I've been writing this terrible au fic (I can't write lmao)... and I just can't stop thinking about Magnus Bane covered in dirt and blood with his hair falling across his forehead and a tiny cut running across his cheekbone, holding a gun up with so much practiced confidence and this cocky smirk that screams "try me" and it's really getting to me and I needed to share that with someone
how are you gonna come for me like this when i’m not awake
imagine that though, not to just steal your shit but magnus bane holding a pitch black 10mm, one of his painted fingernails curled around the trigger, staring down the barrel like it was an extension of his very arm. imagine the wind blowing through ruffling his hair and that slow kind of low chuckle, his dark brown eyes hard biting ice and the goatee framing his slow smirk.
imagine his steady breathing, nothing ruffling him, just this impassive stony line of a man pointing a gun at it’s shaking mark. their voice echoes, stuttered and broken, fear heavy on the air and he takes a step forward, muscles taut, slinking forward with this practiced ease that causes that ripple of fear to have an afterlife. a single gun shot echoes and he drops his hand, curling his lip.
He can already feel the tension in the house. It was thick and it made his stomach churn. Running a hand through his hair, he swallowed hard. Slowly but surely, he ascended the stairs to his room. He’d stay out of their way, at least for now. Wiping at his own eyes, he made his way over to his bed room door.
FAPuary Day2 - a bit late because of my wrist giving up halfway through the page. Got myself a wrist support today, on to todays page then :3 .. which will probably also end up being uploaded a day late omg. Why am I always late??
When someone finds out you love one direction then asks how you’re dealing with “the break up” and you know they aren’t worth the whole tortured explanation and your belief system re: The Hiatus™ but you can’t figure out what to say other than “fuck off, becky”: