#BlackenedVines
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annkthatcher.bsky.social
Hi there, I'm Ann!

Most of my writing is dark or smutty. Or both. I really favor horror and romance. 🖤

Feel free to reblog, interact and leave comments!
Masterlist posted below. Carrd posted in my bio.

#Terato #scentofwildflowers #blackenedvines #monstermag #kinktober #whumpcember #yanderezine
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October 9, 2025 at 2:32 PM
annkthatcher.bsky.social
She'd likely have spent all of her soul in attempting to slow or stop the corruption. Or more likely, if she hadn't met with her own personal monster, she would have become one. #FallenSaints #BlackenedVines
January 2, 2025 at 5:46 PM
annkthatcher.bsky.social
These three nutcases. Art by @kittiemancer.bsky.social !

They arent typical of vamps, having been made by a curse on the land. the marks of the curse are left on their skin, patterned usually in vines like the flowers that grow from their spilled blood. a flower that consumes them.

#BlackenedVines
a handsome man sitting on a stone throne. his face in leaned onto his hand, the fingers stained with something dark, with black, vine-like markings twisting over his skin. his long platinum hair hangs almost loose, some long strands braided, decorated with silver clasps. he wears plated armor and a long red cloak wrappped over his shoulders, spilling down, pinned to the armor by straps. a great white scar pulls the corner of his mouth, carving all the way across his cheek, splitting his skin, exposing art of his teeth. crimson eyes stare into the viewers own. his face is slightly amused, and yet theres something hollow in those dark eyes. a woman stares mournfully at the viewer. dark hair spills over her shoulders beneath a transluscent veil and a crown of thorned flowers. a priestess, dressed for ceremony. shadowy horns stretch from within the crowns circle. large wings strech at her back made of flesh and bone, as pale as moonlight. a pattern of dark vines wrap her throat and wings. they almost seem to match the pattern of vines climbing the stairs behind her. her face seems so sad, as if the stiff, dark robes and dark layers of jewelry is suffocating her. a dark haired man stares off into the distance. black strands tumble into his face. he wipes the corner of his lip, exposing the dark patterns on the back of his hand. dissimilar from the other two, these marks are curving and sharp, like fire. as if he's been branded under his skin. his green eyes are narrowed, caught somewhere between anxiety and fury. he wears a thick, dark tunic, overlayed with golden armore. a filligree pauldron on one side and one inscrbed with scrolling patterns on the other.
October 13, 2025 at 3:05 PM