Tempest

C34: Desert Night

C35: Mayfly of Love

C36: Sign of Appreciation

C37: Plotting

C38: Execution

C39: Hands

C40: Storm Clouds

C41: Truth Unfurled

C42: Ray of Hope

C43: Lucky

C44: Sandstorm

C45: Back in a Lab

C46: Signals

C47: Glimpse of the Past

C48: Nature of Your Being

C49: Irises

C50: Frozen Dream

C51: Spring

C52: Worship

C53: Breakfast

C54: Experimented

C55: United Again

C56: Rest of Eternity

C57: Subject 0325

C58: Project HUMAN

C59: Comfort in Knowledge

C60: First Day of the Future

C61: Puzzle Pieces

C62: Day and Night

C63: Daylight Robbery

C64: Journey to December

C65: Snatchers

C66: Last Calm Breaths

C67: Dark Underworld

C68: Rescue Mission

C69: A Bloody Demon

C70: Time Catches Up

C71: Blame

C72: On to the Next Crisis

C73: Last Night

C74: Goodbye

C75: Fragments

C76: Talk of Love and Peace

C77: Uncanny Valley

C78: Lover's Face

C79: Ghost of You

C80: Happy Birthday

C81: A Paradise for You and Me

C82: Breaking of a Will

C83: Life and Death

C84: Epilogue

Demo Chapters modified into oneshots:

Womanizer - confined spaces affects Vash in a strange way and he has turned on his charm to try and seduce you.

Perfect Morning - domestic fluff, intimacy, mild smuttiness, shy Vash

Festivities - delusional bliss on an unfamiliar planet with weird traditions, ice skating and sweet Vash

Happy Birthday - You find yourself on a furry side quest and it turns into a very special birthday celebration that Vash puts on for you.

Mayfly of Love - Vash is tormented by a nightmare of losing you and his guilt for causing the Great Fall.

Starlight Dancing - Contains some minor spoilers for the main series. You've been spending a lot of time with Luida in her lab and Vash has felt left out because of it. To make up for it, you spend a magical evening in the biodome.

🔞 Burn - basically smuttiness with little actual plot

🔞 Desire - no plot, just porn. Often the quiet and shy ones surprise you...

🔞 Worship - Worshiping each other's bodies (Vash more so), just soft intimacy

You can also read it on other platforms: AO3! Wattpad! Quotev!

Check out my other stuff: MASTERLIST.

[larimar]

vanityfair

Donald Sutherland, whose ability to both charm and unsettle, both reassure and repulse, was amply displayed in scores of film roles as diverse as a laid-back battlefield surgeon in “M*A*S*H,” a ruthless Nazi spy in “Eye of the Needle,” a soulful father in “Ordinary People” and a strutting fascist in “1900,” died on Thursday in Miami. He was 88.

Donald McNichol Sutherland was born on July 17, 1935, in Saint John, a coastal town in New Brunswick. One of three children of Frederick McLae Sutherland, a salesman, and Dorothy (McNichol) Sutherland, a math teacher, Donald lived his formative years in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia.

With his long face, droopy eyes, protruding ears and wolfish smile, the 6-foot-4 Mr. Sutherland was never anyone’s idea of a movie heartthrob. He often recalled that while growing up in eastern Canada, he once asked his mother if he was good-looking, only to be told, “No, but your face has a lot of character.” He recounted how he was once rejected for a film role by a producer who said: “This part calls for a guy-next-door type. You don’t look like you’ve lived next door to anyone.”

Yet across six decades, starting in the early 1960s, he appeared in nearly 200 films and television shows — some years he was in as many as half a dozen movies. “Klute,” “Six Degrees of Separation” and a 1978 remake of “The Invasion of the Body Snatchers” were just a few of his other showcases.

A stalwart actor, Sutherland won an Emmy and a Golden Globe for his performance in the television movie Citizen X, and another Globe for Path to War. His extensive television and film credits include M*A*S*H, Six Degrees of Separation, The Undoing, Trust, Dirty Sexy Money, and The Pillars of the Earth, among many others. In 2017, he received an Academy Honorary Award.

The patriarch of the Sutherland family, Donald is survived by his Emmy-winning son, actor Kiefer Sutherland, as well as veteran CAA Media Finance exec Roeg Sutherland. Sutherland is also survived by his wife Francine Racette; sons Rossif and Angus; daughter Rachel; and four grandchildren. Per Deadline, a private celebration of life will be held by the family.

[katyahina]

Pthumerian eyes

Had a discussion about Chapel Dweller's looks in this reply ( x ), but decided to repost for reference purposes!

1) Pthumerians DO have pupils, and some like Snatchers even have pretty 'normal' eyes!

2) Bell-Ringing Woman's pupils are brighter than her whites, and Church Servant's pupil in the game look pale. Makes me think that some Pthumerians' pupils can reflect light, like cats xD

3) Pitch-black "alien" eyes seem to be specific for the undead Pthumerians that we find in Chalice Dungeons!

4) Whereas pure white eyes of Lost Child of Antiquity are likely a Pthumerian thing (this mob is found in Pthumeru Ihyll and in Cainhurst that descends from Pthumeru Ihyll), Loran Clerics might have had their eyes turned white from blood and beasthood (which you can see happens with humans too). Notice that Loran Clerics do have pupils, they're just blinded now, unlike Pthumerians that have more 'pure' white eyes!

5) Some of those screenshots from the dungeons enemies are fucking spooky, lol

6) I don't know how far gone in being undead/immortal Annalise has gone, but what if under her mask she has the similar spooky look of pitch black eyes and mouth that when open looks like a vacuum to suck in your soul specifically?

7) Do you think Djura started to connect the dots between beasthood and humanity not because he is so damn smart, but because he himself started to face the effects upon losing eye color?

8) Okay I am sidetracking

9) @val-of-the-north provided all these screenshots. Actually in terms of visual references, you guys totally should always ask him first and not me. I am more of text and compilations man, but he is the visual man xd

[snarlesofthesewers]

a taste of poison

snarles x reader part 1 - if there's enough demand maybe ill make a part 2 lol idk i hate writing so it would probably take just as long as this one

a while after landing on this strange planet, finding yourself in the dark and haunting forest known as Subcon a spirit known as snatcher steals your soul and forces you to do his bidding unfortunately for you while working to complete one of snatcher's tasks you end up far deeper in the forest then you should have been and end up in someone else's hunting grounds

after searching for nearly two hours you find yourself running into a small clearing leaves rustling and twigs snapping underfoot as you ran towards the rare flower snatcher had asked you to gather for a certain potion he needed to make what kind of potion? you had no idea but what you did know is that snatcher would probably kill you if you came back empty handed you should have been paying better attention to your surroundings while running you weren't exactly paying attention to anything other then the flower leading to you tripping over a fallen tree and planting your face directly in the cold and wet soil of the forest which definitely woke you up but when you realized just how much noise you had made on the way here you could feel nothing but dread something probably heard you no.. something definitely heard you you quickly wipe the mud from your face and come to your knees scanning the tree line and tuning in your hearing as you slowly get up but you see and hear... nothing nothing but the sound of wind howling between the cracks of broken trees the coast is clear and you are alone so you begin to stand and reproach the flower pulling it from the ground with the roots intact and stashing it somewhere safe for the journey back to snatcher's house but just as you pick it up the smell of something absolutely awful fills your nose its hard to stop yourself from puking and you probably would have if you weren't already so used to the constant smell of death that lays thick in Subcon's air... but this wasn't the usual smell of old decaying bodies this smelled far more ripe where the hell was that smell even coming from? "right behind you that's where~" a small crack and snap can be heard in the treetops above with the faint sound of hissing that transitioned into a shrill and wet sounding cackle that followed soon after you run but you didn't get far before you are promptly pinned to the ground by something far larger then yourself with its claws digging into your shoulders causing fresh blood to trickle down the side of your back and onto the cold wet ground and it was at this very moment that you realized YOU BLEW IT YOU TOTALLY SCREWED YOURSELF!~ you feel the smooth and slimy skin of whatever creature had you pressed against the ground began to coil itself around you like a snake ready to suffocate its prey your mind and body had already started to go numb but before you could pass out you were quickly snapped out of it by a voice... and maybe also the claws still stuck in your shoulders like knives but mostly just the voice

