#violent touches

[bnesszai]

i am so normal about skk and what touch means to them. so normal. never been weird about it ever

[sunrotdropbrain]

Source under cut

[technically-human]

Part two of the reverse verse is here! The reverse boys meet the original boys. They're not really getting along as well as I had hoped...

Again, this was a commission for @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are and they asked for angst/funny vibes... I think it's mostly just angst though. Oh, well...

Part one

[thywheelof-fate]

what if our hands accidentally brushed against each other during our weekly evil meeting and I act cool but then later I crawl back to my sewers and vomit out of anxiety and scrape my knees bloody as I pray against the altar of my father and swear, I swear, I don't love you, I don't even like you, and that my last actions on this planet will be to ensure that we die by the same blade, in the same motion, only after everyone else

and then I go back to you the next day and I'm like "hey :) feeling totally normal :) I only want to kill you the normal amount :)"

[originalaccountname]

My turn to be skk-posting

in my ideal vision, when they finally get in something resembling a relationship (as adults, they were Not There as teenagers), it's because they both want it, which means they unlock previously forbidden features with each other like sharing a bed instead of a couch (you all know about my weird obsession with skk and couches), but also freely touching.

Dazai is a rather tactile person; my guy is freed after 2 weeks in prison and the first thing he does is dance, poke at, lean/hug and play with the hair of the first non-evil person (a stranger) he meets. Being with Chuuya, he constantly finds himself in Chuuya's bubble, and indulges in ways he usually can't with others. That often means direct skin contact, not even with ulterior motives, but really just because he is allowed and he wants to.

Chuuya on the other hand has never done something gently ever: he is fierce, he cares and loves intensely, and he never lets go, but he barely knows the concept of a reassuring gesture (working on it). Dazai being in his bubble wouldn't bother him at all by that point, but the handsy part? it's awkward. needs some getting used to. It's a learning opportunity.

And when Chuuya gets used to it and finally makes a move to return the favour? it's Dazai who short-circuits.

[robiinurheart33]

Thinking of Simon laying his head on Johnny’s stomach and him playing with his hair and smiling down at him while he sleeps

Thinking of Simon lightly squeezing and unsqueezing Johnny’s waist under his shirt absentmindedly and placing his chin on his head

Thinking of Soap squeezing the back of Ghost’s neck before a mission and smiling at him

Thinking of when either of them can’t sleep they’ll place their head on the other’s chest and listen to their heartbeat while wrapping their arms around them to soothe them into sleeping

Thinking of how Simon would be clingy in bed and wrapping around Johnny like a snake even though he tries to get away because it’s too hot he will never let go

[k9punkout]

till's drawing is of Earth. these trees aren't circular, they have twisting, extending trunks and branches, they're flawed and natural and alive.

till was most fascinated by ivan when he was dirtied and raw, no mask to put up, no facade of perfection to maintain.

he fell for mizi's smile, always so bright and honest.

till's always loved genuine things. it makes sense, because he was born surrounded by genuine love.

(there is something so gut-wrenching to be said about how this unfeigned and natural boy had his body destroyed by chemicals and needles, trapped in a lab devoid of nature and freedom)

taking into account how young he looks, till might not remember his mother beyond a blur, a half-faded warm face that looks like his.

it's possible that io isn't anything more than a feeling, a memory of gentle love that lingers despite the harsh cruelty of the world till's in.

she lingers, she stays, she becomes a nameless, faceless part of him. he meets a girl with a mother's kindness and clings to her like a lifeline.

in his final moments, she holds him like he used to be held, makes him feel loved like he is.

that wave of familiarity hits him.

dying feels like coming home.

[thediaryofarevolutionist]

I could be the woman that gets killed and raped because i said no and rejected a man. YOU could be the woman that gets killed and raped because YOU rejected a man and said no. Don’t think that you are better than every other women because of the way you dress or act. If a man decides for you to be a victim you will be a victim.

