▐ ⟨ crownedless. ⟩▐
TEETH GRIT ; NETTLE BIT. he calls to god, our forsaken atheist son, muttering prayers on the soft fat of his lips ( dear god, grant me the strength not to KILL THIS FUCKING BITCH ) as lindon drags him away, boots scuffing against the ground in flighty qualms. instead of forcibly removing the hand that pinches & confines his arm, he lets it remain as it is ( else he might CUT IT OFF entirely ) & instead of spitting back a response, he follows in silence.
‘ TALKATIVE today? no? well if you’re not going to talk, i will. ‘ the walk is quiet, his mouth, alas, is NOT. to the annoyance of many and his own splendor, he continues to speak when others would bear themselves ready to hide from such a man. ‘ you want to tell me about your day? you’re girlfriend? i have a harem too, ratboy. or at least, i should. i mean, come on, take a look at THIS and tell me you wouldn’t want a piece. ‘ yes, he’s paused to inevitably point at his ass.