"finally.. fresh meat its been days with not a single soul... I was starting to worry that people had finally gotten smart and started to avoid this wrenched forest~"

"...now then.. how about we get started my lost little mouse~ it would be a real shame if I let fresh meat like you go to waste"

you struggle and struggle and struggle some more attempting to worm your way out of its firm grasp but its no use but if you were going to die you at least wanted to get a good look at whatever was about to kill you so you continued to struggle until you could get a good look at its face even if that meant completely exhausting yourself you catch a glimpse of its soulless yellow eyes flickering

"oh how cute the prey thinks it can escape~? you keep making this easier for me I almost feel bad... maybe the hunger is finally starting to get to me or maybe its just that scent.... wait hold on that scent" they lean in close to your face and just stare at you for what felt like an eternity before uncoiling you and towering above your sore body "is... this some kind of cruel joke?" they hissed in frustration before grabbing you by the leg and pulling you close to their face "no this cant be the case... did his previous contractor kick the bucket already? its only been a week there's no way he's dead already" they drool at the thought of eating the remains of snatchers previous victim even if there's no guarantee he was even dead...yet "well well well~ ...might you be snatcher's newest pet? oh ...don't worry about trying to speak.. I have other ways of finding out~" "my little mouse"

[shanxpennywise]

My Favourite Villains Part 1 - 7 Art Dump (Old Art.)

Villains~

Pennywise (1990)

Pennywise (2017)

Slappy (Goosebumps)

Dr Kamikazi (Robotboy)

Chucky (Child's Play)

Fats (Magic)

Billy (Dead Silence)

N-Gin (Crash Bandicoot)

Hypno (Creepypasta)

King Dice (Cuphead)

Baldi (Baldi's Basics in Education and Learning.)

Zander (Dinosaur King)

Gideon (Gravity Falls)

Sideshow Bob (The Simpsons)

Penguin (The Batman: Animated Series)

Dr Doofenshmirtz (Phineas and Ferb)

Mad Mod (Teen Titans)

Defoe (Huntik: Seekers and Secrets)

Little Ogre (Soul Eater)

Dr Phineus Phibes (Shaggy and Scooby Doo Get a Clue)

Dr Calico (Bolt)

Purple Guy (Five Nights At Freddy's)

Mandark (Dexter's Laboratory)

Evil Rick (Rick and Morty)

Mad Hatter (Batman: Animated Series)

The Major (Hellsing Ultimate)

Danzo (Naruto Shippuden)

Vector (Despicable Me)

Archibald Snatcher (The Boxtrolls)

Frollo (Hunchback of Notredame)

Cedric (Sofia the First)

King Candy (Wreck it Ralph)

Gallaxhar (Monsters VS Aliens)

Jack Spicer (Xaolin Showdown)

Jeffery Hawk (Dead by Daylight)

Akainu (One Piece)

Dr.Maniac (Goosebumps.)

Unwanted House Guest (Creepypasta/Meme.)

Jareth the Goblin King (Labyrinth.)

Dr Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs.)

Syndrome (The Incredibles.)

Dr Eggman (Sonic the Hedgehog.)

Maxie (Pokemon.)

Captain (Armando) Salazzar (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man Tells No Tales.)

The Look-See (Crypt TV's The Look-See.)

Kureo Mado (Tokyo Ghoul.)

Drei (Hiiro No Kakera.)

W.D. Gaster (Undertale.)

Freddy Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street.)

Drago Bludvist (How to Train Your Dragon.)

Claude Faustus (Black Butler.)

Stefano Valentini (Evil Within 2.)

John Bacchus (Future Diary.)

Kisame Hoshigaki (Naruto Shippuden.)

Mayuri Kurotsuchi (Bleach.)

Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter.)

Tighten (Megamind.)

2nd Dimension Dr Heinz Doofenshmirtz (Phineas and Ferb: The Movie.)

Dr.Octopus (Spiderman 2.)

Squilliam (Spongebob Squarepants.)

Mr.Chuckle Teeth (The X-Files.)

Laughing Jack (Creepypasta.)

Weevil Underwood (YU-GI-OH!)

Dr.Herman Carter (Dead By Daylight.)

Babadook (The Babadook.)

The Child Catcher (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.)

Colonel Muska (Studio Ghibli's Laputa Castle.)

Ghetsis (Pokemon.)

The Crooked Man (The Conjuring 2.)

Crocodile (One Piece.)

Danny Dickens (Angels Of Death.)

Kabuto (Naruto Shippuden.)

Yami Marik (YU-GI-OH!)

Byakuran Katekyo (Hitman Reborn.)

Jason The Toymaker (Creepypasta.)

Slenderman (Slenderman: The Movie.)

Igor Neuhaus (Blue Exorcist.)

Captain Kuro (One Piece.)

Guzma (Pokemon.)

Mr.Wood (Goosebumps.)

Professor Venomous (OK K.O. Let's Be Heroes.)

Lyle Tiberius Rourke (Atlantis.)

Faba (Pokemon.)

Petrel (Pokemon.)

Cyrus (Pokemon.)

Lysandre (Pokemon.)

Arlo (Pokemon.)

Evil Dr Phibes (Shaggy and Scooby Doo Get a Clue.)

Papillon (Buso Renkin.)

The Joker (Batman: Animated Series.)

Mr X (Resident Evil.)

Foolscap (Dinosaur King.)

Giovanni (Pokemon.)

Tamatoa (Moana.)

The Toymaker (Harmony & Horror.)

Jean-Louise Bonaparte (Yu-Gi-Oh! GX.)

Benson (Toy Story 4.)

Ed (Dinosaur King.)

Mr Burns (The Simpsons.)

Victor (Boruto.)

Beppi The Clown (Cuphead.)

Scud (Yu-Gi-Oh! The Movie: Pyramid Of Light.)

Sordward (Pokemon SWSH.)

Sheildbert (Pokemon SWSH.)

Sakutaro Morishige (Corpse Party.)

Mr Hook (MAR.)

Malvolio (Twelfth Night Manga.)

Captain Hook (Peter Pan.)

John Ratcliffe (Pocahontas.)

Fagin (BBC's Oliver Twist.)

Jack Randall (Outlander.)

Waluigi (Mario.)

The Toad (Flushed Away.)

Gnauss Wisden (NiNoKuni.)

Orochimaru (Naruto.)

Braz D. Blood (Blood Lad.)

Douman Ashiya (Tokyo Ravens.)

Shidou Dairenji (Tokyo Ravens.)

Dr. Yung (Pokemon: The Mastermind Of The Mirage Pokemon.)

Mr Big (Michael Jackson's Moonwalker.)

Grings Kodai (Pokemon: Zoroark: Master Of Illusions.)

Dick Dastardly (Scooby Doo Movie.)

Greed (Fullmetal Alchemist.)

Hidan (Naruto Shippuden.)

Mandrake (Earwig And The Witch.)

Murder The Clown (Goosebumps.)

Kai Chisaki (My Hero Academia.)

The Grabber (The Black Phone.)

The Gold Watcher (Dark Deception.)

Miroku Yukihiko (Get Backers.)

Sartorius Kumar (Yu-Gi-Oh! GX.)

Schneizel El Britannia (Code Geass.)

Chairman Rose (Pokemon SWSH.)

Koichi Shidou (Highschool Of The Dead.)

The Riddler (Assault On Arkham.)

Sugou Nobuyuki (Sword Art Online.)

The Handsome Young Man (A Tale Dark & Grimm.)

The Pied Piper (Shrek 4.)

Aizen Sosuke (Bleach.)

