BEWARE OF THE DOG.

          [ deafdefault ]

        “B-Benriya? What’s your business here?”

         in a wavering voice, ginger spoke out to the man before her, thumbs twiddling about anxiously. she was quick to recognize the man, but it did strike her a bit odd he was off without the Normal tagging along. 

for a twilight of higher ability than himself, ginger was probably the most bashful woman nic had ever come across in this area of business-- kinda annoying if he thought about it, eyes narrowing as he ran his gaze from top to toe and back up again with an air of nonchalance; casually tapping the hilt of his weapon to his shoulder to a tune only he could hear.

                   ‘ from the doc. ‘

Agateophobia: Your muse thinks they're going crazy, and mine is trying to talk them down.

Agliophobia: My muse nurses yours after an injury.

Agrizoophobia: Our muses encounter a wild animal.

Amnesiphobia: Your muse has forgotten mine, and mine is trying to make yours remember.

Angrophobia: My muse is furious at your muse.

Anthrophobia: My muse brings yours flowers.

Arsonphobia: Our muses are trapped in a burning building.

Asthenophobia: Your muse passes out in my muse's arms.

Atychiphobia: My muse comforts yours after a (real or perceived) failure.

Brontophobia: Our muses are caught in a storm together.

Catagelophobia: Your muse catches mine doing something embarrassing.

Chionophobia: Fluffy drabble about our muses playing in the snow.

Chorophobia: Our muses dance together.

Chrometophobia: My muse helps yours out of a financial crisis, or vice-versa.

Chronophobia: AU drabble about our muses in a different time era.

Cibophobia: My muse cooks a meal for yours.

Cleptophobia: Your muse steals something from mine.

Coimetrophobia: My muse visits your muse's grave.

Coitophobia: A smutty drabble about our muses.

Cyberphobia: Our muses talk in a chat room, but don't realize their chat partners are each other.

Dikephobia: My muse is pressing criminal charges against yours.

Dipsophobia: Our muses drinking together.

Ergophobia: My muse hires yours to work for them.

Gamophobia: Our muses get married.

Gerascophobia: Our muses meet each other forty years from now.

Gymnophobia: My muses accidentally sees yours naked.

Iatrophobia: My muse accompanies yours to a doctor's appointment.

Limnophobia: Your muse saves mine from drowning.

Lockiophobia: Our muses have a baby together.

Macrophobia: Our muses are waiting for something bad, and trying to distract each other from the thought.

Mastigophoiba: My muse punishes yours for something (either smutty or angsty, specify).

Melophobia: My muse performs a song for yours.

Merinthophobia: My muse finds yours tied or chained up.

Metrophobia: My muse writes a poem for yours.

Necrophobia: My muse just found out that yours has died.

Nosemaphobia: Your muse is ill, and mine is taking care of them.

Oneirophobia: My muse has a dream about yours.

Phasmophobia: Your muse is visited by my muse's ghost.

Soceraphobia: Your muse meets my muse's parents.

       QUESTIONS DESIGNED TO MAKE YOU HATE ME.

Have you received anon hate? What about?

DOWNER. actually yes, and it wasn’t a great experience. back when I was in the snk fandom, I was getting really frustrated with the amount of ooc stuff on my dash between two people discussing trans headcanons back and forth. I made the stupid decision to vague post about it, saying that long ooc conversations should be held over skype or something so that people’s dashes weren’t cluttered with trans headcanons.

the post wasn’t meant meant as an attack to the content of their conversation but more as a way of publicly identifying the individuals involved; but people thought I meant ‘don’t talk about trans headcanons’ whereas I meant ‘the people talking about trans headcanons should do so on skype’ so I got a few hateful anons calling me ‘cis het trash’ and stuff like that.

          he was inhumane —— or ` least, the strength raging through his bones and flesh was so, powering him from inside out. force with which he reacted, wrath boiling within: all hidden underneath skin and appearance of human, she found the scenery beautiful … and disturbing, at same time. 

          ( a creature neither human nor homunculus, she wondered what under “ god’s “ sky could he be. ) 

          with a step – or better said a leap, backwards, her facial expression twisted: eyes narrowed and teeth grit against each other, claws retracting — she stands as a beast waiting to see if her prey was going to do anything but bare his teeth at her.

he leant on the hilt of his sword, the point of its blade wedged into a crack in the paving; blood also seeped into the crack and others like it, coming from him or her it didn’t matter. they’d both bled, though only the one still had the wounds to prove it. he’d watched carefully each time her flesh had torn & sewn itself shut again, catching glimpses of the glowing crimson within, that rock that was her core-- surmised that if the rock should break then so should she.

           but that might be a fight for another day.

his strength was dwindling, pain receptors down but there was a nagging sensation within that kept screaming at him to stop his antics. worick would kill him for sure, provided this beast of a woman didn’t finish him off first - tags meant nothing when dealing with real monsters. a fraction of a second later and he was moving, darting forward only to come at a dead stop inches from her face, gaze piercing, he considered speaking but his throat was done for the day. bringing up his hands, he signed: