#i imagined he would look a bit more disheveled in general

[deepiintheocean]

hes trying really hard not to kill julian

#asra alnazar #asra the arcana #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana asra #hi lol. hi. sup #theres a whole backstory to this drawing #i was thinking about an asra working at the palace during the plague and how they would act like #i feel like they would be much more easily annoyed especially while working with julian and finding out that the apprentice worked under him #just been thinking a lot about muriel saying how the plague afected asra oughgg psychic damage... #i imagined he would look a bit more disheveled in general #anyways yea :33 #✍️: my art

[a-hazbin-reader]

What would Alastor and his wife's honeymoon be like?

Alive? Alive.

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️ Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive!! Traumatized taxi driver, MISCHIEF

Description: ☝️⬆️

I imagine Alastor wouldn't want to go very far for his honeymoon, liking to stay in the general area should his mother need him

Expect a lake house or cabin, something with fresh open air, water to swim in and all the amenities of home

It'll be beautiful but secluded, just you and your new husband for the foreseeable future

Alastor is positively giddy the entire ride there, unable to stop looking at you and kissing you whenever he can

You would almost be embarrassed if it weren't for the fact that you were just as delirious with happiness

You two could barely keep off of each other, cuddling and holding each other as if scared one of you would dissappear

He's kissing along your arm in an almost cartoonish manner when you two arrive, the taxi driver having to cough awkwardly for his attention

Your husband doesn't even try to look embarrassed, holding you close to him as he pays the driver

Alastor is smug, not at all bothered by the way you blush and clutch at him to hide your face from the flustered driver

He still can't believe that you're his wife now, never having thought he would be the type to marry

He never thought he would enjoy looking for engagement rings or feel nervous at the idea of proposing, but you changed all that

And now he has you as his wife, something that fills him with pride whenever he thinks about it

He will insist on carrying you over the threshold, not matter how much you squirm and blush-he just eats that shit up anyways

Doesn't immediately rush into sex and breaking in the new marriage, instead wanting to help you unpack

Good because you two still need to pay the driver-

"Darling, let your husband carry that~ It's quite heavy~"

"Honey, your wife is capable of carrying a suitcase."

He doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes and shake your head to hide a fond smile from him

You love this ridiculous man

Alastor does, however, keep pinning you against every bit of furniture and kissing you like it's the last time he'll ever get to

You can't help but wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, turning it into an impromptu make-out session

He leaves you whimpering and weak in the knees each time before going off and getting more of your things

The driver wishes you two would just PLEASE hurry up so he can GO

Please, there's something terrifying about your husband, and you keep coming back more and more disheveled, and is that lipstick on your husband's neck-

The place you two stay at is absolutely beautiful, Alastor having thought of everything he could to impress you

Sun, a cool breeze, flowers blooming and dropping petals all around the property-it's all just quite romantic

He keeps kissing your hand, lips hovering over your wedding ring as he gazes at it with pride

Your first night together as a married couple is terribly passionate and steamy, the two of you finally letting loose all those building urges

All that time together and you had only known Alastor to be a gentleman, not this intense man hell bent on leaving your legs shaking and voice hoarse

Sure, he's just a man, but you're certain you saw a demon in bed with you that night, biting and clawing at any part of you he can reach

Not that you minded, it only served to make everything more real for you, each mark and jolt of pleasure proof that this wasn't just a dream

Plus, you gave back everything he gave you so you two are even

You don't want to get out of bed the next day, whining and clinging to your husband as he tries to get up

"Come now, darling, we can take a hot bath to soothe those muscles then get some breakfast~"

You still pout, but let him carry you to the bathroom, FORCING him to brush his teeth before any morning kisses come your way

The bath is heaven on your body, leaning back against your husband and letting him kiss and nip along your neck and shoulders

He's almost reverent with the way his hands glide over your skin, making you shudder and sigh against his chest

You both get distracted and the water has gone cold by the time you two manage to leave the bath

It's almost like you two are teenagers, giggling, kissing and holding hands like it's something new for you

You two cook every meal together, practically glued at the hip or with Alastor stuck to your back

Insists that you let him try a bite of everything just so he can be fed by you and watch you blush because he's nipping your fingers each time

"I'm going to put a muzzle on you if you keep it up, mister."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darling~"

"You're impossible."

If you wanna go swimming that's great but just know that this man WILL throw his wife into the water

Even if you just happen to mention it then suddenly he's picking you up and walking you out to the dock

"ALASTOR NO!! LET ME GET MY SWIMSUIT ON FI-AAAAAAHHH!"

Has the most shit eating grin on his face as he kneels down to look at you but will flail and lose it if you drag him in with you

"Well, that's a rude thing to do to your new husband."

You just laugh and wrap your arms around him, brushing noses with your husband

"Get used to it, honey~"

Totally no water kisses or almost drowning each other because you guys play too much

If you want to go on a boat ride in the water, then he'll happily do that for you, rowing you out to the middle of the lake

It's absolutely an excuse to push him into the water and leave him out there as revenge for his earlier prank

"Darling, come back! I've learned my lesson!"

All these water shenanigans are totally not an excuse for either of you to hug the other while wrapping them up in a towel

Or laying together under the sun until you dry off

Lots of cuddling together on the porch swing during the evenings to watch the sunsets together and maybe catching a few fireflies

He'll stargaze with you at night as long as you promise to stay glued to his side, he uses the excuse that he needs you for warmth

Maybe it leads to sex under the stars maybe it doesn't, just know he'll have to carry you inside

If there's a hammock, then he will beg you to lay with him and relax, he'll talk to you about anything and everything if you do

You two take naps together in the hammock

He calls his mother at least once a day the entire time you two are on your honeymoon, only to be flabbergasted when she doesn't want to talk to him

"Alastor, honey... I'm fine, spend time with your wife and quit worrying about me!"

It's actually kinda cute to watch him pout and sulk with his head in your lap, stroking his hair to soothe him

"I just wanted to check on her!"

"Yes yes, you're a good boy, Alastor...~"

He just groans and buries his face in your stomach

He takes you out for a lot of romantic walks in the woods, and you're so enamored with how beautiful everything is that you miss the way your husband looks at you

He just thinks you're the most beautiful thing here and can't look away from you, can't believe you're his wife

Every single time you think you're lost, your husband always knows which way to go, navigating the woods with ease

Alastor will carry every cool rock or pretty flower you find, amused by your antics but secretly keeping an eye out for his own forest treasures

He found a small animal skull and was quite proud of it

At some point, all your precious items are dropped on the forest floor, and you find yourself pushed up against a tree and kissed by your husband

His hands purposefully slide up your clothes and you two end up having a quick romp in the forest

You're then half embarrassed and half swooning over the fact that Alastor starts carving your names into the tree you two just soiled

"Are you marking your territory right now? Is that it?"

He just chuckles and shakes his head, concentrating on getting the heart around your names just right

"I'm making it our special tree, so we can always find it when we visit~"

Ugh, how did you get this man to marry you???

You two don't get back until it's dark, when suddenly you have to stop and grab Alastor's arm to keep him from moving

"Did you hear something?"

He's on full alert, immediately wrapping a protective arm around you and gazing into the darkness ahead of you both

He seems almost predatory like this, gaze sharp and intense, you aren't sure if you'd want to run into your husband in the dark

There's the sound of snapping sticks and rustling leaves, getting closer-

He squints and adjusts his glasses before suddenly relaxing and chuckling softly before whispering to you

"Are you scared of a little deer, darling~?"

You peer out into the darkness, following Alastor's arm until you see two deer walking together

You sigh in relief and lean against your husband, who kisses your forehead fondly and rubs your arm

"Do you think they're on a honeymoon too?"

He chuckles and gives you a squeeze, resting his chin on your head as he hums in contemplation

"I don't imagine that buck plans on sticking around, let alone getting married to the doe. He's probably going to leave her as soon as he finds out he's going to be a father."

You snort and roll your eyes at his less than romantic answer, he could've just gone with it

"Hmph. Typical man. Good thing I got the only good one around~"

"Aren't you lucky~?"

You two stay and watch the deer until they leave, heading back to your temporary residence

How are you NOT supposed to be turned on by your husband fearlessly protecting you against an unknown foe?? He doesn't know what hit him as you push him onto the bed-

He dramatically pulls the covers up to his chin later, giving you a shocked look as you slip on your nightgown

"Just what got into you? You USED me!"

He gestures to the fresh love bite on his neck and his clothes that have been thrown around the room

"It's nothing you haven't been doing to me the entire time~"

You give a wink and blow him a kiss before crawling into bed with him, wrapping your arms around your husband happily

He falls asleep first this time and you'll have to take his glasses off so that he doesn't lose them in the sheets

You two don't want to leave when your honeymoon is over, feeling like time flew by too fast

You two help each other pack up, stealing kisses each time you pass each other

You managed to get one more shower together before you had to leave. Miraculously, neither of you slipped during your...activities

It's the same taxi driver as before which Alastor thinks is hilarious because the man so obviously remembers you both

It's a quiet but happy ride back home, the two of your holding hands and sneaking loving glances at each other as you stare out your respective windows

His thumb is rubbing over your hand the entire ride back, brushing over your wedding ring

It still hasn't fully settled for either of you that you're married now, both of you having difficulties imagining getting used to such a fact

But it makes you both happy and you two can't wait to come back here on your anniversary

HERE! TAKE IT!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Hair

Written for @hinnymicrofic November 2023 - Prompt 10

School year 96/97, told through the medium of Hair

He first noticed Ginny’s hair in October, at Quidditch practice. Well, not so much noticed, because of course he had noticed before that she had hair in a general sense. She obviously wasn’t bald, was she? No, it was more like he paid particular attention to her hair, specifically. It happened when she dived sharply for a loose quaffle, twisting as she went, and whatever she’d used to clip it up to her head came loose. Suddenly, her hair was tumbling behind her, first as she hurtled towards the grass, then as she soared upwards, aiming for the hoops. It caught the late afternoon sun, and almost seemed to glow, like flames streaking through the air behind her. Ron saved her shot (with his face. Classic.), and as she pulled up in front of him, face alight with laughter, her hair fell forward, like a cloud around her shoulders. Harry decided the odd feeling in his stomach was hunger - must be time to head back up for dinner.

