open starter ||   ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ w. louis de pointe du lac )

    Fingers  combed  through  his  hair,  twirling  strands  as  if  fascinated  with  it.  Indeed  it  was  soft,  but  not  at  all  because  of  anything  he  did.

    ❝If  it  is  soft,  it  is  because   he  made  it  so.  I  was  made  in  Lestat’s  image.  All  that  I  am  is  because  of  him.❞ At least, on the outside. Inside was an entirely different story.

open to: mutuals / non-mutuals ( selective ) made with: beta editor

The look of utter disgust is because he’s dreadfully bored. Conversations with the equivalent of uncultured swine had a tendency to dampen his mood. It’s so bad that he’s almost willing to conversate with those beneath him; mere mortals who, for the most part, did not interest him in the slightest. Middle Earth has certainly seen better days…

open: to anyone, m obv if romantic ( ignores AMC's iwtv; currently using tumblr's beta editor )

IT HAD TAKEN SOME TIME FOR LOUIS to get used to hurting people. One could thank Claudia for that. Even so, he wasn't above having Claudia aid him in draining a body when his hunger became too much to bear. And oft times he targeted the sleazy ones who approached him in bars, waiving their egos around like they were g-d. Being Louis was insufferable at times, but admittedly, knowing everyone was watching made it easier to fetch a meal. They always came to him willingly and from there, it was up to him to decide if Claudia would be allowed to channel her other father for a meal.

Ah, the first body of the night approached, but Louis kept his eyes on his wine. A long, manicured finger traced the rim of his half full glass, waiting on the i n e v i t a b l e pick up line or ( in rare cases ), a genuine conversation starter from the other. For their sake, he hoped it would be engaging. Claudia had no patience for trivial, nonsensical babble.

open: to anyone from the mcu, m if romanticformatting: beta editor

I don't think you realize just how terrifying the universe can be. There are far worse things out there than Thanos or even me.

open starter ||   ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ f. louis de pointe du lac

          The  place  smelled  strongly  of  bourbon,  but  Louis  never  cared  much  for  the  stuff.  Give  him  a  hard  whiskey  on  ice.  The  aftermath  come  morning  was  far  more  tolerable  than  that  of  the  rich  man’s  drink.  Still,  he  hadn’t  the  heart  to  turn  down  the  glass  that  was  slid  towards  him  by  the  stranger.  They’d  been  watching  him  all  night  which  led  him  to  believe  they  might  be  interested  in  talking  business.

          “Merci,”       he  muttered  quietly.  He  eventually  raises  his  head,  curious  eyes  watching  the  other  with  a  hint  of  wariness.  In  this  town,  people  like  him  had  to  be  careful.  One  could  never  know  who  was  actually  capable  of  setting  aside  prejudices  and  far  be  it  for  him  to  end  up  in  a  trap.       “Is  this  drink  a  prelude  to  a  friendly  discussion  of  business  or...  something  else?”

open starter ||   ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ w. louis de pointe du lac )

                The  air  around  him  stifled  him  some  nights.  After  all  this  time,  he  still  had  moments  when  his  senses  overwhelmed  him.  Between  the  person  who  had  been  following  him  for  several  blocks  and  the  wind  that  was  howling,  he  was  feeling  rather  anxious.  Eventually  Louis  stopped  and  took  a  seat  upon  the  park’s  bench.  If  they  were  going  to  approach,  he  was  giving  them  the  opportune  moment.  Hopefully,  they  came  in  peace.  He  did  not  consider  himself  a  killer  by  any  means,  but  he’d  learned  over  the  years  that  ---  if  necessary  ---  he’d  do  what  he  must  to  protect  himself.

open starter || ｡･::･ﾟ’★,｡･::･ﾟ’☆ f. gaara

Gaara was silent, staring down into his hot tea as if he hadn't sensed the other presence watching him nearby. The corners of his mouth twitched, as they had made it quite the habit of doing such a thing as of late. Up until now, Gaara saw no real reason to call them out on it. If they wanted to fight, they would have picked one by now. Still, curiosity was starting to get the best of him and so with eyes closed, he spoke up quietly wondering if he would finally get some answers this day.

"I feel your chakra --- your presence often --- yet you choose to remain in the shadows. Why is that?"

open starter || ｡･::･ﾟ’★,｡･::･ﾟ’☆ f. Adrian Tepes

" Honestly, where are your manners? If you wish to know something, why not simply ask the person as opposed to whispering quite loudly behind their back? "

open starter ||   ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ f. thranduil

         𝓛𝓞𝓝𝓖  𝓛𝓔𝓖𝓢  𝓐𝓓𝓞𝓡𝓝𝓔𝓓  𝓑𝓨  𝓒𝓡𝓔𝓜𝓔  𝓒𝓞𝓛𝓞𝓡𝓔𝓓  𝓣𝓘𝓖𝓗𝓣𝓢  𝓦𝓔𝓡𝓔  𝓒𝓡𝓞𝓢𝓢𝓔𝓓  𝓔𝓛𝓔𝓖𝓐𝓝𝓣𝓛𝓨. Brown  flats  covered  dainty  feet,  but  no  one  ever  paid  much  attention  to  his  feet.  No,  eyes  oft  roamed  the  expanse  of  his  legs,  stopping  where  an  elegant  robe  parted  just  enough  to  show  hints  of  the  swell  of  perfectly  toned  thighs.  Thranduil  was  used  to  such  scrutiny.  Such  was  the  life  of  an  elf  after  all,  so  he  oft  waited,  allowing  his  guests  to  drink  their  fill.

