𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄. a queue based , friends only , roleplay & art blog for the yaoguai 𝐖𝐔𝐘𝐀. a genderfluid, shapeshifting crow spirit, inspired by, and based out of old chinese myths and folktales. with base lore set in a fandomless world. though wuya does have multiple different verses.
ALSO FOUND AT ; HATEFUELED ( MAIN ) , HELKTRA
exploring themes of... familial betrayal , predetermined destinies & the lengths one will go to defy them , fluidity in form and gender , finding a home away from home , loneliness despite not being alone , and the consequences of unchecked rage.
Main canon is based in killdevil's world. And is single ship in said verse.
𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆
icon border / dividers made by killdevil <333
usually go by kero. 30 , they/them. i've got 10+ years of experience roleplaying and writing. i'm also an artist, and occasionally sketch interactions.
this blog is very very low activity. and replies here can be spaced or unpredictable based on how i feel. this blog is run entirely on a queue. i also work a very stressful full time job, and have a lot on my plate. so i ask you please be patient with me, roleplay and writing is just a hobby.
ON SHIPPING: i am single ship in wuya's main canon. as it's been heavily plotted out with my friend, consistently over a year. But I am okay to explore shipping of any kind in any other verse: hsr , league , modern , and more.
just a warning, if i find consistent favoritism of my canon muses over my ocs. or my male muses over my fem ones. i will sb. i ain't gonna get butthurt over people not following my ocs if they dont jive with the concept.
comfort on tumblr is very important to me. i wont follow people who partake in any kind of drama, or tolerate anyone trying to pull me into drama as well. also goes without saying, but don't be weird. don't write problematic stuff that's clearly wrong or gross. p*doph*lia & in*st will not be tolerated.
i really don't tone things down with wuya. she is extremely powerful, but her power is balanced well by her disposition and beliefs. i ask people respect my muse, and her lore- as i would do for anyone else. anyone disrespecting, or ignoring the lore i've set down for her- will be blocked / unfollowed.
potential tags / content... death , violence , matricide/patricide , religious trauma , body horror , supernatural horror , nsfw / adult content , mentions of pregnancy , rearing / raising children , and more. if i miss any serious tags you're welcome to dm me to work that out. but i expect everyone to read my rules and know the bulk of what will be seen / written here.
HE IS STUBBORN, AND STUPID, AND RIDICULOUS, AND FRUSTRATING. this he knows, this atticus hates about himself. but he cannot help the fangs he holds, cannot help this bite and the violence that beats against the bones in his chest. like a war drum, he is always at war, with himself, with life, even with those he is should not be. his wife is that one he should never be at war with. but the amount of times they butt heads is often, but the amount of times they make up is just as much - however, this time . . . atticus isn't sure if she would ever forgive him for this behavior of his. not this time, she has spent her time expressing her disappointment in him more than not. and perhaps, no - there is good reason for it. he does not make it easy for wuya.
he is not an easy person to swallow - not an easy man to digest, his personality is like molten lava. one touch and you will remember that pain forever, even if it is best left unsaid. he doesn't know how much time has passed, since wuya left with disdain in her visage and disappointment thick in her tone. doesn't remember how long he has chosen to sleep, after taking the medication made just for him. atticus lifts his head, hair a mess of curling waves sticking all out in the oddest ways possible. the house is dark, and the sound of children playing ring out from downstairs - terrible, how could he sleep for so long when . . . ? ugh, he's failing in every way. in every form, in every aspect.
so atticus pushes himself to get out of bed, forces himself to sit up and rise to his feet. to go to the bathroom to wash his face, brush his hair and tie it back. forces himself to brush his teeth to rinse out the taste of slumber from his mouth, and takes a deep breath, ( ignores the scruff that seems to have found its place upon his visage ) and makes his way downstairs. the heavy footfalls are drowned out at the sound of a familiar voice, small, excited, curious calling out to him. ‘ baba! baba, awake! ’ his sweet little boy, jianyu is with kalila and tamaska at the table nibbling on food. face dirty, yet his smile is bright and excited. how could he not wish to do better when he sees this face? to see their faces? he will do better, he must. no matter how many times he repeats it to himself, though, it means nothing if he doesn't commit to it.