-----------

Ginny was grateful to Dean, checking over her Charms essay, really she was, but honestly, it was a bit dull, just sat there in the common room, waiting. Her gaze fell idly on the table in the corner, where Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting, deep in conversation. Harry had his back to her, and, for want of anything better to do, she traced the line of his hair with her eyes, where it fell, curling just slightly towards his collar. She imagined running her finger there, feeling where his hairline met the pale skin of his neck, and she shivered slightly. 

“It’s pretty good, Ginny. You just need to add a bit more about the Substantive charm’s practical uses and then I think you’ve covered everything.”

Ginny jumped at the sound of Dean’s voice, suddenly feeling very guilty about the direction of her thoughts, and more than a little surprised. I mean, where the fuck did that even come from?

-----------

The Slug Club Christmas party was every bit as appalling as Harry had feared. Luna’s company helped to make it just about bearable, as did the amusing spectacle of Hermione attempting to avoid McLaggan. The biggest problem was that no matter how many utterly terrifying/incredibly dull/undoubtedly influential (delete as applicable) people Slughorn seemed determined to introduce him to, Harry found his attention constantly drawn to the flashes of long, red hair from across the room, everytime it caught the candlelight. It was impossible to miss, a beacon that always drew his gaze. But as always, Ginny remained just out of his reach.

-----------

At breakfast, before the Hufflepuff match, Ginny watched Harry carefully. Sure enough, she quickly picked up the signs that he was stressed. Losing Katie was bad enough, but Ron’s (ahem) mishap and Cormac’s subsequent recruitment was significantly more concerning. It seemed like every few seconds, he’d run his fingers through his hair. Long, slender, strong fingers, oddly delicate despite the callouses from his wand and the handle of his firebolt, though why her stupid brain insisted on noticing that, she had no idea. Well okay, maybe she had a bit of an idea. But anyway, the constant agitation made his hair stick up in spiky black tufts, even more unruly than usual - which was really saying something, wasn’t it? 

Maybe it would be neater if he cut it shorter? she thought - but he wouldn’t like that, would he? Because if it was shorter, it wouldn’t flop down over his forehead, covering his scar. And, now she came to think about it, she wouldn’t like it either. There was something strangely hot about he always looked so dishevelled, like he had perennially just got out of bed. She wondered, not for the first time, whether it was as soft as it appeared? She imagined running her own fingers through it, the feeling of it against the delicate skin between her fingers and… oh crap, she didn’t just sigh out loud, did she?

“Everything okay, Ginny?” enquired Hermione, her tone solicitous, but her expression irritatingly knowing. “You look a bit… flushed.” 

“Yes, fine,” she answered, smoothly, returning Hermione’s arched eyebrow with one of her own. “Just a bit warm in here, isn’t it?”

-----------

By the time Harry arrived at The Burrow at Easter, he knew he was in real trouble. Being in such close proximity to Ginny was… problematic. Everything about her was just so bloody attractive, and it did things to him. Case in point: when Hermione was finally persuaded to make up the numbers for two-aside Quidditch. Harry honestly didn’t expect this to be an issue - after all, he’d played Quidditch with Ginny countless times, and okay it was often a bit distracting, but this was something else. Obviously, her lips didn’t help, pink and slightly parted as she concentrated on stealing the quaffle from under his nose, but the main difference was the way she was dressed, in the unseasonably warm weather. Those  unnecessarily short shorts, and the way her t-shirt stretched over her chest… well, anyway. He needed something else to focus on, and fast. Ron! Yes, genius. Thinking of Ron, instant mood killer. Ron with his ginger hair. It was the exact same shade as Ginny’s ginger hair, wasn’t it? Ron’s ginger hair, which was cut short, and not at all like Ginny’s which was long and thick and shiny, and currently braided into a thick plait, hanging down her back towards… Oh Merlin! This isn’t helping AT ALL! 

“Harry! Look out!”

Unfortunately, Hermione’s warning came way too late, but at least sorting out the minor cuts and bruises from his collision with the tree branch and subsequent tumble to the ground gave him something else to think about. 

-----------

The moment they stepped through the portrait hole, Harry pressed her against the wall, his mouth on hers. With only a moment of hesitation, Ginny allowed her hands to slip up his back, feeling his shoulders tense at her touch, before sliding them through his hair. 

Yeah, I was right, she thought to herself, it really is as soft as it looks.

After that, she really didn’t do much in the way of thinking at all.

#hinny microfic #ginny weasley #harry potter #harry x ginny #hinny #Not really micro is it? #Got a bit carried away with this one #School year 96/97 told through the medium of hair

[thebardisabird]

this is the first request ive ever made, but how would the boys react to a classic Bimbo reader? with classic blonde hair, pink clothes, expensive bags and nails, stuff like that😭 this may be a bit strange so dont answer if you dont wanna, i was just curious. thank you so much lmao 😭

We know her, we love her, she’s that girl!

So Osomatsu immediately goes gaga for you. I’m talking heart eyes, drooling, unable to think coherent thoughts kind of enamored. From your pretty long eyelashes, to your super short mini skirt to pink boot heels - he can’t seems to pick a spot where he wants to look! Every single inch of you sings sex appeal and he’s listening very intently. He knows he definitely cannot afford you tho - so he might pull off the same stunt he did for Chibimi and just about sell his soul to get a date with you. (Honestly when I think of all the characteristics you describe matched with Oso I think of @girlymatsu ‘s oc Erina-chan who is super cute and fun, please check them out, you can tell they put a lot of love in their art and you'll absolutely love their oc)

Karamatsu sees your fashion sense and instantly wants to be the Ken to your Barbie. You have this it girl factor that draws him in and with the sway of your hips and the wink of your pink, glittery shadowed eye, he’s completely under your spell. If you so choose to give him the time of day, he pays you compliment after compliment, and will take you out on a date to get coffee or a nice meal depending on what you’d like. If we’re talking about a classic bimbo trope where you’re a little on the less well-read side, then he might find it cute that you don’t really know how to pronounce some of the words of the meals or coffee drinks and he’ll try to use the opportunity to teach you some fancy words. You actually find his poses and flowery speech kinda funny, because he sounds like a poem out loud.

Choromatsu has no idea how you're even talking to him right now. He's seen you plenty of times and never ever imagined you would even say two words to him other than like... "Excuse me" if he was standing in your way. You are so far removed from all the things that encompass his life. Yet when you tell him that his favorite has super cute outfits and that you were thinking about becoming one yourself because you love the idea of all the glitz and glamour it brings, he short-circuits. You're already so gorgeous, to think of you being in cutesy outfits and dancing around? And he's allowed to talk to you? Associate with you??? The man is ready to die happy. But not as happy as when you dress up in his favorite idol's outfit - only it looks ten times better on you because your bigger chest and ass. While you don't exactly understand his love for anime, manga, and other more nerdy things, you humor him because he's just so cute when his little froggy face lights up the way it does!

Ichimatsu is intimidated entirely by you and will actively go out of his way to avoid you. You are like a beacon of light far too bright and undeserving for him to ever even get close to. Luckily for him, you notice one day that he's looking into the window of a cat cafe and you finally tap him on his shoulder and ask about whether he likes cats or not. It takes about everything he has not to throw up on the spot, but he is seriously questioning his life and whether or not some god above is about to smite him. You try to explain to him that you actually really love kitties as you point to your kitten paw choker and show him your baby pink matching kitten paw nails. At some point he realizes that you're not fucking with him and he slides out of fight or flight mode and into general nervousness. It takes a while before you can actually get him to speak (you're literally such a bombshell against his disheveled-ness, he feels very grateful that he's conscious enough to give you short answers instead of fainting like his body wants him to), but you eventually give him your number. When you part ways, then he slumps to the ground, but with the tiniest of smiles on his face.

Jyushimatsu actually makes you nervous. It's very clear that you're super attractive and bubbly, but there is a genuine sweetness to him that makes him stick out from all the other meatheads who try to normally get your attention. The yellow clad matsu isn't very subtle about staring at you and your appearance, but you honestly don't mind it when he says things like "Your hair reminds me of the sun!" or "You look like a pretty pink cloud today, haha!" The guy is just so adorable it makes you giggle. And when he smiles right back (even bigger than his usual grin), it makes you blush a bit. You end up leaving lipgloss on his cheeks all the time because you just find him so cute.

Todomatsu can't get enough of you once he gets to know you! You two feed off of each other's cutesy personalities. And since pink is both of your signature colors, you guys end up matching outfits a lot. Though the price to pay with you two being so matchy-matchy is that everyone else literally cannot stand being around you two lol. But that's fine to either of you because you both just chalk it up to them being rude and jealous and you pay it no mind...it's either that dynamic orrrrr you end up hating each others guts because only one of you can be the cutest in Akatsuka. Though that scenario ends up in an enemies to lovers situation because even though Todomatsu says he can't stand you - he definitely admits to himself (and only to himself at first) that you are positively gorgeous and the only person worthy of being at his level of pretty in pink.

#ososan #osomatsu san #allmatsu #osomatsu #osomatsu matsuno #osomatsu x reader #karamatsu matsuno #karamatsu #karamatsu x reader #choromatsu #choromatsu matsuno #choromatsu x reader #ichimatsu #ichimatsu matsuno #ichimatsu x reader #jyushimatsu #jyushimatsu matsuno #jyushimatsu x reader #todomatsu #todomatsu matsuno #todomatsu x reader #x reader #bimbo!reader #ososan headcanons #osomatsu san headcanons #ososan fanfiction #osomatsu san fanfiction

[moodymisty]

Hello🌻I hope you are doing well✨ Do you write in Warhammer? I saw this in the list of fandoms, but if not, I apologize a thousand😅 So, Sanguinius/reader-eternal. A moment of rest. Suppose there was some kind of difficult battle, and returning to his chambers after a victorious battle, Sanguinius feels tired and empty, he is dirty from blood and dirt, his hair is tangled, his wings have also lost their whiteness. And so he enters his chambers and smells a pleasant, but unfamiliar smell. The reader, anticipating in what state he would return, prepared a bath and took out her personal bathroom things (gels, shampoos, salts, candles, perfumes - with such smells that no one in the Imperium had seen since the Dark Era) and even more valuable to her (let it be a gift from parents or something) some kind of music player. Well, the reader comforts Angel, turns on music from his youth (maybe Beethoven, Wagner, Tchaikovsky or whatever you like best)), bathes him, takes care of his hair, nails and all that. How you can make his wings comfortable, I can’t imagine🤔 but in general, the reader was able to wash them somehow) Tells stories of plants, fruits, and animals that no primarch could ever see. About your favorite music, some kind of warm memory. Well, something like that😅 sorry if this is too long. In general, you can change the conditions to suit your comfort❤

Author's Note: So I was actually thinking of something somewhat similar to write in my own time because I'm a lonely primarch/astartes fucker for Guilliman (or pre-heresy Lorgar but that's just my 'I can fix him' mental illness talking) So when you sent this in I just about ascended. Emperor save my heretical ass for making this way too fluffy for Warhammer.

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: It's 40k lol so references to war and all sorts of violence but other than that, just fluff. Also the slightest hint at the BA astartes being a bit platonic yandere for their Primarch's beloved because it's my headcanon. Enjoy petting the pigeon primarch y'all

For someone as primped and perfect as Sanguinius- A beautiful angel with not a hair out of place or word said without the most careful of consideration, his personal quarters are an absolute mess.

Feathers of all sizes lay scattered across the floor and the giant bed that adorns the massive room, its blankets strewn about and slept in multiple times without being made up in-between. In all of it’s disheveled look, it looks comfortable to say the least.

It's not as if you actually mind the mess, it's not bad enough to even really call it one, but it's simply amusing to think of someone as borderline ethereal as Sanguinius sleeping in a messy, wrinkled bed adorned with his own down.

The Blood Angel guards posted in the hall had allowed you to pass into his quarters without fuss, one of many privileges that you're still getting used to. They nodded towards you and spoke with that Astartes specific rigid but technically polite prose; Seeped in a level of respect you don't feel entirely deserving of.

Sanguinius' angelic sons are, intense. Any other word you think of is too negative in it's definition, or doesn't accurately describe this feeling of heavy downward pressure on your body you get whenever you are close to them. They have a protective quality that has only seemed to intensify the closer you've gotten to their genefather, as you can feel eyes on your back until the door closes behind you and the guards only then return to their vigilant watch of the palace halls.

Sometimes, you swear they're following you.

A pondering for another time perhaps, as you look around the messy quarters holding your things in your hands.

Sanguinius is due to return to Terra at any moment now, and after so long with only vox messages and handwritten letters, you've decided to attempt to surprise him. You probably won't be able to do so, but you can at least prepare him something that will hopefully brighten up his spirits. You can tell from his slip ups in tone that some things have been grating on him like waves on a cliffside.

You'll do anything to make sure that the Angel, your Angel, never looses that glow that seems to follow him; And perhaps steal some of those rare snippets of time to have him just to yourself. Even if only for a moment.

In the separate room that serves as his private bath you begin to run hot water, billows of steam quickly rising to the ceiling and covering the metal adornments around the room with dew. It pours out the open door, as you sit your bag on the edge and pull out various different things. Some sourced from other planets, one from your father who all but fainted upon your asking of it for a Primarch, all being hard to obtain; Little bundles of rare luxury. You fully intend to make use of them all. They smell like flowers and sea salt, far better than the scent of the iron and filth-covered armor aboard the Red Tear.

Though your ears prick to the sound of heavy footsteps before you can fully finish setting up, and you lean up and away from the massive bath and leave the room only just as Sanguinius himself enters. In saying any moment, you seem to have been perfectly accurate.

The first thing you notice of him, besides your joy of seeing him, is he has primary feathers that are bent and sticking out away from the natural pattern of his wings, a few even cracked and torn. He's already gone though the necessary process to remove his armor, and now he's clad in the usual and more comfortable garb he would wear when originally on Baal.

While Sanguinius himself is unharmed, not a single wound and the blood dried on himself not his own, he still is disheveled and messy; Hair tangled from being blown in the wind and getting caught in the raised collar of his armor. You can see mud staining the tips of his wings where it splattered upward, unable to fully protect them from whatever muck he came in contact with.

"I know,"

He sees the look on your face, and his gentle stoicism parts ever so slightly as his lips part. His eyes show the glint of irritation through his long lashes as he looks slightly downward and to the side with a furrowed brow.

"I look a mess. there is no need to point it out. Believe me when I tell you someone else has already done so." He normally wouldn't be fond of something laughing at his current condition, but he supposes he can find the entertainment in it. It's an easier thing to swallow when it's his little beloved doing so. The sound of your quiet, breathily laugh is soothing more than aggravating, and he enjoys the look of sweet mirth plastered on your face. While it may be somewhat at his expense, he doesn't mind all too much considering.

"Well, then you might like the surprise I made up for you even more." His lips crook upward in the most gentle of smirks; Though he was more than likely instantly cued into your gift by the feeling of steam wafting from the other room into this one.

"If not just to get all the dirt from your wings."

At the mere mention of it you watch his wings stretch, shaking slightly as he attempts to right feathers stuck out of alignment. He reaches for the front of his robes as he walks towards the bath.

"I hope you didn't prepare all of this only for me to enjoy it alone. I'd find myself dreadfully bored without any company." You shake your head, following the angel into the bath while he quickly begins to slip into the hot water. You move in not long after, the water almost too hot on your skin, but the feeling of the steam on your face is pleasant.

He attempts to stretch his wings; Though not many rooms can handle his wings fully unfurled. The main room of his quarters when his bed resides can, but in here he finds the tips of his primary flight feathers brushing against the wall. When you attempt to move closer, he furls his wings back up to avoid you bumping them. It lets you reach close enough to his hair, where you wet it with the hot water and watch his eyes gently close. You watch as his hair slowly becomes clean even after so long, golden sheen returning as the soot washes away.

"I have been so besieged by the smell of crude oils and sweat as of late, I swear I'd forgotten what flowers smelled like..."

He smiles when the sound of your quiet, breathy laugh hits his ears, though you still continue treating him. He might have normally apposed to such obnoxious pampering, but you seem to enjoy it, and he’ll partake in a moment of selfishness.

“Let me enjoy this moment without your mockery, will you?” Your fingers weave into his golden hair, just a bit wavy even with the water weighing it down.

"Terribly sorry, Lord Primarch." How he hates that stuffy title; His nose wrinkles. When you notice his doing so, you laugh again.

"It's the title my father used when I told him I needed some of these things." His eyes open to watch you for a moment.

"They're made of flowers from my home planet; When I said they were for The Angel Sanguinius, I swear he choked on his own spit then and there. Thought I had finally killed him."

He listens to you mumble about their origin for a short while, if for nothing more than to fill the silence. The water is no longer running, so other than the occasional splash of water the room is near silent.

You feel the brush of his feathers against your bare skin as they adjust, the water turning color as the grime slips from them and they return to their pristine white color. After all this time he finally feels clean, such a luxury he's been unable to indulge in for quite some time. Perhaps he’s odd in that regard, hating it far more than some of his fellow Primarchs.

He feels you ever so gently brush along a feather to align it with the others, fingers gentle like touching the thinnest glass. His eyes are still closed while you do so. Your gentleness of it isn’t lost on him, as he feels lips against the corner of his mouth.

A rare moment of peace; He'll indulge in it while he has the chance.

#we romance primarchs here sir #primarch x reader #wh40kcrack #warhammer 40k x reader #sanguinius x reader #mywriting #reader insert

[pattywinchester]

Suptober 2023 Day 6 - Full Spread

Dean Winchester reclines in his plush leather swivel chair, the magazine layout spread out before him on his 150-year-old oak desk. His rugged charm and exuberant nature perfectly lend themselves to the fast-paced publishing world. That and his skillful eye for design have made him a bit of a legend in the field, catapulting him to the job of editor before his thirty-fifth birthday.

Meanwhile, in a quiet, unassuming office that up until recently had been a supply closet, Castiel hunches over his computer. Despite his talent and imagination, he has taken up the role of the magazine's resident researcher and fact-checker. Although choosing to be a background player and eschewing the limelight, his quiet and unassuming nature, meticulous attention to detail, and unwavering dedication to accuracy have earned him the editor’s respect.

"Castiel, we need to verify the historical accuracy of the cover piece," Dean calls out from his office. "Will you give it a once-over?"

