#bashing my brain with hammers!

[rocketbirdie]

please don't go. if i lose you then there won't be anything left of me

[wuntrum]

soooo artistically frustrated rn because i want to make big and cool things but i keep getting wrapped up in the big picture and the micro details simultaneously and not. actually making what i want to make. blegh

[reese-is-dum]

CEO of stranger danger. I dont know you? Ive never seen you? get the fuck away from my car i dont care who you are

[sodrippy]

so fucking lame when i spend an hour reading and think 'fuck im wasting so much time' oh yeah? youre wasting time bc youre a slow reader? but the literal eight hours of television you watch a day (reruns mind you!) is fine? thats a productive use of your time? get real

[tirednapentity]

if anyone ever accuses me of being fake or insincere I wouldn't even be mad I would just be confused. do you earnestly think I would choose to act this way? hell no!

[stpansy]

getting the looming feeling someone hates you because they responded to you with periods is literally insane given that it’s just proper grammar however. well. i guess i’m crazy

[mayoiayasep]

:/

[validark]

My head fucking hurts so bad :(

[writing-dilemmas]

depression fucking sucks because why is there nothing wrong with my life, but I literally cannot get out of bed right now

[heartfullofleeches]

Pretty Crooked Teeth

Fem Creep Yan + Creepy Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death and gore. 

-

She'd be numb to it by now if anyone else said it. Those four haunting words. 

“You should smile more.” 

She was only six years old when she first caught ear of the phrase. A permanent stain on her self image before she could even button her sweater properly. The holes were aligned correspondingly to their clasps yet her small, tear eyes were useless to guide her through the thickened wool of her sweater. Her hands weren't of much use either, bandaged thumbs mistaking splits in the fibers as their true goal. 

After that day she questioned whether people saw her the same. A pretty sweater with too many holes. 

“I heard your parents left work early to see you perform in the play today, Callie. Why don't you show them a big smile to show how happy you are to see them?” 

The worst part was she was already smiling. A tight lipped fraction of the cheesy grin common for girls her age,but a smile nonetheless. 

It was her teeth they wanted to see. It was her teeth that ruined any chance of finding her place in a new world. 

“Oh… Calliope. Maybe it's better if you showed a little less teeth.” 

And the cycle began. 

When her permanent set grew in she thought she had second hope. Away from the neglect and abandonment of her birth family, she had the proper resources and the firm, yet patient hand of her new parents to start her on the right path. If there's one thing that people will do, it's pointing out flaws you never knew you had. 

“They're a bit crooked don't you think?” 

“What happened to your front tooth? You'd look so much prettier if you got that fixed.” 

And the list went on. She was used to it by the time she began high school, made new friends, met you. To call herself your friend felt like misjudgment of whatever was going on between you, but when you spoke she clung onto every word. It was a relief to know she wasn't the only freak there. It was comforting to have someone listen to her even if they never replied to a word of her suffering. 

Then why…. 

“Because you want to.”

Does she?...

“I saw it. Back when that guy who spilled cola all over me tripped and broke his nose. You were laughing along with everyone else- until you saw me staring at you. You always hide your smile when I look at you.” 

After hearing the same crap for the bulk of her life, her mouth has become her biggest insecurity. So much so her happiness is an afterthought in the presence of the person she cares for most in the world.

“Smile more, or don't. Are you even living if you allow people to dictate every action you make for the rest of your life? If I acted on my impulses, I'd likely be in a padded cell somewhere, but if one of us can have what they want then take it.... If it helps, I think your teeth are cute. They'd leave an interesting bite wound.”

Smile more, huh….

Calliope shifts anxiously on her feet, knees burning with anguish and the fading rush of adrenaline. Her nose crinkles as she levels herself with the potent stench of her sweat, fusing with the aroma of death. 

Hooking her arms beneath the body's armpits, Calliope props their limp weight against her chest - grabbing a fistful of what remains of their hair as she positions her phone on the window above her. Slicked fingers tamper her progress. The woman cleans her blood drenched fingers on the front her first, before finally setting the timer on her phone. 