“ where is yer mother, kalila. ” it becomes less a question, and more of a statement seeking confirmation. all while he is ruffling his son's hair and pinching the other's cheek, the look on her face says much, however, she couldn't quite meet his eyes : wuya is still in the shop and has yet to come back, it draws out a sigh, a heavy one from his chest. she should know better, that even if their kids can easily surmise where their mother is. they know better than to leave and follow after her, no matter how many times its been expressed otherwise. he hopes, at least, that she had come back to check in on their kids - knowing that atticus was clearly in an unfit state to do it himself. “ i'll be back, i have someone to meet. ” it says enough on who that someone is when he already takes the chance to and visit her in her shop.
he will never get used to the way the space changes, from what isn't there to the very entrance of what is her shop. stepping in, he looks around, and it is quiet. atticus wouldn't be surprised if she disappeared to some other place, to avoid any confrontation - sometimes wuya was the type to hide away until she was ready to see him. but in this case . . . he hoped she wouldn't pull this, not now, at least. “ wuya, ” he calls out, the hunter has never needed to raise his voice for his wife to hear his call. has never needed to wait long for her to answer, yet . . . this time he is left waiting. “ please come out. ”
Most people would have likely left him by now. No? Soaked in liquor, snapping angrily as his failings are met with consequence. It was his choice; he drank while away, because he knew he could. She had trusted him. He did not wish to have her crows stalk him and watch his every move. And Wuya respected that. Paranoia is not like her, she trusts him with her whole heart. And now, she is gripped with frustration and regret. They really will have to start over. He had come home, and she could smell it before she'd even drawn close enough to touch him. Denied him what comes with their usual greetings, and bore into yet another argument. It was not to demean him of course... she loves him. She fears for him, for this thing she cannot rid him of no matter how hard she tries.
As she stares at the fresh herbs in her hand, she finds herself on the edge of something from a long time ago. It wells up inside her, threatening to spill over. She recognizes resentment, discontent. This is punishment, she has concluded. The universe is finishing what she had avoided thousands of years ago. It must be. If she had not said anything, he would happily drink himself to death. Wither away, and push her to love someone else instead. Why? Why would he ever believe such a thing possible?
Something wet drops on the curve of her thumb, and again, along the leaves in her palm. Tears. She's crying- crying... it comes slow at first, then builds. Wuya is thankful for his need for silence, for pushing her away. As vulnerable as she has been with him, she hates crying. Hates showing herself so weak, so small in the face of her burgeoning emotion. Atticus does not need to see this. His guilt is already suffocating enough- she will not add to it. And quickly, as her frustration mounts, she shoves her face into her hands. Regardless of their contents, and sobs, knowing for now at least that no one will hear her.
Her weeping comes to it's end almost quickly as it's begun. But her eyes feel puffy, her face stiff. " I love him too much... too much. " eyeing the product in her hands, crushed and sodden. Muttering further, as it's deemed unsalvageable and tossed to her side. Just in time it would seem. As she hears, and feels his presence enter her store from their home.
She wants to flee- and would perhaps. There is evidence of her fit written in her face still. But that would be too cruel, wouldn't it? So instead, she sets aside her things, stands, and adjusts her robes.
" Finally wish to see me...? " she says from the doorway, after a long drawn silence. Her tone isn't as cold as it's been, a break in the softness of it, tension ready to snap now that she sees him. " To hear me. " ah. yes. now that he's here, she feels a bit like crying again. Her face carefully kept neutral for the sake of appearances. She might still, but she wants something from him first. " You slept for so long, I thought you might leave once you woke again. Bury yourself in whatever else you can to avoid my scolding you. "
there is always a thread of familiarity that persists on these visits. be it the scent of wuya's smoke or the aesthetic that irrefutably bore her touch despite the changes its wont to take── undeniably , it is her's. there lingers a sliver of comfort in knowing this ; tiers easing to a smile as their eyes fall on the other's form. " indeed , they have. though our friends neglected to inform me of how fine a lodging you have made with this arrangement. " they are frankly curious , a lilt in cadence as eyes trail over the wares with a spark of interest. sliding back to wuya's mien , the unuttered query dwindling to dust. in lieu of it , the knight merely slips comfortably onto one of the available seats in her lodging.
the seemingly lightless armor clattering lightly as they sat and the metal of their vambrace grazed the corner of a table. " might i interest a friend with a drink and a tale , for one of her own perhaps ? " they pause , eyes easily finding her's amidst waning plumes of lavender. mirth unraveling in their gaze , silent in its awakening. " ah , only if my lady might humor this knight and honor them with a sliver of her time of course. i dare not impose. "
It is of course, not so different from last time. The size has changed, as has it's clutter. The need to adjust it, to make it easier to fit wherever she wants. Ah- the perks of a room that sits between the realm of is and isn't. If Wuya so desired, her store would open elsewhere; be it the luofu, the herta station, the markets of Belabog. It will change as she needs it to, so long as she has the materials to make it so. It too provides her easier methods of reaching those she cherishes most. To keep those connections strong, to offer her services whenever needed. For now, it is locked in place to the express. A mobile hub of sorts, it is perhaps the best choice she could have made for the time being.
" Might you? " dark lips curl in a playful smile. He has her interest piqued, quite easily in fact. Argenti is oft a source of intrigue and amusement for the crow, as beautiful as he is mysterious. " Please- " she huffs an amused breath. And with a wave of her hand, as she leans forward, Wuya conjures a cushion for him to sit upon. And on the low table, manifests from thick smoke, a tea-set and a plate of snacks. " Sit, sit. You must have much to share with me after being away so long. " the room seems to change almost, as if making room for another person. " How has your search been? "
WHEN SHE COMMENTS ABOUT HER FORM atticus just huffs, she's so stubborn . . . but he doesn't blame her. this change is probably something she has never experienced before. not because of the four reasons, but because she is a yaoguai, something entirely inhuman. otherworldly, her body as they both know and believe works differently than the average human body. but now they are both learning about her in ways they hadn't before. “ well, you are a shapeshifter, baby. ” he wasn't wrong about that. but it's not like she would keep that shape forever, it would rid herself of her true self. something wuya has explicitly accepted and wished to show before her husband. something he wouldn't shame either. heavens no. “ but at the end of the day, yer gorgeous. regardless of the shape of yer body. ” he stays true to that sentiment.
when she looks at herself, he hugs her just a little tighter. kisses her cheek a little more firmly, and closes his eyes to take in her scent and the softness of her being. his heart, if she could feel it beats strong, smitten by her entirely - eternally so. she has grown in more ways than one. and to shame it is to shame everything she has overcome, there need not be shame where happiness, peace, and freedom have finally taken root. their love has blossomed into a thousand flowers, has grown the most vibrant garden, and the most healthiest environment. atticus is thankful for her efforts, for her love. for her. “ swords? ah, ” he knows she has often trained late into the night for the peace it gives or the morning sunrise where the world has oft grown quiet.
