#killdivine

@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. "

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

@killdivine sent : 06. wraps their arms around the other from behind and rests their head on the others shoulder. / reverse

THE   SOUNDS   WITHIN   THE   KITCHEN   WERE   THE   MOST   COMFORTING   SOUNDS   HE'S   HEARD   IN   A   WHILE.       even   if   it's   been   days   after   his   most   recent   work   trip,   it   was     (    .   .   .    )    a   little   more   complicated   than   expected.   what   was   meant   to   be   a   simple   job   turned   out   to   be   more   than   a   simple   hit,   from   one   thing   led   to   another,   and     (    .   .   .    )     “    there   was   another   massacre.    ”       he   softly   says,   head   resting   upon   the   shoulder   of   the   only   woman   in   the   world   atticus   could   ever   confide   in.       “    on   the   work   trip       -       ”       the   hunter   adds,   short   but   lingering,   wondering   if   he   should   even   indulge   on   the   matter.   news   of   the   massacre   would   make   it's   way   over   to   their   small   town   soon   enough.   headlines   ?       :     hear   ye,   hear   ye   !   another   massacre's   hit   the   northern   glades!   by   raging   fire   ‘n’   extinguished   by   nightfall,   can   it   be   tied   to   our   very   same   woodlands   massacre?

“    i'm   worried.    ”       atticus   admits,   a   topic   he   doesn't   often   speak   aloud.       “    if   they've   begun   to   move   again,    ”       his   hold   around   his   wife   tightens   slightly.   in   protectiveness,   in   concern     (    .   .   .    )       in   fear.       “    that   fuckin'   cult,   those   fuckin'   bastards.   it's   like   they're   mockin'   me.    ”       why   did   it   have   to   be   him   to   find   the   bodies?   to   arrive   at   the   fires   like   he   did   all   those   years   ago,   when   all   he   could   hear   were   screams   and   instructions   ringing   in   the   air?        get   as   much   water   as   you   can!   there's   still   people   in   there!            -       atticus,   your   girls,   they   never   came   out!   i   can't   find   them!         atticus.       he   comes   back,   the   sound   of   crackling   fire   becomes   nothing,   the   warmth   licking   against   his   skin   has   cooled.   he   is   within   familiar   walls.   the   scent   of   blackberries   and   vanilla       (    .   .   .    )     it   calls   him   home.

“       i'm   sorry.   i   was   just     (    .   .   .    )     thinkin'   is   all.    ”

@killdivine / CONTINUED FROM HERE , LINK

ATTICUS   HAS   NEVER   SEEN   WUYA   TRULY   SPEECHLESS.       sometimes   when   she   was,   it   meant   she   was   thinking,   and   thinking,   and   thinking.   but   this   type   of   speechlessness   was   something   a   little   foreign   to   the   hunter.   part   of   him   wondered   if   he   overstepped   in   including   things   that   reminded   her   of   home,   brought   back   a   certain   longing   and   sorrow.   atticus   knew   it   existed   deep   within   the   cavern   of   her   soul,   where   homeland   beat   true   within   her   cage   of   pride,   despite   everything   they   have   done   to   her.   wuya   seemed   so   small   as   she   took   in   the   sight   of   the   pergola.   his   attention   is   trained   on   her   the   entire   time   until   she   addresses   him   finally,   which   he   perks   up   to,   flustered   as   he   shuffles   in   place   a   bit.   rubbing   gloved   hands   over   one   another   and   clearing   his   throat.   he   has   never   been   so   nervous   about   a   gift   to   her,   she   had   always   loved   them.   but   he   wonders   if   these   added   details   would   be   loved   too.

“    oh,   uhm    .   .   .    ”       he   hummed,   thinking   about   how   he   should   explain   it    -    not   that   it   needed   some   convoluted   manner   of   speaking.       “    well,   i   know   someone   who   makes   trade   with   the   regions   in   yer   homeland,   mi   amor.    ”       when   he   walks   up   to   the   wood,   knocks   a   knuckle   against   it,   the   hardwood   gives   a   dull,   deep   knock.    “    all   i   needed   was   a   spot   to   work   in   peace,   yer   crows   kinda   gave   me   that   privacy.   they   were   plenty   nosy   about   what   i   was   doin'   so    .   .   .    made   a   deal   with   ‘em.    ”       a   chuckle,       “    so   i   gathered   the   wood,   lots   of   it,   was   called    .   .   .    nanmu?   a   hardwood,   from   yer   home,   sturdy,   good   for   construction,   furniture,   ’n'   adverse   to   warping.   the   silk,   i   had   fuji   source   some   for   me.   the   lanterns   were   also   imported   from   yer   home.    ”       it   costed   a   pretty   penny.   but   knowing   wuya   would   use   this   well,   it   didn't   matter   one   bit.

“    i   did   it   because   i   knew   you   wanted   a   spot   to   yerself    .   .   .    to   sit   while   the   children   play,   but    .   .   .    i   wanted   to   make   it   somethin'   special   for   you.    ”       he   comes   up   now,   ducks   a   little   to   move   past   the   hanging   vines,   all   so   he   can   place   hands   upon   her   waist   as   he   stands   behind   her.       “    i   know   you   miss   home,   sweetheart    .   .   .    a   lot.   so   i   thought   i'd   bring   some   of   it   to   this   home   you   have   now.    ”       now,   he   places   a   kiss   at   the   top   of   her   head.   atticus   doesn't   try   to   embrace   her,   he's   sweaty,   and   gross,   and   would   hate   to   get   any   of   it   on   her.   but   he   does   pray,   in   a   way,   that   she   likes   this   gift   from   him   to   her.       “    do   you   like   it    .   .   .    ?    ”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ @killdivine sent : 9.ㅤ for a romantic starter !

his wife has been asleep for a surprisingly long time this morning. enough time for him to have brought the kids along to the markets for food and their most favored treats so that they had much to enjoy while at the family estate with his sister. how eager she was to readily accept the bundles of chaos and joy for the weekendㅤ-ㅤsometimes atticus wondered if that girl was bribing those kids with everything they desired. typically, they weren't so easily swayed to be away from home. but this? oh, they fully took advantage of the boon it presented itself to be.

"ㅤfresh creme pastriesㅤ. . .ㅤhoney almond applesㅤ. . .ㅤmm? "ㅤhe mumbled to himself as his hands mindlessly began adding pastries, meals, and snacks alike for their little outing.ㅤperhaps he was a little eager as well, to take full measures that they enjoyed their date for the morningㅤ;ㅤwuya's favorite type of date, a day in nature, enjoying food and drink with her husbandㅤ-ㅤor so he's been told.ㅤ" is she still sleepin'? damn, girl might just sleep the day away if i let her. "ㅤwith that, he's covering the basket with a thick cloth before making way for the stairs.

he isn't used to such a quiet house, not anymore. when it is full of laughter, complaining, even cryingㅤ-ㅤatticus finds peace. perhaps it's because he's so used to a world full of noise and chaos, but there is something to be found in this little morsel of peace. and it is currently in their bed, tucked in on his sideㅤ( looks like she traveled a little,ㅤhe thinks upon seeing her. )ㅤembracing his pillow, no doubt taking in the scent of blackberries mixed with sandalwood and myrrh, their mixed scent.ㅤthe task itself does not take long, not when he sits beside her sleeping vessel and tucks his arms under her body to press kiss after kiss to soft lips.ㅤ" my love, "ㅤatticus says softly against her forehead.ㅤ" it's time to wake, beautiful. i've planned somethin' for us today. "