#and the mole under my eye (but i used the heart stamp in its place)

[corvidinthewoods]

this picrew is, personally, the best i've ever used. i gave to the creator's ko-fi but i wanna spread it more! so, i wanna share some of its options up front in hopes it encourages you to try it out. alt text included for images btw

many skin tones:

three kinds of body type plus you can mix-and-match the torso, jawline, and cleavage (idk a better word for if ya got boobies showin, sorry)

good variety of noses:

TONS of hair in many different styles and textures, including protective styles like locs or braids and natural styles like space buns or afros. there's even facial hair!!

plus, all hair can be colored independently, even down to the eyebrows

multiple sections for face and body markings such as acne, scars, vitiligo, wrinkles, and freckles.

each of these sections can be adjusted to the color matches the skin tone

three options for headscarf:

ALL the clothing and necklaces have versions to fit each body type, and each headscarf works for all three

misc other stuff includes makeup, piercings, heterochromia, hats, glasses, horns, animal ears, and more

please go try it. it's so good. i've never been so happy with a picrew, and i'm white so i can usually make them look at least somewhat like myself. but this? this is nearly perfect, and i feel so happy. hopefully with such diverse options more people can get that.

image description: myself, made using the linked picrew. very light skin, xl body, soft/round jawline, thin nude-pink lips, button nose with a straight bridge, hazel eyes with lashes, thin eyebrows, small under-eye wrinkles, and pink acne spots all around the face, neck, and shoulders. i have round gold glasses, a black heart stamp under one eye, and am smiling with my tongue sticking out. my head hair is short, dark brown, and tucked into a backwards-facing white ballcap, and there small amount of light facial hair on either side of my face. i'm wearing a black t-shirt with ripped sleeves, gold heart stud earrings, and two silver necklaces. one necklace is short, one is long, and the long one has a small pendant. the head is framed from behind with a white circle and two yellow sparkles. the background is the trans flag. over one shoulder is the artist's watermark, "MAKÓWKA PICREW". end ID

[strayen-fx]

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

[waldos-writing]

The Dig Initiative: Chapter 19

I Am Lawrence DuVang

“I found the cream, but I don’t know which one of those containers is sugar,” said Joe at the kitchen counter. He had on a dark suit, his light hair neatly parted to the side. Very clean, very put together. There was a ceramic mug in each hand. “I dunno. You take it with sugar? I feel like you did, but I forgot your last Starbucks order. It’s a lot, boss, you know? Lot to remember.”

The mugs had long trails of steam after them as Joe carefully carried each from the kitchen to the little dinette they used for breakfast. He smiled pleasantly as he set them down on corkboard coasters, cheap little things the family had used when they didn’t care or didn’t need to impress at a dinner party. The curtains were open. A thin morning light strained in through the light fog.

“I don’t think it was sugar. I think it was just the cream. You know what, though? Felicity will tell me. She’s got a lot of that stored away for me. Girl is a godsend, if you know what I mean.”

Joe was freshly showered with a neat shaven face. He looked good; better than he had in a long time, actually. Certainly better than he did when he was driving, but perhaps the uniform and the job made him look a little less, in a way. If anything, he felt good, and it showed. He had a big easy grin as he sat down and took one of the coffee cups in his hands, holding it beneath his nose to enjoy the aroma.

“You can tell me if you use sugar, but, honestly, maybe you want to cut back a little. Maybe you want to drink it black. I like it black, you know, but I had to get it just right. Keeps everyone calm. I go in there, right, and I order a black coffee and some schmuck is going to go ‘Hey! You never take it black! You like it super sweet! Who are you!’ and then the whole thing starts to fall apart.”

As he leaned back in his chair, two of the legs lifting off the ground. Joe hummed and watched the wind pick away at the tiny buds on the trees. Summer couldn’t come fast enough, he usually said. Get the whole gloomy winter months out of the way. But now that it was coming, Joe decided to sit back and enjoy what he had while he had it.

“I don’t mind if it falls apart, if I’m honest, which I am, given all that’s happened. No, you’re right, I wasn’t honest then, but I had to get everything set into place and you were doing such a good job, you know? You put it all into action. You got my people up and running. And Altamira is just churning them out like stamps. Couldn’t be prouder.

“But, now this is a big but, but if everything does decide to go to shit, you know what? I’m ready. Oh it’s been time and a half since I had a good big brawl over something and I’m feeling the itch. You know what that is? You ever been in a fight? Boss?”

Lawrence DuVang sat in the chair across the table, pinned to the armrests by the kitchen knives that were stuck in each hand. He blinked with black-bruised eyes, trying hard not to shift too much in the uncomfortable seat. It did not help that both of his feet were amputated and were resting on the floor beside him like a pair of pink shoes.

It had been over two weeks since he’d come home and taken care of his family. They were rotting away in their rooms while Joe did his work around the house, collecting items he thought were either important or interesting, and taking pieces off Lawrence he felt the same about. Lawrence couldn’t remember what Joe really looked like anymore or when the power shift occured.

One moment he was leaving his bedroom, ready to eat a bullet, and the next Joe was holding him and telling him it was going to be alright, that he would make it better. Sounded so reassuring then until Joe had him locked away in the bathroom and told him it was for his own good. Said he needed to wash and shave and Joe was going to help him. They had stood naked in front of the mirror, Lawrence shaving his face with a shaky hand that moved on its own while Joe did the same. They cut each other’s hair, went over every mole and scar on Lawrence’s body and did quick work to mimic them on the driver. They didn’t match, not enough, and Joe scalped Lawrence’s ear in one swipe, tossing it into the sink without another word. It hurt. Lawrence didn’t scream or flinch, but it hurt. God it hurt. He wanted to slap his head and hold the wound and scream and scream, but he didn’t. Or couldn’t. Still hurt.