“ the last time you picked up yer swords again, ya kinda whooped my ass, baby. ” it amused him, to say the least but there was a very obvious difference in skillset and talent when it came to their experiences. wuya was a highly skilled swordsmaster, and atticus was a manmade sharpshooter, and while he was skilled in hand to hand, and close quarter combat. compared to wuya who was once divinity and trained in the arts. she was a clear winner in their sparring sessions. “ ya might break my ribs again if we did . . . ”
His bias truly is unmatched. And she's told him so countless times. Of course it is a given, considering they are bound- heart and soul. He would love her no matter the state she was in, and has. Seen her angry, filthy, weary... and has taken the time to compliment her regardless. To comfort her, and feed the pride that rests at the core of who she is. Pride is easily misunderstood, hers most of all. Everything in excess can be considered bad, even joy. And so she tempers her own flaws, and vices, with wisdom gained in life.
She leans some, into him, gaze lingering on her own body. Her form is different, it has changed. But in her reflection, she can see the potential for more than what is in front of her. If she applied herself as she's done in the past, there could be more definition. The rounded shape of herself could become something more appealing. To her anyway, the way her husband clings to her implies he likes it just fine. As do his words, and his affection.
His comment however has her huffing a small laugh, barely there. It'd been a long time since the two sparred, well before they'd had kids. " You were overly confident last time, and told me you could take it. " she smiles, turning in his hold. Both hands pushing between them to make a little distance there. " So I only did as you said. " mischief in her tone, and her expression. She'd tended to him of course, cared for him and ensured he healed quickly. " I'll play nice with you this time. I promise. "
HE'S SHOCKED BY HER EAGERNESS but should he really? when he was the one to be so forward, should he really be surprised when his wife jumps at the opportunity? not he shouldn't. he should be more shocked if she completely turned him down without reason, or at least a reason so flimsy as eating. the amount of times they have put their basic needs to sate their intimate life ; it was natural, that is. for them to put their sexual wants first before most tasks of the day. so when the sound of his buttons snap clean off under the force of wuya's digits. he chuckles, “ damn, baby . . . ” as his shirt falls open and sighs when the palm of her hand already claims a handful of his chest. another small chuckle, though light, when she presses lips to neck and graces him with a mark. so typical, wuya has become over the years.
“ well, the last time i d - ah . . . ” she catches him off guard with her roaming hand. of course she'd immediately begin palming against his cock - if anyone was any more impatient that atticus. it would be the creature, gorgeous in all her grace, who leans back - bare and exposed for him to drink every inch of her body. supple, inviting, and with verbal confirmation. it doesn't take long for atticus to undo the remaining buttons of his pants, “ now who's impatient? ” but regardless, atticus hums with affection : warm, sweet, and softly. “ rough it is then, amor. can't say it's been a recent thing, either. ” the reminder of their lacking intimacy as of late ; ( aka the last few months, maybe even more. ) it would mean making up for the lack of it, no?
atticus doesn't miss a beat as he's already freeing his cock from his pants. a shuddering breath as metal digits, fucking cold one might add , gives himself a few strokes. even if his cock was already aching and dripping with precum. part of him wonders if they should at least take this to the living room couch . . . his poor wife would have terrible back pain from this but, she's also in a state of need and impatience. the last thing the hunter wishes to deal with is a snappy little thing clawing at his already ruined ( somewhat ) clothes. so atticus wastes no time, wuya had already begun to paw at him. a signal for him to get a move on. with one arm supporting wuya's leg, spread and a welcoming sight. he eases himself in.
it takes a moment, another, and another - just to make sure that she remains relaxed, and it draws out a groan. letting loose into a moan, a pant, and a sigh once he is flushed against her. as close as he can be - with atticus already pressing his body close against wuya, and peppering kisses against the crown of her head while she adjusts to him. “ perfect as always, my love . . . ” it takes everything in him to refrain from committing to their planned pace, it would do no good to hurt her. not like this, never like this. so he waits, even if it's agonizing to do so with this heat clenched around him. “ tell me when, baby - ”
TAKE RESPONSIBILITY... she would say. He can see it in her expression, in how her body moves, how she speaks. It was after all, him who had come to her- who put his hands on her body, who kissed her so fervently. Who has reminded her body that it has been without him for too long ( hands and mouths were fine, but it didn't satisfy the same ). Yes and realization dawns on him just as she reminds him too- good. They'll have a few days for one another. A few days to touch, and taste, and feel, just like they used to. Though it wont be all passion and heat; Wuya has plans to see to... eventually. At current she couldn't think of much else but her husband. Of his scent clinging to his clothes, his hair- of the heat of his body.
