CRAWLING BACK TO YOU.

[crawlinglove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDEVOTION | [ /dəˈvōSH(ə)n/ ] | ( noun ) : ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤlove, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause.

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ#𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ; BROUGHT TO LIFE BY EURYDICE. 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍 ───── UNDYING LOVE, GOING TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH FOR THOSE CARED FOR, FIERCE PROTECTION, && LOVE IN A MONSTROUS FORM.

𝟐𝟏+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 ──── MATURE THEMES WILL INCLUDE : BLOOD, GORE, VIOLENCE, SEXUAL CONTENT, && CANNIBALISM. IF THESE THEMES ARE PARTICULARLY DISTURBING TO YOU, PLEASE FOLLOW AT YOUR OWN RISK. ALL CONTENT WILL ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤBE TAGGED ACCORDINGLY.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRULES HERE !

[soulcarvedmoved]

how horrible he feels, truly. though his reaction is justified at the very least. wherever he was, whoever this was ━━ it was new, it was scary and. . . even now, even as the other tries to make himself small, upset to some degree by eito's reaction, eito still finds himself weary. weary that it might all be a trick, weary that the moment he lets his guard down, it would all be over.

but still, he tries to see the good, tries to reason with himself that appearances could be deceiving ; despite how. . . unnerving the other might look, perhaps he truly meant no harm.

and so eito gets down to his level, shifts closer just that little bit more but maintains some distance, lest it's he who frightens the other this time around. " I'm. . . i'm sorry i. . . i didn't mean to scare you i'm just. . . ah, i think i'm lost. " a pause, the other's words difficult to decipher, but eito manages well enough.

" you want to help me? like. . . help me leave? "

[crawlinglove]

ㅤ

WHAT HORRORS, has the other been through, to be so guarded ? Had he survived Scarletella ? Stitch ? There appeared to be little in ways of wounds 'pon him, but Crawling does not approach closer to him, if only to spare himself. LOST, he says, and it's easy to believe ; this building, this prison, did not rest. It did not know order, or normalcy. It knew no stillness. Forever moving, shifting, changing. No wonder, he was so frightened.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ help ! help !! ❞

Phrase repeated, as he slowly blossoms from himself. Eyes level with where his SHOULD HAVE BEEN ; but he sees the compassion and care in the others' form, just fine. Nod is quick, giggle to follow. Slowly, he reaches for Eitho, petting through his hair with slow, almost meticulous movements.

Hand withdraws, and he moves, with a surprising speed, ahead of the other, pausing some distance away, his head canting. ❝ fä-(ˌ)lō !! fä-(ˌ)lō !! ❞

[soulcarvedmoved]

and eito would never expect perfection, or anything of the sort, really. it's more about sharing an experience for the sake of it ━━ he, that was always so eager to learn, to take part in things that eito himself found joy in. it brings a smile to his face to even see crawling try to draw something ; more than what eito would have ever expected, and something wonderful all the same.

it didn't matter if it was mess of curves and lines, not really. it just matters that he was willing to share something that eito was so very fond of.

" it's very good. " he reassures, a pat on the head, much like the other had done to him from time to time. " i've been drawing for. . . a long time, " he stretches his arms out, as though the visual might help him understand what the artist tries to say. " you've just started. besides, i think if it's something you enjoy. . . then it doesn't matter if it's good or not, so long as you like it. "

[crawlinglove]

ㅤ

Head, quick to nuzzle against the hand that comes to comfort. It's brief, and Eito parts much to Crawlings' chagrin, a soft whine all he permits himself to vocalize.

Mr. Crawling, though idle and smiling, is sent to think, then ; was there anything, like Eito, he had gained any measure of proficiency in? Within those ever - changing rooms, and snaking corridors, was there worth, in practice ? The only individual, with any measure of expertise, Mr. Crawling thought, was MR. SILVAIR, but others ..? Perhaps The Nurse, or The Bride.

Pencil, grabbed once more, efforts more focused. He, somehow, manages to draw a circle, scribbled lines that simulate hair almost akin to his own added. Terrible, yes, rudimentary, even ... but it reflects the only face he could see, in himself.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ trī  ə-ˈgen ... yü līk ..? ❞

[sajasbaby]

❪ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ — ┊❛ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇮​​🇳​-​🇯​​🇺​​🇳​ ❜ ❫ THE ANSWER DOESN'T GIVE HIM any satisfaction , but did he expect it to? It's unnerving. How can it get anymore unnerving in presence when it wasn't doing anything malicious? It's simple, though he hates to consider: it's because those that were this way could either deceive with class higher than his skill threshold or they were purely based on an innocence he couldn't trust... ❝ ...Kraa...luhng...? ❞

[crawlinglove]

ㅤ

The giggle, he lets free is softened, perhaps pitying, even. LANGUAGE, was no easy barrier to pierce, and though he spoke a touch of English, it was perhaps fractured, too broken to understand well. A demonstration would do. He points, to himself, before shuffling around on all fours, if only to repeat the phrase. ❝ ī ... kraa·luhng .. ! ❞ A name ; Not merely an action, but a name.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ yü  nekst !! ❞

Was it not only fair, for the other to introduce themselves ? Just as Mr. Crawling had done ?