Castiel looks up and catches Dean's eye through his opened office door. He nods shyly, fixes his blue eyes on his computer screen, and begins typing away.

As the day progresses, Dean asks more and more of Castiel, barking demands as the tension mounts to make the deadline and put this issue to bed. Dean's demeanor leaves no doubt that he’s the boss, and what he wants goes. Cas, true to his nature, meekly does as Dean asks without complaint or hint of ego.

By the end of the day, they are working shoulder to shoulder. Dean adds eye-catching graphics and layouts to the articles, making sure they jump off the page, while Castiel combs through texts and databases, ensuring that every piece is factually sound. The office buzzes with energy, each man contributing their expertise to create the best magazine possible.

As Dean saves his final layout and Castiel shuts down his computer, they exchange a knowing glance.

"Castiel, good work today. I appreciate your hard work."

"Thank you, Mr. Winchester. It's a pleasure."

Dean nods his approval and turns to the remaining staff. "Why don't you guys head out. I'm going to take care of a few things, but there is no reason for you to stay. Great job today, all of you."

As the writers and copy editors gather their things to leave for the day, Dean turns to Castiel and asks, "Would you mind hanging back for a few minutes. I have an idea for next week's feature story, and I want to run some things past you."

"That's fine, Sir. I have no problem staying. Let me finish up here, and I'll meet you in your office.”

Dean offers Castiel a curt nod and turns and walks toward his office, completely missing the suppressed smirks from a couple of the staff.

Castiel waits until the bullpen is empty before making his way to Dean's office. He stops at the restroom along the way. He takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. His hair is a disheveled mess. His glasses have become loose-fitting, so they sit low on his nose. His white button-down is wrinkled, and he notices his tie is on backward. He shakes his head and smiles at himself in the mirror before running a smoothing hand down the front of his shirt.

Dean’s office door is closed, so Castiel knocks before entering.

“Come in, Cas,” Dean calls from the other side.

Castiel enters and finds Dean leaning against the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, and legs spread invitingly. The silk fabric of his black pants pulls taut across the front, generously outlining what lies beneath. Castiel's eyes wander north, noting the exquisite fit of his crisp white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to the elbow, showcasing muscled forearms. Red suspenders lay against his chest in such a way as to accentuate the chiseled nature of his torso.

“Took you long enough to get in here.”

“Did it now, Mr. Winchester?”

Dean huffs out a laugh and unfolds his arms, beckoning Cas in for an embrace.

Cas walks directly into Dean’s arms, slotting himself between his legs and pressing their bodies together before wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and pulling him in for a searing kiss.

This one got away from me at over 2000 words. You can read the rest on Ao3. It’s pretty explicit!

#destiel #supernatural #cas x dean #castiel supernatural #dean winchester #destiel fic #cw supernatural #suptober23 #winchester-reload

[liminalpebble]

Sorry you’re dealing with travel delays! When you mentioned Domhnall Gleeson, though, it reminded me of when I first switched my Siri voice to the British male one. (I was going to say “don’t ask why” but I’m sure you don’t need to.) And my husband and I used my Siri to direct us to the science museum…

My husband looked at me like 😒

“Why is Hux directing us to the butterfly conservatory? 😒”

(It’s just the slightest vocal similarity, and maybe just to him and me, but it made me laugh)

Hello there sweet Lady!

And thank you for the fun prompt. It definitely kept my imagination occupied during the travel blues. I hope you enjoy this little bit of swooning over villainous British voices. This is new for me. I've never written Hux, second-person perspective, gender neutral reader, or a short drabble before, so lots of firsts!

Much love!

Peb

-----

The Sound of Your Cold Voice

Pairing: General Hux x gender neutral reader, second-person insert (no use of y/n)

CW: wartime violence, reader is wounded and captured, implied later smut but none described, implied future dubcon situation. Minors DNI

Word count: 500-600

---

Drifting back from unconsciousness, the first thing you heard was that voice; crisp, cold, polished, sharp enough to enact death by a thousand subtle, strategic, cuts. It was mesmerizing, pulling you back to wakefulness with an iron grip. Your eyelids flutter open to a mere squint under the bright lights and shiny black surfaces. There's something covering your mouth, pushing air into your lungs and you breathe it in desperately.

A mirthless chuckle. “Ah. There you are. Welcome back.” He gives an order and the mask is gone, the air is gone, and his threatening presence seems to steal all of it from the room. “Leave us,” he commands the medical technicians, and you hear them funnel out with a hiss of the door.

It comes back to you; the research station you were working on marred by flames and swarming with storm troopers. You were injured badly and so were your colleagues (the ones who were still alive, anyway). You were shoved before him, hands cuffed behind your back, and soot staining your white lab uniform. His shiny boots striding purposefully towards you were all you could see as your head hung in shock and grief.

“And what have we here?” he inquired, lifting your chin with one long, leather-clad finger.

He didn't expect to be struck by how beautiful your face was; compassionate and clever eyes, a bravery in them despite overwhelming fear. Even covered in soot and abrasions, hair disheveled, it only made him want you more. It jostled his immaculate composure and made him warm under the crisp black uniform, but he would never show it.

You spoke, though your voice shook with fear and anger. “A scientist...just a scientist. This was a peaceful operation, a research facility...Why? Why did you have to do this?”

Hux wasn't accustomed to emotion breaching his Teflon coating of ambition, but something about the vulnerability in your voice made him ache to touch you, soothe you with that hypnotic voice telling you it was all for a greater good, of course, all for order in the galaxy, you sweet innocent darling. He settled on doing so, but with a shield of sardonic teasing.

He tutted, yanking your face to meet his eyes with that icy, gloved hand. Hux peaked his brows in mock sympathy, though his piercing green eyes held none. “Oh, but it is all for the greater good, my dear. You'll see.” His voice dropped to a deep whisper, as his face moved closer. “And it will be my pleasure to personally show you.” As the implication of his words set in, you felt horrified at the unbidden heat rising in your body; the unmistakable fizzle of arousal snaking its way between your legs. He loomed, tall and thin, that brilliant red hair and green eyes reminding you of a fox playing with an injured rodent.

Now, with your back against the cold medical slab, prone and vulnerable and isolated with the dreaded General Hux, terror and temptation swirled within your body. His face, that beautiful lethal face, moved to a hair's breadth form your own as your breaths became shorter and quicker. His hand cupped your cheek gently, this time without the wall of leather between your skin. A tear slid from your eye and he brushed over it gently with his thumb.

“Now, darling,” the general said, with surprising tenderness, “Where were we?”

@ladyofthestayingpower @cloudyfacewithjam @lemongingerart @huxs-side-part

#general hux fanfic #general hux x reader #general hux x gn reader #armitage hux #lovely mutuals #lovely asks #lovely fanfic friends #lovely prompts

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Five (Part 3)

When we get back to my apartment, I have to pay the driver because Marnie can’t find her bag. I think I give him too much money but he doesn’t give me any change. The trip costs more money than I would spend in three days, and I dimly suspect that I will be upset about it in the morning.

I fumble my keys in the lock once we climb to the second floor of the apartment block, and it takes much longer than usual to get inside because the keyhole seems to be in a different place than it usually is, the whole lock moving around exotically in front of my eyes. I don’t turn the lights on, because the effort of finding the switch seems far too great, and we both stumble around in the dark searching for the staircase, my limbs so heavy and lethargic, but I can’t help but giggle as Marnie collides with a dining chair, sending its metal legs shuddering across the kitchen tiles. She starts giggling too, and then shushes me extremely loudly. 

“You shush.” I stage-whisper to her, right as I crash my shins into the coffee table and yelp out in pain, which makes her laugh even harder. A light flips on upstairs. 

“What’s going on?” Comes a clear, sober, and very irritated voice as Claire comes down the stairs in pink satin pyjamas. I’m stricken by how perfect she looks even with messy hair and marks on her cheek from her pillow, and how cretinous Marnie and I must seem in comparison, drunk, dishevelled, and one of us with actual vomit on her top. 

“Sorry.” I say weakly. “We were trying to be quiet.”

She looks us up and down. “Well okay, clearly you’ve after been drinking all night, and that’s your choice, like, but can you not make such a racket when you come in? I was asleep.”

“You weren’t out yourself, no? On a Friday night, like?” Marnie says cheekily, but Claire doesn’t answer, she just stares her down with the kind of venomous disapproval that could make a grown man squirm. 

“Sorry.” I say. “We’ll be quiet. We’ll go to bed and won’t disturb you again.”

“It’s fine, you could just be more considerate next time.”

While Marnie and I lay together in my bed she turns to me and sniffs “Your housemate is a bit of a culchie, isn’t she?”

“What do you mean?” I say, trying not to focus on the way that the bed is spinning beneath me like a the waltzers at a theme park. 

“Like, I mean she’s one of those country girls who’s really boring. She doesn’t know how to have actual fun.”

“She does.” I say defensively. “Just maybe she didn’t feel like going out tonight.”

“In general though, I mean.”

“Mm?”

“She’s got the vibe of someone who’ll marry a boy she met in secondary school, then have kids at twenty five and then live in her hometown for the rest of her life.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything wrong with that.”

“I suppose, but it’s not very interesting, is it? To never learn anything about the world outside of yourself or to experiment or have unique experiences.”

“Do you think that’s what you’re like? Open minded?”

“Yeah. I think we’re both a bit like that. We’re not meant to be caged in, we’re meant to make something of ourselves and to stand out as being different. I like to imagine myself written about in some magazine far in the future, to have been a notable woman with notable things to contribute to society, not just a mother, a wife, the property of some dull, unextraordinary man.”

“Hm.” I say, partially because my focus is still off-kilter, but partially because I’m busy contemplating her image of me, as someone who’s meant for something, someone too big for a banal, traditional existence. I’m enjoying thinking of myself in those terms because it ignites warmth inside me, makes me feel worthy of more.

She’s silent for a long while after that, and I’m beginning to think that she’s asleep when she rolls over to face me in the dark. “I kissed Fiona tonight.” She confesses. “In the bath.”

“Wow.” I slur. “What was it like?”

“It was pretty good. I don’t usually kiss other girls, but she was looking at me like she wanted to. She told me that I’m pretty.”

“Well, you are.”

“Mm.” She agrees.

“Do you fancy her?”

“No, I don’t think so. I was just trying it out. Unfortunately I think I prefer men.”

I chuckle, and then for some reason feel compelled to share something with her too, as though we’re now trading vulnerable moments like football cards. “Something weird happened with Dean tonight.” I whisper, and I hear her body shifting in the blankets to face me again. 

“Why? What happened?”

“He touched my hand. Out of the blue. He grabbed it and started drawing on it with his fingers.”

“And he didn’t like, say anything before he did that?”

“No, and he looked weird.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No, he was just looking.” Speaking is an effort, and I’m not sure I’m making the kind of sense that I think I am, but I don’t really care that much anymore. Everything feels surreal and dreamlike, even the words coming out of my mouth barely feel as though they belong to me. A weighty, sleepy feeling overpowers me and I shut my eyes, feeling myself carried away into the darkness behind my lids. 

I feel her turn over one last time beside me. “Do you fancy him?” She whispers. 

“No.” I say drowsily. “No, I don’t think so.”

Prev // Next

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

[m1d-45]

i was already going thru your response like "real shit?" but then you brought up kaeya and i was like "REAL SHIT?????" he gets to kill the creator in one universe and save them in another. as a treat.

also. just imagine the reaction when they go to get help. maybe they try to hide you somewhere before leaving and pray that you're too exhausted to move. just... showing up disheveled and exhausted, begging for someone to come with them and please, don't ask questions or tell anybody else bc that Will cause even more problems - teddy anon

i imagine like they’ve got some of your blood on their hands from patching you up or just from what’s dripped onto the ground or a trail you left, so they’ve got that going for them at least.

…however, this does make for some interesting situations. picking thoma just because i like him:

he drags himself through chinju forest, a mix of emotions. disgust at the fact that you’ve been treated so cruelly, that a fraud is on your throne. horror at the fact that he perpetrated the hunt, and a bit more at the shimmering blue blood he sees on his clothes and hands. he just has to make it to the estate. between his lord, lady, and the other staff members with visions—or simply medical expertise—you’ll be okay.

but that isn’t his sole focus. no, the reason he’s dragging himself up the steep steps and not simply to konda is because of one meeting he knows is currently happening. one between the kamisatos, or more specifically the yashiro commission, and the creator.

they want a festival planned in honor of their descent. he wants to be sick.

thoma makes it onto the main path, one of the guards spotting him with alarm written all over their face. he knows he looks bad. torn clothes from anemo and geo, a mix of blue and red blood staining skin and cloth, hair sticking to his skin—he’s lost his headband at one point, but he’s not sure where.

“thoma!” the guard gasps, hurrying toward him. he accepts their support and keeps forward, barely mumbling that he needs to see ayato.

the guard obliges, of course, as something that’s beaten him up this badly is surely a threat to the estate, and knocks twice on the meeting room door. thoma doesn’t bother, instead shoving it open, one hand on the doorframe to support himself.

there’s four people in the room, two on each side of a low table. lord and lady kamisato on the side further from the door, seeming shocked at his interruption, and the fake and kujou sara, both looking more irritated than anything.

he points a shaky hand at the one parading themself as god. “you’re a disgrace,” he says, voice weak, and even that slight whisper is enough to get the general of the rival commission to stand—though he assumes she’s here more as their personal guard than a representative.

she draws her bow, hissing out a tense question. “what did you just say?”

ayaka seems shocked, one hand covering her mouth, but ayato… he sees his eyes search thoma for any signs of reason for this out of character behavior, any reason why he would speak out against the divine. he sees the exact moment that he finds the blue blood on his fingers, the stain on the doorframe, the audible gasp before he’s standing as well, pushing past sara to him.

“where?”

a simple question, one that thankfully doesn’t take much energy to answer.

“chinju forest,” he says, and ayato nods, turning to direct the room.

“ayaka-“

“bring her,” thoma interrupts, and ayato looks back in confusion. “and anybody else with a vision.” he waves a hand at his, at the flickering light of pyro, drained, exhausted, and ayato nods.

“then you,” he points to the guard, “stay here. keep up hospitality.” under a thin layer of diplomacy, thoma can hear anger. “ayaka, come with me.”

his lord and lady prop him up between them, dropping him off at a healer before hurrying out into the forest. by this point, black spots are beginning to dance across his vision, the doctor’s voice blurry and muffled.

but it’s okay. he’s saved you, and that’s what matters.

#m1d : [chats] #m1d : [secrets] #teddy anon #‘real shit??????’ is the ONLY response i want ANYBODY to have to my work from now on

[inscrutable-shadow]

Whumptober 2023 Days 4, 18 - wasn't what you wanted (but i had something to give)

@whumptober-archive

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

contains: gore, captivity, vampire whumpees, immolation

too long? read on ao3!

Avrae thought she really should have expected something like this. Waking with the red-hot sensation of silver blistering against bare wrists and frigid air tickling her ribs, perhaps not exactly, but some form of capture or another. One could only be public enemy number one of most of vampire-kind for so long before someone succeeded in kicking the shit out of you. What she genuinely didn’t expect to see was the bruised and battered face of one Thanatos Iuventus, being hauled around by his hair and generally looking worse for wear. He was also shirtless, and covered in what was presumably his own blood, red as it was. Their captors were Daxerine, and everyone knew Daxerines had black blood.

“Well, well, miss Angel of Death. Looks like we’ve caught two birds with one stone. I must admit, when your Harbinger was spotted in the area, I was quite worried, but once we’d caught him, my fears were quickly dispelled.” Avrae recognised this man from the briefing documents: Edric Godfrey, the current Lord Viarossa and the target. He and six of his scions were slated for elimination, leaving the two remaining members of the Viarossa bloodline to be folded into the new House Penumbrae, which was eagerly waiting to seize assets as soon as Avrae reported mission success. Lord Godfrey shook Thanatos a bit, which only served to increase his dishevelled appearance. The limp strands of dark hair clinging to his face, caked with blood and sweat, made him look a bit like a damp raven. Did he always look so wretched? Honestly. Typical Iuventus.

Thanatos’s breathing scraped raggedly from his throat and his eyes (faintly glowing red, a telltale sign of a hungry vampire) darted wildly around the room. He got his mouth halfway around “Ten- ugh…” before his face hit the floor.

Godfrey, who’d dropped him, stepped over his body into the room. “He hasn’t been of particular use to us, I’m afraid. I can’t imagine what you use him for.” The answer to that was obvious, even from here. The runic sigil tattooed onto Thanatos’s chest could be easily read by anyone who understood the magic as a planar focus. It was what let her shadow-walk over long interstellar distances to carry out the hits. Thanatos would go the slow way, and as soon as she was in, he’d take his leave and head for the next destination. She rarely saw him, and to be honest, that was just fine with her. “Fortunately, he brought you right to us. I trust you’ll be of much more use.”

“What the fuck do you want, anyway?” Avrae asked, ignoring Thanatos’s quiet whimpers. 

Godfrey leaned over her, careful not to touch the silver chains. “I want your list. Everyone slated to be executed. Everyone your new council of feral mongrels has deemed unnecessary.” His voice dipped to a malevolent growl as he spoke, and he cleared his throat and swallowed the emotion. Quite a bit of vitriol there, ‘feral’ was an insult vampires reserved for the most absolutely despised.

“Look in a mirror. You’re priority one, asshole.”

Her neck snapped to the side as he backhanded her across the face. This was enough to rouse Thanatos from his stupor of self-pity and put the fear back into his eyes. He pressed himself into the wall, hoping Godfrey would forget about him. Avrae couldn’t tell if he was putting on an act to appear non threatening or if Lord Viarossa had just put the fear of God into him. No time to ponder it, though. “Don’t get smart with me. If you don’t talk willingly, I’d love to convince you. Your friend here can tell you just how much I enjoy it. Get him up,” he ordered, and two other men stepped in to chain Thanatos to the opposite wall in a reflection of her own restraints.

Thanatos didn’t even flinch as the silver closed around his wrists. He was clearly used to it, and the scars on his arms confirmed that. Silver was the only thing that could scar a vampire, and its use was considered taboo for intraspecies disagreements. This ‘Culling War’, as it was being called by people on the wrong side of it, had seen all of those conventions thrown out of the nearest airlock. It was clearly meant to send the message that nothing was off the table, probably not even sunlight. She didn’t see the pale scarring of previously sun-scorched flesh anywhere on Thanatos’s exposed upper body, though, so that was a mercy. Meant they hadn’t been pushed that far yet. For the best, really, even the strongest stomach could turn watching charred skin slough off of muscle. 

“You remember this, don’t you, Harbinger?” Godfrey crooned, tipping Thanatos’s chin up with his left hand and bringing the right up toward an already red mark on the man’s side. The pulsing crackle of an electric baton drew both Avrae’s and Thanatos’s wary attention. “Why don’t we show her what we’ve been doing for the past few days?”