[peachsayshi]

How would your yandere version of gojo react to someone who’s being sneaky to reader? Or just to someone who constantly messes with her? Have a nice day btw

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

gojo notices that you've been uncomfortable lately. he can't quite pinpoint what's bothering you, but he definitely can't keep ignoring the helpless look in your eyes.

"baby, what's wrong?" he asks one night.

you were peeling carrots, quietly preparing a delicious dinner to share with your lover. you started making these slow cooked meals about three weeks ago. comfort food, satoru thought to himself, but your dwindling enthusiasm over one of your favorite hobbies chips away at his heart.

you give him a small smile. "there's nothing wrong" you chirp, but your boyfriend grits his teeth at your pathetic lie.

you turn to glance back at the discarded orange ribbons, only to pause once again when you feel his large hand slowly caress the back of your palm.

"c'mon, you've got me all worried..." he insists, trying his best to reign in his frustration.

the front of your brows lift with concern, and he immediately leans forward to kiss away the tension. you breathe out a heavy sigh, carefully placing the peeler onto the cutting board before turning to face him. your fingers shake when you reach for the fabric of his shirt, and the pace of satoru's heart quickens at your odd behavior.

his mind runs rampant with the worst possible scenarios, but what he finally hears from you only fuels his anger.

he didn't know that you were being harassed by your new boss.

"he's just awful," you complain, shaking your head out of frustration, "he makes all these inappropriate comments, completely disregards any personal space that I have and leers every time I'm alone in the room with him. the whole thing makes me uncomfortable and I don't know what to do about it. I'm up for a promotion soon - I'm...worried if I say anything, then...then it might ruin everything I worked so hard for."

satoru's blood boils. his entire body feels unnaturally hot. he doesn't like that your voice sounds so small, so uncertain, and it blinds him with absolute rage.

the thought of another man having the audacity to ogle what belongs to him makes his stomach flip.

when your panicked eyes glances up at him from underneath your pretty lashes, is when he feels your grip tighten around his shirt.

"it's fine, satoru," you plea out of desperation, "I didn't want to tell because I don't want you to get upset about this. I'll be out of this department once I get my promotion. I just have to put up with his crap for a little while longer."

satoru doesn't have anything to say- he just stares at you with dead, cold eyes. his body is stiff when you stand on your tiptoes to brush your lips over his, and he only relaxes when he parts his lips to invite your tongue.

"you're not mad at me, are you?" you murmur, and he instantly shakes his head no.

"I'm just upset that you're having such a hard time," he exhales, and finds your waist to give you a reassuring squeeze. "I promise I'm not mad."

he eased your mind, however, it didn't stop the war waging inside his own.

unfortunately for him, he is still satoru gojo - the man has so much power and influence as the head of his clan, that he can't exactly just walk up to the piece of shit and knock his teeth out.

after all, he had to play by the rules of dealing with a non sorcerer.

one call to the ceo would easily solve the problem, but that option felt far too easy for him. instead, he spent every spare moment digging deep into the man who was stupid enough to fuck around with you. he gathered every ounce of information that he could find to potentially ruin his life, and then used it.

an envelope sent by an "anonymous" person was dropped off to your boss's home, revealing to his wife the series of texts between him and his many, many mistresses. satoru delighted in finding out that he was soon kicked out and living at a hotel.

that's when satoru began the fun little mind games. he would show up in the middle of the night knocking on the door of your boss's room before disappearing. he did it repeatedly for days, until the man began looking visibly distressed.

satoru would randomly appear at the foot of his bed, standing there like a ghost in the night until the man would wake up in sheer terror, but by the time the lights were on, the sorcerer had already vanished.

satoru would call him rat all hours but would never speak a word. he smiled with amusement when the man eventually broke down, begging to whoever it was on the receiving end to please leave him alone.

satoru would follow him from the office back to his hotel room every single night, keeping a safe distance to ensure he remained hidden in the shadows, all the while gleaming with pride as he watched the man shake with fear.

you were none the wiser to your boyfriends menacing shenanigans.

you came home one evening with a smile plastered on your face, a smile that satoru missed dearly, and he pretended to act pleasantly surprised.