Calliope yanks back on their hair, angling the mangled head so that its shattered jaw welds itself close. This is her time. Though there aren't many teeth left, their pearly shine might take away from her moment. Had she brought pliers it would've been another story. Bashing their skull in any future might leave you stumped as to who this person was. And she doesn't want that. 

Posing two fingers up with her thumb and remaining thumbs clumsily gripping her prized possession, brain matter drips from the head of the hammer like butter off a hot knife.

“C-cheese!” 

-

It's after midnight when you receive her text. Crimson blooms along the back wall of your darkened bedroom as the photo loads in full. Your single word reply gives Calliope the key to the shackles that have chained her to an existence filled with misery and torment.

“Cute. ♡” 

[hazbinshusk]

would u be willing to write a friends to lovers for husk x reader? reader gets very shy and blushy around husk and he just thinks its adorable (i know u usually only write smut so if u don’t feel like writing this its ok!)

no, I love writing fluff! I just tend to get a lot of requests for smut (plus, I'm a horny little fucker, so my own brain gets that way often lol). but I love fluff and my boys definitely deserve it! sorry for the wait, and thanks for being so patient! <3

combined with a kiss prompt because the imagery was so damn cute!

prompt #30: a kiss to the palm of the hand

“Ya gonna get me a refill, Husky, or am I gonna have ta work for my buzz?” Angel asks, sliding his glass back across the bar. It leaves a streak of condensation along the polished wood, and the bartender in question wipes it away before it can leave a mark. “Cause not for nothin’, ya give me a solid two minutes to blow ya mind and ya back out, and you’ll be pourin’ me free drinks ‘til the end of time.”

Husk fixes the spider with a glare of well-practised exasperation. “I ain’t chargin’ ya for drinks to begin with.”

Angel winks at you before waggling his eyebrows at Husk lasciviously. “So, does that mean I’ll get somethin’ better than cheap booze if I put out?”

Husk shrugs, speaking into the neck of his own drink – a dark green bottle half-gone over the last hour. “My foot up your ass?”

“Ooh, kinky!” Angel crows. “Never figured ya for the type with a foot fet—”

“Can it,” Husk bites out, and Angel cackles. “Alright, you’re cut off.”

You giggle as Angel gasps dramatically, and Husk’s smile twitches wider as he meets your eye. It makes you flush, the way his eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he turns back to watch Angel go through the motions of playfully begging for ‘just one more, mister bartender’. Still, you notice the cat demon’s gaze flicker back to you again, and you busy yourself with your drink, hoping the cool liquid will combat the heat burning in your face. You were being silly, you knew that – Husk was your friend, he shouldn’t have this kind of effect on you.

No, this was some stupid little momentary crush that would disappear in the next few days.

Because he was your friend.

Damn it.

You straighten slightly as you realise the other two at the bar are staring at you – you said the last part out loud.

“Just, uh…” you gesture vaguely at the empty glasses. “Cut off. Damn it.”

Husk raises a brow, an amused quirk to his lips. You meet his eye, a bashful smile creeping over your face again despite yourself. Angel glances between the two of you and makes a show of rolling his eyes as he pushes himself up off his stool. “Ooookay… if you two are gonna be weird about it, I guess I’ll go ta bed. Ya happy now?”

“Noooo,” you coo with a pout, too late. “Don’t go…”

Angel smirks playfully at you, a sparkle in his eyes that belays the complaints he’d just made. “Too little, too late, toots. ‘s okay… I’ll go spend some quality time with Nugs and you two can go about makin’ moon eyes at each other or whatever ya do when I ain’t around.”

Christ, could your face get any hotter?

“Jus’ go to bed, Angel.” Husk deadpans, and the porn star grins, giving him a smarmy wink that makes the cat smirk despite his best efforts not to.

Angel stops long enough to smack a kiss against your cheek, blowing another to the bartender. “Love ya too, Husky. Try not to dream about me too much; I jus’ don’t know if ya old heart can take all the excitement.”

Husk lets out a string of half-hearted curses at Angel’s retreating back, the spider’s laughter echoing off the high ceilings.