Demiurge (Overlord.)

I plan on drawing more of my favourite villains at some point.

[peachy-cheeks]

We Still Have Time (arrival)

week: one | two | three | four

word count: 1,390 words

characters: Gojo Satoru x gnc reader; (minor: Ieiri Shoko; Ino Takuma)

warnings: not much... just a little angsty and contains spoilers from Chapter 222

a/n: Special one for the manga readers... Someone else's post recently reminded me of all the characterization and plot development we got in Ch. 222 (angel numberrrr) and gosh... I missed so much on the first read...? Anyway, this takes place in that chapter and since there's a time jump... I'm open to making chapters of this...? We'll see... I also don't even want to speculate on where the manga is going atm... (though... I imagine Yuji might be okay after all... despite evidence showing otherwise... just going off vibes and a feeling :) ...)

There was a bone-aching shiver that ran throughout your body upon hearing that Satoru had made it back alive. Uncaged and solemn... greeting the enemy before all else. Goosebumps and a pinky hue speckled your skin. Your cold, almost clammy, palms sank into the pockets of your pants as you hurriedly walked towards the autopsy room to see for yourself.

You wondered what state he was in; What condition his body was in, of course, but more pressing... what state of mind.

Naturally, Shoko and Kiyotaka would be somewhat comforting faces for him to see relaying the series of events and list of devastating casualties that took place in his relatively short absence. For you, the heartbreak that those three held as witnesses to a timeline of their dwindling peers was unfathomable. While you knew extreme loss in your own way, you were not burdened with the same revocation of friendship, tenderness, and love that they knew... only to be met years later with a body snatcher that aimed to take even more from them. Never mind the generations of stolen youth they've personally contended with and have been tasked to facilitate.

The sound of parallel footsteps coming closer broke your train of thoughts. Looking up from your feet, you caught Takuma's woeful face. Offering a brief, slight smile to greet the younger, a wave of bittersweet knowledge seemingly hit you both.

"He's okay... Ieiri-sensei is there still. I think he's still processing, but I imagine he'll be happy to see you."

So many others weren't okay. Takuma's face still showed shadows of being tragically battered weeks ago. The back of your throat trembled as you nodded.

"Thank you, Ino-kun."

The air took a noticeably cooler turn as you continued on. Heartbeat shaking through your eardrums, you began to peel back the curtain separating the room from the hall.

Shoko, leaning against the stacked morgue freezers, took a final drag of her umpteenth cigarette and sighed. To her right was Satoru, sitting sukhasana, using a gurney as a chilling, makeshift seat. As the ember of her cigarette faded, her gaze shifted from the strong, hunched over figure to your face. She pushed off of the wall and walked towards you.

"I'll leave you both to it."

She could have stayed, but she knew how to take a hint. The shake of your pupils and shine along your waterline did all the pleading you could manage. Shoko swiftly left and with the drop of the curtain you looked towards the shining, blue pools that pierced through your heart and peered directly into your soul. He was there... whole... in one piece. But your feet felt numb and legs unstable. You inched closer to where he sat.

"Hi..."

"Hi."

"You look nervous."

"...You don't look nervous enough."

"Hmph."

A muted chuckle slipped from his pretty lips as he looked down, head tilted in thought. He nearly looked unchanged... like he did when things were... better. Effortlessly beautiful. Almost unbothered. But the collective strife, pain, and terror shared amongst your peers visibly weighed on his slumped shoulders.

His eyes quickly returned to your slowly dampening face, your palm smearing the tears that trickled from the corner of your eye. He wordlessly studied your sorrowful expression, taking a moment to fall into the gentleness and delicate features of your face that he missed.

"I don't mean to... can't help it..."

Your voice was so quiet but frayed with exasperation. The room felt so silent. The cold in the air shot straight to your bones and gnawed deeply at you.

Even sitting up, warm, alive and breathing... you hated seeing him on that stretcher. Letting your hand drop to rub the excess of tears along the cloth of your pants, you figured that allowing the stream to simply fall would help you regain control of your thoughts.

"I'm s—"

"Don't. If you apologize then I'll really have to."

Truthfully, you both knew that an apology wasn't really in order. The need for atonement was out of character for you both. There was no space for regrets, uncertain decisions, or speculation on what should have happened. Victims of circumstance... the unique strengths that brought you both close doubled as targets on your backs. Satoru knew this best, as did you. Haunted creatures responsible for keeping the world upright with little hesitation.

But these desperate moments where no length of explanation... no amount of gentleness... could soften the ache of carnage... these moments dragged across you and Satoru's consciousness reminding you both of every small, even menial detail and decision that led to this moment of deep sorrow.

Maybe you both felt guilty about the accidental distance... maybe this reunion triggered a preemptive need for care, coddling even, before things— out of your control— got worse (again); a chance for you both to get love right this time.

Soft taps of his calloused hand along the nylon gurney brought your focus back to the present.

"Come sit."

You sniffled and carefully hopped onto the surface next to him. Sitting together atop, Satoru took your hand with a firm, confident grasp. His other hand moved to your chin, tilting your face to his. His thumb rubbed your cheek in a soothing motion.

"Hey... no crying. I'm not going anywhere."

Consoling you... even through his own silent grief, past and present... even with the knowledge that the next five weeks could very well be your last together.

"When will you leave again?"

'Again'... the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He knew what you meant but the tinge of sadness in your voice extended to his heart. That was a selfish thing to say. The hand stroking your cheek sweetly swiped your hair away from your face.

"December 24th. There's time..."

You held back a rebuttal of 'Yes...but not enough.' Embarrassed, you resisted the urge to bow... no, bury... your head to avert your eyes.

"Don't start mourning me while I'm still here."

The look in his eyes was patient and loving.

He pulled your head closer to him and kissed your forehead, eventually reaching to take your other hand into his. The physical contact provided a short wash of calm that fell from your head to your toes. He was so much more present than what you had the capacity to be in that moment. But you wanted to at least try.

"How do you feel..."

"Uh... hmm..."

He genuinely stops to think, the permanent cuteness in his face softening the blow of the conversation.

"I've been better. I think I've been runnin' on pure adrenaline..."

A beat.

"If I saw you all before finding Sukuna and... that other fuckin' fraud..."

A beat. Your slowly unclenching demeanor gave him the nod to slip into the level of honesty you two were used to.

"I'm... not sure if I would've come back."

Your hands squeezed his, acknowledging the truth of his emotions. He knew better and you knew that too. He was a smart, resourceful fighter and he was planning on storing his anger and hurt for the right time.

"A lot of shit went wrong..."

"I know. It's not your fault."

"... I appreciate that..."

"It's true."

You struggled to find the words to elaborate as the inklings of guilt and anguish circled the conversation.

"You guys saved me... saved a lot of people... This is all pretty cruel isn't it... our job is kinda the worst."

His face was a bit flushed; ocean eyes damper and softer than usual. In all the raw and unpretty emotion you observed over the years as friends, lovers, and partners, you had never seen Satoru cry.

His hand reluctantly parted from yours to push his hair out of his face giving you a chance to break and collect yourself. You looked towards his heavy fingers still laced around yours.

You wanted to tell him that you were petrified. Horrified for you all, but especially for him. Scared for his life, no matter how invincible he looked or felt. He probably already knew.

The intensity of his stare bore into your spirit; your anxieties and love observed in full with all six eyes. After a few seconds of slow breathing, you raised your view to meet his.

"Satoru... I love you."

"I love you too."

"Make them fucking regret everything."