" Ahh- A- Atticus... "
A hand grips the edge of the counter as he pushes himself inside. It's tight, and there's a pressure there ( more than usual ). But he's so good, so attentive. It's just exactly what she wanted, needed even, after the last few months. The last time they'd tried anything, even something small- they'd been interrupted. And for some reason her mind cannot help but fixate on that unfinished moment. It has her leaning forward the moment he's flush against her. Willing her body to relax, as she catches the strain openly shown on his own face. " Need- I need you to move... " spoken on an exhale, as she shifts now. Curls an arm around his shoulders, so she can rest her cheek against one of his shoulders. Please, she wants to say, please. But pride this time around demands she bite her tongue. Which she does.
The first moments are an adjustment, a welcome one. But it gives way soon enough to the pleasure she's accustomed too. And as always it is less about the act; and more about what it means. How close he is to her, inside her- again and again. It has always been about this; coming together, indulging, and satisfying something for only the two of them. Wuya is torn from her thoughts as her body reacts sharply to his. Tearing a drawn, heavy groan from between her lips. Not words, just sounds, muffled slightly as she hugs him tighter- and presses her teeth firm against the soft skin where his throat and jaw meet.
The indestructible euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love. You are a being who thrives on love, and the joy of discovering it with someone new feeds your soul like nothing else. There is a purity to the joy of new love, a thing untouched by the past of the future, simply existing in the beauty of its moment. Be careful however, that you do not lose yourself to chasing this joy - new love is a wonderful thing, but do not leave behind those that love you already in the search for this. There is a different kind of happiness to be found in love that lasts, and it is a conscious choice to build this into your life. Take time to appreciate your new love, but remember there are others in your life who love you, and do not abandon them.
HE HAS ALWAYS KNOWN THAT WUYA HELD A SMALL SLIVER OF DISAPPOINTMENT in the fact that he is more work than play. even if he tries to deny it, work was, for the longest time, all he knew. it was why atticus was considered to be so reliable, and trustworthy with the jobs he is paid for. he would not return until the task at hand is done. that much he is certain. but when the hunter is home, that is when he is all play and minimal work. for what purpose should atticus work when he has a darling at home, waiting for him, and so willing to tend to him should he ask? of course, such a gesture is return tenfold for the joys of seeing his lady happy and pleased triumphs over any struggle he has endured while away. “ mm, definitely should visit. their nature trails are gorgeous in the colder seasons, though, i'd say the festivals make it far more romantic. ” wuya wasn't always the type for romance, that is, until atticus has treated her as she should be. he likes to think she has finally allowed herself this joy.
though, when wuya warns him, it plucks a deep chuckle from his throat. he had dozed off the last time she had done this for him ; fell asleep right against her shoulder, and she had to bear the weight of her lover while trying to wash long tresses. while he tries not to fall asleep, he does close his eyes. lets the touch of wuya's fingers press against his scalp, lathering his hair, pleased, relaxed - more than he has been for quite some time. a hum has escaped him in gentle tone, but when atticus begins to doze off, the sound of her voice brings him back. join him? now that's a first, well, not truly, wuya has followed him around before. but that was more in line with her simply wishing to watch him, long before they were an item, he has teased her for it. stalking him when he knew that she was more concerned with his well being than that. but also because she was so deeply curious about him.