It was a kind of hazy list of tasks as they spent the day in that bathroom, a day in the study practicing handwriting, a day in the yard when he thought about running and Joe took away his left foot, a day lying shivering on the couch and screaming and screaming until Joe took away the right one. Joe asked about everything. Everything. How many times he peed in a day, where was his favorite place to eat lunch, what order he put his socks on, did he only pick his nose in the morning or the evening or when he was sitting on the toilet, which app did he like to open when he was bored in the afternoon, which pen he liked best from his desk, how often did he lose his keys, how often did he skip a meal, how often did he masturbate in a day or a week or a month and to what and with or without headphones, what gum did he chew, what gum did he chew when that gum wasn’t available, what gum did he hate, what did he do with the wrappers, what did he do with the rest of his garbage, why didn’t he like to recycle, why didn’t he like to wear sunglasses, how did he like his shoes and when did he buy new ones and how often did he leave a lace untied just because? Joe knew a surprising number of those answers already and when Lawrence didn’t cooperate or match with whatever knowledge Joe had, he’d slice another part of him or kick him to the ground or lock him in his son’s room, his wife’s room, his daughter’s room. When Joe was gone, all the old hurts came back. It was too much. He was fed pieces of his family over the week as Joe smiled. Too much.

“Why?” he croaked, but Joe just pushed another slimy bit of skin and fat into Lawrence’s mouth.

“Oh, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve done anything really hard,” said Joe, smiling across the table. He sipped the coffee without wincing this time. “I’ve had it pretty slick while I was your driver, boss. I had to push you around a little, of course. Hijacked your cognitive what-how every now and again. Dig Initiative. Not even sly, that Felicity. She thought it was funny and sometimes I like to indulge. Because damn if she isn’t the best.”

Lawrence moaned, drooling down his chin. He wanted to vomit, but that seemed like too much effort. Everything was screaming, his skin, his skull, his eyes. His body was fire and he wondered how much longer he could take it.

“A while, boss.” Joe looked him right in the eye, not with that fake easy-going face, but sharp and dangerous and knowing. Lawrence’s heart raced as Joe kept that stare, set down his coffee, and stood up. “I know you. I know you inside and out. I look like you, I dress like you.” Joe dropped his voice, changed it a little and when he spoke, made it sound like it was coming from Lawrence’s mouth. “I talk like you. But I am not you. Not yet.”

“You can’t,” Lawrence muttered, licking his lips. He started to cry again. They were just little tears, almost nothing, but he held his breath anyway. His lip started to shake and then his shoulders and then it tugged at his hands. His legs swung from the chair without feet to steady him against the floor. “You can’t do this.”

“I can do anything, boss,” said Joe. He was back again with the smile and his own voice. He started to come closer, a genial prowl. “You’re in no position to tell me I can’t do anything. Nobody is. You’re just a man. And I’m your god.”

Joe brushed Lawrence’s cheek as he passed, humming again some old used-up song. As he did, he placed a little vial on the table, something he had found buried in Lawrence’s sock drawer. It was empty, but he recognized it, somehow. He remembered little blank moments with his family and when he tucked it away in his pocket before dinner or in a glass of orange juice for his kids.

“What is that?” Lawrence asked, trying hard not to cry anymore, trying to swallow.

“You know,” Joe whispered in his remaining ear. His breath was hot and coffee stained. “I was hoping for an oracle. But we didn’t need the family anyways. One less person I have to lie to when I go out there to take the world.”

Joe dragged his tongue across his lips, slowly, sensually, before he shoved Lawrence into the table. He was unable to catch himself as the chair banged against the wood and tipped to the left. He crashed to the ground.

“Listen, boss.” Joe kicked away one of Lawrence’s detached feet. “This has been fun, you know? Real fun. Brings me back to the first day they finally got it right at Montemille. Premier dieu. I knew I had to become. Always knew it. Obviously there was all that power and I had to survive the trial to evolve and take it. Hey, nothing comes easy. Nothing comes free. And why would we want it to, y’know? And now.”

Joe stomped down on the chair, which shattered under his foot. Lawrence screamed. His arm was fractured but free, so he tried to claw his way out to anywhere, just away, even a few feet, an inch, anything, but it was wasted effort.

“Now I get to put everyone else through it. It’s only fair. I will only play fair, even if I make the rules and I remake the world because nobody else understood that the real Father was already here and ready to take them into his arms. It’s going to be beautiful! You don’t even know yet. It’s going to the greatest day in history. Or…it’s going to be the end of history, and that’ll be great too. And you! Let me tell you why this all….”

Lawrence closed his eyes. He didn’t care about the anger hovering over him. He slipped into the dark, falling further and further from his old body. Drums beat his ears, loud and as comforting as a heartbeat. That too started to slowly drift away. He just needed to fall. It was so easy. Almost below the water, almost free, almost there. It was okay. He smelled a familiar perfume and a slender pale hand stroked his neck. Someone was shouting over him, but it was so far away, so far away, muffled by the distance. It was okay. The woman’s hand gently brushed his cheek. He turned to kiss Elaine.

“God, I missed you,” he said against her. She laughed, beautiful full laughter like he had never heard. His angel. His salvation.

“It’s okay,” she said, brushing his eyes with her thumbs and kissing them closed; one and then the other. It was. It was okay.

Lawrence embraced her and disappeared in the dark.

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