(Untitled)

[xthegrimreaperx]

It was not it Katsumi's nature to be aggressive or dominate in her interactions with the living world. She had no dominion over the living, just the dead, and even then she had very little power or sway. Long ago she had come to understand her nature and her duty and to question it now made her stomach tighten. Wherever that was at the moment

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[is_fear_itself]

"What was the question?" Crane was honestly doing his best to be insolent. It came easy to him now, "Oh, am I a man enough to satisfy a spectre. Yes, well, I would be, but you seem to be lacking the appropriate--" the second's pause betrays how frantically his mind is working, chemicals stacking, overflowing rational thought in the panic, and yes, he's hard, he's very hard, "--equipment."

[xthegrimreaperx]

"You know the question." Of course he did and of course she was slowly starting to forget it, her hand in between his legs, the bob of his Adam's apple up against the palm of her hand. That feeling but not feeling all at once. What a mind fuck. At the moment he has all the necessary equipment and she has none. That can be remedied but she wants to play. Her fingers tighten, so she can hear the squeeze of skin under bone. "That can be remedied I assure you."

[is_fear_itself]

Now he's gasping for air, not quite as self assured even externally, "Yuh-....you--.." No, no good. "--whhn....d'you wnnt." He has had some practice wheezing through a constricted windpipe. Batman is a pretty demanding teacher in that department.

[xthegrimreaperx]

"To make you hurt. To feel you struggle. To watch. I like watching." He cheek brushes against his, smooth, cool bone against his heated flesh. One cheek and then the other. Despite the Death grip on his throat she caresses him like a lover. Slowly she begins to lessen the pressure on him.