#thesecondtodesengel

//AAAHHHHH but House of Cards tho …

The year was 1940, and World War Two had been gaining steam for a year. Germany was expanding its hold across Europe, and Hitler’s politics had been changing the Fatherland for the better...or so he claimed. Propaganda fed the public’s perception and painted a much different picture for the citizens of Germany than the rest of the world.

It had been raining for a week, now, and the darkened night sky was still heavy with fat storm clouds. The wind was warm and had the electric scent of lightning on it, sending shivers down one’s spine.

Yes. He, his wife, and I have a rather…interesting arrangement going on.

"Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it."

Send "Omega" for my muse reacting to your muse going into heat and begging to be fucked over and over.

My muse has been kidnapped for experimental research. After months of searching, yours has finally found mine. How does your muse react to the condition mine is in?

☤ ANGST STARTERS ☤ SEND "What did you do?" AND I'LL GENERATE A NUMBER ☤ OR SEND A NUMBER (WITHOUT PEEKING!)

Your muse walks in on mine criticizing their body.

There had been something bothering Abel when Josef had come over, though the werewolf had no idea what. Yes, it was strange that Abel was dressed in baggy sweats and his hair was in a messy bun and he wasn't wearing makeup, but Josef figured it may have just been an off day for him.

It wasn't until later, when he accidentally walked in on Abel changing for bed, that he understood.

He found Abel in front of the full-length mirror that made up the back of his closet door, naked except for a pair of black pajama pants decorated with skulls. He had a t-shirt in hand, but was sullenly staring at his reflection.

He looked like he was about to cry.

Josef gently rapped his knuckles against the door, and Abel turned to look at him almost guiltily.