(S) L A U G H T E R

  "Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." Indie fandomless hitman/serial killer oc   

[riidens-blog]

Hello chaps I am back but not really

Absence may be extended a couple days as I’m having top surgery tomorrow woo

[riidens-blog]

Hey everyone sorry I’m absent I have no internet at home atm and my life got fucke really fast ily all regular shit should continue soon

[riidens-blog]

dismemberings:

          Gene was roused surprisingly early from a heavy, dreamless           sleep with a shitty acrid taste in his mouth. The phone beside            the bed was unplugged. Vending machine candy wrappers            littered the floor. Schrader peeled his face from the puddle            of stale saliva on the pillow, blindly pawed his bent glasses            from the nightstand, and got up, reluctantly, staggering off to            unleash a fairly pitiful stream of concerning orange piss all            over the toilet seat.

           When he peeked through the motel room’s blinds again he            was met with the usual souvenir keychain view, lilac sky,            broken neon sign still dimly flickering ‘COLOR TV’ despite            the daylight, sad flaccid palm trees framing an equally sad            parking lot littered with cars. One such car was beginning            to perturb him. Swanky black thing a little too intentionally            parked away from others and in direct view of his room.            Now maybe it was just paranoia talking, but the Mr Justice            Stalker Fag he encountered last night probably had a swanky            black car.

           Gene hooked the ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign on the front door            and wondered how the fuck he was going to make his escape            through the tiny window in the bathroom if it came to it.

♱

The Chevy remained. Isaac breathed a quick sigh of relief, feeling shockingly buzzed after such a nasty binge and a short night’s sleep. He lit a cigarette, feeling cheerful, optimistic, almost. Picturing putting the boot to Gene Schrader’s bloated face as it wept and begged for mercy, Isaac grinned as he wound down the window to let some air in and the smoke out.

Big mistake. He feels the gentle breeze instantly spin his head for a loop. Deep breaths now, come on. In and out, his ribcage strains against the skin in an attempt to calm his frazzled nervous system. It’s no good- the lurching in his stomach becomes too much and he bursts out of the driver’s side of the sleek Jag, away from its precious upholstery. Without sunglasses the light was unbearable despite the early hour, searing the spot behind his eyes through his glasses.

And then he was down on his hands and knees with his stomach doing its best to represent the shape of a coiled spring. A desperate, wet retch escaped his throat and a puddle of bile that tasted horribly of chemicals slithered over his tongue. It had been a while since he’d made a mistake this stupid, neglected his basic bodily fucking needs chasing a sicko across the county. 

‘Oh Jesus Christ take my sinful hide,’ he groaned into the sleeve of his jacket, wiping his mouth moderately clean and trying to avoid the sensation of his stomach trying to empty itself of nothing but its empty self. He staggered to his feet, squinting up at the window where he had seen that anxious shadow the night before. Or was it the right one? Fuck.

♱

[riidens-blog]

Things I will never not love; having Isaac kinda embarrassing the shit out of himself ngl

[riidens-blog]

w0lf1sh:

Anton had taken to quietly nursing his drink, hardly bringing it up to his lips any more, but moving the glass in short circles, listening to the ice clink, making it look like he was doing something besides staring. Because he was staring – now looking for lumps in clothing, baggy pockets, anywhere a weapon might be hidden. But, his search was cut short when the other spoke again. Anton jumped a hair, looked up, and hoped all his staring could be passed off as innocent drunken goggling. He tried smiling. “Start us up, pal.”

He was more cautious after that, mindful to look away and act uninterested. He  watched, under his best impression of bored, the balls hit and click off each other, and the stranger offer him the cue, before returning his own glass to the table. Then, he took the cue, lined it up with the waiting white ball, and hit. It beat off several balls of several colors, but amount, likewise, in nothing. “Shit– lemme tell you, man, it’s been a while since I last play,” he said, standing up straight again and turning to pass the cue. There, he waited until the opposite man had his hand against it, before reaching out and grasping his wrist – abrupt, sure, but still too gentle for allegations. “I don’t think I caught your name, did I? And it only feels right I know my new pool buddies name, y‘know?”

♱

Isaac hadn’t missed those glances, mistaking them for interest and growing satisfied in his game as he watched Numbers line up his shot. He was into the thick dark locks and strong stature, it was a shame; under any other circumstances he might have been stuttering his way through his third round of liquid courage, trying to seem interesting without giving too much away and having to tearfully drown the other man in a toilet. When the white clacked against the scattered balls of red and yellow he chuckled quietly at the other’s excuse. 

‘Aw, maybe you haven’t got quite enough booze down you. What’s the matter, designated driver?’ 

He took the cue in his left hand, stiffening as Numbers came close- don’t flip him over the table, don’t- and managing to force a smile despite the growing static between his temples at the uninvited contact. ‘Billy,’ he lied with ease, and Billy was a dumb local twink with more testosterone than sense, so Isaac leaned in a little closer, shifting his weight to the other hip. ‘You?’ 