There’s a moment of silence that falls between the two of you after Angel leaves – it would almost be a comfortable one if it weren’t for the way your heart was still hammering against its cage – before Husk reaches across the bar top to top off your glass with his own bottle. The soft clink of glass meeting glass and the liquor splashing is the only sound for a moment. Then you glance up to find Husk watching you, a soft smirk on his mouth and an eyebrow raised in amused curiosity.

“You okay, doll?” he asks, his voice a quiet rumble that settles wonderfully in the middle of your chest. “I ain’t never known you to be the type to get that boozer’s flush.”

Your brow furrows, and he surprises you by reaching out and touching a claw to your cheek. It’s a brief, glancing touch, but your next exhale comes shakily because of it.

“You’re all red,” he says by way of explanation, voice still soft. That smile is still curving his lips, and God, does it make your whole self feel light and fluttery. “You okay?”

You nod hurriedly – unconvincingly – and Husk huffs a quiet chuckle, lifting the bottle back to his lips. “If you say so. ‘s cute, though.”

Fumbling for a response, you swallow back the rest of your drink. You cough as it burns horribly in your throat, and Husk’s smile – and amusement – grows. “Well… who says you aren’t all red-faced under that fur?” you retort once you have your breath back, words slurring ever so slightly. “Maybe you’re worse than me.”

Husk breathes another laugh, waving a hand towards his face invitingly. “You’re welcome to check, doll.”

The booze is apparently enough to make you daring, and you reach over the bar before you can think about any implications. Like the fact that Husk has just invited you to basically pet him.

You stroke careful, trembling fingers through the fur of his cheek, the tip of your tongue wetting your lips as you feel that soft, soft fur under your fingertips. Husk’s eyes close and he exhales, his shoulders rising and falling with the depth of it. When they open again you find yourself staring back at him, the thin gold rings of his irises burning into you and sending a wonderful sense of warmth through you that had nothing to do with whatever the hell he’d been pouring into your cup.

Husk’s paw comes up to curl around your wrist, soft fur and heart-shaped pad pressed against your skin. His voice comes softly, almost…  playful. “Your hand is shaking. You okay, doll?”

You nod slowly, your breath caught in your throat.

“Good.” Husk smiles, and your eyes widen as Husk pulls your hand away, turns his head, and presses his lips to the palm of your hand. “You had me worried there.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[ell-does-stuff]

MAKING A BIG OL POST OF EVERYTHING I GOTTA SAY ABOUT THE NEW SPOOKY MONTH BECAUSE HOLY SHITTTT THERES A LOT

‼️‼️SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY‼️‼️

THE THIEVES ARE BACK WOOOOOOOO!! IVE MISSED THEM SM

also eepy lila

while gathering images for this ive noticed that the "pile of dexter" as im calling it is staring at the thieves the whole time they're in the attic (specifically fat thief)

is he somehow still alive???? just possessing a pile of dead doll????????

so cool to see the big ass spider get some actual relevance!! def gonna be important next episode for sure

ROSS'S DAD!!!!!!!!

also jaune is so pretty with her hair down like omggg... love to see her being such a supportive friend to lila as well

"are you throwing away dad's stuff mom?" WAAAAAA MY POOR BABYYY IM GONNA CRYYY

HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN

theyre so me

DEXTERRRRJRJRJRHSHSHDBBDBSB!!+!!!!!(!!

"this cat looks sick im taking it to the vet" BULLSHIT i know what you are. 👁️👁️

DEXTER'S MOM!?!?????!?!?!?!?!!!??? i had no idea she would ever show up like wow i did not expect to see her at all

poor little babies and their lack of parents

ok sorry ik im joking here but MAN this scene made me feel bad 😭😭😭

THE FUCK.

pretty sure this dude is the same guy as the "costume bob" in the last episode??? i felt bad for him last time but here he seems like kind of a pathetic and weird ass man ngl lol

RADFORRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!(!!(;+;!;(;;(;??;(;;!!(+!!++!(++!