Thanatos went rigid and averted his eyes from the implement, his breathing settling into an uneasy rhythm. He didn’t flinch away as Godfrey brought the arcing electricity teasingly close to his skin. Avrae swallowed. She wouldn’t do him the dishonour of looking away, but it had been several centuries since she’d watched someone be tortured in front of her. That much disuse could make even the most hardened killing machine go soft. Though she’d never been as hardened as others had hoped. She’d always taken too greedily to peace, ached too desperately for normalcy. She would sand off her own sharp edges if it didn’t happen quickly enough on its own. Maybe that’s what had made her brittle, caused her to shatter, a hopeless, broken thing. (She just wanted to be like them.)

The contract had reforged her, made her a weapon again. She’d almost expected it when they’d approached her and offered a new assignment. It had been odd, not being wielded. It had felt good doing what she was made to do. Somehow, it didn’t feel good to watch Thanatos (delicate, rail-thin, craven Thanatos, whose greatest pre-vampiric hardship had been paternal pressure into an annoying career and who’d looked as if he were one cough away from an early grave every time she’d seen him) go through something she would have been expected to withstand as a child. It was just electricity, just pain. It was impossible for it to damage him permanently. Physically, at least. The sunken, haunted eyes told a different story.

The first scream was cautious, curated. Clearly intentional, gauging the atmosphere, probing Godfrey to see how far he wanted to go this time. Hoping that would be the end of it. The second had a bit of despair to its edge.

The third was real.

Long, drawn-out wails of utter agony rang through the small room. Red Lichtenberg figures blossomed across his side, like grasping fingers stretching toward the sigil on his chest. There was nothing Avrae could do to help Thanatos. They would just have to wait until Godfrey got bored. Asking him to stop would be a display of weakness, and she didn’t have the information that would theoretically save him. She didn’t even know who the target after Godfrey was supposed to be yet. Thanatos might, but if he did and wasn’t telling, he had more iron in him than she’d given him credit for.

Minutes pass and Godfrey shows no sign of slowing down. Thanatos gives no suggestion of wanting to beg for the pain to stop, either. His cries are entirely wordless and stop as soon as the prod is moved away from his skin. Either he’s already tried and knows it’s pointless, or it’s his own brand of defiance. Avrae’s tired of it either way.

“Is there a point to this or do you just like hearing him scream? My hearing’s very sensitive, so if it’s the latter, could you move this show somewhere else?” She made a point of ensuring her expression was as bored as possible, something she’d had quite a bit of experience with since becoming nocturnal.

Godfrey rounded on her, shaking the baton under her nose. “It could be you next. Ruin that pretty skin of yours. Unless you have something to tell me?”

“Nope.”

He growled in frustration and tipped her chin up with the end of the prod. “I don’t think you understand the severity of what I’m asking you.”

She smirked, shifting against the silver chains. “No, I think I get it. You think I’m the only method the Council has of getting this done? I’m the merciful route. You could kill me right here and it wouldn’t save you. You could know every name in the ledger and you couldn’t do jack shit about it. Either the High Council does this, or the Galactic Council does. They won’t be kind enough to leave two of your scions. They will gladly exterminate every single one of us. If my options are you kill me or they kill me, I’ll take silver over the stake or the sun.”

Lord Godfrey’s expression hardened into a scowl. “I’m going to leave you two to talk for a moment, and when I come back, I’ll immolate him.” He said the last few words slowly, leaning over her position sitting on the floor. Thanatos’s eyes flickered with some emotion, but quickly returned to glassy diffidence. “Let’s see where we stand after that.” Godfrey indicated to the other two men to leave the room, and the iron door scraped shut.

The room was silent for a few moments, then Thanatos made a sound that might have been a sob, but was stunted and malformed. He took a shuddering breath. “I… don’t want to die, Tenebrus.”

“Well, yeah. Expected as much.” She sighed. “I suppose you want me to get you out of this.” Thanatos said nothing. “You’re nothing but trouble, you know that?”

He blinked slowly. “I apologise.”

It wasn’t really any fun poking at him if he wasn’t going to fight back at all. “Do you have the info he wants?” Godfrey probably had cameras in here, but there wasn’t really any point in bluffing about this. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

He shuddered. “No. They give me the next location once they’ve confirmed you’ve reached the destination correctly. I’ve been here since before then, and I’ve got nothing through the datastream. I don’t know if signals can get through here.”

“Mm. I used your locator to get through, popped into an ambush. These assholes’re lucky I didn’t walk through them. If signals have trouble getting through, the Council might not even know I got here.”

“Would they send someone for you? If they knew?” Both of them knew Thanatos was a bit of a sacrificial lamb for this enterprise. If something untoward were to happen to him, he’d be replaced, simple as. Avrae was a bit more difficult to substitute. The Council might make an attempt at recovery rather than giving her up as lost.

“Dunno. Any chance of your uh… partner?” Most of the rumours about Thanatos, if you heard his name at all, centred around the idea that he was banging an extremely powerful magical being. Avrae didn’t quite believe it, but far be it from her to understand a fae’s sexual preferences.

He hesitated, then sighed. “No. None at all.” This sentence seemed to drain him more than even the torture had.

“They wouldn’t stop you burning to death?”

“Ae’s not available. Won’t even know what’s happened to me for a few years.” Oh. That was… awful, actually. Did this partner of his even know he was out here fighting a war?

“Okay. So we’re on our own then. I can break the chains, but the manacles won’t let me shadow-walk. I’d still be trapped.”

“You’re strong enough even with the silver? I suppose your physical enhancement must truly be S-class.” Sure. Whatever. If that made it easier to believe.

“Door’s silver-lined too. If I can get out of the silver while it’s open, I’ll be able to teleport and it’ll be easy to get you out then.” He had no reason to believe she wouldn’t just leave him there once she was free, but also, if he could have got himself out, he probably wouldn’t still be here.

Thanatos’s brow furrowed. “The only way to get you out would be if he- ah. I may have a solution.” She waited, but he failed to elaborate further.

“And?”

“Trust me. Play along. Let me show you what purpose a Iuventus serves.” His eyes had never looked defeated, except for the brief moment when he’d thought of his partner, but now she detected a glimmer of defiance or even mischief. What was he planning? She nodded, willing to let him take the lead.

He was quiet for several seconds and then raised his voice. “I want to confess! Please! You can’t silence me, Tenebrus. I won’t die for this cause!”

Godfrey immediately opened the door, much too eagerly. “Oh? Finally changed your tune? I almost thought I’d have to use this.” Behind him, his goons wheeled in what Avrae recognised as an ultraviolet spotlight. That thing could render a vampire to ash almost sooner than he could scream. She’d be astonished if Godfrey could watch that without vomiting.

“No, please, I don’t want to die!” Thanatos’s pleading was fervent, almost fanatical. “She can do what she likes to me. I… I can’t die. I’ll give you the information.”

‘She can do what she likes to me,’ eh? Avrae thought she might be picking up what he was putting down. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, you pathetic coward, I’ll make you fucking wish I’d immolate you. You think silver hurts? I’ll flay you and sun bleach your organs. Keep you nice and well fed, so you keep regenerating. You’ll beg for death by the time I’m done with you—”

“Promise me you’ll protect me! If you’ll protect me from her, a-and from the Council, I’ll tell you anything you want to know!” he begged Godfrey, on his knees at the man’s feet, or as close as he could get at the end of his chains.

Godfrey grinned. “Of course, anything you like. We’ll set you up with your own private estate, far away from all of this messy business. The Council will never find you, not even with their bloodhounds.” He shot a glance over toward Avrae. Oh, that was rich.

Thanatos’s laugh was almost manic. “See, Tenebrus? You have no hold on me. You would have to rip the tongue from my mouth to silence me now.”

Oh, okay. “Maybe I will, shitstain!” She pulled hard against the chains, and Godfrey’s eyebrows raised, momentarily alarmed. Yeah, get scared. “Maybe I’ll rip your larynx right out of your throat, see how much you spill then! I should have known when they assigned you to me it’d be something like this. You’ve never been anything but a liability.” It probably wasn’t necessary to drag him this badly, but she really wanted to sell it. “I’ll send you right back to your lover with no eyes, no tongue, and no dick.” One sharp pull, and the silver chain disintegrated.

Thanatos’s shrieks and chokes as her hands wrapped around his neck sounded pretty real, even though she wasn’t actually trying to suffocate him. She hoped he had a plan for this, cause she’d be obligated to actually kill him pretty soon if she didn’t want to lose face. Godfrey’s men were trying to pull her off of him at least, though they weren’t being very successful. She checked behind her quickly, and to her astonishment, they’d abandoned the spotlight blocking the door from closing. If she could get out of the manacles, they were free. The split second her eyes were off of Thanatos’s face let her also be surprised when her wrists erupted in pain.

“What the fuck?” she yelled and immediately dropped him. He’d bitten her, he’d actually fucking bitten her! Hold on. A green substance that was definitely not the typical vampire venom was eating through the metal around her hands. It was melting her flesh too, but that could probably be fixed. She held her arms toward her body to hide what was going on and let Godfrey’s men pull her back.

“Oho, looks like our Harbinger has a few thorns of his own. Don’t worry, Angel, we’ll take good care of him. And you. Once we don’t need you, I’ll take great pleasure in making you answer for what you’ve done.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Avrae murmured as the shackles hit the floor. One blink, and one of Godfrey’s men had a hole through his heart. Another, and the second went down. They were in the dossiers anyway. She’d have had to do it eventually. “Tell me all about what I deserve. I’ll make sure to take note of it. Don’t think you’ll get the chance to do anything about it, though. Why don’t we see what this thing does?” 