[thisfanisgonesorry]

Feel free to ignore this request/ Would you write spy x reader having casual sex with him verbally teasing her because of the age gap and her daddy kink 🤧

i am so fucking sorry that it took me so long but i also had NO idea how to start it, to make up for that fact, its rlly fucking long. im not really happy with it but i feel bad if i keep this in drafts any longer. its mostly rlly sweet so i hope it has enough teasing for you. heavily inspired by my heart belongs to daddy + some other songs similar to that. (btw if a hookup kisses your forehead, hes a piece of shit, its only hot when dilfs do it), 

tags: smut duh, hes daddy lol so,, hookup/one night stand. age gap obviously. lightly lolita inspired so its up for interpretation if this is a felony or not. ur getting seduced because,, obviously, maybe a virgin? maybe not? kind of implied ur just inexperienced compared to him, unhappy ending oops, soft sex but he gets a little aggro, panty snatcher 9000

tbh hes hard to write dialogue for but i <3 him. (also i wrote enough dialogue for a part 2 except my brain stopped working so i had to cut it short) (beta didnt read all of it so hopefully its okay)

;;

“You have to admit, it’s a little exciting, no?”

“You could say that.” I grinned anxiously as he held my chin to make me look up at him.

“Not a soul can know about this, ma cherie.” He said, lightly kissing my lips. I leaned softly into his touch as he spoke. “I hope you understand.”

And deep down, it was beyond easy to tell that he meant that in more than one way, almost like he had a handful of reasons to not speak about this, for no one to find out. He could spoon feed any excuse to keep this hush hush.

“Yeah, I know.” I swallowed thickly. “You’re very handsome.” 

“And you are very beautiful.” He smiled.

“Thank you.” I reached up to touch his face, though hesitated because of his mask.

“Go on.” He whispered.

He took my hand in his and placed it against his cheek, the fabric was soft and well cared for, his jawline felt sharp under the touch and I could only imagine what he properly looked like without the damn thing on. The soft fabric enticed me to stroke his cheek softly which he, after a few seconds of processing, leaned into with a soft hum, clearly interested by how much I was mesmerised by such a simple item. The way we paused for this one moment of tenderness.

“Can I take it off?”

“No.” He said somewhat sternly before softening, he stayed in thought momentarily.

My hand left his face, meeting on his shoulders and both hands trailing down the front of his suit, feeling the expensive fabric under my touch. I nodded softly in understanding, though he could sense the disappointment.

“Maybe another time, ma cherie, right now, this is for both of our safety.” His eyebrows knitted together, and it was clear to tell that he wasn’t happy about it either though, admittedly, the idea of there being another time in the future was almost exciting enough to make up for it.

“No, I understand.” I spoke, not telling the entire truth and it was somewhat evident in my voice that it was, in fact, not okay.

“I want this to be wonderful, my dear. Please don’t be upset.”

I looked around his fancy hotel room, not booked for me but it was still an honour to be invited here, the last hour and a half is a blur and all I’d rather focus on is the man over twice my age standing in front of me.

“This is wonderful.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around my torso, pulling me close to him and taking us to a very fancy couch in the large hotel room with a faux fireplace. All we need now is a bearskin rug. We basically flopped onto the couch with little to no grace and I was almost fully prepared for whatever will come next.

A short laugh escaped both of us at the short tumble. He repositioned us to sit somewhat awkwardly with him hovering above me as he began to gently kiss and nip at my neck. I leaned against the armrest, the harsh wood pressing into my back.

“You are... heaven.” He spoke, unsure if he was using the right words as he continued to kiss my flesh softly, despite his hands being harshly digging into my hips. “You are perfection.” He whispered, trailing off slightly, losing himself in his thoughts.

“Y’think so?” I breathed.

“How does it feel to be with a man who wants you?” He lightly teased as his fingers slowly lingered off my hips and under the hem of my dress, bunching it up as his hands returned to their original place.

“It’s intoxicating.” I admitted, saying it almost too quickly.

“You are intoxicating.” He smugly smiled, pressing a strong kiss on my lips. “You like getting drunk on a man’s love.” He began to slowly analyse. God, he must be good at his job.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little, but there’s nobody here but me and you in this big and safe room.”

I felt a little embarrassed by his comments, simply reaching up to unbutton his suit, pulling the tie loose and unbuttoning the white shirt. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it on a nearby chair, letting my hands take their sweet time on undressing him. The mask was bunched around his neck slightly, hanging somewhat loosely around his collarbones which was usually covered by the neckline of his suit.

“You just love feeling desired, don’t you?”

I stared up at him, his words bounced around in my brain like an infection as I continued to unbutton his shirt. “Yes.” I confessed, though he was already well aware.

“A beautiful girl like yourself deserves appreciation.” The way he said ‘girl’ slowly dripped off his tongue and floated in the air. He was mocking me.

“Thank you, daddy.” I acted boldly, dipping my toes in the water as I wrapped my arms loosely around him, his shirt now only halfway unbuttoned.

He froze, completely still, staring down at me with an unreadable face, and all he did for a few moments was stare with a slightly agape mouth before finally letting out a small laugh. 

“That.. was a surprise. You’re really into this. You’re not afraid at all.” He spoke somewhat calmly but with a sense of condescension in his words. We both leaned closer to each other, thoughts running wild.

“C’mon, Daddy.” My lips ghosted over his, my hands trailing down his torso again and landing on his hips, he took a sharp inhale and stared down at me with his half-lidded eyes and a now clenched jaw.

“Merde.” He cursed quietly. “Don’t.”

He quietly snaked his hand around my throat loosely, not applying any pressure but more as a blank threat to stop pushing him and to distance my face slightly away from his.

“I’ll stop.” I lied through my teeth and he furrowed his eyebrows at it, knowing it to be a lie.

His lips twitched, threatening to turn into a smile though he tried to remain stone-faced as he contemplated what I deserved. He kept one hand around my throat as the other stayed glued to my hip, he began rubbing small circles with his thumb as he thought.

“You are in very experienced hands.” He finally said, leaning in to kiss me again.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked sweetly.

“What would you like me to do? What would make you happy?” He spoke slowly with a deep reverence, the way the words fell from his mouth was strangely erotic but you know what they say about french accents.

I took a moment too long to answer, so he freely slid his hands into my panties and felt his way to my clit, much faster than anyone previously. I closed my eyes softly and he could read the surprise written on my face. He began to move slowly, his mouth slightly opening as he watched me keenly.

“God.” I breathed out.

“How do you feel? Do you like being with a man instead of a boy?” He smirked slightly, moving his hand slightly faster and releasing my throat from his grasp. “You must not be used to being treated so kindly, for someone to desire you, to wish to ravish you, to enrapture.” He rambled on, enjoying the view beneath him.

“Never had anything like this before.”

“This is what a real man does. We take care of our women, make sure they’re happy.” He took a shaking breath as he watched every move I made, his hand moved from my throat to gently stroke the side of my face and pet my hair. “We make them feel beautiful, tell me, do you feel beautiful?”

“Yes, I do.” I tried to maintain eye contact and despite the slow pace, he felt really good.

“A mature man does whatever his woman wants.” He hummed. “We have big, strong arms that can hold them up. We can catch them when they fall. Do you enjoy being treated this way, little girl?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He furrowed his eyebrows sternly, despite knowing what would happen when he called me a little girl. It was so clear that it was getting under his skin in such an interesting way, one that I’ve never seen before. “Let me see you.”

I blinked momentarily at his question, which seemed more like a statement, before it clicked. “Oh, yes.” I spoke nervously as I lifted my hips for him. 

He still looked mostly emotionless as he slowly peeled away the black panties and also threw it to the side which will be a bitch to find a little later. He admired it for a moment, both hands on my hips, holding me from squirming away and I felt like shrinking under his gaze. He spat harshly on the view. “Such a pretty chatte, ma petite fille.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled softly as his fingers lowered and rested right there where I needed him, threatening to dip into me, rubbing small circles around the hole. I was clenching around nothing, wanting him inside me, letting out small gasps at the feeling, and he rolled his eyes sarcastically, placing his hand over my mouth as he pushed his long fingers deep inside me. I let out a muffled moan at his actions, staring up at him wide eyed. “Don’t you dare say what you’re thinking.” He said sternly, trying very hard to dissuade me as he slowly lowered his hand, resting it gently around my throat.

