thefangedman-blog

[thefangedman-blog]

{ooc update - mobile}

Hey guys, I'm probably not going to be on until much much later tonight/early tomorrow. When coming back from my surgery consult yesterday I witnessed a car accident (and was seconds away from being the car hit). I stayed on scene and helped the victims and gave a police report and all that shit but both cars involved got totaled and car accidents are a huge fucking fear of mine so my brain is not good rn. Everyone involved is okay but fuuuuck the cars made some nasty crunching noises I won't soon forget.

As always if anyone wants to talk ooc dm me here or add me on discord:

[thefangedman-blog]

alright my good folks, i have a surgery consultation in *checks watch* 7 hours. i need to attempt some sleep, so peace. i have three replies and two starters drafted currently, i’ll post them when i got on later tonight.

[thefangedman-blog]

starter for @imnctagirl

Superheroes. James wasn’t a fan. Each day he opened his newspaper and found a new noise and facial expression to show his disgust at all these stories of costumed time bombs trying to save the city. Fools, he thought, nothing can save New York City. We’ve been doomed from the start.

Lately, there’d been news of this figure in a red and blue suit. Spiderman, they called him. No one knew who he was, what he really looked like under the suit, or what his motives really were. Yet each day, newspapers dedicated sections to this masked hero who stopped bank robberies and saved bodega cats in the same breath. 

James took note that the so-called Spiderman seemed to favor swinging around at night. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he ran into the little vigilante, but the thought barely crossed his mind that night as he made his way into the dark. He was a little more concerned with getting another pack of smokes, and soon as he had that his next priority was getting his nicotine fix. It wasn’t until he heard an odd noise  a street over that he remembered the headlines of the past few weeks.

“I’m not in the mood to get mugged.” He called out into street, half-joking. “Who’s there?”

[thefangedman-blog]

deadxpretty‌:

Taran chuckles and steps forward again, the likelihood of him being a ‘face-ripper’ was very high, he got up to some wild shenanigans once he’d had a few drinks, perhaps he’ll drag this handsome fellow to a bar and let him find out for himself.

He steps ever closer as the man shows off his fangs, “Ooh, sexy.” he grins, “I’ve no fancy chompers to show off myself but my interest in humans may be similar to yours, I need them for sustenance, their life force fuels my own.” his eyes flash with a manic gleam, “Lets go on a hunt, handsome, I want to see those pearly whites in action.”

James was a bit taken aback, but stood his ground. He did his best not to harm humans, despite the fact that he’d kill certain ones if they meet his requirements. Not only that, but he needed their blood to live. So, as much as he could delude himself into thinking he did no harm to humans, he still managed to do significant harm. There was something about this man that made him feel a bit like embracing the darker side of himself.

Sexy. Haven’t heard that one in a while.

“Well, sexy, am I? Interesting.” He laughed and looked off into the distance for a moment, debating the options he had laid out before him. He could run off into this night with a complete stranger, possibly feast on some humans, and wake up at home with a headache of guilt. Or, he could go back home and drink out of a stale bag of blood while listening to Frank Sinatra and pass out on his couch after a bottle and a half of wine. Perhaps it would do him some good to embrace his nature.

“Alright then, a hunt it is. But I have a rule. I like to feed on the worst. The worst of the worst. So let’s avoid draining the life force of those who have done little to deserve having it ripped from them.”

[thefangedman-blog]

*grunkle stan voice* oh this? this is beautiful

[thefangedman-blog]

andinked·:

His last set appointment for the day was just about done. The tattoo was wiped down and cleaned, and he allowed it to set for a little while as he grabbed his phone and asked for his customer to lay. It was a chest piece on a young girl- a regular at the shop- of a portrait of a wolf, with flowers extending over her collar. hours of work went into this design over the span of a couple of months, but now that it was finally finished, Andrew was ready to show it off. 

He instructed her to lay back, and Naomi came over to catch a glimpse, complimenting it as well. Close attention was paid to the little details and it did not go unnoticed as a couple pictures were taken for the shop’s social media, and he helped her back up off the bench, careful not to do anything to disturb the new tattoo on her skin.

Her shirt was pulled over and Andrew helped to escort her out the front as Wyatt passed, and took his client back to start in on his half sleeve and Naomi had been caught up in trying to finalize some design that one of her appointments would be coming in for as well. It was Andrew’s turn to take over the front, and do walk ins as they came. It was a relatively slow day, and so that was not much of a chore to him.

The door opened, and he heard the call of the other’s voice just as he was finishing up with his customer. He stopped, briefly taking not of the other and gave a nod. “Yeah we do, give me one sec.“ he called, holding his hand up to gesture for one more moment. 

He filled her in on the usual procedure about aftercare, advising her on clothing options that would help her heal, told her to text or call if she needed anything or if she had any questions- ‘you know the drill, I ain’t worried about you.’ And they bid their goodbyes.

Andrew then stepped out from behind the counter to lean himself back against it. his hands came back to rest over the ledge as he focused his attention on the one in search of a walk in. “What are you lookin’ at gettin?”

James took one good look at the shop and knew he was in hot water. He immediately began to regret his visit, but he was haunted by the Justice card he pulled the other morning during his reading. Justice was a strict force. He needed to do something to pay for his little lies or the Universe would make him pay. Not the mention, it would finally put an end to all these little gambling situations his friends loved to put him in.

“Oh, erm, hello!” He said, attempting a smile. He supposed it looked a bit more like a grimace. Though, on the other hand, he was sure this gentleman was used to seeing people nervous about tattoos. Suddenly he found himself itching for another cigarette, and he nervously glanced at the door before looking back at the tattoo artist.

“Sorry, I’m a bit nervous. First tattoo and all.”

He stepped forward and pulled out the design from his coat pocket. A thick, black outline of a pair of fake vampire fangs from Halloween. It was a tongue--well--fang in cheek joke.

“Just this, on the outside of my left ankle please. I know it’s not much but I’m well aware of how these things are priced so I won’t try to haggle with you or anything.” He laughed nervously and glanced back at the door. He supposed all of this would be worth it. From an aesthetic point of view, tattoos were lovely. He certainly appreciated them. He was just an absolute coward about getting one.

[thefangedman-blog]

Into your sanctum                 you let them in            now all your loved ones                 and all your kin will suffer punishments beneath the wrath of God...

[thefangedman-blog]

James shrugged and took one last drag from the cigarette, before brushing off the burning end with his fingers. The little bit of pain meant nothing to him, if it meant saving a cigarette. He was a nicotine addict through and through, and he refused to be wasteful.

“Sorry mate. I think my mother had that. Cancer, I mean. Some type of it.”

Of course, he’d never know for sure, just that she showed the symptoms of cancer these 21st century patients had. She was gone long before a time when modern medicine could diagnose specific issues. But of course, this guy didn’t know that.

Anyway, let’s get right to the point.

“What’s with the suit?” He asked, crossing his arms. “I’m no vigilante, but I like to keep on top of what’s happening in this city. As far as I know, there’s been no fancy dress parties in this area. I have no problem with weird outfits, honestly, as long as you’re not one of those superheroes.”

I loved movies, especially the “old” ones. TV didn’t tell me much either, but since I had internet connection, it never stopped me from making observation. I was actually once accused that I only watch it so I can throw people off with references they don’t get. Rude! It’s not the only reason why I watch Netflix.

As for the music, in my opining Wham! was the peak and everything else sucked ever since. “Good idea,” I’ve muttered with mouth filled with food once again. I am not letting my dinner getting cold because of pale weirdo with sharp cheekbones decided to comment on my suit.

I mean, it is the suit right?

When he offered me cigarette, I shook my head. “Don’t know about the other Santas, but I already have cancer, so no, thank you.”

[thefangedman-blog]

i did NOT mean to disappear for as long as i did whoops. got kidnapped by the parental unit to go do errands and get healthy food more frozen taquitos for my apartment

[thefangedman-blog]

adult content psa for rpers

anyway so i just read through the new posts tumblr & tumblr support put out about this and here’s the low-down for my fellow members of the rpc:

written content containing “erotica” is still allowed – aka you can still write all your smut

nudity found in art like sculptures & illustrations is also fine – this does not include gifs of scenes from tv shows, movies, etc. that have explicit material such as genitalia and sexually explicit acts

if you’ve reblogged sexually explicit (visual) content and were not the original poster of it, you have nothing to worry about – tumblr is contacting the poster & it will likely be removed from tumblr and therefore your blog

aka save it to your computer if you really really want it i guess

this process isn’t going to be perfect – some things you think are fine will be flagged & vice versa. give it time.

also if there’s anything you’re the original poster of that is flagged & you disagree, you can appeal it to tumblr

if your blog was flagged as explicit, that is now obsolete by these new guidelines – your blog will still be overlaid with a content filter when viewed directly

if you think you’ve been incorrectly marked as explicit, go here: https://www.tumblr.com/support

THEY AREN’T KICKING YOU OFF – removal of content, not people

no more porn gifs & shit, my dudes – you’ll have to settle for your imagination

[thefangedman-blog]

im now making cookies for my witch friend to take over to her house later. like this post if we don’t have a thread started yet and you’d like me to make us a starter when i get back!

[thefangedman-blog]

starter for @andinked

James had lost a bet. Actually, he’d lost several bets over many years. Far too many people knew he was afraid of getting a tattoo, and all of them had gambled with him to see who would have to go get a tattoo, hoping to put him in the hot seat. Each time he lost, he pretended to get a tattoo. He would call ahead to the shop, run by supernatural folk of course, and together they’d perform a bit of magick. By the end of it, he’d have a fake tattoo that would last a week or so. 

