INTERVIEW WITH A WRITEBLR - A Writeblr Event

TW: Whump

CW: crying, blood, bruising

It was all behind him now. He was out. He was free. All he had to do was get to his friends and heal up. The bruises on his wrists bled a little, as he stumbled down the dark street. He roughly wiped away tears from his face, hardly able to stand. His very soul shook, the tremors spreading to his bones, his muscles, his tendons.

He leaned against a wall, lightheaded from exhaustion. He wasn't used to walking everywhere. Flying was just so much more convenient. But any qi usage would mean capture as Thomas would no doubt be scanning for any large qi use. In this pitiful state, it wouldn't even be a fight. All Dené could hope right now is that he almost died and got a boost after he healed up.

He fell to his knees and screamed. A gutteral scream that was borne from his heart. A scream, not of pain or anger, but of release. As did his tears, so too did his scream lift a weight from his shoulders. He shuddered before standing up. At least, trying to. His legs gave out and all he could do was kneel as rain began to fall. A calming, cleansing, light rain that romantics danced and proposed in. The moon played across the water dreamily, almost mocking Dené's predicament.

But as quickly as it had come, it was no longer. At least, not on his back. He looked up. It was a woman holding a rather large umbrella, one who looked quite established, that she was not one to be trifled with.

"Hi. Um, you look like you need some help."

"I just need to get to my friends and I'll be alright."

"Well based on the sound of your throat and your posture, I'd say you need a bit more than that, young man." Dené growled and lashed his tail before shoving himself upright and looking at the woman who happened to be considerably taller than him. "Well?" she questioned. She looked like Lady Dimitrescu, but felt more like a mother bear, perfectly willing to kill, but only as a means to protect.

"Fine," Dené muttered and the lady called her chauffeur.

"And we'll need to do something about that... mane you have. At least make it look nice."

After the drive, she showed him to a bedroom and its bathroom. "I trust you know what to do from here." She got him a change of clothes, a cloth, and a towel.

When he looked in the (rather expansive) mirror, he saw someone he didn't recognize. Someone who was weak, helpless, ill-maintained. Not the former general of a military based on strength and order. He ran his fingers through the tangled mop that was his hair and came to an abrupt stop at a wad of knots. He started the shower, stripped, then stood under the hot water.

It was then that tears started to flow. Silent tears of helplessness, weakness, inferiority, and fear. Tears of despair, conflict, and emptiness. He cleaned himself then set to working out the knots, but he didn't quite have the patience, so got out of the shower, dried off, put on the clothes he was given, and went to find the woman.

But then, his nose caught the strong scent of food, the strongest of which was the smell of chicken noodle soup, with celery, carrots, onion, garlic, and basil. It was this smell which led him to a dining room where the woman sat, as if she was waiting for him. Now she wore a silk nightgown, making her look more like a rich MILF from some cheesy anime than an evil, centuries-old vampire dominatrix.

They ate, but before Lady Borea sent him to bed, she had him sit with her in front of the fireplace as she worked out the knots in his hair. Before she was done with the first one, he was asleep.

Suckle

had a fascinating english class that resulted in the notes header “the forcefeminization of victor frankenstein”

“I hide behind sarcasm because telling you to go fuck yourself is considered rude in most social situations.”

— Unknown

So I just saw a post by a random personal blog that said “don’t follow me if we never even had a conversation before” and?????? Not to be rude but literally what the fuck??????????

I’ve had people (non-pornbots) try to strike conversation out of nowhere in my DMs recently, and now I’m wondering if they were doing that because they wanted to follow me and thought they needed to interact first. I feel compelled to say, just in case, that it’s totally okay to follow this blog (or my side blog, for that matter) even if we’ve never talked before.

Also, I’m legit confused. Is this how follow culture works right now? It was worded like it’s common sense but is that really a thing?

Angels Prompts

Angels are not the cute, fluffy creatures the world likes to see them as. They are powerful warriors and are not here to coddle humans.

The wings of an angel are high maintenance and so almost every angel has a companion who helps them out with keeping their wings ready and beautiful.

Sometimes angels like watching over their humans laying in bed. Those destructive little creatures look so peaceful when they are asleep.

All angels are supposed to be siblings. And they do have a family dynamic between them - a very toxic one.

They have been on earth for millennia. Nothing can shock them anymore. Or so they thought.

An angel's wings are powerful, made for flying and fighting. But they are also incredibly soft and wonderful to be surrounded by.

Loving humans as an angel also means watching a lot of them die.

The angels are wandering the world looking like regular people. But if you watch more carefully, it's actually pretty easy to spot one.

They have a job to fulfill, giving to them millennias ago, and almost nothing could get them to abandon that job.

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

*The group is getting into the car*

Damian: I’m driving.

Wonderboy!reader, out of view: Shotgun!

Billy, turning to face reader: Aww! But you had it on the way here-

Everyone except reader: WOAH-

Wonderboy!reader, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! And I want the front seat! *Pumps gun*

Just As Bad

Stinger pointed his gun at Artichoke.

"If you kill me, you'll be just as evil as me."

Stinger smirked.

"And yet no one will think of me like that. You're Public Enemy Number One, not me. And I'm a bounty hunter. The morality of good and evil don't exactly matter." He dropped the gun, pointing his finger at Artichoke and firing between the eyes. Artichoke slumped over, dead.

How to show emotions

Part VI

How to show insecurity

not holding/breaking eye contact

fidgeting

crossing their arms

trying to cover up their body

making themself seem smaller

playing with their hands

hiding their hands in their pockets

holding their head down

blushing

clearing their throat

biting their nails

biting their lips

nervous laughter

stuttering

How to show being offended

stiffening up

hard line around the lips

frozen stare

narrowing of the eyes

turning their head to the side

quickening heartbeat

turning red

making themself bigger, ready to fight

How to show compassion

gentle and soft smile

relaxed facial features

softening of their eyes

openly showing how they feel

leaning towards the other one

nodding along, not directly interjecting, but encouraging

deep breaths inbetween

gentle touches to comfort

How to show being pleased

big smile/grinning

laying head slightly to the side

moving one shoulder up

pursing their lips while smiling

very open body language

leaning back

Part I + Part II + Part III + Part IV + Part V

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

reblog if you’re okay with people writing fanfics of your fanfics and/or fanfics inspired by your fanfics