No fear of unwarranted aggression here, though he’d had the good sense to check before he decided to play the homo fatale act. The bar, despite having all the signs of once being a backwoods dive, had somehow attracted a crowd of hipsters in their early twenties far too wrapped up in their own lives and conversations over craft beer served in smeared glasses. He’d even felt safe enough to hang up his jacket as he came in, but right now he wished he was feeling the weight of the Beretta stitched into the leather at his side. 

♱

[evan-knoblauch-deactivated20180]

[fireandsteelofangels]

his sharp edges somehow only make him softer his broken heart only beats louder in the silence and it would be easier, to not love him if you didn’t know how bright his smile is if you didn’t know that his touch can be gentle it would be easier, to not want to save him if you didn’t know how reassuring his words are if you didn’t know that he’d sacrifice himself so you could live and wouldn’t it make it easier for him, not to love you if you weren’t the missing pieces that his soul longs for

sometimes only the hurt can heal each other by Abby S (via vinget)

[horrificmemes]

Victorian Horror symbol starters

Send me a symbol for a starter based on Victorian Horror and Victorian Gothic tropes and history! Enjoy a few little references to famous tales as well ~ (If you’d like a drabble based on these, send “symbol + drabble”) - suggested by @junkenghoul 

(Triggers present: all manner of death mention, murder, suicide, mental and physical illness)

✍Finding a cryptic, hand-written note in the study

🎩The muse meets a charming stranger for the first time, but something about them is suspicious

🕸 Exploring an old cellar/basement full of secrets

🌕Witnessing a moonlit ritual outside of a manor, cut off from civilization

👂 A descent into madness, prompted by rumors and paranoia

😱A descent into madness, as the character begins to no longer recognize those around them and/or see evil in everyone they know

🦇An eerie meeting between vampire and victim

😓A misunderstood character is ostracized, perhaps even threatened, for their peculiar habits, interests, or studies

💀A character suffering nightmares of their own death, or that of someone close to them

😈A plot about the effects of an ancestral curse never put to rest

😨A character catches sight of a horrible monster, but struggles to convince their loved ones that it’s not just their imagination

👀Everywhere the character goes, they feel as if they’re being watched (by the paintings, behind the mirrors, through every window)

⏳ A character becoming obsessed with their own mortality, age, or waning beauty

🔥 A crowd armed with torches gathering to hunt a monster/witch in town

👥The character has two distinct parts to their personality, one light and one dark, fighting for dominance

🔒A character framed and imprisoned/institutionalized for something they are not guilty of

🔮Receiving a dreadful warning through fortune telling

☠ A ghostly spirit leads the muse to uncovering the gruesome details of their death

😷The muse suffering terrible visions and hallucinations during a deathly fever (bonus if they are confined to their bed or locked in quarantine)

🕛Mysterious events happen every night at exactly midnight

😵The character is forced into a fearful asylum, searching for a means of freedom.

⚰️The suicide of a loved one throws a character into misery and temptation to be with them

🔫After a gruesome plot is uncovered, the character realizes their new friend/lover/spouse is actually a brutal murderer, possibly with the protagonist in their sights

🖤A character in mourning is haunted by the guilt (and possibly ghost) of their lost love

👻The character(s) conduct a seance to speak with a spirit haunting their home

🏘 A character inherits an ancestral home, but the property is not what it seems (bonus: they also inherit an odd, eccentric housekeeper)

🥀A ghostly character has to come to terms with their own death (which they may or may not be aware of at first)

[riidens-blog]

INDEPENDENT ♱ HIGHLY SELECTIVE ♱ STRICTLY 18+

CRIME / SERIAL KILLER OC ♱ LAUGHED AT BY JAY

[riidens-blog]

superiiorisms:

@riidens liked for a lyric starter

          ❝ everybody wants to rule the world… some just don’t realize it.              using everyone && all around them to better their own life &&              push their own standards on them.  ❞

♱

‘I think you might be projecting a little there, friend.’ The whiskey is brought to his lips, but he does not keep his eye off the other. Two dangerous animals, locked in a human exchange.

‘I’ve got no issue with following direction. World’s not mine to own.’ 

♱  

[thingsforrp]

Send me a verse you’d like to see me create

[frxckinggxre-blog]

Send 🔪 to find my muse drenched in blood after they killed someone, or send 🔪🔪 for reverse.

[riidens-blog]

killedrobin:

handwriting  can  tell  you  a  lot  about  a  person  .  go  here  and  reblog  with  your  character’s  handwriting  style ! 

[cantcontrolthegay-deactivated20]

[malvivent-a-deactivated20181109]

                                     L’ENNEMI PUBLIC № 1

     INDEPENDENT | SELECTIVE | PRIVATE | FRENCH MOBSTER OC | DIRECTED BY CHUCK SPADINA

[gogopeach-deactivated20180705]

[riidens-blog]

Plotting call! Like this and I’ll dive into your dm’s at some point to see what we can rustle up. Starter call can be found here if you want me to spin the wheel on something simple.