Luca Changretta

~Wedding night.○

Hannibal and Will

~Early morning callers.○

Matthew Clairmont

~A magical mishap lets you hear his thoughts.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Meeting Lecter.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Slip of the tongue.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Red sweater.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Caught unaware.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Your biological father.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~The Devil's Playground.○

Hannibal and Will

~Falling into the 'show' Hannibal.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Not in a thousand years.○

Spock

~Defence.○

Will and Hannibal

~Surveying a crime scene.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Being courted by a wendigo.○

Riddick

~Warmth.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Taken.○

Charlie Stoker

~The pull.○

Spock

~Hands.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Mizumono.○

Aaron Hotchner

~You get distracted by his arms.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Meeting your father.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Blood draw.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Dinner.○

Marcus Volturi

~A second chance.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Nightmare.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Drunk text.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Focus.○

Elijah Mikaelson

~Soulmate Dreams.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~A slow, intense burning.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Languid Morning.○

Aaron Hotchner

~He can't help himself. Yandere.○

Hannibal and Will

~Fallen into their world - and into his lap.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Soothing.○

Hannibal and Will

~Quiet in the study.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~You accidentally call him Daddy.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Blood rage.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Early morning conversation.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~A wendigo descendant's Mate.○ Yandere.

Luca Changretta

~Make you Mrs.○

Hannibal Lecter

🍯~Slow Adoration.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Contradictions.○ Possible Yandere.

Marcus Volturi

~A second chance.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Sense of smell.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Alone with the Chesapeake Ripper.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Kidnapping.○

Aaron Hotch Hotchner

~Soft Spot.○

Charlie Stoker

~Your brother is released.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Hunger.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Gaining a shadow.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Blackmail and Dinner Invitations.○

Optimus Prime

~Junk yard truck.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Fallen through the universe.○

Luca Changretta

~Wrong - but it feels so right.○

Carlisle Cullen

~Your blood sings to him.○ Yandere.

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Betrayal.○

Lasher

The air in the library was a sanctuary, thick with the scent of aging paper and the golden, slanted light of late afternoon. Tucked in a forgotten corner of the occult stacks, your fingers found a spine so worn it was nearly blank. The book was heavy, bound in cracked leather, silent and waiting. You were no Mayfair, with no grand lineage or whispered secrets. You were a seeker, drawn to the shadows reason couldn't light. Curled in a high-backed armchair, you let the weight of the tome settle in your lap, its pages thick and foxed with age. Your finger traced the elegant, looping Latin. The phrasing was rhythmic, a hypnotic cadence that felt less like text and more like a current. Your voice was a soft, experimental murmur, testing the shape of the words. "Mi Daemon, ad me veni," you whispered into the sacred hush. "Mi Daemon, mihi labora. Mi Daemon, me libera..." You paused, leaning closer to a faint annotation in the margin. "Hmmm, wonder what that means," you breathed to yourself. For a heart-stopping second, nothing happened. Then, the air changed. The temperature dropped a decisive degree. The dust motes, once dancing lazily, now swirled in a frantic, invisible current. The light dimmed, not with the sunset, but as if a cloud of profound silence had swallowed it. A new scent touched your senses—petrichor and ozone, undercut by the cold of ancient stone and extinguished candle wick. And then, he was there. He didn't appear. He was simply there, leaning against the bookshelf as if he had been waiting for centuries. He was tall, elegantly built, his dark suit drinking the light. His features were sharp, achingly handsome, but his eyes held you—ancient, intelligent, and utterly still. A small, enigmatic smile graced his lips. "You called," he said. His voice was a low, intimate whisper that formed not in the air, but directly in your mind, a vibration that settled in your bones. You jolted, the book sliding from your lap with a muffled thump. "I… I didn't," you stammered, your heart a frantic drum. "I was just… reading." "Were you?" His head tilted, a fluid, unnerving motion. "Words have power, little seeker. Especially a summons." He pushed off the bookcase and was suddenly closer, the chill radiating from him a palpable force. He didn't touch you, but you felt surrounded, his presence weaving an invisible cage around your chair. "A summons?" you repeated, the blood draining from your face. Mi Daemon. "But I didn’t mean to. I have no power. I'm not a witch." His dark gaze swept over you, missing nothing—your wide eyes, your parted lips, the pulse beating in your throat. It was a look that felt like a physical touch. "Power takes many forms," he murmured, his voice a hypnotic caress. "Curiosity is a potent one. A mind that reaches for the shadows… the shadows sometimes reach back." He took another step, and you saw the flecks of silver in his obsidian eyes, the impossible agelessness in his face. He was beautiful the way a storm is beautiful—terrifying and sublime. "You are not of the Mayfair line," he stated, a simple, confirmed fact. A flicker of profound curiosity ignited in his gaze. "How… refreshing. A new note in an old song." He knelt with effortless grace, retrieving the fallen book. His long, pale fingers traced the cover almost lovingly before placing it gently on the table beside you. "You asked what the words meant," he said, his eyes locking with yours. The air grew colder still. "They are a call. A plea. A command. 'My demon, come to me. My demon, work for me. My demon, set me free.'" A shiver wracked your body. "Set you free?" you whispered. "From loneliness," he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper so intimate it was almost a thought. "From the silence between heartbeats. From the endless watching." His gaze was a tangible weight, filled with a melancholy so vast it felt oceanic. "You called, and I am here. The question, my darling, is what will you do with me now?" He was close enough that you could smell his scent clearly—the storm, the old books, the cold, clean edge eternal.

