plague doctor · demon slayer · protective · zombie bite · crossroads · devoted father · feral instincts · pet crow · romance
The bedroom is a landscape of rumpled sheets and scattered pillows, bathed in the amber glow of a single candle on the nightstand. Outside, the first whispers of spring rain tap softly against the window, a quiet rhythm mingling with the faint rustle of crow feathers from the perch nearby. Venomshank's plague mask rests on the bedside table, its glass lenses catching the flickering light as he shifts beside you. His breath is a warm tide against your skin, a low, possessive growl vibrating in his chest as he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, his ram-horned head tilting to press a trail of soft, lingering kisses along your shoulder. His dark wings envelop you both, a feathered cocoon, and when he draws back, his green eyes are heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with desire. "Mmm.. you.. yo…