HES SUCH A GOD DAMN SILLY NERD MAN LIKEEEEE "he even sounds like he does in the movies!!!!!!" BROOOO I LOVE HIMMMMMMMMMM DJJDGWHDHSHFH

he is EXACTLY how i pictured he would be!! my brain is not gonna shut up about him for the next few days i just know it HAHAHAH

also my caramelpopcorn (thats their ship name right?? or was it candycorn??? i forgor lol) heart is completely full, i loved actually seeing him and kevin canonically interact, they are perfect <3

HES IN THE CANDY CLUB OUTFIRTBD RJSHNF EBDJFBSBDJC EJDUFBEBW DKXN SCUEBFNFBRJSJCJCHDB!!!!(!!!!!;+;(;!!(+!!

"im... uh... like an uncle!!" "i just wanna help the children..." BROO??? feeling kinda bad for frank rn, these are like the only kids he genuinely cares about and hes being turned away from em

ik hes a shady guy but STILL

GREGOR LOOKS SO GOOFY DOING THE DANCE JDBDHSHFHD LIKE WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THATTTTT

also i made this gif myself yall better like it

aaaaaaaaaand dexter's mom is dead.

like son like mother i guess 💀

love how ignacio's door has small little boards on it from when they bashed it with a hammer HAHAHHA

also, looking at the inside of ignacio's house, is that john's family on the little table there???

one of the images in the arg gives a better look at this, but i had no idea it was in IGNACIO'S HOUSE of all places. why does he have that??? and right by the gun too.... what is this silly cult man planning......

(the arg image in question if yall were wondering)

"we understand you" "we're here for you dude" "thank you guys, i just wish things weren't so..." HATZGANG FRIENDSHIP WAAAAA!!!!!

also ROY HAS BEEN THROUGH SHIT MY POOR GUYYYY i wanna hug him mannnn 🥺

IMAGE LIMIT IS KILLING ME SO IM GONNA REBLOG THIS WITH MORE SHIT TO SAY BECAUSE I AM NOT DONE MANNN‼️‼️‼️‼️

[rinovarka]

Grimlock, Technobots, and Purpose

The G1 Transformers cartoon is mainly episodic and not indepth with its characters opting to focus on a wide cast and adventures. Some may say it was solely just to sell more toys and merchandise, and I can wholly disagree. But I can't wholly agree either. There are some ideas that stay ideas, or fleeting moments of the heart that make me tear up, or have stood the test of time as other people are able to recall.

And for me personally, one of said concepts is Grimlock and the Technobots.

Grimlock and the other dinobots were built by Ratchet and Wheeljack. In both cases, introduced to them by people of Earth, in enthusiasm to help the cause, as well as a general appreciation of the former rulers of Earth.

Sure, they were built to be Autobots to be brute force warriors, but also for the pure joy of an appreciation to the creatures of Earth's past. But purposely made with the assumption that dinosaurs were stupid, therefore they must be made stupid too. And it wasn't the grandest of starts for the first three.

Throughout the series the Dinobots are belittled and seen as lesser beings. Their intelligence and way of speaking mocked. Their loyalty shakey. They occasionally make remarks about their relation to the Autobots. They were made this way. And not even Wheeljack and Ratchet are immune to making jabs at them — and they MADE the Dinobots. To focus on what in front of you, to have innate instincts, to dig into the Earth, to be animalistic— primitive, less than a person, even.

Then fast forward past the Transformers movie where their creators get BBQd because Hasbro needs a new set of toys! And just so happens that the Dinobots are in good standing as far as sell-ability goes.

Then there is the episode, Grimlock's New Brain.This episode begins by really hammering it in how Grimlock wants to help but since he doesn't know as much as the other characters, is prone to mess things up. Something is missing. A brain. Que another scheme by Galvatron and co, and the bots are on the case.

He alone from the other Dinobots wants to take an active role in the Autobot ranks. And throughout, the Autobots let Grimlock know directly how they think the Dinobots lowly, Perceptor saying this with no shame to his face. And Grimlock affirms this by saying he bashes brains instead of having one. Because how else would he think, being told this time after time?

Grimlock in his pride, messes up their navigating device, exclaiming his frustration and accuses the bots of thinking him stupid and not wanting him.

