#AND YOU RIP MY RIBCAGE OPEN AND DEVOUR WHATS TRULY YOURS!!!

[carfuckerlynch]

i want to talk about that unwanted animal. can we talk about that unwanted animal now? i’ve been dying to talk about that unwanted animal

[unsat-and-strange]

and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours

well! this is probably about as finished as it's going to get. I am. so normal about that unwanted animal. I tend towards platonic jarthur myself but I was physically incapable of NOT drawing them to that line in the song. id and closeups under the cut <3

image id: a digital drawing of John doe and Arthur lester from malevolent. Arthur stands facing towards the viewer, his face is tilted up and to his right, towards John. the hand that John inhabits claws at his chest and his right hand rests by his side. John is behind Arthur and slightly to his right, his white mask is turned towards Arthur's face. his left shoulder and arm are hidden from view by arthurs body, his right arm reaches down towards Arthur's hand. Arthur is a slim white man with greying brown hair, wearing a white shirt and brown pants with a belt. his eyes are closed with a tired or longing expression on his face. his left pinky finger is solid black with brown roots coming from it across his hand. the scar on his neck is highlighted gold, as well as his eyes and some of the folds of his clothes and the edges of his silhouette. John is a taller figure, all black shadows with a blank white mask with black eye holes. darker shadows show the shape of his arm and body and he has long hair the same color as him that morphs into the shadows overtaking the bottom half of the drawing. a few scribbles of gold highlight his hair and the shape of his arm, neck, and body. the background is a dark blueish gray with gold scribbles forming aurora-like formations in the sky. end image id.

also a second version I think I like better, it reminds me of da Vinci's sketches a bit

image id: a sketchier version of the same drawing. Arthur looks the same, but the background is off-white with the same gold scribbles. John is translucent gray against the background and the lighter color makes visible some geometric scribbles in johns hair towards the corners of the drawing. end image id.

[fragilestorm]

Aelinor Baratheon + Aegon Targaryen

Tag list: @arrthurpendragon @eddysocs @stanshollaand @bravelittleflower @nikosasaki @hiddenqveendom @foxesandmagic @waterloou

[kaleidemaran]

you, you touch, my skin peels off like paint

[kaminarikokyu]

stretches. taggies

[mudstoneabyss]

music will make you have art idea for Kevin homoerotically gutting and/or cannibalizing a man

[rookisaknight]

I keep trying to screencap lyrics from That Unwanted Animal for Vaas and Citra but the issue is they all fucking work

[soup-me-beloved]

That unwanted animal my beloved

[yourtamaki]

rip my ribcage open (devour what’s truly yours)

zoro x f!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: tummy-pusher zoro, squirting, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, prone bone, chokehold, slight breath play, creampie, violent imagery, religious imagery, bit of aftercare.

zoro thinks you might be trying to say his name.

he’s knelt between your legs, sitting back on his haunches and rocking his hips just enough to fuck you with the fat tip of his cock. there’s a rhythm to the unsteady rise and fall of your chest. short inhale, long exhale, the same way you always sigh his name when he’s reduced you to this.

tears dotting your lashes, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, hips bucking mindlessly trying to get him to slip in deeper.

fuck, you’re hungry for it.

zoro is not a man of many indulgences. he doesn’t allow himself to be. having too many vices can only lead to a weak mind and an even weaker will. he eats but he does not savour, he sleeps but he does not dream.

but he’d be a shit swordsman if he didn’t understand the balance in all things. denying himself all of life’s comforts would make for a rigid spirit, brittle and easily broken. so he’ll sip on some sake and enjoy its fire in his belly, he’ll nap on sunny’s deck so when he wakes, it’s to the sight of his crew set to the backdrop of the setting sun. and when the sun dips below the horizon, there’s nothing to stop him from finding you in the dark and pulling you into a hungry kiss.

that balance is what makes nights like these all the better. knowing that having you like this, spread open and vulnerable, is good for him. that you’re making him a better man, a stronger man, just by letting him take you apart and make a mess out of you. there’s no need to resist the temptation now of bending low to press his lips to your trembling ones in a slow, ravenous kiss.

you taste like need and the sweetest of sins and he licks at the roof of your mouth, knowing he’s damned himself long ago to crave you for as long as he lives.