Still, he felt a bit guilty for keeping up the ruse. Why should he, an almighty immortal, be afraid of getting a tattoo? He couldn’t explain the anxiety, but supposed the phobia was born of whatever was left of him that was human. And so, he finally decided it was time for him to truly get a tattoo. 

He’d decided on a design for his left ankle, recommended jokingly by a few of his witch friends at Catlande, and he was trying to tell himself that everything would be okay even as he walked up to the front door of the tattoo shop. He finished the last of the many cigarettes he’d anxiously smoked on his walk there and dispensed of it in the ashtray outside the door. It was a human parlor. No trickery this time.

“Do you accept walk-ins?” He said, as he stepped inside. He hoped that they didn’t, and he’d be spared. He supposed every being had to be afraid of something, but why did his thing have to be tattoo needles?

[thefangedman-blog]

i’m making stir fry for breakfast because i’m a disaster human, how are all of u

[thefangedman-blog]

starter for @tomcrrows

There had been talk of strange things in the city. Well, there was always talk of strange things going on in this city. Lately, there’d been odd flashes in the night sky. The conspiracy theorists of the area who stood in Times Square with their signs, shouting frequently offensive spiels, claimed it was aliens.

Of course, James wasn’t entirely closed off to the idea of aliens. After all he was an immortal vampire who occasionally made it his business to be a soldier of fortune and take out undesirable individuals. Not to mention, he was a former preacher. Truly, stranger things than aliens walked the streets of New York.

The energy of every human’s paranoia buzzed through the city that night, as he walked on Madison Avenue. He intended to make a nighttime trip to Central Park, a frequent hangout for supernatural folk. He’d heard from a warlock friend who heard from a werewolf friend who’d heard from a demon friend that there was a fairy in the park telling stories about vampires, and he had to sate his curiosity. 

As he neared the park, he heard strange noises. Well, stranger than usual. This place was full of odd sounds. He approached the alley the noises had seemed to come from, glancing down it to see a-- a blue box? A police box, of all things. He hadn’t seen one of those in many years, and certainly not on this continent. He shrugged, assuming it was some art installation by the locals, and began to walk off. Before he could far, he thought he heard movement and paused, turning back. 

“Hello?” He called out as he walked further into the alley, calm, but cautious. “Is someone there?”

[thefangedman-blog]

cursivebloodlines·:

Brows knitted together in concentration, Pippa nodded her head slowly as though it would allow the information of the man’s directions sink in. Despite this, she still had trouble focusing and letting it seep through her skull, her head spinning with anxiety; no matter how many times she travelled to an unfamiliar location, the idea of getting lost terrified her. Already, her heart was racing at the thought, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.  Blinking after a couple of moments, it soon hit her that the man had finished speaking and she was almost just… gawping at him like an idiot. It was as if the past couple of moments she had been stuck on pause and someone suddenly hit the play button again, a blank moment before realisation set in.

A light shade of pink coloured her cheeks, radiating with warmth from sheer embarrassment for zoning out. A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she smiled timidly, briefly glancing to a spot on the floor. “I’m ever so sorry,” Pippa said earnestly, fiddling with one of the buttons on her coat as she glanced back up at him. “I spaced out for a moment there. Don’t know what’s wrong with me, must have been away with the fairies. Or something.” The Brit paused briefly, trying to recompose herself, clearing her throat. “Do you mind repeating that? I do apologise; I must be a right pain…I can’t remember whether you said a right or a left on to… what avenue?”

James could tell she was new to the city, the look of anxiety and confusion on her face was one he’d seen many times. It was nearly 10 at night, a little earlier than he was used to, but it was still dark out and he wasn’t letting a lost tourist wander off the in the wrong direction in what could be a very dangerous city.

He patiently waited for her to finish speaking, taking note of her nervous motions. He certainly wasn’t going to allow her to not get safely to her destination. He supposed the little things like this, helping out a tourist, was his own way of making up for the fact that he had to drink human blood and harm them to survive. As the thought crossed his mind, he unconsciously reached into his coat for his fresh pack of cigarettes. He pulled it out and started to peel off the plastic, but once he became aware of his own anxious actions, he put the pack back.

“Not a problem at all, you’re going to want to take the next right on the 8th avenue. You’ll see a giant stone building with signs telling you where to go, and even at this time of night there will be plenty of people out front.” He paused and looked off the in the direction of Penn Station, weighing his options.

“Of course, if you’d prefer I walk you there I’m happy to oblige.”

[thefangedman-blog]

oh i suppose it’s obvious i’m not taking part in the protest. i don’t blame the people who are or think any less of them but i’ve sat through many, many various tumblr protests that resulted in nothing happening. so, if i have muse, i’m going to be online writing and living my life.

[thefangedman-blog]

‘how do i interact with you’

write me a starter. send me an ask. punch me in the fucking face i don’t care just write with me