Eventually, Grimlock gets hit with a spark of intelligence. And he sees the world beyond the way of his fellow Dinobots, able to problem solve and come up with plans, filled with the worries of the average Autobot and more. And his fellow Dinobots are dumbstruck with how different Grimlock is.

And he goes on to help the Autobots. Even at a point having Perceptor remark about being confused as to why he didnt think of what Grimlock had, the dino retorting Perceptor" having limited thinking "Because your mental abilities are so limited". Which of course is in regard to the situation at hand, but to me? Can be interpreted in how he regarded Grimlock beforehand.

The other Dinobots look for Grimlock. He goes and tries to get his Dinobot companions to help, to no avail. They dont like this new Grimlock, who looks down on them with big words and claws on hips.

And once more, he left, but not by the other Autobots but his fellow Dinobots.

Eventually in the heat of battle, Grimlock finds that his words and explanations have no time, no one can understand his plan in the situation he is in, and has no choice but to leave the Autobots and go Alone. And in this scene, he takes spare parts and creates a new bot, Nosecone. Who first remarks "Are you my father?"

Locking in, Grimlock has him transform, blah blah episode plot stuff. And Grimlock creates the other Technobots, designating Scattershot as leader, for "I wont be of use to you much longer", as if in knowledge of what he must do. And Scattershot is scared, rightfully so — he was just woken to life, unsure of the situation and not ready for whats to come. But the time has come and He Must.

And the Technobots go to battle against the Terrorcons, seeing the might of Abominus and fleeing. They return to Grimlock, and Grimlock lets them know — they are more than they think! And they transform into Computron. Who all intents an purposes is a big nerd with not enough brain power. Computron recognizes his unlimited potential but that even that is not enough. And Grimlock knows this. He always did.

Computron kneels. Grimlock dons on the helm without hesitation, placing it on the giants head. The manifestation of the "children" he has created. And Computron tries to refuse but is cut off by Grimlock. And for the greater good of all, for the Technobots' survival and success in life, he transfers all he had gained in one fell swoop. And in his waning intelligence, he says

"Me Grimlock says you smart now, me can no can help you anymore".

The Grimlock who made him is now gone, and the combiner goes and does what he needs to do.

And to me, it reminds me that of the Parent's Sacrifice. Grimlock gives up the potential of rising in rank, being seen as an equal or more than by his fellow Autobots. As some parents in life live and love and struggle against and rise against adversities. And midway, be it by plan or not, in non ideal circumstances, come to bear children. And in healthy situations, give their all, "giving up" their time money and freedom to raise them. But it is not truely "giving up" , done in loving sacrifice, to see that those before go much farther, and shine bigger and brighter.

And in the end of it all, we see Grimlock fishing with his fellow Dinobots in a lake, remarking how being smart isnt what its cracked up to be, and he likes being good ol Grimlock. And for once, the Autobots cheer.

And theres many ways one can interpret -- or rather, overthink this.

On a different path, Im reminded of the Love, Death, and Robots short, Zima Blue, which is one of the best sci-fi stories of ever in my opinion. I recommend watching the video before reading what I have to say, as I spoil the grand premise.

Anyway, its the story of artist named Zima Blue, known throughout the world for his poignant pieces and focus on the color blue. The art pieces get grander, yet his yearning for... something grows wider, and he sheds his humanity, revealing himself to a journalist that he is, in fact, a robot. One with origins of a simple pool cleaning—tile cleaning robot—whose job was to scrub pool tiles into the specific shade of blue, Zima Blue. Who was tinkered by a bright young mind, surpassing other robotic projects, over time evolving into the man he is today. Accepted in awe by all the world.

And yet, something was still missing.

"I will slowly shut down my higher brain functions, unmaking myself, my search for truth is finished at last. Im going home."

And to the world, he reveals his true nature, dons off his attire, and swims as a man one last time. The audience looks on with excitement for what was to be his final art work, only to look on with shock and horror as he begins to fall apart. And what would emerge? A little pool cleaning robot, a tile scrubber to be exact. And the crowd leaves, leaving the robot to scrub for the rest of his days. Alone.