[wlfsbane-a]

scared? the simple query has your brow furrowing. maybe. it was difficult to say. the parts of you that were still human said yes. what person wouldn't be? but you were hardly a person. your beast looks upon him with a bristle of caution. it was plausible that your paranoia stemmed from too much exposure to the horror genre.

❝ ... i don't think so, actually. ❞

[crawlinglove]

ㅤ

A SOFT GIGGLE, shoulders pulling with the action alone. Not afraid ; this was good, to him, at least. SO MANY, HELD SO MUCH FEAR, and though he did his best to assuage it, it was not always entirely banished. What a shame. Mouth would open once more, language that spills forth undecipherable. At least, for a short time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ lərn mē laŋ-gwij ..? ❞

[sajasbaby]

❪ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ — ┊❛ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇮​​🇳​-​🇯​​🇺​​🇳​ ❜ ❫ A WATER DEMON IS WHAT he can assume about the other, though he wondered if that would be accurate? He could be something entirely different with just the long black hair to match the description in mind. ❝ Bones. ❞ Simple response, but not one out of the question ; he's keeping his distance, unsure of what the other might pull -- it's a reflex, habit via the nature of demons in his past. One wrong move and he's pulled into a painful depth of being eaten alive...

      ❝ Bones from people. ❞ A human, technically, the marrow had all but been sucked dry from the pile, his stomach still screaming for more. With one finger pointing, he'd add: ❝ I was hungry...still am... ❞

[crawlinglove]

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ yü nēd ēt ..? ❞

THE ONLY DEMON, was the man in red. Scarletella, was a nightmare, all his own. Crawlings' home, had been manifested from the creature, so long ago, that none can remember their ages. How long they've existed. They, some of them, don't quite have much purpose, either. HE, THOUGH, DID. Upright, the spectre sits, finger slow to point to exit through doorway. Humans, were the clear diet - for both of them - and while they were hard to find ; it wasn't impossible.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ yü fä-(ˌ)lō ❞

A guide, to a guest ; there were not a wealth of humans, hardly so ; but they had come to explore frequently enough, for Crawling to know the hot - spots of their arrival. If the other, was so starved, it'd be rude to keep him in such a state.

[bindingscales]

❝... what the fuck is that.❞

God knows where they've ended up now; it seemed like these hallways never end, and the quarry they had been chasing has lost them. The scent is overwhelmed by dust and mildew and stale air; their senses weren't good enough to decipher much else. Except the thing they see shuffling at the end of the hall.

@crawlinglove ❤️'d

[crawlinglove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ ... he - he. ❞

He's there ; static. For, in most cases, he'd have to hunt, his query, and keep them safe through their journey. This time, though, they came to him. He sits upright, pointing to himself, as their displeasures ( fear ? ) is vocalized.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ help yü  ! ❞

[wlfsbane-a]

you exhale, amusement coaxing the sigh out. he still put your nerves on end — though you imagine the cause of that being that he is something else.

❝ i had no idea y' were so mischievous, mister. ❞

[crawlinglove]

ㅤ He plants himself firm, 'pon the ground before them, smile stretched 'cross his lips. Why, did he make them nervous ? He meant no harm - if anything, he was the most benign thing present.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ ... skerd  ? ❞

[wlfsbane-a]

❝ please don't peek around corners at me. ❞ \ @crawlinglove.

[crawlinglove]

ㅤ

A tip upward, of his head ; everyone, commanded such a gesture, when he skittered along the ground.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ ... he-he. ❞

[sajasbaby]

❪ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ — ┊❛ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇮​​🇳​-​🇯​​🇺​​🇳​ ❜ ❫ ❝ UGH -- what even are you -- some kind of Ringu knockoff? If you'd told me you came out of the TV, I'd believe you... ❞

                                                                     → starter w/ @crawlinglove

[crawlinglove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤHis head cants, dog - like near. Rin - Gu ? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ ī ... kraa·luhng .. ? ❞

[crawlinglove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤunprompted | accepting | @soulcarved said ...

“ pencil. “ eito says, holding the small object up for the other to see. with his free hand he points down to the piece of paper in front of the two of them. “ paper. “

a pause, before putting pencil to paper, drawing a small, almost chibi style drawing of mr crawling himself. “ you can draw pictures with it. do you want to try? “

ㅤ

Gently, does he sway, fingers tapping, tapping, tapping at the edge of table. With rapt attention, does he watch Eito present new objects giving them names ; though, the names already have names. They are OBJECTS. However, to learn human language, again, was something of a fun pass-time, and he could not bring himself to move with disinterest. Not when the other was so kind.

He nods along, watching as ( pen(t)-səl ) was put to ( pā-pər ), a small creation made of the graphite lodged within the wood. He lets out a short giggle, greyed fingers reaching for pencil ; though, he hesitates. He could not draw, he did not think, something to the extent shown to him. He does, at least, try. The result, however, is something more akin to discombobulated curves and lines, that make up the essence of nothing. Frown, is slight, before he sets pencil down.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ nät gu̇d ... ❞

[cowsuponcows]

(Gushing blood from a gash in my head) Am I a good boy

[lapis-memes]

Reblog this if you’re okay with people sending unexpected IC asks to your muse at any time! No meme prompts needed!

[crawlinglove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤunprompted | accepting | @soulcarved said ...

jumpy, too prone to being frightened of what goes bump in the night. the scream of fear that leaves him when he’s faced with. . . a new face ( and so close too ) is to be expected, his body thrown back to try and create some distance — any distance, as he expects an attack, an injury, perhaps something worse.

but nothing comes. nothing threatening at least.

a hand reaches out, tentative and unsure, like he’s worried this is some sort of twisted trick being played on him. “ are you. . . going to hurt me? “

ㅤ

SHOCK ! Mr. Crawling flinches back, hand quickly retracting from its' venture to pet through the others' hair. A learned expression, a learned motion, of assurance. He squeezes himself into a corner quietly, whimpering softly to the STRENGTH of such a rejection. He'd meant no harm. He'd never, mean any harm to those that could not defend themselves, that needed help.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTo query, his head shakes, quickly and strong. No ; never.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ wänt  help yü  ... ❞

[crawlinglove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤunprompted | accepting | @sunofel said ...

ㅤㅤㅤclark is a bit confused by the other, but they don't seem to be a danger. ㅤhe crouches down, head canting slightly. "are you okay? do you need any help?"

Crawling, crawling, crawling ; in the darkest hours of night, did he move, and YET, nothing came to familiarity. It was all, too terribly new. Where he rests now, he had rested the eve prior, in some filth - laden alley's corner, where none could see tattered robes and bloodied visage. Alas, he'd been discovered. Creature shrinks into himself, all EIGHT FEET OF HIM, giggling nervously. Were he in the building he knew as Home, he'd be a touch more confident.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ mē ... lȯst  ... ??? ❞

Other articulation, to the common ear, incomprehensible. For, the language of monsters had been built and understood and TRADED, over time. That, was a language easier to speak - but difficult to master for outsiders. Head cants, as if to mirror stranger, body shifting along the ground.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ nät ... hōm.  ❞

[wayneswife]

All the sketch requests of Mr. Crawling I've gotten from @missusruin so far <3

[parasociallly]

and yet, off-putting was not something that deterred something like him - a demon. off-putting did not make him recoil in disgust, only made him want to learn more, to get closer, to bottle up that soft giggle and keep it all to himself.

he allows fingers to run through his hair, if only for a moment, before he shifts the other's hand, for his hair was something of a prideful thing of his. " you like it? " language, of which he didn't properly understand, or perhaps that it's the other's attempts at speaking his own were. . . butchered, at best.

still, the efforts are admirable - and there was an endearing quality to that of which should have been terrifying, and yet seemed to be anything but. " what's your name? " he murmurs sweetly, a tap to crawling's chin. " do you have one? "

[crawlinglove]

NO BITE, at the very least ; but he'd gathered enough, by body language alone, that the hair was - perhaps - not a place to pet. No matter how soft it was so the touch. A sensation, truthfully, Mr. Crawling was not overtly familiar with. A world of concrete and blood, and sharp little baubles that fell from the ceilings.

The softest, he'd find, was the CLOTH MONSTER ; and that seldom went pleasantly, when company was in tow.

Finger points to himself, before he giggles again, legs shifting 'neath him, so he may sit a little taller. Perhaps, a little too tall. He returns to that slight hunch, after such kind touch.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ ... mi-stər ... kraa·luhng .. ? ❞

Such vexation, as he struggles to articulate in what way he could. LANGUAGE, did not come easy - at least not those intelligible to any but monsters. He fidgets, lips forming a slight frown. Perhaps this one was better off meeting Silvar ; but he, was nowhere to be found, as of late. The clouds, had not coalesced, and the building, had not appeared in some time.