life's blood

[ lmfao did they really. ]

While I don’t know the whole story, heres what i know and what i’m assuming. Someone asked them to draw something sexual. They drew sal raping wada. They delete it later. They post a single post saying ” I’m so sorry. “

"hey, do you feel like we’re being talked about?"

"do you, sabitsuki?"

She does recognize ― in this moment would it be found appropriate to speak of something, yet uncertain she is so of what she would communicate with.

          An atmosphere of cold moisture and monotony surrounded him.           Dark. Dull. An atmosphere reflective of his preference. Gold-clad           heels cast ripples in shallow puddles beneath his weight. He did           not care to look down at his own distortion. He cared not to explore           this world, only to revel in its solitude. To care, to grow curious; they           were all so disgustingly organic.

          The eldest of his kind… cared little to revel in organic emotions such           as curiosity.

          Ah. Speak of the devil. 

          The inorganic turns, the addressee to this… insignificant-looking woman.

          As of now, he held no motive to strike first; there’s no need to waste time           on a young girl. ❝ Who are you calling a joke? ❞ A joke. Right. He’s heard           all of that before. Still, he would… indirectly heed her words.

Her arm raises downward into its default, and the flames of anger lick into the emotions of distrust and there is simply pure hatred to be found here.

    it all comes back

                               to

{ ❊ } 10ʏʀ ʀᴘɪɴɢ ᴇxᴘ; 4ʏʀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʀᴘɪɴɢ ᴇxᴘ

{ ❊ } ᴍᴜʟᴛɪғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ

{ ❊ } ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ

{ ❊ } sᴄʀɪᴘᴛ/ɴᴏᴠᴇʟʟᴀ OK

{ ❊ } ᴏᴄ sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ

                 { ✘♟✘ }

Smile of false origin and guilty tendency bestows a path upon her visage. She will retract her gaze and shroud it in black, thick layer of darkened keratin shielding glance from further harm of the other who the dream places forwards. Flickers of melancholy still do taint existence, however, and she pulls at fragile fabric of expensive uniform.

                                                                                         Really, it was becoming a tic.

 ❝ I should…though… ❞

                                                                                         Phrase is mumbled, hesitant, as if she’s                                                                                          distressed by the thought of the girl                                                                                          hearing. Fear of anger, or hurt, perhaps?                                                                                          Incorrect in whole, for the girl fears for                                                                                          Sabitsuki, rather than herself. Girl is of                                                                                          struggles, correct? What things were                                                                                          'hard' for her, what things were of such                                                                                          feeling to cause a reaction such                                                                                          as that one?

❝ What…is hard…for you? ❞

And here she is to give fact to, even if not vocalized (never to be; awful) ― with not the entirety of the sickness within her but still a considerable measure of so ― does she wish she could stare upon those fingers to be playing with inanimate existence now. At the aforementioned now, however, Sabitsuki has not yet looked away sans a minor glance (maybe coming to a full sum of two) to the side, not that far from their positions, either.

It and she both can fuck everything up, she can assure ― as illustrated with their interactions within the past ten minutes.