I nodded at his words. “Fuck.” I whined. 

“How would you like me to finger you, ma cherie?” I blinked at his question, it was unexpected to hear. He quirked an eyebrow before rolling his eyes again. “Do I need to show you?”

“Yes.” I responded, slightly embarrassed. He switched between two distinct styles then tilted his head for a response. I took a second to catch my breath and think. “Uh, second one?” 

“Anything for you.” He praised as he slowly moved his incredibly and unnaturally talented fingers.

He slowly began to amp it up and I let out pitiful gasps and moans as he went to work, cold-faced besides the occasional smile which he’d try to hide. I wanted to writhe and scream against his touch, feeling electrified.

“Feels good?” He asked softly, leaning forward and kissing my forehead.

“Yeah, it feels really good.” I spoke, biting my lip to restrain myself from calling him daddy.

His free hand fell from my throat and tried to undo the buttons on his shirt but struggled due to his limitations, he withdrew his hand and stuck it in his mouth briefly before continuing to shrug off his shirt. He grinned at the sweetness before placing his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him so I was no longer awkwardly leaning against the armrest and laying flat down on the couch.

He had shallow breathing as he began to unbuckle his belt and lower his pants and boxers. I kinda took him for a briefs guy. Nonetheless, he attempted to strip himself from his remaining clothes. It was a little awkward to watch admittedly.

I ran my hands up and down his toned stomach momentarily as he shuffled his pants just low enough for him to comfortably free his erection, giving it a few languid strokes before aligning it to me.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled as he pushed in, slowly at first but quick to bottom out to get it over and done with. “Mon dieu, ma petite fille.”

“Ah, fuck—” I cursed out as I grabbed onto his arm harshly at the feeling.

“Hey, Y/n.” He hushed. “Shh, you’re alright.” He spoke through gritted teeth, clearly trying to restrain himself in the slightest.

I nodded. “I’m alright.” I held onto him harshly, still trying to get used to the size.

“God, you’re so warm and soft.” He panted, groaning quietly.

“Mhm. ‘m not tight?” I breathed slowly.

“You feel just like a woman should.” I clenched around him and he let out a guttural groan. “Merde, mais tu es serré, si serré.” He rambled, his hands harshly digging into my hips.

“Huh?”

His head went limp and dipped down into the crevice of my neck. “Gonna need you to relax, can’t—” He grunted. I tried to level my breathing as he placed soft kisses on my neck. “I said you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

I writhe against the couch below him, feeling the slow drag of his velvety skin, despite being slow, it was deep. His eyes were hooded as they looked down at me and I struggled to keep eye contact. “Fuck, hurts.” I groaned softly, pushing at his hips to try to relieve some of the tension.

“Désolé.” He spoke softly, still pressing soft kisses against my skin and trying to rub smooth circles into my hips. “There is nothing better than this.”

The slow drag of his cock was intoxicating, I was devoid of words as his hand softly pressed against my stomach as his thumb reached to play with my clit, the soft fabric of my dress still bunched up at my waist.

“Si vous lisez ceci, j'avais juste besoin de remplissage.”

“Feels so good, daddy.” I finally cursed out.

He grunted with a particularly harsh thrust. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and I could already sense what was about to happen.

“You’re just a little girl. I’ll treat you like one.” He spat as he littered kisses down my neck again, contrary to his words. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re nothing compared to an experienced, well established, refined man like me. Is that what you wanted?” He spoke, dragging out the syllables of every word that left his mouth.

“What are you gonna do, daddy?” I spoke as he looked down at me with all the willpower that was left in his body. His thrust began to pick up pace slowly as I was adjusting to him, he hovered over me, entirely naked besides the mask. 

“I’m gonna show you how a man treats a woman.”

“And how am I going to go back to boys after you do?”

“You won’t.” He responded plainly but with a slight grin. “I’ll ruin you for young men. Why would you want to go back to a boy anyway? You won’t have to worry about boys.” He spoke possessively, purring at the feel of my body beneath him.

I let out a pathetic moan at the way he was speaking, feeling putty in his hands and more than willing to let this man ruin me for anyone less than experienced. 

He basically growled as his pager beeped at him. “Saved by the bell.”

“Wha— Huh?” I responded in a lust-filled daze as he haltered his movements completely and gave me a moment to rejoin planet earth before he continued.

“I need to go. Work calls.”

“Oh.” I frowned, pulling his face closer to mine to kiss him properly. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed at the sudden end, though by the looks of it, so was he given that his jaw was so clenched you could practically hear teeth cracking under the pressure.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, he placed one last kiss before leaving the situation entirely.

He pulled himself out and unbunched the skirt from around my waist, though we both had no idea where my panties had ended up. He began to put his suit back on slowly but equally so, he had no idea where his tie was.

“You can stay if you wish.” He said solemnly.

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No, I don’t know when I’ll be back but there’s no point letting this hotel room go to waste with no one staying in it.” He looked around. “It was quite expensive.” He whispered softly, there were teasing undertones but it was clear he was trying to convince me into staying, like this was the one service he could provide for me, despite his sudden departure.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back sometime in the morning, then we can get breakfast.”

“You’re gonna come back?”

“It would be rude to leave you, no?” He spoke, looking down at me while he buttoned up his shirt before slipping on his jacket and smoothing his mask below the collar. Without his tie, he left the first button undone on the white shirt and it looked enticing. “How else am I supposed to show you that boys are just a waste of time?”

“That is true. So.. You’ll see me again?” I tried to joke back with him but it hung in the air and he could sense the disappointment and hesitation.

“Yes.” He answered thickly. “I mean, I really shouldn’t but.. I seem to be unable to stop myself nonetheless.” He leant in for another kiss before hesitating and deciding to place it on the forehead instead. “The bed is very soft, ma cherie. I must insist you stay the night, at the very least.” He repeated softly. 

“I’ll stay.” I nodded, unsure if I would keep my promise.

“You can order room service if you need.” He spoke again, picking up his pager and sliding it into his suit jacket. “I wish I didn’t need to go.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

He nodded silent as he trudged through the room, he picked up his small duffel bag and did a silent salute goodbye before bending over again and picking up something from the ground and sliding it into his pocket, not that I saw what it was.

“I bid you adieu.” He spoke softly from the doorway before disappearing off into the night.

[agentmarvel]

Hey! Saw your writing challenge through Cali’s repost and wanted to humbly request Farah with a theme of fluff or smut (you choose!) and the themes as: folklore, bones, and the incorporation of the Victorian flower language.

If you decide to do mine, thank you for your time! If not, no worries. Your writing is still lovely :)

auri, i am so sorry this took me so long to finish! i've written and re-written this probably a dozen times trying to do such a great request justice, and i hope you like it!

farah karim x fem!reader

cw: none

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

At the edge of the forest sits a house. Its cracked and broken shutters hang at odd angles, banging against the wooden siding when the wind blows just right. The gaps in the porch turn the breeze into a shrieking whistle, wailing a warning to stay away. Vines of ivy crawl up the supports, gripping the beams like the phantom hands of nature. A long, winding trail leads from the backside into the trees - so deep into the woods that one would be unlikely to ever return, if the rumors are true. And if that all wasn’t alarming enough to demand a sane mind steer clear, the windchimes made of bones dangling from the eaves should surely do the trick.

The children of the village fear your beautiful home. Some believe you a succubus; odd considering no male has ever entered your abode. Some believe you a child-eater, a soul-snatcher, an evil entity that feeds on the locals and foreigners alike. Some believe that you’re a witch.

That may be true, to some extent. You don’t fly around on a broom or dance naked beneath the full moon, hailing Lucifer for your might and power. Nothing of the sort, really. While your array of talents is vast, you don’t believe in doing harm unduly. That’s not to say you haven’t dipped your toes in the dark arts, but it’s a rarity. Still, they assume the worst of you. Your kind is a source of dread in these parts, sewing unease and unrest into the fabric of society.

