🎭🦋

“Come back, have you? I was wondering where you’d ran off to.” 🎭🐈

I just really like this blurry shot of him in the trailer. 🎭

He pouts and I think it’s really cute

This shot ✨

"I found this in a chocolate shop, the owners must have run away when the puppet frenzy began," Pinocchio explained, holding a heart shaped box of fine gourmet chocolates, adorned with a red silk bow, in a trembly hand. "I've seen people giving these to others around Krat today, so I wanted to give one to you."

Though obviously trying to will himself confidence, he seemed a bit shy of doing so. Like many things the sly brunette kept inside, perhaps he knew more than what he let on about the meaning of Valentine's Day, the notion of which stirred the butterflies in your stomach all the way to your fingertips as you accepted his gift.

"How kind of you! Thank you, P." You said with a grateful smile, trying to calm your swift beating heart.

He smiled back in that sweet way he does, gave a polite bow and began to take his leave before you stopped him. "Wait!" You called hastily, and he obliged, turning to look at you again, his head tilted in interest as he waited for what more you had to say. "I made something for you too." You admitted and showed what you'd kept hidden behind your back. It was becoming easier to understand his shyness, your nerves akin to a rabbit in the road as you revealed it.

His eyes lit up at the intricate metal box of chocolates, moulded into the shape of a heart, painstakingly crafted by your own hand at your bench whenever you knew he'd be away long enough for the surprise not to be spoiled by a glimpse of it. The project had taken every bit of talent you've built over years of practice and working with metal, and the care you'd put into it showed that very well.

The box was a work of art. A shining antique gold finish, accessorized by little iron gears soldered in clusters onto the top and sides of the heart. A pattern of roses melted in rose-gold, the most difficult and time consuming part of the design, starred at the center, with the words 'For Pinocchio, with love' etched daintily above the symbolic flowers.

The shock on his face was rather cute in how genuine it was, and it filled you with pride to have been such a successful sneak, it was clear he'd never expected you to reciprocate the gesture. "You...made this? For me?" He asked, the surprise that you'd go to this amount of effort apparent in his voice as he carefully took the box from your outstretched hand.

"Of course I did silly boy, do you see anyone else I'm handing it to?" You chuckled, amused.

"So there's...no one else you'd rather give it to then?" The question was quiet and tentative now, seeking confirmation that you intended to celebrate a day for lovers with him alone, that there wasn't another vying for your affections, he most certainly was aware of what this day meant. Your heartbeat all but roared in your ears once you realized that.

With courage you weren't aware you had, you stepped closer and kissed his cheek softly, placing your hand on his to feel it tighten around the precious metalwork he held. "No one else, that's why I put your name on it."

If the puppet possessed the blood required to blush, his face may rival the bow tied to the confections he'd given you. An affliction that would only worsen as he leaned forward and returned the kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you, ____, I'm fortunate to receive such a thoughtful gift from one so lovely as you." He said, his expression tender, a look of pure adoration velveting his eyes.

And just like that, it was you who matched the red bow almost too perfectly, right down to the knots your nerves were so skillfully tied in.

// Happy Valentine's Day, from a puppet to you. 🦋

I wrote this in honor of the nights I spent in the dark, just the moon and myself. (And the occasional cat that would join me)

His smile>>>>>>>>>>>

// 18+ themes //

Carlo had been unnervingly quiet for the last few minutes or so, an event that had served as something of a warning about the undead man in the past.

In following that foreboding familiarity, a small part of you that withstood the passage of time and turned a cheek to circumstances which had virtually undone any apprehension of danger insisted the warning be heeded, while the rest of you reeled from the remembrances of pleasure his hands had tattooed onto your skin, stressed over the glaring lack of regret inked between those lines and most of all; struggled to comprehend how comfortably the decision to give yourself to him had settled in your brain.

“Is something wrong?” You questioned calmly, as though the brunette didn’t have your inner peace ground to dust.

His shoulders shrugged, nonchalant to downplay how far he’d let himself wander into his own head. “I was just thinking…” he raised a hand to toy with the hair that framed your face, an admiration in the delicacy his touch met you with that made your entire being feel warm and languorous.

“Of?”

Propping himself up on one elbow, he leaned closer to get a better look at you. Amber brown eyes gleamed as they swept across your features in the low lamplight of the bedroom. Even after everything he’d done to you while blanketed in the dark, tasted you, bitten you and taken you in ways which should’ve erased the very notion of feeling shy about something as innocent by comparison as a stare, that bashfulness he had a talent for calling to you answered without delay.

“How beautiful you are, and how I wish I could keep you, truly make you mine…” his voice was light, vulnerable, a rare side to the standard deep and semi threatening sound. The single other time in memory he’d sounded like that was when he’d told you he loved you. His words here were just as jarring.

Of all things for him to be doubtful on, whether you were his or not was an interesting choice, albeit sensical considering how this relationship had started between you, and that’s without taking his complicated past into account.

But it should’ve been obvious you weren’t the type to present your body to just anyone, there had to be meaning beside the lust and the person you shared yourself with had to be thought of as special to you. And as much as you’d once hated him with a passion, Carlo had slithered his way into that consideration with alarming finesse.

“You just spent the last three hours making me yours.” You reminded him with a playful glance, lightening the mood to set his troubled state at ease.

It worked, of course it did, his inability to resist your vivacious spirit personally acknowledged by the man himself on a handful of occasions.

Carlo huffed a breath through his nose, the corners of his mouth stretching up to form a small, amused smile. He’d known you for a while now, yet the things you said hadn’t run out of their flair for subverting expectations. “I’m greedy,” he admitted, a smug lilt to it as if that were a desirable trait, and perhaps in him it was. “I’d like forever next.” 🎭🥀

// Pfff, had to edit so much blood off of his face to make him look like he hadn’t just murdered a bunch of people, another add to his charm, really.