#killdivine

wait no ur so right cuz what can he do??? just uno reversing on him. taiyou after someone says they’ll adopt the whole set like

𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕, as sedate as the surroundings that envelop him now. he'd wanted this, since the moment of her cast. something archaic, wonderfully so.

he senses no danger- or doesn't fear it.

sukuna's eyes, set with the flat, deep luster of rubies, move in obeisance to his interest. he sees the flying curl of the roofs, it's place over still water, and knows. a low thrum rises from the breadth of his chest into the wide span of his throat.

he steps forward, a corner of his mouth curling through an exhale. a breeze presses into the dark weave of his haori. 'a breeze.' the acknowledgement passes with a stamp of impressed disdain. the manifestation of power unseen, unknown into this meticulously bloomed artifice.

even the wood creaks beneath his soles.

there's something else. a stagnation within himself, energy stilled. is that why she speaks with that note of surety? is it safety that shrouds her from his reputation? no, it's larger than that.

he moves until his shadow glides near her frame. he could eclipse her with just his shade, hulking beast he is and diminutive creature she is.

a heart to heart...

burning reds finally tilts down fully, down past the arch of his nose, to fix over her face. his voice is cavernous, imperious, and low.

「 准了」

*(Zhǔn le.) / "Granted."

@killdivine sent : What an unfortunate string of events for him ...

See, it didn't matter if he'd summoned her intentionally or not. They were here now because he took what she had offered to him, and now they were bound for eternity. At least this one was cute. She almost felt bad for taking his arm- only one mind you. Fitting him with one that would do him much better than the old one. Something she'd been quite satisfied with actually, and expressed as much. And he's put it to very good use in the months since they'd made their deal.

" Why don't you have a drink. Relax. " manifesting a glass in one hand, and a bottle in another. It looked expensive, nice, and poured smooth till it was a third the way full. The first drink she's offered him in quite some time- since their last big victory against the target of his ire, to be exact. " Don't stand there pouting. Sit. " patting the spot on the bed next to her. " You made progress. I'm not asking you to be happy, but you could try enjoying whatever victories you can. When you can. " / demon verse

WHEN HE STEPS INTO THE ROOM, he isn't stopped ( entirely ) by the presence of the demon that sits upon his bed. atticus' hands fiddling with his jacket had paused in action before his interest fell flat. he could care less about the fact a demon was asking for his time, to have him relax, be vulnerable. but he doesn't care for it, all they were was tied to a single contract, an unfortunate one that bound him to this creature for eternity. what a way to live, hm? to be haunted by the thing that gives you both the power to do what you need to in order to lay the dead to rest and simultaneously stuck in their grasp.

atticus looks at the glass, and he sucks his teeth before stepping off to the far side of the wall. the wardrobe doors are pulled open and hands are stripping the fabric of his shirt / it's cut open on one side, a mishap he had on the way back. shoving it into the far back of the space. " i ain't sharin' shit with you. " he comments roughly, the fatigue is heavy in his voice. and the lack of consideration is clear. he was in no mood to humor some act of bonding from her. " victories or not. " bitter. he will always be bitter he feels.

the day he celebrates is when everything is done, but would it truly be a lasting victory? when his heart and soul is bound to her. what that means at the end of his rope, atticus isn't sure, though, safe to say he isn't pleased with how the turn of events came about. summoning her on accident and then taking a risk in his fit of anger. " 'n' must you always barge into my damn room? just 'cuz ya own my fuckin' soul doesn't mean you can be up my ass everywhere i go. "

so it is quite easy for her to do this; to lean down, and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. off center. it isn't their first, but it is the first she's given with very clear intent. a hand resting atop his shoulder. the other still raised, as though she might take the book from his hand ( she wont, she's already forgotten why she was going to ). lingering there, close, far longer than she needs- as if asking him a question. / hi. for mr vyke. u remember that thing we talked about ??? do u remember ... 8)

the first time vyke notices the change in their agreement is when he finds himself relaxing more into every time wuya changes the bindings on his wounds. when he barely still remembered who he used to be. a person holding a name that felt foreign to him. a name that didn't describe him anymore. breathing air that wasn't his. but wuya made all of this more bearable. her patience being a pillar for his search for the person he used to be. her making room for him and slowing down to his pace. some days vyke felt like a toddler learning to walk again & he truly was. little by little, her presence alone helped. caught him when he stumbled and lifted him up when he was beaten down again. that was a few months ago.

the second noticable change came with a harrowing truth. you were an experiment at first. the rest of the words are still foggy in his memory. it wasn't anger that took hold in his marrow, then. it was sorrow. the feeling of being let down, not quite treason, but dehumanizing. an object to study rather than a person to accompany. vyke sat with that for a few days away from her until the last day of their stay at the place he once called home. when she approached him once more, he doesn't remember if it was just to check in or for some other reason. he had dropped on one knee then, offered his molten and ravaged spear alongside his unwavering fealty. yes, the truth stung, but the new truth had revealed that the flame was kept at bay with her around. not only that but also . . . something within him stirred. a feeling long thought forgotten or buried with the rest of his scorched self. he was given a second chance and she deserved a thousand more, in his eyes. that was a few weeks ago.

presently, things seem so different from what they once were. ever - burning skin is finally healed and where there once were wounds, there are now only semi - twisted and miscolored patches of skin. the nerve damage is a different thing. he doesn't feel much on his skin, as is and the new scars are of no help. that is besides the point, though. for wuya seems to know every patch of him that still feels fully. he's grown accustomed to traveling in a pair, though he remains ever - thankful for her patience and presence. some days they spend a quiet night before sleep takes them. other days they're on the road until late. and other nights they spend close. sometimes he reads to her, whatever book he currently has chosen to devour. sometimes they watch the fireplace, leaned into one another.

today is of the reading variety, though he does it by himself. he reads of old myths from far away. stories parents are prone to tell their children to make them behave. some of the resolutions tickle a huffed chuckle out of him. then, wuya moves back into his periphere. eventhough he isn't actively watching her, he notices her approach. his arm shifts, as does the folded one of his legs, he's making space for wuya to settle next to him. she does not. instead she stays above him, watched so adoringly all the while. the kiss, even if just barely so, makes his heart flutter. she holds a power over him few are ever given freely. & when she lingers, he puts down the book. slow. deliberate. she stays, so he reaches for her jaw, palm against the corner, thumb on her cheek. gently, intentionally, he moves her head to face him fully before he cranes his neck to kiss her once more. wuya makes him feel safe, seen, cared for. the fact that he's let into her heart as well is a bonus, but one he would not have dared to dream of when they first met. he repays all she gives in breaching the borders he knows himself capable of. love might just be one of these things, but he tries. for her. for them. he's loving in the way he closes his eyes and holds his breath, almost as if he's worried a slight noise might scare wuya off. he knows it won't.

𝐬𝐡𝐞   𝐡𝐚𝐝   𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧   𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲   𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝   𝐚𝐭   𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭   ⸻   not   the   kind   she’d   ever   say   out   loud,   but   her   body   language   vocalized   her   intrigue   with   the   way   her   eyes   tracked   each   transformation.   every   aspect   of   each   form   from   a   larger   frame   to   something   as   small   as   a   crow   was   seamlessly   stitched   together   without   lag   that   even   silver   wolf   had   to   admit   that   was   pretty   clean.   instant   execution,   no   stutter,   just   perfect   transitions.   

&   then   it   hit.

𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬   𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝   𝐚𝐬   𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤   𝐚𝐭   𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟   :   the   same   lazy   tilt   of   her   posture,   the   same   exact   shade   of   eyes,   the   same   facial   structure,   &   even   the   same   kind   of   expression   she   didn’t   realize   she   defaulted   to.   she   clicked   her   tongue   in   between   something   like   slight   annoyance   &   the   intrusive   ping   in   her   head   that   notified   her   “new   fear   unlocked.”   

❝ .   .   .   okay,   that’s   actually   kinda   cracked.   ❞

𝐛𝐮𝐭   𝐬𝐡𝐞   𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭   𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭   𝐭𝐨   𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫   𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧   of   something   she   personally   had   been   curious   about   had   ticked   something   within   her,   so   she   loosened   herself   again   &   retained   that   familiar,   unimpressed   calm   she   apparently   wore   more   often   than   she   thought   ⸻   did   they   call   it   a   “resting   bitch   face”?

❝   chat   would   lose   their   minds   over   this,   no   doubt.   but   there’s   gotta   be   a   catch   to   this,   right   .ᐣ.ᐣ   everything   busted   has   a   catch   ⸻   memory   bleed,   identity   drift,   or   maybe   you   forget   which   save   file   you   spawned   from   .ᐣ.ᐣ   ❞

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫   𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟   𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝   𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧,   leaning   just   slightly   &   resisting   the   urge   to   test   collision   physics   by   reaching   out   &   touching   the   mirror   image   of   herself.   outside   of   being   faintly   mortified   ⸻   because   who   the   hell   would   want   to   be   her?   ⸻   she   couldn’t   deny   that   she   was   fascinated   by   shapeshifters   ;   to   take   the   face   of   someone   else   or   even   just   another   species   without   even   the   use   of   a   mask   like   a   certain   masked   fool   .   .   .   that   was   power.   

❝   &   real   talk   .ᐣ.ᐣ   if   you   ever   use   my   face   to   do   whatever   it   is   you   wanna   do,   just   don’t   steal   my   fame,   especially   my   high   scores,   got   it   .ᐣ.ᐣ   ❞

im always here for you <3