"if you want something, you have to ask,” he says, pulling back and idly groping at your tits, pinching your nipple when you don’t answer. you throw your head back at the sudden sensation and a wild heat blooms in his chest at the sight, scorching his ribs. how easily you bare your neck for him. how thoughtlessly.

"please, zoro, please. want you deeper, i wanna feel you here,” you take his hands, sliding them down your body until they come to rest on your lower stomach. irritation, sharp and sudden, cuts through his haze.

“don’t fucking beg,” he says, low and even, “you don’t have to beg. ever.”

it’s so far beneath you to plead, he has to swallow down the growl building in the back of his throat. zoro would topple empires for you, would cut the very moon in half if you asked, and you think you have to beg him for anything?

he doesn’t wait for you to nod before he starts pushing in. it doesn’t matter if you understand yet or not, he’ll fuck it into you until you do.

there’s a moment after he’s bottomed out inside you where neither of you move a muscle. he grits his teeth from the effort of holding on to the frayed rope that is his restraint and letting you get used to the wide stretch of him. ages pass before you reach up, slowly as if to not startle the beast above you, and cup his face in your soft palm. you stroke your thumb across his cheek, just on the edge of his scar. your touch is warm and gentle and cracks something inside him wide open.

the rope slip from his fingers. he lets it.

there’s no warning, no build-up before he’s pressing both palms down on your stomach and fucking into you. you reach up to hold on to any part of him, settling around his neck, a balm on his flushed skin even as your nails dig and bite into him.

“you feel that? hmm?” his smile feels jagged and sharp, more demon than man but you only moan at the sight of it, “you feel me in there?”

it’s a strange sensation, feeling himself carve a space inside you, the push and pull. it’s filthy and more intimate than it has any right to be and he fucking loves it.

“fuck, feel you i feel—” a rough thrust cuts you off and when you catch your breath, you’re still rambling, “—so good, you’re so good.”

zoro’s been called many things in his life but good isn’t one of them. it’s never bothered him before. good men don’t claw their way up in the world and leave a trail of slaughter in their wake. good men don’t scream at the heavens and demand to be heard.

zoro is not a good man. but he can be good. to you. for you.

“breathe, baby,” he says, “don’t forget to breathe.”

he presses down a bit harder and your reaction is instantaneous, legs kicking out, the tears that have been threatening to spill over since he stuffed a pillow under your hips finally sliding down your cheeks. you take him so beautifully and something barbed wraps around his heart and squeezes at the sight, shredding him to bloody pieces.

he knows you’re close before your eyes start to flutter, can feel it building like a storm inside you and chases your pleasure with reckless abandon.

“zoro.”

short inhale, long exhale. his name a sigh on your parted lips as you clench tight around him and cum. he doesn’t stop moving for a second, doesn’t let up the pressure even as he feels you gush all over him, soaking his cock, his thighs, his stomach. his strokes stay sure and steady as he fucks you through your high.

you shudder beneath him before relaxing back into the bed and he slows to a stop to let you catch your breath. it hurts to look at you, all divine and fucked out. it’s a sight too holy for a hellbound man like him to behold but he drinks it in anyway, burns it into his mind. 

what’s one more sin to a demon?

zoro slips out of you with a hiss through gritted teeth, taking a moment to admire the creamy ring around his base, your arousal and cum still dripping off him. you’ve marked him as yours and yours alone without even trying and his cock twitches at the thought.

“no why?” you whine as he pulls back further, “give it back.”

“turn over,” even as he speaks, he’s manhandling you until you’re laid out on your stomach, hips propped up with the pillow he takes care to push under you. zoro kisses down your spine before settling between your spread legs and greeting your cunt with a broad stroke of his tongue, “i ever tell you that you taste good like this?”