She kicked a gobsmacked Godfrey into the path of the spotlight and threw one of her shadow blades at the switch. The spectacle was just as horrifying as she’d imagined. Every inch of the vampire’s skin melted, then charred, then turned to ash, revealing new flesh which then did the same, his whole body bursting into white flame and rendering down to a pile of fine grey dust in seconds. Thanatos whimpered behind her, probably imagining himself in that position.

She turned to him. “Well. That was something. The fuck did you do, anyway?” The only response he gave was a moan, and she realised his lips, fangs, and tongue were being liquefied by the same substance he’d put onto her wrists. He probably couldn’t talk at all. “Were you keeping that acid in your fangs the whole time?” He nodded wearily. “Shadow’s fangs. You’ve got more balls than I thought.” He huffed and looked away. Shit. He was going to need to regenerate, or more likely, some kind of medical care.

She snapped him out of the shackles and heaved him over her shoulder. “You really are no end of trouble.” Thanatos made a sound that might have been a cough and might have been a laugh.

taglist: @albatris, @milkshakes-lust-and-chiral-dust, @thethistlegirlwrites, @athenswrites

#whumptober 2023 #no. 4 #no. 18 #cattle prod #tortured for information #oc #fic #gore tw #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #original fiction #my writing #whumpblr #wip: ieiunusverse #ieiunusverse: the culling war #avrae tenebrus #thanatos iuventus #coy whumps

[yeenybeanies]

Look you’re the only person I know off the top of my head so I’m sorry to call you out but-

Why transformer sexy?? I am intrigued and do not understand but wish to know more??

sdfjsdkfj PLEASE this is hilarious 😂 i would be more than happy to (attempt to) explain why transformer sexy. buckle up, babes, we're going on a journey.

the barest explanation i can give is that a) i find things like aliens, monsters, etc attractive; & 2) transformers are often relatively close in general shape to many human body types i find attractive, while also being so incredibly, distinctly not human, which, in my opinion, makes them all the more sexy. i'll admit too i do find many vehicles sexy, which is another bonus with transformers.

plus. they're B I G.

examples under the cut with some explanations to my own personal attraction, but disclaimer! these are all from the IDW1 comics! & the artists illustrating the comics DID play an important role in robot sexiness.

(i could go into other tf media too, but this is already lengthy sdhfjgh)

SO, let's start off easy. rodimus is a prime (heh) example of a sexy bot. artist: alex milne

the broad shoulders. the narrow waist. the long legs. This is the main, overarching theme. This is the Good Shape™. He's got bright colors & a cocky demeanor. plus he can set himself on fire. those lights on his waist are tasty too. hot damn.

up next, we've got another classic: optimus prime. first two are milne, & third is by nick roche

once again, we have broad shoulders & a snatched waist. we have big arms. we can also see from the second panel that these rigid, mechanical beings can be fairly flexible. plus, who doesn't love a beaten, disheveled man? i know i sure do. bonus points for him too because he's relatively big & tall as far as transformers go, whereas rodimus is average height.

up next is megatron. all of these are milne drawings

personally, i think the black look is better––that's when he turned into a stealth bomber-type plane––but both looks follow the Good Shape. all about that shoulders & waist, baybee. the body language on display here is great, too. more examples of how much freedom of movement these giant robots have.

i can't not talk about my all-time favorite bot, fortress maximus. all three are by milne

he is a bit blocker than previous examples, but that makes sense for a giant powerhouse tank prison warden like himself! & he does still follow the Good Shape. he's massive! he has fun helmet fins! he's got guns in his legs! he's handsome 🥰 (i do also like to imagine voices for lots of the bots, & i imagine his would reduce me to a quivering mess.)

we got some ladies too, don't worry! this is arcee, by casey coller & sara pitre-durocher respectively! look at her thighs, i mean damn! she's also ferocious, & i love that in a woman.

then we have windblade & firestar (milne), & chromia & the mistress of flame (saren stone). the lady bots tend to be curvier in design (but not always), though not necessarily bustier. trust me when i say there are some boobalicious boy bots (*cough*prowl*cough*).

& now for shits & giggles, some bots with exaggerated or unusual body shapes that i also find attractive for one reason or another 🤪 (hayato sakamoto, guido guidi, milne x3)

i have SO many more examples, but we'll be here all day if i keep going 😅

In Conclusion: robbits sexy

#hyena asks #dskfjghf let me show my Whole Ass in an explanation on why i'm a robotfucker #tf #if you don't wanna read it all just look at the pictures. i promise. robots hot #don't look at me

[krowmeats]

I am quickly realizing you can use tumblr for literally whatever so here are cartoon characters that somehow managed to inform my gender identity even though I am a cis man and there is very little to figure out

These are all very stupid and I don't expect a single other human being to gain anything of value from the list. However, it was fun to make this list and I'm probably gonna look at it later and go "huh. neat" which is all you need to know sometimes

Death from adventure time I am not like him in any way he is just a synthesis of what I thought was cool and badass as a teenager and also a normal and kind of lame dude which made me go "Wow, that's achievable and you can do it without being some kind of shithead" The hierophant from adventure time Literally I just want to give off the same general vibe you get looking at him. Nothing about his actual character. I saw him and imagined a guy that was cool in a way that I thought would be fun to be and then kept that mental model in my head and ignored everything else about him Mayonnaise from Split the Room The exact same thing from the hierophant applies here. The only new thing to add is that I used the Mayonnaise mental model when visualizing the story of an Armenian guerilla fighter I was listening to in a podcast and the psychic cross contamination made me have to demote him from Abstract Aspirational Qualities Model Bob Belcher from Bob Belcher's Burgers Despite my total disinterest in Bob as a character whenever I think of the definition of masculinity I have cobbled together for myself his image just hangs out in the back of my head. And you know what yeah he does kick ass in that regard. He's pathetic and level-headed and he's exerting agency to provide for himself and the people he cares about. Good job Bob. The show you came from got kind of boring after a while. Mr Fox from Adventure time This is kind of a cheat one because Mr. Fox didn't inform this, it's more convergent evolution. But the respects in which I have molded my personality to be a specific Kind of Guy in the greater Guy schema have caused me to talk extremely like him. Will I pass through his guy territory onto greener guy pastures? Probably not actually I think I'm calcified. I'm not too torn up about it though Mr Fox from that Wes Anderson movie This one was when I was 14 I don't really think it applies now. I think his whole spiffy suit debonair adventurer schtick sucks actually. He's only on this list because I thought he was cool once and I don't want this list to be 75% tertiary adventure time characters Buck from Ice Age This one I was even younger and emulating him exactly is probably gonna be worse for you long term than Mr Fox (Wes anderson) but even despite that and the whole Grizzled Mountain Man(tm) thing I like him a bit more. There is a Buffoon quotient and an Extremely Disheveled quotient there that has embedded itself into my worldview.

#adventure time #bobs burgers #the fantastic mr fox #ice age #the last two aren't endorsements just to be clear they just wormed myself into my social schema when I was 12 #fandom

[galedekarios]

i wanted to let myself think about gale’s redesign a bit and now that i’ve speedrun the game up to a certain point, here are my thoughts on it since larian asked for feedback:

what i like

the new hair looks very good. i like the slightly tousled, dishevelled look. i can see gale being stressed over his condition, worrying, running a hand through his hair, thinking, so that makes sense to me. another thing i like are the greying strands. i’ve been trying to put them into my art whenever i draw this character and it always has been a personal favourite headcanon of mine.

his colour palette is warmer again, the extreme darkness in him from patch 7 is gone. i always thought he looked much too cold and dark in patch 7: his hair, his eyes, the beard, the extreme dark circkles. returning to his warmer colour palette is a welcome change. gale, to me, is a kind and gregarious character so to see that reflected in the colours again in patch 8 is great.

the addition of the tattoo is a nice touch. i can only imagine that it’s possibly something magical to keep the netherese orb at bay. it’s a neat detail and i love the design of it.

the overall facial tweaks are something i can live with if larian is working on trying to adjust them. the face looks quite different in the screenshot, yet when i played the game and saw it animated, it still looked very much like gale. i can see it being a bridge between gale’s original model in the game and his key concept art.

what i don’t like

the beard looks awful. it changes too much of his overall face shape from a more rounded face to a more square one. it looks extremely unrealisted in-game, almost as if it were painted on. it also deviates too much for me, personally, from the key concept art and what gale used to look like while also leaning too much into generic male video game character-looks for me. 

the earring feels extremely out of character for gale to me. even putting aside his backstory, i can very much see him as a mystrian wanting to have a symbol of his goddess with him, yet it has too much of a rogue-ish zevran or awakening anders vibe to me in a way that gale just doesn’t have. again, this is just my opinion, but i feel like a nice ring or amulet would make more sense for him. 

the removal of his moles and lessening the intensity of his scars is another thing that i, personally, don’t like. they gave his face a lot more character. i don’t understand why this was something that had to be changed. i liked how imperfect gale’s skin was, fine lines, blemishes, moles, scars and all.

in the end, after nearly two years of getting know and becoming attached to a character, i find it very jarring to change his appearance so profoundly. i realise the game is in early access, but i think a change like this should have happened earlier if it need to happen at all.

#gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #just my own thoughts #what i personally would like to see is the return of his patch 1-7 beard #get rid of the earring #and give him his concept art armour #then please stop tweaking him and focus on other things #thank you to my friend vayne for the hi-res screenshots of gale's new design #ch: gale dekarios

[isolated-bug]

How do you think silco would deal or react with grief if jinx had died on the bridge?

OO this is a HARD one!!! Well, first off. I think pure rage. This would further fuel his anger towards Piltover as he would blame them and their tech and their superiority complex as the ultimate cause of Jinx's death. He arrived after Vi, Cait, and Echo had gone so he would not know any of them were involved.

But in addition to that i think it would harden him. He had finally opened his heart up just the tiniest bit to care about someone and something other than his cause. I think that if the series had continued with Jinx dying and Silco remaining, we would have seen a Silco that was more cold and cruel than his initial introduction. I imagine he would have been more demanding of his staff and more punishing to their failures. Outbursts of rage in his private chambers after meetings that didnt go his way etc. I imagine he would have thrown objects in these outbursts. I think it would be similar to the rage fit he had when he failed to capture Vi after all of his posturing and feeling so confident. When he picked up his lackeys and threw them back down to the ground. Kicking the shimmer addicts, etc. I think that level of reaction would have become the new norm when someone frustrated him. I imagine a lot of escalated reactions in discussions ending with a disheveled appearance as he shouts his final say-so while looking around the room at the terrified faces. and then, breathing heavily, he would try to straighten out his hair and dismiss whatever guests were there with a lot of snark. The dismissal being less of a courtesy or suggestion and more of a command. I imagine Sevika getting worried he has lost it and maybe even eventually leaving his ranks. I also imagine he would have kept the trinkets from Jinx and they would become prized possessions. Maybe something that every now and then he finds himself staring at for too long. Perhaps the only things that give him any sense of peace or grounding. Thinking, like a proud dad, how Jinx could have done x or y thing better and gotten a solution for him. I dont see him putting up any statues etc of her. I think he didnt care what the world thought of her so some grand structure like that wouldnt be necessary. But i also imagine you would be fucked if you happened to say anything negative about her in his presence. Ultimately i dont see him going into any substance abuse. His drive always seems to be fueled by his negative emotions. So if anything, he would grow his business even more. Silco is scary that way. He doesnt, generally, self-sabotage with rage like most do. Instead he uses it as a tool to become more powerful and design goals. But i definitely see him as a "burn the city to the ground" type of reaction. I think Piltover would have seen a very violent war from a very brazen nothing-left-to-loose Silco. It would be awe inspiring and horrific. Piltover would know the fury of Zaun. And finally i see him becoming less human. Yes he certainly is already on the more despicable end of the spectrum, certainly. But i see him loosing all sense of humanity and compassion. I see him no longer necessarily leaning so heavily on gentle/subtle manipulations and instead leaning harder on the intimidation end of the spectrum. He certainly uses that already, but i see that becoming the more dominant trait. I would love to hear if you agree or disagree or have completely different ideas or thoughts etc!

#arcane #silco #speculation about what if Jinx died #how do you all think it would have gone? #So many options and opinions and mine is just a tiny drop in a big pool!

[eddie-scarpa-lived]

idk how in-character this feels but i'm imagining eddie confronting henry over the drug dealing and initially saying something like "where's the money?"–something where henry's pretty sure what he's talking about, but that doesn't outright mention the drugs so he can't be 100% certain–and henry tries to play it off, asks him what he means (if there's even a slight chance he's wrong, he isn't about the reveal himself) and eddie just smacks the shit out of him without warning. that, or...he seems relatively under control at first, but when he says something about breaking the rules, henry brings up that carlo's doing the same thing, and that's when eddie hits him. it's a far cry from his usual "get really pissed for a few seconds and then calm down" routine and that scares the shit out of henry (in fact i think i have a drafted scene of the latter option, somewhere). bonus if eddie is stone cold sober for once. idk i just love the drama of eddie just going after him out of nowhere without really blowing up the way henry himself tends to, just...icy cold anger.

oh i am totally with you on this one! I think this is actually the first time Eddie actually shows Henry how scary he can be - because I assume he was kinda "ok" with the failed hit on Galante (somehow; maybe he naturally tried to believe into the "Galante at least left the city so that's a win"), but now, everything comes crashing down at Eddie and he's really stressed and worried - maybe Carlo's being more paranoid, also Eddie had to deal with the shit after Vito's house burnt down (remember how Vito says "There was even some trouble with the cop, but Eddie took care of that" at the beginning of chapter 12?), and like generally things are not looking that great.

Also, I think it's important to mention that - at least according to the Frankie Potts files - Eddie was not that keen on doing the drug business with Carlo either.

so naturally, when he learns about Henry doing the business (plus he probably connects it with the shootout at the Sea Gift Co.?), he gets angry not only because Henry is breaking the rules, but also because he's doing something what he himself is kinda opposed to, and also he probably has a lot of other shit to deal with. Plus of course Henry already failed the hit on Galante (and Eddie knows about it, judging by Vito's words - "Even though Henry failed to deliver on the contract, Eddie still brought him in when he heard Leo had skipped town")

so Eddie knows that this former Clemente guy who fucked up one big task already and was given a second chance by him personally (I doubt Carlo knows), has started doing what he is opposed to with Carlo (but with Carlo, Eddie quietly accepts the drug business since he's the boss and also because of their personal relationship). with Henry, he just feels betrayed.

i'm pushing into this also my own agenda of "Henry and Eddie growing closer during the two months between chapters 11 and 12"", where maybe Eddie for once feels like he has a true friend - and I'm thinking maybe he even somehow let a couple of information slip (about the drug business Carlo is involved in) - and now he feels like the moment of weakness and vulnerability backfired and Henry fucked him over

so I wouldn't be surprised if he really lashes out and threatens to kill Henry (although Carlo only sent him to collect the money; but Eddie is a bit drunk and also lets his personal feelings take over for a moment)

but, after all, he blames himself more than Henry actually. so in the end, he would shake his head and say something like. "how could I ever trust you?" and just snatches the money from Henry.

edit: maybe he is not drunk at all but looks a little bit like his usual “drunk” self, but it’s all just because he’s disheveled and it’s the passion and hatred and madness of the moment, and maybe Henry says “Eddie, you’re drunk” and it makes Eddie completely fly off the handle and be like “Don’t you dare” - because he was always berated by Carlo for “being drunk” whenever he tried to talk about some stuff or do some stuff

#i mean this should all come up in the A Friend of Ours story #once I get to actually finish more chapters hehehe #eddie scarpa #henry tomasino

[isiratrieswriting]

Nocturnal Heart

It’s a moonless night, the thick clouds obscuring any trace of stars that could have kept me company on this lonesome errand. Walking on pavements that glisten treacherously under the glow of worn-out streetlamps, I take each step cautiously, my footfalls echoing in silence.

It had rained earlier. Shadows pool in corners, inky, writhing, as if with a mind of their own. Something scurries in the darkness before disappearing into the void. My breath hitches in my throat, and I can almost taste the faint scent of decay, lingering in the air-

A low, ominous rumbling in the distance. Thunder.

It’s going to rain again soon.

I reach into my coat pockets for my phone, the light of the screen washing me in a pale, ghostly hue. It is 02:43 AM-the world slumbers away, while I am awake.

Why am I awake?

Having rummaged the fridge for a quick midnight bite, I had found only empty tins, their labels tantalizing. I was fresh out of snacks.

I hate going out this late. Alone. I usually get my supplies with my friends. It’s fun doing it with them.

There have been certain incidents lately. People slaughtered in dark alleyways, as grotesquely as you could imagine. Blood and bones around the bodies. Flesh carved out, organs missing. Some speak in hushed tones, of vampires, werewolves and other devilish work at play. The less imaginative ones settle on trafficking rings that prey on lonely travelers.

It starts to rain. The drizzle is loud, punctuated by the occasional thunder. I wrap my coat tighter and turn up the collars. The cold pierces my limbs and I rub my hands together and blow on them, a feeble attempt at generating some warmth.

Which is why it took so long to feel another’s presence behind me.

I pause.

“Who’s there?” I ask the void, the darkness enveloping anything and everything. It stares back. The fog curls around and I don’t know what to look for. My heart is pounding now.

Until I experience an eerie sensation-that of one’s hair standing on the back of the neck.

I make out a humanoid shape. A stocky, well-built man. Panic grips me and my knuckles turn white as I clutch my bag too tightly.

I turn around and quicken my footsteps. He realizes that I have seen him and changes his game. The strides grow longer. And louder. I am being chased.

A primal instinct fills me - dread, anxiety? A bit of that, but also something more. Something insatiable. I find myself fumbling in my head, unable to name this emotion. It is always the same.

There is a familiar alley to my left that I often use as a shortcut. Darting quickly and hiding behind rusting trash cans, I finally catch a glimpse of my pursuer.

Disheveled. Drenched. Drunk too, probably. I can smell it.

There is a perverted glint in his eyes, as he scans the dirt and grime around, searching for prey. He has one hand in a pocket, could he be holding a knife? The rain is pouring down harder now. He might give up and leave at this rate.

That would be unfortunate.

Because he’d make a good snack.

“Man found dead in alley by morning shift workers on their way to factories. His chest cavity is hollowed and several organs are missing. The attack is similar to what we have been witnessing over the past days. Police are investigating the matter. Citizens are urged to stay alert and report any suspicious activity-”

The morning news report is cut short. Perhaps because of the thunderstorm. Not that I really care.

I finish restocking all the tins and put them back, except for the one labelled ‘heart’. Licking my lips in anticipation, I sigh in content. I can have my snack at last.

Vampires and werewolves- the rabble is always so dramatic with their hypothesis.

We’re just cannibals.

#works #unexpected writing request #i dont usually write horror #the process was interesting