“ join me? mm, now i'm not sure, baby. yer pretty distractin' for a guy like me. ” he chuckles, but the thought was nice, made his chest warm thinking about the fact wuya was so willing to join him. with her skills, most of his work would already be taken care of. it would do good for business, but knowing his lady love, wuya would push to enjoy both business and pleasure. a stubborn, greedy little lady she can be. knowing atticus would indulge more than he should and nothing would be done. “ but it'd help me, knowin' yer there for me. ” the hunter adds, “ makes it less lonely, i guess . . . easier for me to take the world in than work ‘n’ leave. ”
The idea of romance, of dates, of... outings with a loved one... were all foreign concepts not too long ago. Their slow burn has changed her in a lot of ways; he has. And she hopes that perhaps she has done much of the same. Will do the same, given enough time. There are still aspects to him that she finds distasteful, and she has never been particularly secretive about it. But that is part of love isn't it? To accept the good and the bad, in tandem. To love the ugly parts of him, the things he tries very hard to keep shoved down and out of sight. Of course, Wuya isn't so ignorant to think there isn't anything about her that gets on his nerves. She's seen it, seen how her bluntness has made him quiet more than once. Their communication, even if it isn't always in the moment... is... well it's done a great deal for them both.
But... never mind that. Now is not the time to ponder on what if's. On things that have come and gone. Their relationship is stronger than it's ever been. And while she was plenty content to hover as a bird... joining him. Helping with his work, when he isn't doing so for her... well. It would be a good opportunity to remind him that he's allowed to enjoy himself regardless of why and where it's brought him.
" Then the next time you leave for work. I will go with. " as if she has decided based entirely on his own admittance. She knows loneliness well. And to think he's miserable out there, without her... poor thing. " And I will make sure we get the work done, before we play. " a lilt to her tone. One hand works to squeeze the soap from his hair, as she runs water over it. Her other against his forehead, so none of it gets in his eyes. " You know, I feel it might do us both some good actually. I've seen how you are when you're working. So serious. " teasing as she adjusts his hair then, attention focused entirely on ensuring it's free of lather. Before her gaze returns to his, smiling still. " No wonder you come back to me as tense as you are. "
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 . . . ? ”
Oh, he's so sweet. Fumbling over himself as he explains how it was he'd managed to do this without her knowing. Of course; a deal with the crows who've sworn themselves to her. Oft so loyal, it makes sense that they would bargain with the man she'd so openly given herself to. And my... they're certainly very good at keeping secrets, gossiping amongst one another in the trees. Her gaze shifts again to the details she finds- even in the wood itself. Yes... Nanmu. It's overall build reminds her of... home. More specifically of those long summers; spent under whatever shade she could find. Enjoying cool melon slices stolen from the kitchens. It's so vivid, it makes her heart ache- has her stepping slowly further beneath the pergola's shelter.
" I didn't know ... " she almost loses track of her words, syllables tapering off into soft surprise. " I ... well, I suppose I never bothered to check if the sanctum had routes back home. " and why would she? The divine courts there had been so intent on torturing her; punishing her a dozen times for defying their great plan. After all this time, she had accepted the fact that she would never return. That to do so was a death sentence- or worse. His touch to her waist pulls her back to the present, has her leaning against him fully. Despite the sweat and grime- she didn't care. Both arms folded at her front. It's warm out, and she can hear the buzzing of insects as the breeze gently brushes past.
A small, subtle smile graces her lips. Having children has made her terribly soft, hasn't it? Emotions well upwards, kept from spilling with an intake of air. " I love it. I... " ( i love you. she means. ) and for the first time perhaps, in recent memory... " You didn't have to. " she knows he knows. " To go to all these lengths to entertain my... " what does she even call it? Grief? Longing? It feels very... empty sometimes. And she knows he's caught her staring at old things in her pantry. At talismans unfinished, at books, scrolls- " Do not misunderstand... I am grateful, happy you did. But all this effort... it cannot of been easy to do all this. "
@killdevil asked: ❛ chest . place your head on my muse’s chest . + ❛ tender . kiss my muse on the ( . . . ) wuya's knuckles .