"did you have a good day, angel?" he asks with a gentle kiss.

"I did actually!"

"that asshole isn't giving you a hard time anymore, right?" your boyfriend questions, embellishing his concern while feigning ignorance.

"actually, he backed off, but I definitely think it's because he's preoccupied with his upcoming divorce. he's been in really terrible shape lately..."

satoru shrugs his shoulders with indifference, "can't say I feel sorry for him..."

"I heard through the grapevine that he's submitted his resignation letter. although, it could just be petty office gossip..."

the corner of satoru's mouth twitches into a grin. he playfully taps the tip of your nose before leaning down to kiss your cheek. "well, all I can say is good fucking riddance."

please check pinned for requests x

[ruporas]

deserving to be held

[cursedvida]

Imagine if there was a moment when one of the humans thinks Mae is a traitor because she doesn't want to hurt Noa, and they shoots/hurts her in front of Noa and Noa gets mad.

The truth is that a situation where other humans think Mae is a traitor seems quite plausible to me, and I wouldn't be surprised at all to see it in the upcoming movies if they choose to explore the relationship between Mae and Noa by making her feel genuinely conflicted about him.

Anyways, chimpanzees are about six times stronger than humans, so that person would likely be as good as dead. Although considering that Noa is not particularly violent, we could say that person would end up in critical condition instead.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Royal Red

Have you ever seen blood BURN like the sun?

I'm not even sure "burn" is the right word for it. Writhe? Scream? HATE? Like a standing on a cliff, staring down at a valley consumed in flames. Old forests full of life... burning. Dying. Wrong.

The sky choked with thick black smoke. Tar-like and staining. The ROAR of it. Moisture ripped so utterly from the air, it hurts to breathe. Heat so absolute as it rises... you can not imagine there was ever, EVER life here.

But there was.

And it was once beautiful.

Ancient and green, bird song and morning mist. Moss beneath bare feet and the gentle quiet that is no quiet at all. A thing ALIVE. Breathing. Whole. Now gone beneath the flame. The carnage and hunger. As animals flee for their lives and your men die, desperate to hold back the all consuming spread.

Nothing but FIRE remains.

But have you seen BLOOD burn? The weeping wounds of a soul? The... WRONGNESS inside a man, catch light? A shade of ever overlapping crimson. Drying blood somehow just as fluid as the fresh. Old wounds and new. Somewhere, the depth of scars...

BURNING.

I have.

I do.

I wish I did not.

There is something... WRONG with his Highness. Now, the Crown Prince. He... He HAD brothers. Some were awful, others indifferent. But all of them? All of them are gone. Terrible accidents, allegedly. One after another. And they were NOT the only one's. Consorts, lovers, mistresses and supporters. Allies and anyone unfortunate enough to be in his Highness' way.

But of course, I can prove nothing. And to SUGGEST such a thing? That would be Treason. Defamation of a Royal. That it is TRUE? Holds no bearing. Is utterly irrelevant. Even if I HAD had the proper training, even I'd my Gifts WERE formally recognized, ultimately? Politics is King.

It's not supposed to be. But when has life ever been so kind? When has "supposed to" EVER won the day? No. Such talk gets men killed. And dying once? Was quite enough for me.

Though I HAD to wonder...

How does a Protagonist fuck up SO BADLY, that they somehow send their Hidden Route target, into an empire conquering, murder spiral? That's not "a few bad choices" levels of making a mistake. THAT'S? Damn near deliberate sabotage and I just wanna talk. Violently.

I WOULD too, if I wasn't pretty certain they were either on the run or in exile.

All I had wanted? ALL I HAD EVER WANTED?? Was to just be set dressing. Soldier A, the unimportant background gaurd. A nice, faceless, grunt. Maybe chat with my equals of plot significance, a potted plant and yonder chair. Then? I could take my pay, go home, and live quietly.