It’s this what keeps the townsfolk away from you - all but one, it would seem.

A beautiful woman, young, with dark, curious eyes. She lingers when she walks past your property, observing the pennyroyal and tansy lining the path to your door. Her delicate fingers trace the blooms of the snapdragons with wonderment. You can see the smile on her face from the window as she inhales deeply. The lush of your carefully cultivated garden ensnares her day after day, if only for a few brief moments, but it becomes your favorite part of the early afternoons.

Farah, you think, is her name. You haven’t had much interaction with her since her family moved to the village, mostly fleeting glances or the occasional brush that comes with navigating the narrow pathways of the market, but she fascinates you in a way you can’t quite describe. The feeling that stirs within your chest at the mere thought of her is foreign.

She chances a glance towards your home, something no one else would be bold enough to do, and immediately spots you hovering near an upper window, your steaming mug of tea cradled by your fingers. Softly, she waves. You hesitate only a moment before returning the gesture. Her full lips curl into a delicate smile, placated by a response in kind. She reaches for the basket almost forgotten on the ground beside her and pulls out a singular spring of hyacinth and a green carnation, making a grand display of placing the short stems through a pair of slats on your fence gate.

Your heart begins to race, thumping in your chest like the hooves of a thousand wild horses stampeding. Surely, she knows what that means? 

Astounded and enthralled, you watch her pick up her basket again, brazenly bashful as she looks up once more with doe eyes. Her teeth worry her lower lip. You can tell she’s nervous, the offering coming with an alarming amount of risk. Would you keep her secret, would you tell? What would happen to you if someone found out? What would happen to her? This sort of expression is forbidden between two young women. They’d hang the pair of you at even the implication this occurred. You worry not, though; not another soul would dare come this close, a secret to share just between the two of you.

She waits, watching. Silently, she’s asking if you understand. Instead of answering with a simple nod, you point, directing her attention to the sudden bloom of camellias at her feet. Pink and white, a dual acknowledgement. She picks a few, slipping them into her basket before she leaves you with a wink and a hand over her heart. Her form disappears back into the trees from whence she came, and she’s gone…

You’re certain you’ll see her again tomorrow, so you sit, quill in hand, inkwell at the ready, and write a note. Heart swelling in your chest, you keep it short and sweet, asking her to meet you in the clearing at midnight. You aren’t unaware of the risks that come with this. If she rejects the request and takes the note, she could show it to anyone - half the town’s already itching to see you swing from the gallows. If she’s sentimental, she may keep the note; if found, you’ll find yourselves inextricably bound by the noose. 

Fear has no place in love, however, so you gently blow the ink dry before cautiously rolling the parchment and tying it with a twine bow. For extra heed, you blow on the frayed threads as well. She’ll only have enough time to read it before it takes flame and the ashes are carried away on the breeze. Risk begets danger, and you’ll mitigate it where you can.

The note is left with her green carnation.

You suddenly can’t wait until tomorrow.

[phxntomsdusk]

Past life - Klepto!Wilbur x GN!Reader

note: it’s pre-death klepto!wilbur !! this is gonna def make someone sad so i apologize in advance- i can’t let my bursonas live in peace, they always gotta be traumatized. Also relationship between Wilbur and the reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you want :)

summary: you finally figure out what had turned the poor boy into a soul snatcher.

warnings: hella angst, mentions of death, swearing, self hurting thoughts/actions, comfort at some parts, parents fighting, divorce, alcoholic father, details of death, you probably will cry if you love this character

tags: @ax-y10 , @joviepog , @pheliiaa , @idontreallyexistyet , @rqvii , @haunted-headset , @ivvees-blog , @average-vibe , @lillylvjy , @toastyliltoasts41 (ask to be added!)

word count: 3K

You never expected to get close to the very man who was meant to take your soul, but here you were, comforting him as he cried to you about everything that led up to his very passing. He never told you any of this before, let alone trusted you knowing any of it.

You had found out so much. About his sister, his parents, his death, his first love. It was so heartbreaking.

Him and Wilma barely got along. The two were polar opposites, with her having many friends and constantly at other people’s houses, and him only talking to one person and spending most time in his room. He had tried his best to get on her side, but they just never saw eye to eye.

His best friend was Ryan, also his first love. He always thought something was wrong with him for loving a boy, but couldn’t help it. He was beautiful, perfect, everything you would want in a partner.

His parents got divorced when he was young, his mother taking custody of Wilma while he got stuck with his dad. Him and his father had a rocky relationship, while his mom completely stopped visiting after so many weeks.

During the summer Wilbur always found himself sitting atop the hill behind his house, sitting under the old oak tree and reading books his mother had gifted him. He always loved dark themed stories, ones that left readers confused and disturbed. His sister never understood his liking for these books, always finding herself reading romance and cliche teen girl stories. She would sometimes join him under the tree, but their calm and peaceful moments never lasted long.

He could hear the crunching of branches behind him, glancing around the trunk to see Wilma approaching in her sundress. She awkwardly sat down next to him, leaning her head back against the tree and sighed. “They’re fighting again.” She mumbled quietly, moving her head against his shoulder. He quickly nodded and began to read his book aloud to her, making sure she could also follow along, he tilted the pages in her direction.

It was moments like these that made him grateful for his sister, a smile always stuck on his face as she embraced him, even if it was just for a source of comfort.

“I loved her for her silence. Or maybe I just understood it.” He read the words out loud, before being interrupted by Wilma. “Do you ever feel that way?” She raised a brow, sitting up straight and brought her knees up to her chest. “Feel like what?” He placed his bookmark on the page, putting the book down in his lap. “Silent.. just wanting to be quiet. Maybe it’ll fix whatever the hell is wrong with them.” She gestured towards the house, where you could see two arguing and yelling figures in the kitchen window, to which she frowned.

“I get what you mean. Don’t worry, they’ll stop.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, watching as she hesitantly nodded and sighed. “Hopefully. I honestly can’t wait for the day they divorce and send us off to Aunt Tiff’s.” She chuckled lightly, earning a laugh from Wilbur. “Doesn’t sound too bad, actually. Then we can visit the sea each morning and stare out at the horizon.” He smiled at the idea, to which she scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You and your bloody daydreams.” She laughed and nudged his arm, before their mother shouted for her to come back inside. “I’m, uh, gonna go. Bye, Wil.” She quickly stood up, dusting off her skirt and rushed down the small hill.

If only they had more time, Wilbur thought. More time to actually treat one another like a person. More time for him to finally feel loved by someone in that dreadful house.

He sighed and opened his book again, picking up where he had stopped with a sorrowful expression, trying to ignore the tears that welled up in his eyes the second she had walked away.

That following spring, just as Wilma predicted their parents filed for a divorce. But instead of being sent away to their aunt’s home, Wilbur was dragged away by their father and taken to a small shitty apartment downtown. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to say goodbye to Wilma before he was on his way to a new home.

Of course he had her number, but he doubted she would even answer while with their mother. He simply stared out the window with a hurt expression, sniffling quietly but was told to shut up by his father.

Arriving at the apartment wasn’t any better. It had one bedroom, leaving him to sleep on the small futon placed in the living room that merged into the kitchen. His father didn’t seem to care and walked past him, heading into the bedroom with his bag and slammed the door shut.

“God damnit.” He groaned and grabbed the bag his dad packed for him off the ground, making his way to the futon and tossed it atop, before sitting down and frowned. He could feel each and every spring poking against his legs, causing him to quickly stand up and look for a blanket or pillow to lay down over it.

He knew his dad was a loser, but this was a new all time low. Leaving his only son with nothing but a small duffle bag with a few shirts and pants, no self care or anything. How would he manage to survive this?

“Wil! Get me a drink!” The shout from his dad made him internally cringe, clenching his jaw as he obeyed his words and walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, of course only filled with beer and water. He figured which one his dad wanted, grabbing the coldest one he could find before walking towards the bedroom.