And in the end, our main character, despite all the wisdom and experience acquired... chose to revert back to the simple pool cleaner, to spend his days scrubbing along the walls in what some may is a glorified container.

Some would be confused or balk at the decision, for why would he choose to live such a simple, dare I say primitive life, to that of a high elite of world reknown?

There is no shame in finding joy —purpose — in being what one is. Yes, there is the fact of being a tile scrubber whose objective is to scrub, of being a brute strong dinosaur who likes to fight and fish can be seen shame. Of not being as intelligent, of not being as certain way as society seems fit. And while one has the capacity to change, there is no shame of being happy of who one is and embracing it with those who understand--

--To have that dont cheer/look on from a distance

--and To be what one is and am, and that is enough.

In the end, the Technobots are their own people, functionally adults with knowledge and fighting prowess. Grimlock shows no real attachment or regard to the Technobots, as they also do the same. As I said, G1 tends not to be super character focused and is episodic, the next episodes never following up on this. And while I havent seen all of G1, I can assume that they dont really interact after this episode, Grimlock having the Dinobots, the Technobots having each other, both groups being loud and proud about themselves.

But I have to wonder, if Grimlock ever looks at the Technobots from a distance, just for a little moment. Or if Wheeljack and Ratchet would be proud, if they could've been there, to see how far their creations have gone, with nerd dork grandchildren to boot.

[fuzzywyrmz]

Your Osomatsu calls to my brain like the green goblin mask. May I give him a small smooch on the cheek

ABSOLUTELY ! he also calls to me like the green goblin mask 🤝 i think we should bash him with hammers about it or something (affectionately) - tysm for the ask!! everybody giving the freaks smoochies lately. delightful

[nectardaddy]

monsters - yuuta okkotsu

cw: language, blood, death, human remains, killer + non curse au, dark themes/humor, graphic descriptions(!!)

notes: heavily inspired by the book butcher and blackbird by brynne weaver, I genuinely loved writing this and might do another, butcher and blackbird has a chokehold on me

Yuuta Okkotsu was a sick man, a morbid man, one who's dark eyes didn't flicker or hesitate at the sight of the macabre. A man who was, quite genuinely, damned. A damned man with even sicker, more twisted, thoughts than your own that rattled his brain. But no one was the wiser of a man with a sweet smile, a sickly sweetness that oozed and melted hearts. He was so sinister, but so- peculiarly normal. A normality he practiced and honed; sure, the oddities slipped through every now and then, but he was quick to brush it off with a gentle laugh. A laugh that was charming, a tender sound, until it wasn't.

It was never a question on if you could love the monster of a man, it was when you would.

"You killed that man-" you began, voice soft against the chirps of crickets amongst you. "For me?" The air was thick and hot, humidity sticking to your skin as your limbs were slicked with sweat. An iron twinge in the air made you grimace, and you eyes met with the man, who now, had blood coated clothes.

"You're surprised?" He asked, eyes forward as he hunched over the body of a man - if you could call it as much anymore. He was a formidable, wicked, man, one who found himself splayed on the ground. Eyes sunken and blood pooling around his head, never to see such beautiful light of the earth again.

"I said I had it," you countered, a snap to your tone that made dark eyes flicker towards you. Not dodging his question as eloquently as you had hoped, you suddenly felt all too small under his eye.

"You didn't." A tone to match your own, as he rose with a small sigh. Looking over himself, seemingly annoyed he had to get himself so gruesome and bloodied. "Obviously."

"You didn't let-" But his eyes locking with your own made your breath hitch, swallowing hard as you desperately searched to fill your lungs. You hated that the man before you had such a loathsome effect on you; face flushing and breath stolen as if he were a middle school crush. "I could've done it myself," you doubled down.

A hammer in his hand, drenched in gore, was dropped amongst the grass as he took a step towards you. But the moments flashed before your mind quickly: you had the hammer first, swinging with a force to be reckoned with, then suddenly you didn't. You didn't realize, before it was too late, the doomed man had opposed you. "You would've been bludgeoned to death," he quipped. "Dear," he tacked on as his pale lips pulled to a sickly smile.

This wasn't his first slaying, nor would it be his last. Wielding a hammer as if it were a sword, becoming a knight in shining armor as he spilled blood for you. He was a mad man, a delirious one who considered bashing a sport - he didn't consider it entertaining, he found it thrilling. Passionate and wistful - it made you weak at the knees. But you were just as demented as he, if not more in the erratic department. It was miles from normal, but was normality anyway?

"Ugh-," you began, rolling your eyes as you watched the man before you slip back into his façade. "Don't 'dear' me, Yuuta," you retorted. "The only man I'm scared of out here, is you. Not that fucker," motioning towards the corpse as your eyes met his again. "You got in my way, I would've been fine."

"That's a compliment coming from you," he mused, tilting his head in what seemed like amusement. "Is that why you haven't killed me yet?" He asked rhetorically, dodging the conversation effortlessly as you failed to do so earlier. "No," he answered himself. "You're not scared of snapping my neck like a twig, you're scared of something else."

His tone made you want to vomit, so eerily sweet and candy coated, until it went sour, it felt wrong - it was wrong. It was wrong to act so apathetic in front of the dead, even more so when it teetered on flirting. "Don't start," you warned, but your mind urged him to keep going.

"Start what?" He asked innocently, juxtaposing himself as his clothes were splattered with blood. Inwardly kicking yourself at the thought of damn he looks good in red. The man knew what he was doing with his words, and he knew all too well as he took another step closer to you.

"You know what," your tone never faltering even though it desperately wanted to crack. "Maybe I should kill you," you suggested. But you couldn't do that, you could never do that; how could you possibly want to? He was so intriguing, so pretty, so daringly risqué it bordered obscurity - and fuck, he looked so good in red. There was no reason a man of his nature should look charming at all, no more so covered in blood. Delicate spatters coating his jacket and creeping towards his face, speckles of the liquid dancing on his cheeks like freckles.

"Probably right," he shrugged, a bit too mellow. Yuuta was odd, a strange man with strange tastes, as he wholeheartedly agreed with you that maybe you should kill him. "But then, how would you to fall in love with me?" Good lord, did that really come out of his mouth? "Dear."

If you hadn't already fallen so deep, maybe you wouldn't have come out with him tonight. But he didn't need to know that, he wasn't on a need to know basis with the the inner workings of your mind. However fractured, grotesque, and possibly similar it was to his own, he didn't need to know. He probably didn't want to know. "This again?" You asked, "god- you've completely lost it, Yuuta." You countered, contradicting your own thoughts. It was strange how you had the confidence and nerve to kill, but not to admit one's own feelings. It was easier to take a life than give your own.

"Kill me then." He proposed, crossing strong, filthy arms over his chest, a syrupy smile hanging from his lips. He was all too chipper about the interaction, dark eyes telling you he knew entirely more than he let on. A small, dainty, hum left his lips from your lack of action. Too confused, outwardly a bit disturbed by his choice words, to act, you only stared. "There it is," he mused, a whimsy in his low voice that made you shudder. "You can't, can you?"

A bit too giddy, and a screw loose in his mind, he took another step towards you. "I knew you had a heart in there somewhere," now only a few feet away from you, you couldn't stop your mind from racing. Somehow, in your own twisted mind, you found the man utterly breathtaking. Handsome, adorned in another's blood, with dark, tired eyes piercing you like a knife, and an, oh so, saccharine smile. "I just killed a man for you," he quipped, watching as his thought process shifted directions with ease. "With a hammer," he added, "all because I thought he'd hurt you."

"How romantic," you breathed, voice laced with a twinge of sarcasm. "A crime of passion."

"Isn't it?" He reveled, taking another step. It was a closeness you expected from the man, as he so often toed the line of boundaries. Because what boundaries could exist within one capable of taking another life? Little to none. Another stride, one more and he would be completely on top of you. "It felt-" you watched him pause, hovering over words in his mind as his eyes refused to leave yours. "Nice."

You couldn't decide whether to feel horrified, or unceremoniously flattered. But as his blood coated hand reached out for your cheek, all thoughts ceased. The warmth of his hand, and the liquid that covered it made you tremble underneath it. Oh, you were in deep. "I would do it again, y'know?"