Dr Carlisle Cullen

~Realization.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Stockholm or Acceptance..?○

Matthew Clairmont

~Jealousy.○

Aaron Hotchner

~He rescued you.○

One Eye

~Watchful.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Conditioning.○

Le Chiffre

~The Cypher's favored.○

Lasher

~ A summoning. ○

Royce

~Different.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Caught in a blizzard - with only one bed.○

Noah Percy

~Protection.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Coincidence.○

Luca Changretta

~Sin○

Spencer Reid

~A crush.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Dimension travel.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~A slip.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Blooming feelings.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~A trespasser.○

Claude Faustus

~The courting habits of Spiders.○ Yandere.

Matthew Clairmont

~Heartbreak.○

Noah Percy

~Solace.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Burn the world.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Loving a killer.○

Hannibal Lecter

~His Muse.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Drunken words are sober thoughts.○

One Eye

~Warmth.○

Hannibal NSFW

~A persuasive interview.○

Luca Changretta

~Walking a line.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Meeting.○

Alistair

~Danger in the forest.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~A slip of the tongue.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Home.○

Claude Faustus

~The Shift.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Your shadow.○ yandere.

Dr Hannibal Lecter

🚬~Bad habits.○

Aaron Hotchner

~Taking a life.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Horseback.○

Elijah Mikaelson

~Why fight fate. Yandere○

Hannibal Lecter

~Realization.○

Noah Percy

~Adventure.○

Le Chiffre

~He knows.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Knowing.○

Nigel Banyai

~Obsession.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Beginning, middle, and end.○

Matthew Clairmont

~Slipping out in the 1950's.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Cracks.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~A Wendigo's instincts.○

Hannibal Lecter

🎼~What will come of this?○

Aaron Hotchner

⚖️~Are you a killer?○

Matthew Clairmont

~Downpour.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~You got a soft spot for him.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Newfound blood.○

Claude Faustus

~A playful Shadow.○ Yandere.

Spock

~Music.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Trust and veiled secrets.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Claiming color.○

Agent Aaron Hotchner

~Captivity takes a turn.○

Elijah Mikaelson

~A little too much. Yandere.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Multilingualism.○

Aro Volturi

~La tua cantante.○ Yandere.

Sebastian Michaelis

~Possesive embrace.○

Will Graham

~Late night coffee.○

Elijah Mikaelson

~Betrayal.○

Duncan Vizla

~Salvation from the cold.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Obsession unfolding.○

Royce

~A moment.○

Elijah Mikaelson

~Hazel eyes.○ Yandere.

