#fleurladari

[starchanged]

"My favorite people are back!!"

[missingstarter]

@fleurladari

◘ so like y ou know .

Silver gasps, instinctively attempting to escape that grip. He takes half a step back before freezing on the spot, his heart beating a little too hard as the taller man's fingers press against his cheek, not to hurt ( for now? ), but still tight enough to stop him from trying to back away.

He breathes, sure, but way too fast - fast enough to feel a little dizzy and realize that he needs to calm himself down. Relax his shoulders. Lower the rhythm of his heart. Avoid to look like a cornered Rattata. It's okay. It's okay. Don't panic.

There's no need to panic. Right?

Gulping, the younger frowns ever so slightly, sealing his lips as he forces himself to keep eye contact. This is what he wants. He'll give him exactly that.

"...yes?"

[abyssonance]

Lysandre wasn't a one off.

Now they have to watch ambitious red heads too.

[moonkssd]

the vibes between the fairy girl and the lion man

aka god daughter and god father vibes

[chounaifu]

Kiss Roulette @fleurladari

41. A kiss out of spite

He thinks he's disgusting.

He thinks of him as a lab subject that had been plucked from the test tube and left to run wild without supervision.

He's exactly the type of creature that does not fit into the ideal world that Lysandre had envisioned: a walking disease tearing his teeth into organic matter, leaving it corrupted, to rot and become abandonware. That was far from perfection.

He did not want Proton's face in his crafted future, because he is not beautiful.

Beautiful is subjective, and beautiful was boring.

Funny it is, that Lysandre still finds salvageable worth in such a fantastic freak. There was something useful stowed away in Proton's frontal lobe, and just the right tools would be able to pry it out, perhaps. But that requires getting close to the loathsome beast-- and here he is, looming against the wall like a snake that had slithered into the false Eden that Lysandre wanted to make for himself and his Chosen.

It happens quickly. The serpent slips past a surgical steel table, autopsy tools knocked onto the floor when a lab tech attempts to wrangle Proton. How he had gotten into Lysandre Labs to begin with was a mystery, but he seemed intent on infiltration. And he had failed to retrieve whatever he was looking for, but he wasn't going to leave without putting his hand in the Pyroar's mouth.

Mold and mildew will find it's way in even the most pristine buildings. Rot is king, after all.

His boots connect with the surface of the table, a wild expression in those distorted eyes as he stares down the self-proclaimed hand of judgment. And Proton's voice crackles as he speaks in an unhinged tone:

" 𝙷𝙴-𝙻𝙻𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴! 𝙰 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙶𝙸𝙵𝚃! "

He invades Lysandre's personal space, and out of spite, presses his lips to his, the sensation of static and live wire electricity lingering and crackling on Lysandre's lips as he pulls away.

Enjoy his filthy, disgusting mouth against your own, no amount of elbow grease and extremist ideas will erase that unpleasant occurance from existence.

Proton steps back, the space around him distorting as he sinks back into the rift between reality and corruption, and vanishes.

[mnstcrbnll]

swipes left

[tumblestones]

@fleurladari said: " accidents are privy to happen, unfortunately. best to minimize as best as possible. "

"I don't disagree, of course, but there are a multitude of subtle ways to keep track of a wayward wooloo."

[gnzma]

@fleurladari

🥺🙍‍♀️ " non, don't leave so fast, i have some questions. "

🙍‍♀️. shoulders

🥺. to stop them from leaving

Hm. Annoying. Honestly the presence of (eugh) French People was already frustrating on it's own, especially when they go around in a goddamn Lorax cosplay, but this one... just had a strange vibe.

The kind of vibe that made him understand that this wasn't some kind of stupid tourist to mess with. Adios, y'know? This guy goes one way, he goes the other--

--ooooorrrrrr so he thought. Being suddenly thouched immediately activates his fight or-- ...well. Just fight instinct. A fist is already raised by the time the other speaks, and after that he barely holds himself from ripping off that shitt beard of his.

"Do I look like a info point, old man? Buzz off."