“like- mmm fuck,” you say, all breathy as he circles around your swollen clit, “like what?”

“stretched out,” he murmurs, “open.” 

you’re past the point of words as he grabs two handfuls of your ass, spreads your sticky lips open with his thumbs and buries his tongue inside you. he savours the sweet little gasps you let you like the finest sake, groaning into your pussy as you start to rock your hips and grind your clit against him. he can’t catch a full breath, thinks he might be suffocating, and moans a bit louder.

a swarm of words bubble up hot and fast in his lungs, taking up space where breath once lived. half-formed thoughts try and fail to take shape in his mouth, weighing down the tongue that makes you writhe in the sheets. 

he can’t bring himself to speak but if he could, he’d show you. zoro wants to crack his ribs open so you can see the bloody wreckage you’ve caused, let you crawl in and keep you safe next to the heart that’s always, always, been yours. he’d probably burst into flames with so much goodness inside him but that’s alright. at least he’d keep you warm.

the words stay trapped where they are though and all he can do is all he’s ever known how to. he goes to work. zoro is singleminded in his task, fingers digging into the fat of your ass to keep you still while he devours you whole and it doesn’t take long before he’s pushing you off the edge he never let you stray too far away from.

he laps at your folds until you start to squirm away, crawling up the bed and away from him. he lets you put a bit of distance between you, lulls his prey into thinking it’s escaped before he pounces. between one breath and the next, zoro’s on you, draped along your back, licking at the sweat that beads down the nape of your neck. you arch into him, pushing back against the hardness digging into your ass before he rests his weight down on you, forcing you flat on your front.

“where do you want me, baby?” he asks, kissing behind your ear, “tell me where you want me.”

in this moment and in all others, zoro would do anything you told him to. you could make him hump you like an animal until he cums and lick your skin clean or stand across the room and jack off by himself with nothing but the lingering taste of your pussy to help him get off. he’d do it and he’d do it without an ounce of shame.

“want you inside,” you slur, “wanna be full.”

his entire being in the palm of your hands and you choose to be merciful.

“you sure?” he lifts up off you just enough to get a hand around his base and nudge his tip against your clit, “not too sensitive?”

“yeah, pl- i can take it.”

his grin is all teeth when he hears you correct yourself, “that’s my fucking girl. stay still, baby. let me take care of you.”

you’re soft and slick from his spit and two orgasms and when he bottoms out all at once, it’s with a low groan in your ear that echoes behind your breathy moan. sinking back inside you feels like rapture, like something he’s done nothing to deserve but basks in anyway with an endless greed.

he wraps his arms around you, one across your front groping at your chest while the other hooks around to put you in a headlock, keeping you pressed flush to him as he starts to rock into you. zoro is quiet in his worship, purposeful, and you’re nearly as quiet in receiving it, the room filled only by your soaked cunt and ragged breathing. though you don’t say anything, he can hear you loud and clear.

short inhale, long exhale.

a holy call he’s helpless to answer.

zoro fucks you to the rhythm of his name, short, devastating thrusts with his whole weight thrown behind him. he wants to live in this moment, could spend the rest of his days with his cock dragging along your walls slow and sure, relishing the way you tighten like a vice around him every time he flexes and cuts your air off mid-gasp.

but he swore an oath at your altar and zoro has always been a man of his words.

he cums with a sigh of your name, spilling inside you for what feels like ages before he collapses over you boneless and spent, his softening cock keeping you plugged nice and full just like you asked so sweetly for.

“you okay?” he asks, pulling out as gently as he can and helping you roll over when your trembling arms make it clear you can’t do it on your own.

“mhmm,” you pull yourself up until you’re nose to nose with him. zoro holds still as you scatter kisses across his face like stardust. his temple, his scar, the corner of his mouth. there’s no order, no pattern he can discern to the affection you bestow but he accepts it the way all blessings should be received. with silent gratitude.