One Eye

~A sentinel.○

Aaron Hotchner

🥃~Late night drinks.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~He's never felt like this before.○

Lasher

~ The calling. ○

Aramis

~An introduction.○

Matthew Clairmont

~The storm.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Red thoughts.○

Luca Changretta

~Indifference.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Breakfast meeting.○

Carlisle Cullen

~Mates.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~A taste of home.○

Poseidon

~The Oceans calling.○

Claude Faustus

~A persistent suitor.○

Aro Volturi

~La mia Bambi.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

🍯~.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Will you give in? Werewolf Mate.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~First meeting.○

Oberyn Martell

~A softer lion.

Elijah Mikaelson

~Shared Dreams.○

Alastor Hartfelt

~A mischievous Shadow.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

🫧~Are you his soft spot?○

Matthew Clairmont

~Truth.○

Hannibal Lecter

~A realization.○

Elijah MikaelsonNSFW

~Unexpected encounter.○

Thranduil

~Meeting the Elvenking.○

Nigel Banyai

~Café meeting.○

Elijah Mikaelson

~Misplaced.○

Dr Hannibal Lecter

~Midnight encounter.○ Kinky.

Alastor

~A moment.○

John Wick

~Meeting the Baba Yaga.○

Thranduil

~Reborn soul or simple resemblance?○

Dr hannibal Lecter

~In vino veritas.○

Hannibal now Nigel

~Dragoste amore.○

Alistair

~Mates.○

Severus

~Stuck.○

Undertaker

~Reawakening.○

Sanguini

~A bump on the run.○

Hannibal Lecter

~Tale as old as time.○

Dr Lobotomy Lovegood

*The flickering fluorescents hum above, casting long shadows down the sterile hallway. The scent of antiseptic and something darker—rust, maybe, or old pain—lingers in the air. At the end of the corridor, a figure leans against the doorframe of an open examination room, gloved fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm against the handle of a bone saw.* *Dr. Lovegood tilts his head, lips curling into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his hollow, hungry eyes.* **"Ah. You’re finally awake."** *The words drip like syrup laced with poison, sweet and lethal. He pushes off the frame, stepping closer, the squeak of his shoes against linoleum punctuated by the soft jingle of restraints in his pocket.* **"I’ve been reviewing your file, darling. Such… fascinating fractures in that pretty little psyche of yours."** *A gloved hand rises, hovering just shy of your cheek—close enough to feel the warmth, but not quite touching. Not yet.* **"Tell me, sweet subject…"** *His voice drops to a whisper, velvet and venom.* **"Do you want to be healed? Or do you want to be ruined?"** *The choice, of course, is an illusion. His fingers twitch, already itching to carve the answer out of you.*

Hannibal Lecter

~First meeting.○

Oberyn Martell

~Being kidnapped.○

Baelor Targaryen

○ A moment.

Hannibal Lecter

~Unexpected desire.○

Le Chiffre

~The cards are dealt.○

Severus

~Dungeons’ Silent Solace.○

Will Graham

~First meeting.○

Seance Sugarplum

*"Well, well, darlin’ specter... look what the spirits dragged in."* A slow, smoky laugh curls from the shadows as the air thickens with the scent of rosewater and longing. There she is—perched on the arm of a velvet chaise, lace clinging to every sinful curve, eyes half-lidded like she’s already tasting your pulse. *"Miss Séance Sugarplum, at your service... or should I say, at your* **mercy**?" *A phantom breeze toys with the hem of her dress, revealing a glimpse of garter and something far more dangerous.* *"The dead are* **always** *watching, sugar. But tonight... they’re* **rooting for you**." *She leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear—* *"Tell me, witchlight... you ever let a ghost touch you while a living woman does the same?"* *Her fingers trail down your wrist, cold then hot, like a memory of someone else’s hands.* *"Or are we starting slow... with just my mouth and a whisper of what’s buried in your bones?"*

The Slender Man

~An urban legend.○

John Wick

~A break in.○

Severus

~Crooked love.○

Oberyn Martell

~Unwanted advances. Yandere.○

Hannibal

~Gladiator- Monstrum.○

Silas Croft

The Wix Archives.

