I Get That Tbh So Let Me Give You This:

h. kaoru — the beach

warnings: me being pretentious, mild references to suicide (via drowning)

“Tell me—if I told you that I loved you, what would you say?”

When he speaks, it’s slowly, hesitantly. It’s as though he’s carefully thinking through everything before it leaves his lips. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think his words over. What brought this on, you wonder.

Kaoru braces his forearms against the rail of the balcony, leaning forwards as though he might tip over the edge and let himself fall. Right into the crashing waves below, a suffocating hug. You blink and there he is, his body torn to pieces by the cutting rocks, his blood webbing across the surface of the ocean. You blink and there he is, the salty sea breeze tousling his hair and brushing against his cheeks in a loving caress.

You find yourself jealous.

To be able to touch him so tenderly… You can, if you want to. You just have to reach out. There is nothing stopping you except your fear of interpreting everything—his smiles, his touches, his words—wrong.

You’ve never thought yourself a coward before, but Kaoru is something precious to you and to lose him would…well, maybe not destroy you. You’re not so naïve that you think a broken heart is the same thing as the end of the world.

Still, it would hurt all the same.

He watches you with furrowed brows as you force your wandering thoughts back into some semblance of order, probably trying to glean what information he can from the emotions that show on your face. You’ve always been an open book, or so he says. Things change, yes, but there are some universal constants and he is one of them. He’s always been like this, you reminisce fondly in the safety of your own mind. Prone to thinking, thinking, thinking—sometimes a little too much; don’t chase all those rabbits, Kaoru. You’ll get lost in the wonderland of your own head.

You giggle then, eyes bright; is this a confession?

Maybe, he replies, face blank, not betraying anything. Maybe.

Oh. You mouth the words, surprised despite yourself.

Then he smiles, a little dreamily. He looks wistful when he stares at you, like you can’t possibly be real. There’s a little bit of that in his eyes right now. It settles amongst the glints of gold in his sweet-grey eyes: here is a boy destined to be lonely, or so he thinks.

Here is a boy you love, lonely no more.

Your fingers twitch at your sides. In your chest, your heart gives a squeeze, aching with want. To reach out, to draw him close. Not yet, though. Not yet.

“Well,” You begin, testing the words on your tongue. “You’ll have to be a little clearer. Because if this is a hypothetical situation, as you say it is… If you’d confessed to me, hypothetically,” The emphasis you place on the word makes it clear you don’t believe that is truly the case. “I would’ve say yes.”

Now it’s his turn to startle, eyes suspiciously bright. He smiles once more, just as wistful, then turns his head to face the ocean once more. A single tear trickles down his cheek, and you step forwards to brush it away. “Crybaby,” You tease, fond as ever. Kaoru laughs wetly.

“Cut me some slack. The person I love told me they love me back. I’m allowed to get a little emotional.”

“Mm,” You hum, tracing the lines of his face with your thumbs. He leans into your hold, like a cat would. His eyeslids flutter shut, he watches you through his feathering lashes. The two of you stand there, silently, as the sun goes down.

No longer lonely, no longer breathless.

© tokusaatsus 2023

wc. 615 words

reze txt. when i tell you he is always on my mind, i mean it. sorry for being pretentious about how much i love him ♡ partly inspired by the beach by the nbhd

taglist. (fill out the form or send an ask to be added!) @prpne​ @gabirii​ @kazemiya​ @engurishu​ @kkomaism​ @asbestieos​ @mikctp​ @lilikags​ @lolthia​ @unwantedsleep @hasumilvr​ @head-full-of-empty​ @pr3tty-jennie​ @narumika​ @birthday-of-music

thank you for the tag !

looks // personality // style // humour // mindset // vibes

serval // atsushi nakajima // nana komatsu “hachi” // cater diamond // chloe collins // shirahoshi

- tagging whoever else wants to do this !