“nothing hurts?” 

“no. but you’re carrying me to the bath.”

“okay.”

you tuck yourself into his side, reaching up to idly roll his earrings between your fingers, “and washing my hair.”

“okay.”

“and i’m gonna wash your hair.”

“okay.”

“say something else.”

he thinks for a moment, thinks of all he could never put to words and lets them stay as thoughts. instead, he meets your eyes and settles on a simple truth, “you’re beautiful.”

a smile, radiant and bright, breaks across your face. what happens, he wonders, when a demon is the cause of something as divine as your smile? it’s a question he doesn’t mind spending his life searching the answer to. 

dedicated to: mah wife @katslutski and the loml @saotoru

[fiirecracker]

bran tag drop

rabbit hearted girl ( bran. ) / you were born a prey animal but you don't have to die as one ( bran ic. ) / fear that you cannot reverse ( bran musings. ) / overgrown grass and petrichor ( bran aesthetic. ) / you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours ( general bran ships. )

[altades]

Oh, and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours And our screaming joins in unison, I cry out to the Lord

I might've dropped full pic here - https://boosty.to/altades/posts/90313cb0-1204-4a8b-a31f-c0718ca6ace0?share=post_link

[kell-stitches]

"And you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours"

Here we are, dear hearts, at the first truest anniversary of the release of The Horror and the Wild. An absolute masterpiece of an album that teaches us that we are capable of not only great fury and sadness, but beauty and kindness as well. I really looked into the meanings of flowers for this one, incorporating poppies, marigolds, and yarrow. Flowers that can represent anger and hurt, but also remembrance, passion, and healing. Anyway, here's my tribute to That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil.

[View all my other embroideries inspired by The Amazing Devil here]

[peternureyevplsdontbetraythecrew]

if you don't rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours, what's even the point ?

[scr-ppup]

Monasherion flag

Monasherion: a monachoric gender related to bats and raccoons, slashers, studded collars, horror movies, and the 90's to early to mid 2k's misfit and loser fashion, to the lyrics "oh, and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours." And, "If you can't beat 'em, make 'em bleed like pigs." and being chaotic good.

Etymology: Mona(choric) + slasher + fashion

[ID: two identically designed rectangular flags of 9 uneven horizontal stripes. The size of the stripes go one medium, one large, one small, three mediums, one small, one large and one medium. The center stripe is a continuous diamond-shape. The colors go from top to bottom as black, reddish dark grey, wine red, dark violet, light violet, dark violet, wine red, reddish dark grey, and black. And the first flag has a symbol consisting of the physical movie clap thing, and a skull./end ID]

Taglist: @radiomogai @obscurian @coinfight @horrormogai

Pisteytys; 5 points for gender attack. Previous points; 12 — current points: 17. Attack for @rabidbatboy .

[kaminarikokyu]

@omonzuru said: ❛ trembling, aren't you? still, i'm impressed you made it this far.  ❜ (from muzan <3)

there's blood that drips from her lips, now busted and damaged. her hands tremble, bruised and near broken from the way she exerted herself. her aching body is screaming for a break, begging to be allowed some rest. but zenitsu does not grant herself that. she gnashes her teeth, shaking as she stands on her legs that nearly collapses beneath her.

zenitsu is rarely thankful for her demeanor. she comes across small, frightened, weak. people underestimate her, they think she is no threat. she's not the sun, she's not the beast, not the flowers, or the fangs. she isn't someone people are intimidated by at first glance.

that makes them forget she is a storm. she spits out the blood in her mouth. she heaves, lungs screaming for more air. but she does not falter, she does not fall, she does not cry. she does not cry.

" i'm stronger than a lot of people give me credit for. "

SPIRITED AWAY STARTERS. / no longer accepting.

[groovygrub]

and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours

and our screaming joins in unison, i cry out to the Lord

'cause if we join our hands in prayer enough

to God, i imagine it all starts to sound like applause