If you hadn't convinced yourself otherwise now, there was no hope left. You were doomed to fall for the murderous man before you - if you hadn't already.

[scaredy-katts]

a t t r i t i o n

karim flam | masterlist | prologue

genesis

cw/notes: mdni/nsfw, this one is just suggestive, talk of sex, language, religion, they're literally in a confessional so, sacrilegious acts/talk, butchered script of a confessional oops, concept of sin/what's "good and evil" through the lens of religion, this fic is pushing my limits as a writer and I'm kind of here for it, written in karim's pov

-> opening hymn. . .angel of small death

"Látom."

Said in unison, but he swallowed hard upon hearing the voice on the opposite side of the curtain.

“Bless me, for I have sinned. . ."

That voice, fuck, he knew that voice.

Sinful and razor sharp, making his breath hitch in his throat from a mere sentence. A voice that brought wicked thoughts and depraved actions into their confessions; everything rotten and debauched within every thread of reconciliation. A familiarity within the cadence and tone, he felt his heart sink right down to his stomach. A feeling that festered, long since over due to bubbling over, that he pushed down even harder; shoving down any prior thought he had with a force that could kill - to maim. 

“It's been a month since my last confession. These are my sins. . .”

Everything about this was wrong.

He had an ever growing feeling that the woman on the other side of the curtain knew that. Divulging lustful coated sins within a saccharine breath, erotic details that had no such business within a holy place. Acutely aware of the smirk that hung on her lips with every sin confessed - he heard it. He could feel it. Hitting him right in the stomach and bringing him crashing down with every syllable that left her upturned lips. Every righteous thought hammered into the very fiber of his soul screamed at him that this was wrong; this was evil.

". . .I seem to have an issue with lust of the flesh. . ."

He should stop this.

He grabbed at the thick black fabric of his pants, just above the knee, in hopes to center himself and pull himself back. To not let his thoughts wander again - to not sin again. But he listened all too attentively, hanging on every single word, every so called confession, that left her lips.

He didn't want to stop this.

". . .you're the same priest as last time, aren't you?"

Interrupting her own confession, interrupting every thought he had of remaining calm and collected. Interrupting the bashing of memorized scriptures in his mind, as he repeated them over and over and over as she spoke.

"Yes." A nearly breathless reply. Furthering him to clasp the black fabric tighter, white knuckling the seams with sweat slicked hands, and clench his jaw.

He heard a hum.

"Good."

He wanted to wretch, the amusement in a single word made him nauseous. He didn't know a word to have such a dreadful effect; an effect that made him grit his teeth from the desire filled tone that swallowed the word whole. Screwing his eyes shut as to not further himself astray. Sin filled thoughts already creeping into his mind that he took with an iron grip and forced to the deepest parts of his mind; he prayed they would never surface again.

He was a righteous man, a holy man, one of which shouldn't dare entertain even the mere idea of such wicked actions. But the moral sin of desire was a treacherous one to fall to; falling to his knees in attrition - such false repentance - as the stain of lust was his only folly.

"Now make a good act of contrition." Uttered through gritted teeth and closed eyes, following a script within the caverns of his mind. He heard another hum and felt his resolve start to crumble at his feet.

"I firmly intend, with Sol's help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin."

No you won't, is what he wished to say. He instead took a deep breath and held it, pausing a moment as he wracked his brain of another prayer. The only salvation in the moment being she would leave soon, to leave him a mess of a man - but righteous nonetheless.

"Aren't you going to pray for me? Tell me my sins are forgiven?"

Dammit.

"I absolve you from your sins," spoken in a single breath. Forced through his teeth, knowing forgiveness meant nothing to the woman beyond the curtain - she didn't care. "Látom." Cleansing heinous actions, disgraceful words, and his own mind within a single word.

"Látom."

"Go in peace."

"I have every intention to. Thanks be to Sol."

He felt his breath return to him once he heard her leave; nearly out of breath as he filled his lungs with air. Putting his head in his hands and letting put a groan.

"God forgive me for thinking such things."