[ 💌 ]- tag game! how your friends describe you using fictional characters, or how you would describe yourself! <3

🍓include: looks, personality, style, humour, mindset + vibes // link to the template if you need it for reference

my best friend always says that I'm literally just yaomomo, i don't see it but i love her so i'll gladly take it :D (I also used to get compared to March a lot, idk)

tagging: @eroxotckv, @seafumes, @twilightclouds, @luvuomi, @princess-peachys, @agaygothicmushroom, @chuusheartattck, @kunimix, @state-of-grac3 + anyone else who wants to join!

A humble streetwear moment :3

*Swaps your captains*

I re-drew this a little better.

late to the "leona kingscholar has a driving license⁉️" train but i do think that he goes on road trips with you as often as he can, especially if you're visiting him in the sunset savanna. the palace is stifling and teeming with haughty nobles who see him as nothing but the scruffy second choice to his golden brother, and he'd rather not subject you to his own misery and suffering in that place. he'd rather take you to see the beauty of the kingdom that could have been his, as bitter as it is, and he'll never say this aloud, but there's a certain domesticity to be found with seeing you on the front seat of his jeep, chattering excitedly about the next place you want to check out as you flip through the little map that's nothing compared to leona's knowledge of all the hideaways and secret spots around the capital but he lets you keep to entertain yourself. wind in your hair, your feet up on the dash, and if you find that he doesn't pull his hand away from yours when he first tugs you back, chiding "don't lean so far out, you're gonna lose your head", then don't say anything about it unless you want a grumpy lion grumbling at you (you'll do it anyway, and leona will be no less fonder of you)

Argenti has really been on the brain as of late…I miss my wife….how do we feel about vampire agrenti//getsranover

love bites! — argenti

summary. argenti would do anything for you, even if that anything went against his own moral code.

notes. i think ANON YOU COOKED. YOUUUU COOKED. YOUUUUUUUU COOKED.

warnings. ehhhh… i’ll give it a 16+, suggestive content, as per usual you’re a freak, but argenti is also a freak so it’s okay, as the ask suggests argenti is a vampire, blood, biting, ummm, yk. vampire stuff. but it’s romantic i think.

You feel the couch dip next to you with added weight, and Argenti rests his head in the crook of your neck.

He has barely just gotten comfortable on the couch when you decide to be a thorn in his side. You grin wryly down at him. “Wanna try it?”

Argenti flutters his lashes in confusion.

You huff. “There’s a reason I wore a low cut shirt, dude.” You gesture towards your neckline.

“Oh!” Suddenly, he looks guilty. “As much as I appreciate your offer, I’m afraid I must decline.” He shakes his head and offers you a kind smile of his own. “I have staved off blood for years. I cannot start now. It would be… very unbecoming of me.”

“But, I want you to,” you try lightly. “And it’s your birthday.”

Birthday. As if his birthdays meant anything anymore. Argenti has had hundreds by now. Still, you always manage to make him feel like the most important man in the universe.

He laughs. “My birthday is two months away.”

“Early present,” you conclude firmly.

Then, you lean forward and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His skin has been bloodless since the day you met him, but there’s something so beautiful about it’s near translucency. It’s iridescently white and brilliant, and it’s like pearl silk when his hair spills over his shoulders.

Speaking of which, his hair smells of cherry and coconut.

Hmm, hmm. He’s used your shampoo—not that you mind. Not at all. He uses it because it is something to remember you by when he leaves for extended voyages. And it’s cute.

“C’mon.” It comes out as a childish droning low whine as you hit his shoulders gently. “I see the way you look at me when I get hurt. It'll be good for you.”

Argenti appears sheepish, though he indulges in your hand that cards over his scalp. His fangs poke from behind his bottom lip.

He glances away for a moment. His eyes have traced down to your neck, and he almost abandons his willpower to taste your skin.

“Just a teensy weensy bit.” You pinch your fingers together for good measure.

“It will not be ‘teensy weensy,’” Argenti explains softly. Although his voice falters for a moment, his hands do not tremble. “I will not be able to stop myself. You have always been tempting.”

“Aww.” You bop him on the shoulder. “You’re worried about me?”

“Well, of course. I do love you.”

Your heart falters. You’re sure he can hear how your blood stutters in your veins. He’s said it those words again—how many times? Almost everyday—and it still manages to fluster you.

How you managed to score this dude was beyond you. Maybe the ‘tempting’ part of you was the friends we made along the way.

You giggle like he’s smacked you over the head with his giant spear and caused a concussion. That’s what it feels like, at least. He makes you feel dizzy, but in a good way, like you’re being spun around and around by a lover when you return home after a long day.

Your fingers are still pinched together. “Just a little bit.”

You see him swallow.

He fidgets with his fingers for a moment.

He’s staring at your jugular, and though he appears apprehensive, there’s something clouding over his gaze.

He can’t say no to you. It goes against all of his moral principles.

“If it will make you happy.” Just a taste. He’s set in his ways, now. He’ll prick your neck, allow your blood to wash over his tongue, and then he’ll pull away.

And he really does love to make you happy.

“Hell yeah, it will.” You press your chest to his. “All yours.”

Oh, goodness. He swallows harder, and his hands that are usually confident with how they move, are suddenly hesitant now that they rest on the sides of your face. His hands are free of his gloves, and though his skin isn’t warm, you enjoy the callouses and marks that rub against your flesh.

Dutifully, you push his hair behind his ears.

You’re jealous of how lovely he is.

“Are you certain this is–”

“Yep.”

His brows knit together. “But this–”

“Argenti.”

He smiles apologetically. “I just want to make sure this is something you want, and not something you are doing for my sake.”

You sigh.

Then, you press your lips to his. You don’t let the taste of him distract you, however—and you know that’s secretly what he’s plotting by how his eyes flutter shut.

Argenti appears disappointed when you pull away.

“I want you to do this.”

Uh oh. You’re in for it now. You know that look.

He wants to. He does. He’s wanted to for a while now. But it is selfish of him to drink the blood from your wounds, so he instead ignores the desire.

Now, he can’t ignore it any longer.

His lips press to your cheek first. Then he moves to your jawline, painstakingly slow, but still considerate with how he dotes upon you. Maybe he’s trying to coax you from making the worst decision of your life. Wouldn’t be the first time.

You hum, pleased.

His nose is cold when he buries his face into the side of your neck where the throbbing arteries lie beneath thin supple skin.

And you smell delicious. He smells every throb of your veins as your heart pumps in your chest; that metallic earthy smell, like soil after the rain, and dew on rose petals.

Suddenly, you grow nervous.

He notices.

He tries to reel back, but you lock a hand behind his head.

Still, he tries, “you’re uncomfortable. I won’t–”

You’re excited. Your legs are jittery. The adrenaline rush is exhilarating, and sugar flows through your veins like hot ash.

Your skin feels set alight. You’re burning to the touch.

The scent of you is too much. He pinches his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to control himself.

“Bite me.” You feel his lips bump against your neck. “C’mon.” He lets out a stuttered gasp against your skin. “Do it.”

His will is not strong enough.

He wets his lips and they then part to allow sharpened canines to dot along the skin above your veins. He knows each and every path beneath your flesh. He knows where danger lies. He understands your fragility, for he was once the same.

He steers clear of the artery, as enticing as it is. It’s wrong; and he could very well hurt you beyond repair.

Your heart stutters when his fangs slice through your skin.

And it hurts. Of course it hurts, and Argenti knows as such. His other hand that is not trying to hold you still rubs along the other side of your throat soothingly. The pinpricks of his teeth are slow and deliberate. Perhaps it would hurt less if he was quick, but the sharpness stirs hot on your flesh anyway.

You try not to voice your anguish. Instead, your fingers curl firmly into his hair.

He lingers with his teeth lodged into your vein.

It’s uncomfortable, especially when you feel something hot and wet trickle from the puncture wounds and slip over his cold teeth, but you’ve never felt so alive.

His teeth pull away with a wet pop and you shiver.

You’re bleeding, rightfully so. It’s not a major wound—he’d never. You knew he’d never—but with how sticky the holes were growing, you would be convinced otherwise.

Gingerly, you felt a warm tongue swipe over the wound.

That hurt, too. You hiss then, and you feel Argenti wince against your skin.

The damage is done.

“I’m fine.” And you are. You’re practically jumping out of your skin. “Keep going.”

After a pause, his tongue cards once again over the fresh blood spilling from the wound. It doesn’t help the fire in your veins when he slots his lips over the punctured skin and begins to suck. The noises are alarming at best, and you can hear him swallowing.

It hurts.

But it’s good.

You stiffen in his hold.

Argenti stops for a moment to pepper sticky kisses over your wound. You’re sure it’s stained in the shape of his lips. Stupidly, you giggle at the idea.

He continues to indulge and he’s slow. Maybe he’s hesitant, or maybe he’s savouring you. You’re not sure.

When you’re sure he’s finished, Argenti’s bloodied teeth scrape lower along your neck until his fangs sink into the junction of your throat and your shoulder. Somehow, it hurts more.

More bloodied kisses that make your skin stiffen. His tongue draws over your flesh again.

Both the wounds are still bleeding when he decides to add another to your body.

This one hurts even more. You can tell because his teeth don’t sink in cleanly. The other side of your throat has that arterial vein you know he wants to get to. You also know he wouldn’t ever. He’s inching dangerously close to it, though.

He’s sucking and sucking and you smell copper in the air and you’re stomach is churning and your neck is covered in blood.

Your hands slacken from around his head.

The fourth puncture wound comes over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter for a moment.

He’s not stopping.

In fact, he hasn’t even opened his eyes to check on you. He’s way too absorbed in your taste to notice your slackening grip on his shoulders.

His tongue grazes your shoulder.

“Argenti.”

He doesn’t even hear you. You move your hands to push him away, but your arms tremble. You’re growing weaker with every second.

Oh, God. This was a bad idea. You’re good at making those.

You hit his shoulders weakly.

“Argenti.” It comes out strangled and weak.

His teeth pop out of a new wound. He hums.

You’re already dizzy. Weakly, your arms wrap around him and grip loosely onto his clothes.

As sexy as this is, and because you feel like the main character in some cheesy vampire story, the stupid primal urges in your brain to survive shut down the idea of laying there, taking it, and letting him ruin your neck until you fall unconscious.

Argenti finally understands just how strong you smell and is horrified at what he’s done when his eyes finally refocus on you.

He lays you down properly on the couch and rushes to get a first aid kit.

When he comes back, he’s mumbling strings of apologies. He looks forlorn, because he’s betrayed himself, and you.

You don’t think it’s appropriate to comment on how the blood around his mouth is almost enough to make you jump on him. Only issue is you’re not sure your bones can support your weight at the moment.

The alcohol stings as he tends to the punctures, but not as much as his teeth did.

You sigh, but it’s happy.

Argenti looks at you. Guilt is smeared over his face like a thick paste.

“You look just as beautiful as the day I met you,” you murmur to him. Because that day had been a wild day. Not only did a giant man with flaming red hair stop to offer his sincerest compliments on how radiant you were—dressed in flip flops and pyjama pants because you were simply hosing your front lawn—with two squirrels at his feet and five birds resting on his shoulders.

If Argenti could blush, you figure he’d be bright red by now.

Instead, he lets out a shaky laugh. “You flatter me so. I know nothing more enchanting than you.”

The wounds have stopped bleeding now, and he makes sure to clean each one thoroughly. He expresses no concerns about a stitch job. You’re relieved at that one.

Weakly, an arm raises to push his hair behind his ears again.

That alone takes all of the strength out of you.

“You okay?” you ask him.

He looks confused at your question. “Fret not, I have had my fill. It is you who I’m worried about.”