         Robes  usually  covered  his  arms  and  today  wasn't  any  different.  His  robe  of  choice  was  an  emerald  green  that  fit  loosely  around  a  slender  frame.  Pale  fingers  held  up  a  book  just  shy  of  covering  his  face  while  the  others  turned  pages  elegantly  every  so  often.  Those  icy  grey,  sometimes  blue  eyes  remained  trained  upon  the  text  but  he  knew  exactly  what  he  was  doing.  Just  enough  of  his  wrist  would  show  as  he  flipped  each  page, the  sight  of  bare  skin  sporting  jeweled  bracelets  being  more  than  enough  to  entrance  waiting  guests.  That  isn't  to  say  Thranduil  was  high  on  himself  physically.  On  the  contrary,  he'd  yet  to  meet  an  elf  that  wasn't  pleasing  in  some  form.  No,  this  came  from  years  of  studying  others  at  the  behest  of  his  late  father,  particularly  humans.  It  didn't  take  much  to  have  them  wide  eyed  with  desire  which  often  made  conversations  sail  a  lot  smoother.

         ❝  Do  you  intend  to  STARE  all  evening  from  afar?  Approach  and  use  your  words.  I  could  use  the  company    𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖑.  ❞

open starter || ｡･::･ﾟ’★,｡･::･ﾟ’☆ f. Iruka

Even though he spent most of his time in a classroom, he did occasionally make his way to the training grounds when the hour was late. It was the only time he dared train since it meant few were liable to stumble upon him and intrude. That and he didn't want to risk failing at something and being potentially whispered about on the morrow.

Tonight's training was his sad attempt to master a knife throwing technique. Try as he might to line up all the kunais, one always missed the mark.

"Dammit!" he groaned out. "What am I doing wrong?"

There was a sound --- like leaves rustling --- and he whipped around, heart racing. "Who's there?" he questioned, hoping he was paranoid for nothing.

open starter || ｡･::･ﾟ’★,｡･::･ﾟ’☆ f. Hector

Any time there was a slight change in the wind, Hector found himself feeling uneasy. Dracula might have been dead ( or so it was perceived anyway ), but that didn't mean people were still trying to find ways to bring him back or worse, meddling in other awful things that could turn the world upside down again. No longer calling himself a forgemaster, Hector had refrained making the very beings that nearly helped wipe out the world once before. But sometimes, the need for that added protection would kick in, especially on nights when he felt spook.

"I hate this time of the year," he grumbled. "And no, I am not afraid." Lies. "But I do feel uneasy when the air's like this."

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ ( open )

❝ sometimes, i just need the world to be beautiful. i know how dark and ugly it can be but i just want to see something good and focus only on it for a few minutes. ❞

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ ( open )

❝ i’m only really living in the moments when we’re together. the rest is just existing until you look at me again. ❞

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ ( open )

❝ you’ve stolen my heart, the least you could do is tell me what you intend to do with it. ❞

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ // open // post BOTF // using tumblr's beta editor o/

❝And  to  whom  am  I  speaking?❞

The  question  was  posed  lazily,  the  Elvenking  hardly  bothering  to  look  up  from  where  he  lounged  upon  his  throne.  He  was  rather  engrossed  in  his  readings,   an  easy  thing  to  do  now  that  war  had  reached  its  end.  He  was  trying  to,  for  lack  of  a  better  phrase,  open  himself  up  more.  That  is  to  say,  whereas  before  he  spent  little  time  allowing  an  audience  with  himself,  he  was  trying  to  change  that  despite  his  internal  struggles.  Socializing  was  tedious  on  the  best  of  days  for  a  reclusive  elf.  Nevertheless,  the  floor  was  open  to  his  guest,  for  however  long  he  could  stand  it.

open starter ||   ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ w. daemon targaryen )

   Daemon  sat  quietly,  posture  rather  unbecoming  of  a  Rogue  Prince,  but  it  hardly  mattered  in  a  place  like  this.  Such  establishments  allowed  for  time  away  from  impending  responsibilities  that  awaited  him  just  outside  sour  tents  made  so  by  the  aura  of  sex.  Sweat,  tears,  ale...  all  combined  with  the  other  stenches  to  form  an  aroma  that  worked  to  sate  the  senses  when  he  was  too  tired  to  bother  with  the  rigorous  activity  of  hard  thrusting.  He’d  been  approached  once  or  twice  but  most  could  tell  by  the  look  on  his  face  that  now  was  not  the  time.  He  had  much  on  his  mind  and  so  he’d  come  here  to  escape  judgmental  stares  or  hushed  whispers.  Not  necessarily  to  get  naked.

   “  It  should  have  been  most  PAINFULLY  OBVIOUS  that  company  isn’t  what  I  require  right  now.  ”       He  didn’t  bother  to  look  at  them.  More  than  likely,  they  weren’t  worth  the  honor  of  his  undivided  attention.       “  Fucking  feels  like  a  chore  tonight.  Geros  ilas.  I’m  thinking.  ”