#killdevil

stirring the pot starters // not accepting " i hope it was worth it. " ( @killdevil )

he reposed near the doorway, colossal structure filling the threshold, shoulders relaxed, albeit ears pricked forward. his aureate spheres scanned the fallen with casual satisfaction, no regrets bloomed in his chest [ ... ] albeit, mayhap there was a cheap primal contentment of order restored. they had been too loud, too drunk, their vocals crashing over the fragile peace he guarded so dearly. a least the night breathed easy again, and he could go inside without a care.

lithe fingers grasp the face of her beloved, turning his head to look at her, the witch's gaze expecting more than anything. kira doesn't allow atticus to look away from her, not until she was satisfied with the truth; she'll always take his word for it, because she trusts him.

❛    you're sure i've got nothing to worry about?    ❜

a small break taken between the menial tasks around the ranch. he never asked where @killdevil came from, never asked what brought him in these forgotten lands. set foot upon hallowed and rotten ground. like the wounded animals that would find their way to the lonely fieldsthe rancher guarded over; he simply took one look at the other. felt something coil deep within his being, something ravenous, forcing him to stumble upon knees when alone: clasp hands together and beg for forgiveness to whatever lurked within his homestead. prayers burned tongue, left lashes upon flesh, blinded him but it was worth it.

" who can say what shapes an appetite? ", prompt / always accepting.

a soft click of his tongue, head eventually tips towards boothill. look given is measured, time taken and not once wasted. ❝ the sun has yet to fully wake an' this is what we startin' the day with ? ❞ an answer offered finally in that soft drawl of his. once there would be warmth in his voice but when tongue was rotten how could words ever compete against the heat of a hearth ? ❝ loss. ❞ worn boots, faded in color, one is moved, tip of it used to scuffle it idly within the dirt. ❝ loss makes us all hungry. no better than coyote's lurkin' about. ❞ exhale through nose, the wither of bones is felt underneath shirt while the farm awakens as honey - like sunlight pours across the both of them. they all had to be fed ( it had to be fed ). ❝ you hungry ? ❞

     ❝     she’s grown a lot,     hasn’t she?     ❞     from what he can recall,     the last time atticus had seen the electric type pokémon she’d been but a miniscule four inches tall,     the very same timid creature that would perpetually hide ‘neath their trainer’s hat     /     a cute party trick even,     just remove the cap     &͟.     ta da!     joltik!     nothing has changed as far as her demeanor goes,     she’s still just as skittish,     just as anxious     &͟.     timid,     as made evident by how much distance she keeps ‘tween herself     &͟.    @killdevil but     …     she’s grown     &͟.     evolved,     he’ll consider that a win.     ❝     can’t put her on my head anymore,     unless i want to risk suffering some sort of neck injury.     ❞     //     ♡! 

@killdevil sent : " at least let me look at it. a wound like this won't do ya any good. " <3

sona prides herself in being painstakingly careful and elusive enough to remain hidden in plain sight, but if the glaring red gash — never mind its superficiality — dragging down her arm is saying anything, it's that she hasn't been careful enough. although she is hardly above gracefully accepting aid from others, she's more embarrassed than anything else for bearing the weight of her burdens upon someone else's shoulders. it'd been a misstep, an unfortunate miscalculation, thanks to the cacophony of endless distractions firing from every conceivable direction as the stampede of panicking crowds hurried to escape the soldiers' raids. even then, her magic is a well-guarded secret, one that she could not risk even a single person's eyes witnessing.

gingerly extending her arm out, sona tilts her head to look up at the man in studious silence. an apologetic smile twists her mouth and her shoulders slump with the sigh that remains ever-trapped within her lungs. her eyes quickly lower to the wound before snapping back up to him. it's not as bad as it looks, she wants to say, wilting visibly at the sight of the blood. she'd run into the sharp end of a splintering crate during the chaos, cutting herself on the jagged wood. of all the ways she could have gotten herself injured, it had to be something silly; but she supposes she should be grateful that it isn't any worse. sona grimaces, though, at the thought of splinters trapped amidst the tear in the flesh. gathering herself, she smiles again, mouthing a ' thank you, ' hoping it's enough. for the moment, at least.

patching wounds, always accepting.

     curse his stomach     &͟.     its inability to behave.     hardly is it ever a problem,     even when the hunger pains begin to contort his innards at full force,     the sounds few     &͟.     far in between     &͟.     hardly loud enough to be detected by anyone who wasn’t them——     it’s now that they’re at their worst,     louder than they’ve ever been before.     to taunt him?     perhaps.     his body has always been cruel to him,     consistently giving him away when he expected it least.     (     at least no ridicule has followed,     he finds comfort in the simplicities.     )     ❝     i know,     ❞      that logically,     it’s much more polite to accept what they’re offered than to decline it with the same fervor that they do but     …     any amount of vulnerability     &͟.     all the warning signals go off in his brain,     simultaneously     /      he’d prefer not to be indebted to someone for an eternity.

     but atticus is horrifically stubborn——     it’s something they came to realize from day one     /     relentless     &͟.     perhaps,     a bit like them in some ways.     (     it’s annoying.     )     ❝     i’m not hungry my stomach just     …     does that sometimes,     ❞     &͟.     yet they reach for the eating utensils anyway,     whilst the ears of his pokémon twitch,     where she awaits her own bite that will soon to come because he always shares,     without fail.     ❝     i’ll eat it anyway,     just so you can stop talking.     ❞     

          continued :    @killdevil.

PROMPT:     𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

     ❝     you scared me is all,     ❞     because, for but a split second,     he had mistaken that timbre for that of his father’s     /     a phrase he’d heard from him over     &͟.     over again during his youth,     drilled into every thought,     every ideal——     it’d startled him enough to rip his gaze away from the sleeping purrloin on their lap,     eyes wide like saucer plates,     expression unmistakably terrified     &͟.     much like they’d just seen a ghost,     like he’d said.     it’s not an instantaneous return to placid demeanor but gradually does the fear that resided within the depths of jade hues dissipates,     ‘til they’re as characteristically dull as ever     /     nothing to show for the previous emotion that had plagued them.     the grin that blooms ‘pon their features is practiced,     perfected,     wholly unnatural——     they know he’s not stupid,     that he’ll be able to look right through it,     like he has many a time since the beginnings of their interactions     &͟.     yet he tries,     in hopes that this time will somehow be different.     a dismissive wave of hand     &͟.     an index finger o’er lips,     an attempt at making sure he remains mindful of the tone of his voice     /     in case the feline that has settled on them to sleep rouses awake.

     ❝     you took a while today,     ❞     or,     well,     they’re not necessarily sure if that’s the truth,     having been preoccupied with fixating on the rise     &͟.     fall of his companion’s chest,     before he’d been stunned back into the reality of the waking world.     (     it could have been minutes or hours since he’d originally left,     they’ll never know.     )     ❝     but i’m glad you’re back,     nearly thought a pokémon finally got to you.     ❞     mere jest,     a way to lighten the mood of his previously uncharacteristic episode of dread     /     part of them is ashamed that it had been apparent enough for him to notice.     still,     all he can do is trudge onwards,     pretend like it’d never happened.     ❝     cannoli brought you a grasshopper while she was out.     not sure what you’d do with that but she insisted you have it.     ❞