But NO!

I get stationed following the Seventh prince. Mr. Hidden Route himself. Which? Okay, fine. Was HOPING for gate duty, cause NOTHING happens on gate duty, but FINE. But THEN? Half my co-workers are ASSHOLES. Like... child abusing assholes! The FUCK?!

So? Oops. Accident on the stairs! Whoops! Lemme help you there, man. Oh? Did I ACCIDENTALLY crush the hand you used to hit that kid? Golly! Gee, I sure hope the healers can fix that for you! (I fucking know they both can't and wouldn't if they could. You can't afford SHIT.) Lemme HELP you there, AGAIN, BUUUUUDDY~☆!

Threatening you? Why I would NEVER! That's illegal!

You know... like hitting kids.

And OTHER shit they try to pull. Never DID get around to updating my Gaurd Forms. Whoops. Turns out being able to literally SEE the malicious intent on a fucker? Makes it pretty easy to know who to watch. DID get jumped a lot though. Stabbed a few times.

I just? Wanted to watch my favorite Otome game play out, you know? Get payed while doing it. Sunk cost fallacy kicked in. I've been here since I was a PRE-TEEN. Signed up for training, a ten year contract, and everything! I can LEAVE now... but like? Go WHERE? And honestly... I'm not actually sure I CAN.

Things are... Tense.

Or maybe they're just tense for me? 'Cause... Cause something isn't right. It's that burning blood color. The way it fills a room. Reaches, covetous, like staining hands. Writhes and drags itself against everything. Something unholy, between a lustful grind and the dragging of the wounded. It's not even demonic. No... somehow? It's WORSE for being utterly human.

There is something deeply wrong with the man I am sworn to obey, and I do not know how to escape him.

Because I definitely SHOULD.

I'm not stupid. He's been... been keeping me, SPECIFICALLY, close at hand, since becoming Crown Prince. The SECOND he was able to assign his OWN gaurds? I am suddenly honor gaurd. Yet not. I have basically no job but to stab just behind and to the side of him and look pretty. (For the given quality of THAT.) And...? Even the other gaurds are looking nervous.

It's NEVER a good thing when powerful people suddenly pay attention to an individual gaurd, servant, or maid. They tend to end up... hurt. Dead. Worse. And given recent behavior? Well... I've been getting offers to quietly arrange an "accident" for me.

Not so sure it won't get everyone involved killed.

He wasn't always LIKE this. Yeah, he was... different, but it wasn't BAD. Just... off. A bit weird. A color I hadn't seen before and couldn't for the life of me figure out. It had been... well, nothing. Not even grey. I KNOW grey, it's apathy or depression. Emotional flatness.

But his Highness? Like mist. The lite distortion of water droplets. Colorless and near weightless, drifting gently along. It was as though he DIDNT have emotional responses to anything. Not even flat. Just... non-existant. Which? If so? That's okay! Really. Takes all types. Something to NOTE, yeah, maybe accommodate? But fine.

It's not like there were psychiatric meds or doctors we could get for him. If he was different, so be it. We just had to work around that. Plan accordingly. Worst case scenario, maybe keep him away from small breakable things. But? He seemed benign. I shrugged and moved on. Accepted him as he was.

Maybe went out of my way to explain things with logic more then feelings. Even when I WAS explaining feelings. Ethics. Pretty much anything else he asked. Which... wait a second...

Fuck.

A nameless gaurd SHOULD NOT know that much about psychology or politics. Economics on the macro or micro scale. Oh god DAMN it Wikipedia! You betray me a lifetime away?! Et Tu random research binges!?

Okay. Okay! So maaaaybe? THATS why he's keeping me close? Cause yeah, I'm pretty stacked these days. No internet kinda leaves nothing BUT time to train and read... and books are kinda hard to get, at my level. So like? Maybe a second set of eyes?

....doesn't feel right though. Close but missing the obvious mark-ish.