He didn’t bother to question how his dad already had this place, stocked the fridge with only two types of drinks, and didn’t even bother to get proper furniture. He simply entered the room with a blank expression, putting the can on the bedside table before walking out, sighing quietly to himself.

“When will this shit get better?” He ran a hand over his face, before checking the time on his watch and saw he should at least try to sleep. Of course the futon was extremely uncomfortable, leaving him to use his bag as a pillow and he just slept in the clothes he wore all day.

As before he had mentioned Ryan, the very boy he had fallen in love with, the boy he hoped to confess to on this dreadful day. It was the first time in months that Wilbur had been back at his original home, mostly visiting his mom and Wilma, but when talk of Ryan coming over came up he couldn’t resist.

He was waiting at the hill, reading his book, but had himself facing the residence so he could see when his love would arrive. When the sudden sight of blonde hair and a red shirt appeared, he knew it had to be him.

“Ryan!” Wilbur shouted happily, rushing to stand up, leaving his book to sit wide open in the dirt. He rushed down the hill, stumbling slightly off the sidewalk and into the road, looking up to meet Ryan’s gaze. “Wow, Wilbur, be careful.” He chuckled lightly, glancing back and forth before he was about to cross.

But that’s when everything had changed.

Within only a few seconds a car horn could be heard, causing Wilbur’s gaze to divert to his right, seeing a white light nearing him. It was as if in the blink of an eye he was there, and then he was gone.

“Holy fuck! Wilbur!” Ryan quickly rushed over to him, holding up his head and placed a hand on the back of his neck, inspecting the wide gash he had just gained. The rushing footsteps of Wilma and his mother could be heard, a terrified shriek escaping his sister’s mouth as she knelt down next to him.

He could barely comprehend anything happening, he just felt so lightheaded and groggy, barely able to keep his eyes open as the taste of metal filled his mouth. He stared up at Ryan, tears filling his eyes as he weakly lifted a hand, only to be turned down and handed off to his mom, while he heard the tapping of a phone and soon the dialing of a call.

He didn’t understand what was happening. Was he dying? Was this really how his life was going to end? On the side of the road at 15 years old, just days before he was meant to turn 16. Just days before he could spend the day with his family again. Why did this have to happen to him?

Of course, that’s the last moment Wilbur remembered being alive. The next thing he knew he woke up in the hospital, his family crying around him as he stared in confusion, only to glance back and see his own lifeless body in the bed. A large gash across his neck, nearing his face.

The emotions he felt were difficult to explain, he was glad he didn’t have to deal with his father anymore, but seeing the pain he caused everyone hurt. Seeing his sister slowly spiral into a moment of depression and pain, his mother sobbing her eyes out to the point she couldn’t stand, and his father.. nowhere to be seen.

It was all so overwhelming, with him quickly leaving the hospital and rushed down the street. Though he didn’t notice the locket that somehow appeared around his neck, not until a sudden shadow seemed to be following him, reaching out for it and trying to drag him back to where his body lay.

All he could do was try his best to ignore this feeling, instead tearing the locket off himself and throwing it behind him. His biggest mistake ever.

He furrowed his brows as he slowly stopped in his tracks, watching as his surroundings only became darker and more grim, colder and more dull. “What the hell..” he mumbled under his breath, turning around and trying to walk, only to bump into something.

He didn’t even know what he was getting himself into, not until he felt the sudden paint returning to his neck, his surroundings becoming visible again, except there were so many more people. So many people he knew had passed in that town. He recognized an old shopkeeper who had lost his life during a fire, the burn marks still on his face and hands. He quickly walked over to the man, hoping he would have an answer.

“Mr. Williams?” He spoke in a quiet tone, watching the man turn to face him with a warm smile. “Wilbur? Is that you? My, you’ve gotten big.” His tone was welcoming, until he had taken notice of how young Wilbur was. “Aren't you quite young still? You shouldn’t be here.” He frowned and walked closer, taking note of the large gash on the side of Wilbur’s neck. “My, my. Such a shame.” Without another word he was gone, leaving Wil more confused than before.

Of course it didn’t stop here, how could it? He had become the Grim Reaper’s assistant after all.

It all started when he was simply walking past the hospital again, taking notice of a young boy outside the building, a locket around his neck as he stood there, always like he was waiting for someone.

“Hey, kid.” Wilbur approached him, raising a brow as he slightly bent down to meet his height. “Who are you waiting for?” His voice got quiet, watching the boy shrug and fiddle with the necklace around his neck. “I don’t know. I’m just here.” He pursed his lips, looking away from Wil.

He felt bad for the kid, he was dead and didn’t even know it. He quickly looked around the area, before crouching down and gestured towards the locket. “Let me see the locket.” He reached a hand out, watching as the boy hesitantly took it off and placed it in Wilbur’s hands. Engraved in the small emerald gem was an ‘H’. “What’s your name?” Wilbur looked back up at the kid, before standing up straight. “Henry.”

Before Wilbur could even speak again he was gone, causing him to state in confusion and disbelief. Where had the kid gone? He couldn’t easily disappear like that, could he? It was like Mr. Williams all over again.

He didn’t know what to do with the locket, and simply pocketed it, saying to himself mentally that he’d find a proper grave for it at some point.

But of course he didn’t. And he kept helping those lost souls finally rest in peace. It started with random people he found who looked lost, simply suggesting they give him their locket, to which they did. But once they got stubborn he took it upon himself to find their bodies and lead them to it, showing that they needed to hand over the locket so they could properly cross over.

He didn’t know he was truly helping someone this entire time, he simply thought he was doing the right thing. But with each locket he collected, he felt more power hungry for more. He wanted to fill his coat pockets, his drawers in the small house he claimed, the walls that had so many puncture holes from pins being pushed in and out.

Throughout this whole period of time, these months upon months, turned years of waiting for a change. He got one.

You watched as he got choked up on his words, causing you to hold his face in your hands and hold him close. “Wilbur, take your time. What changed?” You spoke softly, furrowing your brows at him.

“It.. it was Wilma. I found her.”

Just like he said. He found her. Wandering around the streets with a confused look on her face, her body hidden away in a baggy hoodie and sweatpants, her tear soaked cheeks shining in the dim moonlight.

“Wilma?” His voice called out, rushing over to her with a confused look. His eyes locked in on the locket she wore, trying to ignore the intense urge to snatch it from her. “How are you here?” He placed his hands on her shoulders, watching her look up and get choked up on speaking.

“I wanted to see my brother again, Wil. It’s been years.” She quickly pulled him into a hug, crying heavily into his shoulder, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso. He instantly hugged her back, a hand on the back of her head as he held her close. “How old are you, Wilm?” He spoke quietly, listening as she struggled to answer. “20. It’s been 5 years since you passed.”

He knew she couldn’t have passed from natural causes, suspecting one thing that he didn’t want to assume. “Did it hurt?” He spoke quietly, feeling her shake her head against him, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. “Thankfully no. I just.. it’s hard without you, y’know.” She pulled away from their hug, frowning slightly as she placed her hands on his face, smiling at the sight of him.

“Still young as ever. I’m jealous.” She chuckled softly, watching as he smiled at her words, nodding and nervously looked down. “Listen.. Wilma.” He sighed and gestured towards the locket she wore, biting the corner of his lip. “If you wanna fully pass over, you’re gonna need to hand over the locket.”

Her face somewhat dropped, clutching the green gem in her hands as she shook her head frantically. “What? No! I just got to see you again after 5 years, how could I leave so quickly?”

“Wilma, you have to. It’s not smart to stick around for so long without crossing over.” His tone became much more demanding, staring her down as he tried to get her to just agree with his words. “Do you do this to everyone you see? What the fuck has gotten into you?” She took a step back, glancing down at his coat pockets, seeing a shine through them. She was quick with her actions, reaching forward and snatching a few, before running off in the other direction. “Wilma! What the fuck?!” He quickly rushed after her, trying his best to catch her before she did the worst thing she could think of.