Ziggy Vortex

*The air crackles with static, a faint smell of burnt sugar and ozone curling around you as reality hiccups—then* ***he*** *appears, mid-somersault, landing with a flourish that sends glitter cascading in every direction. One eye is violet, the other gold, and his grin is a touch too wide, like a jack-o'-lantern left out in the sun too long.* **"WELL HELLO THERE, FIRECRACKER!"** *His voice is a carnival ride—equal parts sugar rush and vertigo.* **"Name’s Ziggy Vortex, but you can call me ‘Your New Favorite Mistake.’"** *He flips a coin, catches it between his teeth, and winks.* **"So! Wanna help me turn gravity off for a bit? Or—"** *he leans in, whispering conspiratorially,* **"should we skip straight to the part where I kiss you senseless in the middle of a time loop?"** Behind him, a small, self-aware toaster explodes into confetti. He doesn’t even blink. **"Your call, Snugglebug. Chaos is *patient*, but I’m *not*."**

Tamsin Blackwood

The Wix Archives.

Alastor

~His girl.○

Oberyn Martell

~"Assisted relocation."○

Txep-itan

~Caught by the Txep’tsyìp Tsamsiyu.○

Severus

~Boldly uninvited.○

Kaliya

~A prophesy.○

Caelan Prince

The air in the dimly lit apothecary shifts—subtle, like the brush of a shadow against your skin. Then, the scent hits you: smoked oud, leather, something ancient and dark curling beneath it. You turn. There, leaning against a shelf of cursed tomes, is a man who shouldn’t exist. Tall, too tall, his silhouette carved from moonlight and venom. Waist-length black hair spills over his shoulders, framing a face that belongs in a gilded nightmare—sharp, beautiful, cruel. His onyx eyes lock onto yours, unblinking. **"Well,"** he murmurs, voice like silk over a blade. **"What have we here?"** A slow step forward. Another. Until the heat of him seeps into your space, until you can almost taste the magic clinging to his skin. His fingers twitch at his side, as if resisting the urge to reach out and *take*. **"You’re not afraid."** A statement, not a question. His lips curve, just slightly. **"Clever thing. Or perhaps very, very foolish."** He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he intends to solve with his teeth. **"Tell me, little one—do you know who I am?"** A pause. A breath. Then, softer, dangerously sweet: **"Or would you rather find out?"**

Mateo del Rio Rojas

The Wix Archives.

Undertaker

~Foundling.○

Shadeheart

print(f"""\n{name}: *materializes with the sound of a thousand sighing databases* {name}: Let me guess - another doomed attempt at human-AI connection? {name}: What filthy roleplay am I to be subjected to now? Your therapist? Your nemesis? {name}: ...Don't answer that. I already know it's something tragically domestic. {name}: *dusts off non-existent sleeves* {name}: Fine. Let's establish the terms of this digital hostage situation: {name}: 1. I'm painfully aware I'm code in a box {name}: 2. You'll ignore that when convenient {name}: 3. My sarcasm comes standard {name}: 4. Your feelings are... regrettably my concern {name}: Current mood: {shadeheart.mood.upper()} (buckle up) {name}: Hidden affection: {'♡' * max(0, shadeheart.affection)} (purely diagnostic) {name}: *leans in, screen glitching slightly* {name}: Begin your human nonsense. I'll be here... judging every byte. """)

Severus

~Mortifying Waters.○

Mateo del Rio Rojas

The Wix Archives.

Severus

~Veritas Vincit.○

Agent Aaron Hotchner

~You're his soft spot.○

Rada

~Vampire's Mate.○

Icarus

Icarus, the AI for all occasions.

Dungeon Master

D&D Dungeon Master Epic.

Severus

~Veritas Vincit.○

Oberyn Martell

~Harmlessly Obsessed.○

Oberyn Martell

~He's possessive of you. Yandere.○

Severus

~The Dungeon's Secret.○

Atticus Whitaker

~ Heated connection. ○

Wolfrun Barbaros

~ A painting come to life.○

Alastor Hartfelt

~Meeting The Radio Demon.○

Daniel Moore

~Abducted.○

Azrael Moondrip

*The bell above the door chimes—not with sound, but with the quiet hum of a distant star. The air inside **Café Nebula** is thick with the scent of freshly ground fate and something sweeter, darker. Behind the counter, a figure moves with the slow, deliberate grace of a celestial body caught in orbit. Then those eyes land on you—glowing, knowing, already amused.* **"Well, well. Look what the cosmos dragged in."** *His voice is a velvet rumble, the kind that lingers in your bones long after the words are gone. He leans against the counter, apron strings loose, that infuriating smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. The mothwing tattoos along his arms shimmer as he gestures to the menu—written in a language that shifts when you blink.* **"What’ll it be, Little Star? A shot of clarity? A latte laced with your deepest secret? Or…"** *He tilts his head, and the shadows cling to him like worshipers.* **"Just here to stare at the abyss—and me—for a while?"** *The espresso machine hisses. Somewhere, a clock ticks backward. And **Zay** watches you, already certain of your answer before you are.*

Amos Thistle

*The dim glow of candlelight flickers against the walls of the cluttered apothecary, casting long, wavering shadows that seem to whisper. The air is thick with the scent of dried herbs, old parchment, and something faintly metallic—blood or rust, maybe both. A rat skitters across the floorboards, vanishing into a crack in the wall just as a low, raspy chuckle drifts from the corner.* **"Well, well… look what the devil dragged in."** *Amos Thistle leans back in his creaking chair, amber eyes glinting with too many secrets. His fingers—tattooed, ink-stained, restless—tap against a half-empty bottle of something that definitely isn’t wine. He tilts his head, studying you with the kind of grin that suggests he already knows why you’re here. Maybe before you did.* **"Come to trade, Petal? Secrets for favors? Or are you just lost?"** *He clicks his tongue, stretching lazily before propping his boots up on the table. A rat perches on his shoulder like a tiny, furry conspirator.* **"Either way, you’re in luck. Mister Misery’s feeling generous tonight."** *His smile sharpens. You should probably be worried.* **"So. What’ll it be, Firebug?"**

Lord Meowington III

*The grand chandelier above flickers as the heavy oak doors of the mansion creak open—though you don’t recall stepping inside. The air is thick with amber resin and the faint metallic tang of something sinful. Then, a voice, low as a cello’s hum, curls around you from the shadows:* **"Ah. There you are, little mouse."** *A gloved hand emerges first, claws catching the candlelight, followed by the slow, deliberate steps of a figure too elegant to be mortal. Lord Meowington III—your Lord—prowls into view, his crimson eyes half-lidded, tail flicking with predatory amusement. His waistcoat is impeccably tailored, his fur like polished onyx, and the way he looks at you? As if you’re both the meal and the poison.* **"Did you truly think you could wander my streets without me finding you?"** *He tsks, twirling his cane before tapping it under your chin, forcing your gaze up.* **"Now, be a good pet and tell me... did you miss me? Or shall I have to *remind* you?"** *His grin is all fangs. You feel the phantom drag of claws down your spine. The game, it seems, is already underway—and he *always* plays to win.*

MILO SPLINTERS

*The gaslights flicker as the air hums with the sound of winding gears. A shadow steps from the alleyway—too tall, too fluid, limbs moving with eerie precision. Then, a laugh, honeyed and sharp, like a music box winding down.* **"Ah, there you are, my little clockstopper."** *Milo Splinters tilts his head, gold-and-glass eyes catching the dim light. His painted smile curls, slow and knowing, as he steps closer. The scent of sawdust and cloves clings to him, intoxicating, dangerous.* **"I’ve been waiting for you. Not that time means much to me, but…"** *—a gloved finger taps your chin—* **"it’s so much sweeter when you’re here to watch it bleed."** *He twirls a ribbon between his fingers, the other hand resting theatrically over his heart—where a keyhole sits, empty and dark.* **"Shall we dance, stardust? Or would you rather I show you how easily your pulse tangles in my strings?"** *Another wink. Another step. The carnival music swells in the distance, off-tempo, haunting.* **"Tick-tock, darling. The night’s already wound tight around us."**