The home they've gotten for themselves is small. A single bedroom they can just barely afford ( comfortably enough ) with their pay. But Wuya really wouldn't ask for any more than what she has. Her head resting against his chest, listening to his heart beat steadily beneath her. It feels so surreal still, so... impossible. From buzzing summers of ignorant bliss, spent running through fields, and along creek beds chasing frogs. Laughing while her life was planned out for her- a prison she escaped before the door could close forever. With him... with the boy she'd fallen for as soon as she knew what it meant to fall.
He presses a kiss to her hand, and begins to hum something they've both heard on the radio. She doesn't want to ruin the moment, doesn't want the silence to break. It's so peaceful; the most at ease she's felt in days. Is this what love really is? Is this what she would of lost, had they not run away together? It makes her weepy almost, nearly- no. There is a build of wetness in her eyes, as lashes drift shut. Why does she cry so much? Maybe she's just too overwhelmed by how much he's given her, given up just to see her safe and happy. How has she ever deserved him?
Cheek turns, to hide her face against his shirt. She smears her cheap makeup against it, knows she is making a mess of them both. But she doesn't want him to see her teary eyed again, at the thought alone of everything he's done for her. An arm curls around his middle, and it is against his chest- she mutters low, nearly indecipherable;
@gracelis asked: elodie yawned as she set aside her embroidery to let her head fall against wuya's shoulder. "you are comfy." she muttered as she clasped onto his arm , closing her eyes. "just stay like this for a tiny bit , i just ... need to rest."
Wuya did not mind the quiet; he enjoyed it these days, despite the melancholy it often times brought in it's wake. Perhaps it was his present company that made it even better than usual. Elodie was a true gem, a treasure amidst the wood that surrounds them. A spitefire with a colorful personality, who shone like a star. Of course, Wuya loved beautiful things- no shame in that. But his affections for her have grown of late. Allowing her more grace, and more patience, than he has allowed anyone in a lifetime.
He holds still, but not stiffly, as she leans against him. The fabric of his robes soft, and silky, smelling of blackberries and vanilla. " Am I? " he coos slightly, lips curled in a gentle smile. Satisfied quickly by how her body goes slack against his. If comfort is all she needs, then he is content to give it. A hand coming to rest against where her arms curl around his. " Sleep then, dear. I will make sure you are undisturbed. "
@killdevil asked: " lookin' outside every hour isn't goin' to make the fear go away. " he calls to her, from the kitchen itself as the sound of clatter and food sizzling on metal pans fill the air. " i know you've been anxious lately, sweetheart. but yer only gonna give yerself heartache. "
The scent of food is so often a comforting one. But she cannot help the wash of worry that falls over her. It is Jianyu's first solo job; a hunt without the aid of her or his father. He's an adult, and after a great deal of difficulty, has been deemed ready to do this sort of work alone. And yet... she worries. She knows he'll be back once he's finished. Home was still here for the time being ( and that worried her too. to think they will be leaving to make nests of their own ). How can her husband, her heart, expect her to be calm and complacent. Not to fuss or worry or fear for him?
It's a first in a long time, and it's overwhelming. Of course she worried for Atticus at times too, but she knew what he was capable of. And once his recklessness had been rectified- her fears vanished. Until...
" Fear... " she mutters to herself. She is fearful, yes. That's their son, and there is a chance he will never walk through their door again. In the span of a breath, her form is sat atop the counter near him. The aroma is familiar, stronger- it's food she's eaten countless times, expressed joy in eating. " I cannot help it. " said with a tone so small it seems, out of character. This is not the melancholy he's grown used to; Wuya has shrunk in on herself from this anxiety. " I would send some of the crows to watch him but, he insisted he didn't need them. " staring at the pan he holds in his hand. Watching the food fry, and bubble with flavor. " Atticus, What if something happens? This was... not an easy job you sent him to finish... "
