16. Every time someone says a word beginning with K, you have to kiss them
“That is– unfortunate.”
- Stroke the darer’s ass for a whole minute
“Looks like this came back to bite you in the ass.”
Being very proud of himself for making that pun — really, really proud — he turned around the wolf girl and gave her a good, long look before letting his hand trail down.
“Sorry about the mess.”
Anyone who wants to meet.. my muse?
Put “Thwack!” in my inbox and my muse will respond to yours slapping their ass.
“One more time..”
"One. more. time. and I will execute you on the spot, hm?“
“Aliens.. Is that so?”
He chuckled politely, pushing himself around a bit with his legs, his hands enclosed around the chains of the swing. And even then, while he seemed so at peace, all gears in his head were twisting, finding way to kill and murder. Right now, his favourite tactic would be choking this woman with the chains of the swing. Or, perhaps, crushing her skull as he would throw her head against the metal cilinders that supported the swing. So many possibilities– But no, he had to listen for a moment. Small talk, is what they all call it.
"And how did someone like you get into UNIT? How did you get in there..?“
Depends, actually.
You see, just killing right away– It’s so boring. Only beings who irritate me to the bone get such a quick way out. The actual fun begins with kidnapping. Diving into their life and mind.
To hurt physically, you must find the exact buttons to press– and to hurt emotionally is pressing those buttons. Find things they love; tokens of hope and show them.. show them there is no way out. Destroy everything. And when they finally crawl to you on their knees, as they should, and beg for death…
You will not give them death. You will let them live.
That’s the way to play with someone’s mind. Or, you know, I could ramble on about this manner to break someone, while actually giving a pesky anonymous creature something to think about before dying.
- a knife was pulled as he flashed a grin -
Goodnight.
Hm..
Fruits. I like fruits. They represent mortality very nicely. Quick, rotting, fatal mortality.
“I– I tried, alright?”
“I at least tried to be a good man.”
"Never do that to me again.“
“Oh, how I have plans for you.”
"If you keep blurting out random crap like that–“
”I will shove a supernova down your throat.“
[ There. All better. ]
[♣] Petals ]||[ DRABBLE [♣]
She l o v e s me
He yanked her hair backwards, a scream erupting from her throat. The cold end of his gun colliding with her spine, pressed firmly against it so he could feel her backbone. As his respiration converged with hers, he smiled and kissed her neck.
She loves me not.
'Why are you doing this’ she repeatedly asked as his knife formed calm circles on her flat stomach, like dropping a pebble in resting water and watching the perfect mirror corrupt. He couldn’t help but smile– Laugh, even. The drips of blood and cold warmth that the marks erupted made him happy, even if it were only for this moment. Right here, right now.
She l o v e s me
The knife slowly found its way to her neck, sliding just the tip through her skin as she mewled and showed resistance. Her moving only made the drawing -his work of art- more uneven. This line he shaped, carved from her stomach onto her shoulder, onto her neck.. It had reached her face and her cheeck. He needed something spectacular to finish the painting of scarlet lines, waving over her body that was perfect in every way. He needed to bring out the imperfections, even if they weren’t there; he would need to create them. And so he did. His knife, red from her blood, stood right-angled on her cheeks, red from screaming, and pierced through the skin, stabbing right into her mouth and brushing over her tongue.
She loves me not.
Only a few hours ago, she thought he actually was in love with her. She walked with him to his place because she just couldn’t stand seeing those puppy eyes, even if they seemed a bit lifeless– a bit off, get hurt. Only a few hours ago, she sipped from a steaming cup of tea. That same tea would now gently pour out from the hole he made in her cheek by piercing and turning around his favourite knife. Only a few hours ago, she didn’t find out the horrible man that hid behind those puppy eyes.
She loves me.. not.
And she never will–
For she didn’t survive
Her imperfections.
Okay, so, I need volunteers. So send me an ask or like this or something if you want your muse tortured and severely damaged. Seriously, I’ve got massive ideas, and they might or might not involve knives, cannibalism and blood.
‘Darkness’ - Open
Thursday night. Rain poured, ticking softly onto the Doctor’s tweed jacket as he pulled up his collar to protect his neck against the cold. He had no clue why he was walking through this empty street, heels clicking an echo through it, nor did he know where he was going. He had a thirst, and this thirst had to end soon.
Stepping down the road, he found a silhouette glancing up at him before shooting into an alley. The Doctor closed his eyes and shook his head. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Why come out here in the middle of the night, wandering in a dark alley way, the sky roaring down to you? That’s like asking to taste the sweet metal of my knife gliding down your throat, isn’t it?
The Doctor grinned and slipped into the alley, where he found the person standing under a little roof, where they were hidden from the ever so screaming rain.
❝ – Hello! ❞
He called out, friendly tone in his voice echoing through the alley. Murder was no fun without identity. He needed to get to know the victim first. Needed to taste their blood first. The Doctor smiled, though he was almost certain the smile would not reach the stranger, drowned in – darkness –.