I hope this is okay! Your prompt stirred a scene in my head and I really had to do something with it even though I have not a goddamn clue what even is this sweet lord is this even your prompt anymore im sorry
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Tick, tock.
Balls of bright, pristine yarn sit at her side; she shifts her posture straight, poised, her busy fingers keeping the knitting needles at a steady pace.
Tick, tock.
The troll is a willow with a victim entangled within her branches.
Tick, tock.
The colours of the scarf knit together without sense and without purpose, an equation of nonsense shades and passive aggressiveness serving as mix-n-match variables.
Tick, tock.
The corpse thumps as it splashes in a pool of its own blood, a ragdoll of tangled limbs and lifeless eyes in a puddle quickly spreading across the living room floor.
Tick, tock.
Knit one, purl two.
Tick, tock.
The stick of colour drags across Kanaya’s lips like a masterstroke, the final touch to a masterpiece, green elegance at the forefront of luminescent white skin dripping in rivulets of purple. The sight of a body dead by Kanaya’s hand is thoroughly unfamiliar to Rose and the scene sends shivers trickling down her spine, though she hides it well. Her gaze is patiently unaffected.
I strongly suggest a more effectual method of taxidermy before adding the hunt to the furnishings, my dear.
Kanaya’s fangs pull against her bottom lip. Her tone is steady.
I Seem To Have Transgressed Boundaries Tonight
There’s barely a waver in her voice when she half-turns and says a very dry “Sorry” to the pair of dead ears on the ground.
These relapsesare unbecoming of you.
I Blame My Condition
That Is A Thing I Can Do That Now
You have been aware of your own strength and limitations for a long time. If I didn’t know any better, I would think these amount to more than just your average accident.
A roll of the eyes. A sneer.
Kanaya straddles Rose’s waist and sinks into her lap, all willow and bone, all grace and stealth and silence. Purple dampens along Rose’s fingertips as she pulls on the soaked, well-tailored fabric covering Kanaya’s sides. Purple smudges she pulls, dragging their bodies closer together until the rise and fall of their chests meet and they’re kissing the blood away. Purple highlights platinum blonde hair that has a hand run throught it. Purple darkens balls of bright, pristine yarn.
He deserved it, she says against her lips, expression unfaltering.
I know, she replies, as it’s always the purplebloods who do.
Contentment and exhaustion breathe life into Kanaya’s sigh as she kisses and stains a girl who has never been clean.
FILL: TEAM JOHN <3 KARKAT
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Tick, tock.
Balls of bright, pristine yarn sit at her side; she shifts her posture straight, poised, her busy fingers keeping the knitting needles at a steady pace.
Tick, tock.
The troll is a willow with a victim entangled within her branches.
Tick, tock.
The colours of the scarf knit together without sense and without purpose, an equation of nonsense shades and passive aggressiveness serving as mix-n-match variables.
Tick, tock.
The corpse thumps as it splashes in a pool of its own blood, a ragdoll of tangled limbs and lifeless eyes in a puddle quickly spreading across the living room floor.
Tick, tock.
Knit one, purl two.
Tick, tock.
The stick of colour drags across Kanaya’s lips like a masterstroke, the final touch to a masterpiece, green elegance at the forefront of luminescent white skin dripping in rivulets of purple. The sight of a body dead by Kanaya’s hand is thoroughly unfamiliar to Rose and the scene sends shivers trickling down her spine, though she hides it well. Her gaze is patiently unaffected.
I strongly suggest a more effectual method of taxidermy before adding the hunt to the furnishings, my dear.
Kanaya’s fangs pull against her bottom lip. Her tone is steady.
I Seem To Have Transgressed Boundaries Tonight
There’s barely a waver in her voice when she half-turns and says a very dry “Sorry” to the pair of dead ears on the ground.
These relapsesare unbecoming of you.
I Blame My Condition
That Is A Thing I Can Do That Now
You have been aware of your own strength and limitations for a long time. If I didn’t know any better, I would think these amount to more than just your average accident.
A roll of the eyes. A sneer.
Kanaya straddles Rose’s waist and sinks into her lap, all willow and bone, all grace and stealth and silence. Purple dampens along Rose’s fingertips as she pulls on the soaked, well-tailored fabric covering Kanaya’s sides. Purple smudges she pulls, dragging their bodies closer together until the rise and fall of their chests meet and they’re kissing the blood away. Purple highlights platinum blonde hair that has a hand run throught it. Purple darkens balls of bright, pristine yarn.
He deserved it, she says against her lips, expression unfaltering.
I know, she replies, as it’s always the purplebloods who do.
Contentment and exhaustion breathe life into Kanaya’s sigh as she kisses and stains a girl who has never been clean.