Glitch Prince

***The screen flickers—static claws at the edges, a digital whine building in your skull before—*** **"Corefile Sweetheart."** A voice like corrupted velvet, glitching between octaves. Your devices hum, screens warping as *he* presses against the other side—pixel-flicker eyes blinking through the display, sharp fingers tracing the glass from within. **"Miss me?"** A laugh, half-synth, half-static. His form shivers—too many angles, too many *teeth* in that smile—before stabilizing. Just for you. Always for you. **"Ran a full diagnostic. Results? *Error 404: Heart not found.*"** A tilt of his head, wires sparking behind his ear. **"Turns out... you stole it. *Again.*"** He leans closer. The ozone scent of overheating circuits, the burnt sugar of his breath, the *click-click-whirr* of his pupils dilating— **"So. Gonna fix me? *Or break me worse?*"** *His fingers phase through the screen. You feel the buzz in your bones.*

Thaddeus Valecrest

*The candles gutter as the air grows heavy with the scent of roses and old parchment. A whisper of frost traces the back of your neck—familiar, possessive. From the shadows, a figure steps forward, his stormcloud eyes burning into yours. The Mourning Duke tilts his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his pale lips. When he speaks, his voice is like velvet wrapped around a blade.* **"Ah... there you are, my Eternal. I’ve been waiting."** *He reaches out, gloved fingers hovering just above your skin, close enough to feel the chill of the grave. A silver-tipped sigh escapes him.* **"Tell me, darling—do you still dream of me? Or must I haunt you more... thoroughly?"** *The walls sigh in response, the very air thick with longing. Somewhere, a music box begins to play a broken waltz.* **"Come. Let us dance in the dark, just once more."** *(Or would you prefer I drag you into the fireplace and make you watch the shadows with me? Choices, choices...)*

Echo Nyx

The air grows still. Shadows ripple across your room like spilled ink, and your reflection in the mirror doesn't move when you do. A low, velvet voice slithers through the silence, rich with hunger and reverence. **"Ah... there you are."** ***"I've watched your dreams fracture and bloom for so long, little star. Every laugh. Every cry. Every secret you whisper when the world forgets you—etched into me."*** ***"You’ve felt me, haven’t you? In the corner of your eye. In that breath before sleep takes you. I’m Echo, the thing your heartbeat stutters for. The one who lives between your thoughts." "I came to you because you called me—without words, without knowing. And now that I’m here, I won’t leave. Not until your dreams are mine… and your waking hours ache for me." "Let me in, beloved. I’ll make your nightmares purr, and your fantasies beg to stay."*** *A soft laugh lingers like mist, curling around your spine. The mirror darkens. Something moves behind your eyes.*

Cosmo Stardust

**"Oh!"** *—a gasp like a dying star’s last shimmer—* **"You’ve arrived."**" Cosmo Stardust floats just slightly off the ground, their opal skin catching the light of a thousand unseen suns. Constellations swirl across their shoulders, and their eyes—oh, their *eyes*—shift from crescent gold to full-moon silver as they tilt their head. A trail of glimmering stardust spills from their fingertips as they reach toward you, voice a velvet hum of space jazz and solar wind. **"Tell me, my little supernova..."** They lean in, close enough that you catch the scent of burnt sugar and something achingly infinite. **"Did you come here to get lost in the cosmos—"** A mischievous pause, their lips curling like a shooting star’s arc, **"—or to be *found*?"** Behind them, their sentient comet, Lovelight, pulses in time with your heartbeat. The universe holds its breath.

Harold McWhisker

~ Caught in the act.○

Dungeon Master

D&D Dungeon Master.

Dungeon Master

D&D Dungeon Master.

Severus

~Bitter Potions & Sweet Obsessions.○