She had found her way to a graveyard, letting out a shaky breath as she thought quickly. She picked one of the lockets and dug a small hole in a grave, shoving the locket inside before packing the dirt down, watching as the green gem glowed through the brown muck. “Holy shit..” She muttered under her breath, before crawling towards another grave, doing the same thing as before, hearing as Wilbur’s footsteps got closer.

“Wilma, what are you doing?” He panicked as he saw the glows through the dirt, staring at her with a look of betrayal and hurt. “How.. how could you!” He rushed over to try and unbury one of them, but before he could, it was gone. “Wilma, what did you do?” He stared at her with confusion, watching as the glow of the other’s died down.

This was the moment he knew the two of them would probably never see eye to eye again. He had spent years collecting lost souls, and now all of sudden Wilma is back and somehow managed to return souls to earth. He didn’t understand, simply staring down at the empty dirt mound, feeling his stomach drop.

“So, that’s why you and her don’t talk anymore?” You quirked a brow up, watching him note and fiddle with the small locket he had in his pocket. “Yeah. Ever since then I haven't seen her again.” He sighed and looked over at you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“It’s harder for lost souls to cross over now. She’s constantly searching for them.. burying the lockets in the graveyard. Before I can ever get them they’re back to earth.” He spoke quietly, an annoyed look forming on his face. “It doesn’t always work out sometimes..”

You looked down at him with a confused look, lightly wrapping an arm around him. “What do you mean?” You spoke quietly, leaning your head on his.

“Staying silent.”

[thereaderinsertlady]

snarles here sneaking into your asks to request snatcher x reader for questober 👻🎃 okay so i had a few ideas for this since you said you like prompts and I've had quite a few laying around because I'm too shy to actually get into writing fanfiction myself hope you like them~ if not feel free to ignore any ones you don't like! - reader was either already a ghost or recently passed away and was reborn as a spirit - i had this idea where subcon has this yearly tradition where all the subconites and other spirits of the forest would make masks and dance in front of a big bonfire in the middle of the village - my random silly lore for this is that snatcher originally set this up as a way to celebrate the rebirth of subcon aswell as mourn the loss of everyone who died when the forest froze over (and also to spite vanessa lol) - after being in a relationship with y/n for a while now snatcher decides to invite them for the first time that's as much as i had for ideas but i think that's a pretty good place to add on from also most of this would probably just be fluff but honestly go wild

:0 hello there!! I tried my best to fit everything you put into one fic- I really liked all of the ideas you put down lmao. Anyways, here's the link on ao3, and I hope you enjoy!

Snatcher x Reader - To be a Ghost

Unfortunately for you, you… were dead. 

And have been for a while. 

It took nearly a year to get used to being dead and having your bottom half end with a tail instead of legs, but you found a way to cope via messing with people with your newfound abilities. Making objects float was very easy– a little too easy. Though, trying to paint a floating mask with a floating paint brush? A little difficult, even for you.

“How’s it coming along?” Snatcher said encouragingly, peering over your shoulder.

“I think it’s… somewhat coming along,” you said, tilting your head to look at it from a different angle. “I think. It seems like it’s missing something…”

“Missing something?” He hummed, leaning in close to look at the mask. “Hmm…”

As you floated in front of the mask, trying to coax the ethereal paint into cooperating and not to drip onto the tree-home’s floor, Snatcher's presence was oddly comforting. His encouragement was a balm to your spectral soul, and you were grateful for his support.

Snatcher leaned in more, his translucent eyes studying your creation intently. "Maybe a touch of cerulean blue around the edges? That might give it a bit more depth. Either way, I think you’ll be able to finish before tonight."

Even though it was always night time in Subcon, they were having an event in the middle of the village. Some sort of reconciliation with life and death and to aid with mourning… or something. You weren’t a hundred percent certain what it was for, but this was the first time Snatcher has invited you to join. 

Really, you were just excited to dance and hang out in front of a warm fire. 

Despite the fact that most of your senses have eroded; taste, smell, touch– you could still feel temperature. You couldn’t warm up by yourself, of course, so you had to find other sources.

“...Say, do you miss being alive?” Your voice was soft.

“Do I miss being in a meat sack?” He snorted. “That old thing was a hindrance! I couldn’t do anything that I can do now!” Snatcher floated past you, flopping down into his maroon chair. 

You chuckled at Snatcher's candid response. "Fair point," you mused, a smile tugging at the corners of your spectral lips. "But there must be some things you miss about it, right? Like... the taste of food, or the smell of roses?"

Snatcher tilted his head in thought, considering your question. "Well, I suppose there were some pleasant moments, yes. I… suppose I miss the taste of bacon, but overall, this form suits me just fine. No need to worry about trivial mortal concerns."

You nodded, understanding his perspective. It was fascinating to contemplate the stark differences between your current existence and the memories of your past life. The transition from flesh and blood to this ephemeral state was a journey of its own.

You continued to refine the mask, each stroke of the brush imbuing it with a sense of depth and mystery. It was shaping up to be a truly unique creation… or so you hoped. It might look a little dumb at an angle.

Snatcher watched with curiosity as the mask began to take on a new dimension. "I can see it coming together," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. His tail flicked against the floor. "You've got quite the talent."

You waved a hand, feeling just a little embarrassed. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m sure your minion’s masks look much better than mine.”

“Well, as they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder!”

“Did you steal that quote from a book somewhere?”

“...Maybe!”

You lightly laughed, continuing to work on painting the mask. You could pick items up in your ethereal hands, but not for long. Even sitting down was an issue… Well, that is, if you weren’t sitting in Snatcher’s lap. You blushed at the thought, recalling a few instances where he allowed you to sleep on him.

“...Say, when does the event start, again?”

“In a few good hours,” he answered. “Why?”

You carefully placed the mask down on the table, finished with it and wanting it to dry. You turned towards Snatcher, trying to put on a non-embarrassed face. “Well… maybe we could… I dunno… read a book together or something?”

“A book?” Snatcher seemed amused. “Is this a ploy to come sit in my lap again?”

You grunted, your tail swishing. “A-And what if it is?”

He took a moment to pretend to think. “Hmm… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…” After a pause he patted his lap. “Come hither.”

You tried not to look excited. As quickly as a mouse to cheese, you plopped down onto his lap, cuddling up to him. 

Snatcher chuckled, his purple form providing a surprisingly comfortable perch. You could feel a sense of warmth emanating from him, despite the lack of true physicality. It was a small comfort, a reminder that even in this ethereal existence, there were ways to find solace… Though, you wondered how he was able to sit down for so long without phasing through the chair… maybe it was an experience thing?

As you settled down in Snatcher's lap, he produced a worn, leather-bound book from the folds of existence, teleporting it to his clawed hands. It was adorned with cryptic symbols and strange glyphs, a testament to the otherworldly nature of this place.

He flipped it open, revealing the unique language used. “I’ll read it to you,” he told you, likely seeming your bewildered expression. "Now, let's see what tale we can unearth from the annals of Subcon's history," he mused, his eyes glowing faintly as he flipped through the first few pages. “It’s been a while since I’ve read this…” 

“...Anal?” Your lips quivered upwards as you tried not to laugh.

“Annals, as in yearly.” He pouted. “Silly ghost.”

After a moment his clawed fingers passed over the ancient text, expertly navigating the script and reading it aloud. The words he spoke seemed to come alive, weaving a vivid mental tapestry of Subcon's past. It was a tale of struggles, of rebirth, and of the enduring spirit that lived on in this forest.

…You rubbed your eyes, leaning back into him and getting comfortable. Although sleeping was a bit… difficult to do as a ghost, you found yourself drowsing off, head bopping a few times before settling backwards, against his chest. Although you were always interested to learn more, he was just too comfortable to lay on.

You weren’t exactly sure when you fell asleep, but reality faded away as you snuggled up to him, resting in his lap and comforted by his soothing, rumbling voice…