I try to think of my interactions with the prince. BEFORE murder-spiral kick-off. He sought me out a lot. I interfered so many times when his Tutors crossed lines, they got me kicked out of the main building. He started skipping lessons to self-study. I got put on patrol? He learned my patrol schedule. Would invade the gaurd mess.

Got punished for that, I think. Vicious cycle. I get punished, he gets upset, wants to make sure I'm okay, I get punished for his basic empathy and being a kid. They kept reassigning me. I got stabbed that first time. Sent too...

Wait.

I try to pull up what I know of the Game in my brain. The Hidden Route and the other Routes. We are.... WAY off script. Not off GENRE... just...?

Mentally I set the Game aside. Shifting in my guarding position at the Crown Prince's side. He continues to work. The soft rustle of papers and the scratching of his pen, filling the silence along side the clink and shift of my armor. We are in the sun room, surrounded by flowers, supposedly for the better light.

To be honest, I hadn't ever BEEN in this room until I was basicly expected to tail the Crown Prince like a glorified, armor wearing, pet. And too be honest? Given that the REST of his honor gaurd were ACTUAL KNIGHTS? It was well beyond ridiculous at this point.

I was a club bouncer surrounded by elite special forces, in fancy little armor, that I could in NO way, have ever afforded on my own. Oh, and I wasn't really allowed to talk to them. So... WHY? Why, EXACTLY, was I here? There was no realistic way anything could get PASSED all those knights. I certainly wasn't PROTECTING the Crown Prince from SHIT.

And... and he hadn't attacked me, thank God. No touchy hands "service to the crown" shtick. Demanding things I couldn't refuse him. So THAT wasn't it...

Right?

My brain insisted it wasn't. That I should keep going over the list of possible reasons. Consider This or That. But... Something in my gut? Rang like a struck bell. Some non-physical part of me. That peice that twined, like gentle golden ivy, up through my body, too wrap around my eyes from the inside. Not enough, maybe, to get me into some high and mighty school or apprenticeship... but ENOUGH.

Because Magic was, is, and always has been? Divine. For all that HUMANS fail while using it. For every MORTAL error in it's implementing or understanding. It's a drop of the Divine. And? You can not LIE to the Gods. Hide, perhaps, but not LIE. Even then, you'd have to know what you're hiding FROM.

Kinda hard to hide from "using past life knowledge to deduce motivation" when that's not exactly a thing people can easily guess I HAVE. I get away with shit. Know things I really shouldn't.

Am.... am desperately trying to convince myself that the twinge I just felt? DOESN'T mean what I think it means. Even as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. As I desperately keep my expression placid and my stare straight into the middle distance. Ha ha.... oh god. No no no, oh god, no...!

Okay. OKAY! Lying to yourself will NOT keep you safe! We can do this! Nothing is happening. We just... just have to play it cool. NOT. PANIC.

He DID want us for sexual reasons.

But... more? More, maybe. I poke at the feeling. Try to frame my thoughts as absolute statement as see if I get a twinge again. To get a feel for the edges of whatever is happening. I can not protect myself, if I do not KNOW from what I protect AGAINST. Just sex? No. Was I a convenience choice? Also No. Revenge for something? A sudden certainty that I'd be DEAD if it was.

Oh, THATS not concerning at ALL!

Okay, keep prodding. Uuuuh... He has a thing for big muscle-y dudes with scars? Strong yes. Okay! Getting somewhere! Kinda thought he liked the petite, girly girl-ish typ-? Weirdly hollow No? Strong. Okay, what the FUCK. See THIS? THIS is why I wanted to be a fucking GAURD. No weird Protagonist of any adventures bullshit! Just a 9-5 with a paycheck at the end!

Uuuugh. Okay, soooo... likes? Strong dudes.... and I was the closest? No. Okay! Getting somewhere! Other strong dude... isn't available? Yes, but I am looking at it wrong. Great. At least I know what that feeling MEANS. Still wish it would just follow up with a "and btw, here's the answer~☆" but, fuck no! Why would life make anything EASY for a guy?

Fuck it! Random shit at the wall time. He's definitely in love with the Protagonist? No. Wait, really? Then why...? No. Stay on track. He's in definitely in love with ME? I wait, utterly expectant, for the twinge that will mark a negative. Half cursing myself for not checking with the Divine sooner. There had been no excuse. Distractions, yes, but no excuse.

It feels like getting sucker punched in the gut. HARD.

Takes everything in me, not to wheeze and double over. That... that wasn't a "yes". That was so FAR beyond "yes" I'm not sure there are spoken, written, or even conceptual WORDS for it. As absolute a CONCEPT of Yes as I have ever felt or probably ever will.

It... It did NOT feel good.

That was a WARNING.

Like the Gods them selves had taken me by the back of the neck, stepped close, to whisper in my ear as they drove their fist into my gut. "Pay Attention To This. RUN. You Need To RUN. There Are Monsters Here."

My eyes feel like they are burning. Like I haven't blinked in too long. Colors a bit too bright, details too sharp. The edges of reality cutting like splintering, glittering, glass. Everything has a GLOW to it. It's never done that before. Is... is this panic? Fight or Flight forcing me to draw deeper then I ever have before?

Or are the Gods paying attention? Displeased by what they see?

The room around us is... is so quiet. Beautiful. Rare flowers, teeming with life. Decorative and pampered little song birds, flitting from roost to roost. The rich scent of rare tea and expensive cologne, mixing with armor polish and the scent of green, living things. Sunlight makes his Highness' hair glow like it was made of it. Pale gold and filled with light.

If I could not SEE... his Highness would be beautiful.

But I can, and instead? He's terrifying.

I think I'm shaking. I don't understand. The room around me picturesque. Peaceful. Golden and filled with gently beautiful things. Light. It feels mocking. Paper thin. Like some cruel trap laid out over a pit of tar. As though, like in the cartoons of my old childhood, the INSTANT I become aware... acknowledge the reality of my ACTUAL surroundings?

The paper thin veneer will rip, no longer able to hold my weight, and I will be plunged into the horrors just beneath the lie.

How.... HOW did-?! I... I CAN'T-!

I put everything I am, into letting nothing show. E-Everything is FINE. Do not turn around. Please. Please, Gods, do not notice me or turn around! I breathe. Breathe. Can't do nothing now, but breathe. Panic is the mind killer. I remind myself of that. People do stupid things, when they act in panic. Think. THINK! Plan. THEN act! Breathe.

How? HOW did this happen? Trace it back. Find the source and we can... can maybe unhook the noose. Fix this? Escape? Run and keep running. Find the edge of the map and keep going. Where did it...? My brain, maybe my magic, finally takes pity. Connects the wires that have long been JUST missing each other. My mental list of Genre Troupes. My history with the Prince.

The blood drains from my face.

Oh fuck. Shit! Oh fuck, oh SHIT. Yandere. He was a YANDERE hidden route character! Wasn't he!? It's the only thing that makes sense with the-! No, no, he should still-! But, wait. No. No, no, NO. Oh god! I pulled a combo attack. "Childhood best friend" even though we WEREN'T. I was basically the closest in age to him! AND the only non-asshole! So that's "Different From The Others"!

Oh mother FUCKER, I pulled a "Only One Who Cares About Me" while SERVING him! His fucked up little squirrel brain would have taken that as "belonged to him" only to have me "taken away" when I was assigned elsewhere! Every time I kept someone from ABUSING him, I was making it WORSE. Every time they reassigned me, somebody was "trying to take me away"!

Oh sweet merciful FUCK, I got STABBED!

No WONDER he lost his absolute shit! He was unhinged to begin with! But instead of latching on to Protagonist and being HER problem, he latched on to ME! Why did no one warn me he was-!? Actually, I have no idea. Non-Just-Straight?! That! One of the THAT! Like FUCK I'm asking! He'd think it was an invitation, probably!

Because he NUCKING FUTS! Squirrels in the brain! Def Con OH SHIT!!

Yandere! Shit! I'm gonna di-!

"Something's upset you." The crown prince's surprisingly deep voice says, breaking the silence. I flinch. "I can feel your magic moving. An attack, perhaps? Or is someone saying something they should not."

He... oh, great, amazing! He can FEEL my magic. The magic INSIDE me body. That magic. Yeah, I don't feel stripped naked and on display AT ALL. Thanks! Definitely not invasive, your Highness! Still, I have to answer. Carefully. Very, VERY carefully.

He hums, disbelieving, as I reply. Lifting his pen and setting it aside. A graceful hand lifts. The mere flick of his fingers. "Move" it means. "Come where I can see you". Imperious and royal. Casual in it's assumed control of me. Why would he believe anything else, after all? He IS a prince. The CROWN Prince. Future KING.

He DOES own me.

I keep my breathing even. Keep my hands from visually shaking by tightening my grip on my spear. Even, professional, steps. Forward. Turn. Face your ruler. Your BETTER. No eye contact. Even breathing and eyes to the horizon. You are a statue. Just... just be a statue. No thoughts. You can do this.

It doesnt help. I can FEEL those pale, pale eyes. Striking and blue. Rare flower petals or glacier ice, they have been called. Compared to all sorts of haunting things. The Crown Prince is a beautiful man. That dangerous sort of pale beauty, that make for excellent portraits, of bright and holy things. That fools the eyes into thinking surely, SURELY the soul before your is Good. Trustworthy.

How could anything so beautiful be DANGEROUS?

Be corrupted and insane? A killer. A madman.

A MONSTER.

I stand at attention. Where he can observe me. His little toy soilder. Kept like a PET, I know realize, and try not to feel like I am being picked apart. Like a mouse in some tigers cage. The far wall sure is fascinating. Mmmmhmm. Very... very wall-like. Glass and artfully arranged flowering vines. Very pretty. What a wall! Ten stars for wall-ness.

The near silent shift of fine fabrics. A tap. Nail on high grade armor alloy. Just the smallest of sounds that nonetheless seems deafening. I barely stop myself from jerking back in alarm. Can't prevent my gaze from snapping downwards. To the arm outstretched, the elegant hand curled, the well manicured finger nail on the single outstretched finger... that has placed itself right over my heart. I freeze, utterly.

"You're getting nervous, aren't you? Growing uncertain. I've been so busy planning ahead, I've forgotten the here and now, haven't I?" He muses. That finger I should not be able to feel, that somehow feels like a knife trailed along my skin, glides slowly down. A meandering path down towards my belt. "I've neglected you."

The finger hooks into my belt. I am dragged forward a few stumbling steps with a deceptively strong tug. There is significant muscle, hidden by the almost waifish cut of his Highness daily wear. The eyes watching for my reaction are predatory. Intent. It was as though there should be fangs, in that pleasant, politician's grin...

"My steadfast knight, warrior of my heart, you've been so patient for me... so LOYAL." He rolled the word across his tongue as he said it, eyes locked on me with the sort of interest hunter keep, more a sigh then a word. Somehow.. Somehow the concept became OBSCENE, once in his hands. "So good for me. Even after all this time. Soon, Dearest. Soon we won't have to hide. I promise."

I had NEVER been a knight. Not even CLOSE to qualified for the training. Not even a single branch, magical or otherwise. Worse? I knew for a FACT? We had never, not ONCE, been lovers. No stolen glances. No fumbling youthful hands. No "hey, let's explore this closet!". Nothing. I? Had been studiously professional, if a decent human being.

This was ALL him.

What narrative had he painted in his head?

My heart pounds. My brain somehow both gibbering hysteria and unnatural calm. I... I think I may be disassociating. But all I can think, all I KNOW, is that I can NOT, Under ANY Circumstances, break the illusion. Do NOT argue. Why YES, deeply insane FUTURE KING, I DO love you so VERY much! Hey, don't mind me, just left the phone running. Gonna go for a walk. Buy some milk.

I watch, pleasant service industry smile feeling plastic on my face, as he leans forward. Rests his head against my armored chest, as though we were lovers. Just stealing a quite little moment alone. His hand slides along my belt, fingers hooked into it, the brush of his knuckles feeling far filthier then any groping hand. I can HEAR him breathing me in.

Obscene. How is he making such chaste contact so deeply obscene? He let's out a pleased hum and I want a shower.

"Kneel for me?" So soft I almost don't catch it, it takes a moment to register the words. This time, I can not stop myself from tensing. I know he feels it, but can not bring myself to care. "Shhhh shh shh, none of this, my Darling. To your knees before your King. Sweetheart, my dearest. You're going to be serving me there for the rest of our lives. It's okay. Your King won't rush you. He knows how shy you are. How nervous."

W-Well THAT wasn't treason! At ALL! Ha ha...! Oh god.

Hands at my waist. When did the other one-?! I'm shaking. Smile. D-dont set him off. This is fine. I... I shouldn't be ABLE to feel their heat, through my armor. Somehow I do. I want to back up. If I got to do this? At least let me-!

But, no. Pressure. Hands on my hips dragging me down, watching eyes expectant. In stops and starts... like a seizing automaton, my knees bend. Down I go... I guess.

Almost instantly, there are hands unbuckling my helmet. Sliding it off. Stealing it away. Fingers slide through my hair. Cup my cheek. A thumb running itself across my mouth. The prince seemed to loom. Hungry as he stared down at me.

"Beautiful. My loyal knight is so, SO beautiful. I am going to give us the world. Take what is ours. No one will EVER hurt us again, Dearest. I will keep you forever. Dress you in armor and roses. Mine and mine alone."

There was madness in his eyes. Obsession. Is...is that what that color meant? That burning, terrible blood? It's too late. Oh god, it's too late for that to help me. I smile. Do not argue. Fear and fear and fear. I have to get out. On my knees, it is a terrible view of what's to come, should I fail. The Games's utterly fucked. I no longer care.

I have to get out.

The King, after all, has gotten sick lately.

[insufferablemod]

thinking about john n davesprite n dave what happens when he finds out its not just a bird dave thing but a dave thing..... the idea hes built up of The Real Dave comes crashing down

like things were def made worse by being stuck together for 3 years with noone else n all of the extra issues davesprite has On top of all the normal dave bs but like, fuuuckkkkkkk

[fullscoreshenanigans]

(The Promised Neverland Art Book World)

Ah yes, one of my favorite genres of baby full score trio pictures: Isabella being openly affectionate toward Emma and Norman in front of Ray while being hands off with him.

(Chapter 2 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 165 | Chapter 170 | Chapter 177)

[aru-art]

[bloomingdarkgarden]

WIP THURSDAY SNIPPET || WBITD

Or, what happens when someone tries to harm Elain on a battlefield and Azriel happens to witness it. TW gore / violence.

Azriel swings first and thinks second.

The male’s jaw cracks and it’s a beautiful sound.

He yanks the Monteserite filth by the neck of his armor to a nearby boulder at the river’s edge.

The dagger Elain plunged into the scum's back is still protruding. He tears it from its bloody grave, twisting it crudely on the way out.

The male arches in agony.

Azriel pins him against the rock, looks him dead in the eye, and then rams the dagger through his eye socket.

The filth screams like a dying pig and Azriel revels in silent delight.

He pivots the soldier to face the boulder properly and then slams his head against the granite stone. Driving the blade fully through.

Blood splatters in a divine symphony.

Elain’s lovely melody cuts through it all, murmuring something akin to “oh dear-” somewhere far off.

The waterlogged rawness of her vocal chords fuels his fury to new levels.

Gore sprays as Azriel bashes the soldier’s head once more against the granite.

Something reasonable, like stopping, occurs to him- and is instantly fleeting. He has an outlet for his fury now and no intention of leashing it.