“I feel alive.” It’s partly true. As woozy as you feel, it’s like warm sugar still lingers in your veins. “That was great. I bet you enjoyed it.”

Argenti’s grin turns crooked. “Very much so. Perhaps too much. I’ve hurt you.” His fingers rub over the tender skin surrounding the puncture wounds. “But, you are as sweet as I thought you’d be.”

“I’m so in love with you, dude.” Very appropriate thing to say. Maybe it’s the blood loss. Amazing pet name, too.

Still, Argenti flusters. He clears his throat for a moment and his fingers still around your neck. “Words cannot convey how often I think of you, or better yet how often I long to hold you.”

He behaves as if this is his first confession of many to come.

Oh. Your heart is racing in your chest.

Arms much too tired to move, you instead pucker your lips obnoxiously.

Argenti eagerly leans down to kiss you again. His lips are still bloody, and the scent and taste of metal makes your stomach twist for a moment, but it’s him. It’s him and how gentle he always is—and how can you still be so gentle when you’re enraptured in cutting holes into your partner’s neck? Beats you.

“Still so sweet,” he whispers against your lips. “Is all of you this sweet?”

You kiss his cheek. “Wanna find out?” You’re happy to play pillow princess for an hour.

Argenti smiles at that, but it’s cheeky. His eyes crinkle with mischief as he moves to your lips again.

[slaps roof of ASL] I can put so many different faces on these bad boys.

I fucking love drawing these whores in different situations

We finally reached you

Happy 5th Anniversary Twisted Wonderland!! Thank you for an incredible 5 years!

"Thank you for loving someone like me who is good for nothing."

hi!! congrats on 300 followers <3 i’ve just recently discovered your blog through your event, your writing is so charming and sweet!! i was wondering if i could participate as well and request ritsu with f, g, and k? thank you so much and congrats again :-)

SAKUMA RITSU + F, G, K

warnings: mentions of suggestive stuff

f = flirt (how do they flirt? are they smooth or awkward?)

Ritsu’s style of flirting is so smooth, that it manages to catch you off-guard every time. The things that come out of his mouth are so incredibly flustering, sometimes they render you unable to speak. All he has to do is call out to you to reduce you to a puddle on the floor. He’s a master of his trade, calling you names that make you melt, taking any excuse to put his hands on you, not-so-platonically pressing his lips to your cheek… His touches, his words, his smiles, all of it? Means something. He’s not called Knights’ strategist for nothing. Ritsu doesn’t do anything without it having a part in his overarching plan–that being, to win your affection and your heart.

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

All things considered, Ritsu switches between both sides of the spectrum at will–usually without prior warning. One day he might rest his head in your lap and snuggle into you as you pet his hair, and the next he’s shoving you against the wall and kissing the air from your lungs. All Ritsu wants is to love you and be loved by you, so he can’t help it if he gets a little…overenthusiastic sometimes. Still, at the end of the day, Ritsu’s about the softest thing you could ask for. His sleepy smile, his droopy eyes, his fluffy hair…all this gives him the appearance of an oversized cat and honestly? That descriptor isn’t too far off the mark. Because the way he looks at you is nothing short of gentle.

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

Ritsu’s kisses are like a dance. Filled to the brim with teasing steps, his lips sliding against yours in a smooth rhythm as he giggles into your mouth. He loves to kiss you any place he can reach, brushes of lips over skin that feel like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings… Ritsu can be a little jealous, sometimes leaving little bruises and love bites. Well, it’s not like it’s entirely his fault… He just loves you so much that he needs everyone to know that you’re taken. When it comes to the other way around, Ritsu does not care at all, as long as he gets to bask in your affection. The love you have for him, transmitted in the form of kisses, is something he craves.

notes!

WC: 422 words

reze txt hiiii~ ty ty !! fhsdkfkj ur gonna make me blush :3 tysm for the compliment aswell <3 but here is ur ritchan !! ty again <3 and enjoy