#darkdevour

[fractempyreal]

❛ ─── Nice haircut . ❜

@darkdevour hi :)

[sitheac]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwhile bounties are not something he often deals in,     they exist quite open for the taking.     as word often goes :     where there’s task,     there’s a greymane chomping at the bit.     kliff’s fangs had not sunk into the task on purpose ;     rather,     HE’D HAPPENED UPON HER LIKENESS MERE HOURS AFTER SPOTTING THE POSTER.     his brief difficulty in recognising her hadn’t held him back from the task,     though.     the only difficulty that remains,     as with every wanted person,     is the monumental chore in getting her back to the issuer.     rodion,     or so he remembers.     a name which seems to leave a sour taste in her mouth,     though more often that not,     in a glob of spit by his boot.

@darkdevour. " you gonna untie me so I can eat or are you gonna feed me yourself? " she huffs some distance away from the fire, raising her bound hands to remind him, just in case he forgot.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝     a wee bit impatient,     are we ?     ❞          out of the corner of his eye,     he spots a small shadow move in the grass.     a moment later comes the loud chirp of a cricket to cleave through the silence.     she’s given him no reason to believe she won’t use her hands to shove a knife in his gut.     but she’s right :     she won’t be able to eat so well with her wrists tied.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdespite his doubts,     KLIFF RISES FROM HIS KNEEL BY THE FIRE,     unhanding the stick he’d been using to stoke the flames and shrinking their distance in a mere two strides.     the ropes are taut around her wrists,     and through the firelight he swears he spots her skin’s rubbed raw.     he works carefully,     unwilling to burn his own fingers from a faulty grip.          ❝     out you get,     then.     i’ve got the vegetables finished,     but you’re gonnae have to wait if you want meat.     ❞

`  ❏ .     UNPROMPTED   :    snatches this and runs with it.

[vereh]

tail swishes, the smile fox-like in its nature doesn't quite meet his eyes. "careful, every human that's tried to tame me has died."

@darkdevour ♡ ' d

[goldenfists]

unprompted ask // always accepting !! There’s a softness about him when he sleeps; sparking tenderness that enflames her with an intrinsic desire to act as sentinel against all that could harm him [ all that might harm him except she herself as she willfully remains at his side ]  His birthday was a grand affair, one that had clearly wiped him out as the evening drew to a close and the raucous party died down, the pair finding themselves back in his apartment once more. Sett had settled comfortably on his sofa while vasya puttered around the kitchen to make them both a final drink, settling into comfortable, casual intimacy that shaped their relationship. He’s asleep when she returns, lips parted and visage relaxed, wiped clean of harsh lines. a stronger person would slip away and leave it at that, but she is not strong. Not as a slender finger reaches out to trace the bridge of his nose and the high points of his cheeks. The tenderness within expands, pressing painfully against her ribs, against her heart until she feels she could burst if she doesn’t act. There’s a word for it, not that she allows herself to think it. it always hovers between them; four letters that frighten her to the core. the ends of inky black hair tickle his face as she leans down, pressing her lips to his in a feather-light kiss. “Happy birthday, baby. . .” vasya whispers, mouth moving to then press against his forehead before backing away. Pressing a hand over her pounding heart, she wills it to settle and relinquish its roaring need to wake him and say more. ( @darkdevour )

sleep had taken him, but not deeply. he had drifted in and out, his structure heavy with exhaustion but his senses still sharp ⸻ years of instinct and survival conditioning would not let him slip too far. he knew she was still around before she even came close, could hear the way her footfalls softened whilst she approached, the way she lingered just within reach but did not dare wake him. a little ghost, quiet, attentive, but daring not to give away her presence when he was finding repose. in truth, he should have stayed under, should have let her believe he was still resting, but the moment her digits ghosted along the bridge of his nose, skimming his cheekbone, something in him changed. she never let herself touch him in such a way when he was awake: not with the kind of hesitance that reflected the fear of the weight behind the gesture. he kept his breathing even, his structure relaxed ( for after all, with her, there was no reason for extreme alarm ), absorbing every small movement, every brush of warmth whilst she leaned in. he could feel the tickle of her hair, the scent of her lingering so close it sent a slow ache curling in his chest.

but that damn whisper of tiers against his. so light it almost was not there, so light that it could be misinterpreted [ ... ] but he felt it, an evident jolt to his system. she murmured words against his tanned complexion, and he barely stopped himself from responding. it would be so easy to catch her then, to open his spheres and pull her down into the weight of his need, but he let it play out, let her retreat. he felt her pull away, sensed the moment she hesitated. if she had left, if she had turned and walked out of the room, mayhap he would have let it go. mayhap. but she did not. and he cared not to have the reasoning when the golden liquid was influencing his thoughts.

❝ you always make it so damn difficult, vasya. ❞ his spheres were closed, his tiers naught with a smirk, naught with an indication that he found the event amusing. only after a few seconds ( that seemed naught an eternity ) did he open his aureate spheres, dark gold cutting through the dimness of the room. she was already tensing like she was preparing to slip away, but he was faster ⸻ always faster. his calloused hand caught hers before she could retreat, digits wrapping firm but carefully around her wrist, and with an effortless pull, he had her toppling towards him. not onto the couch, not onto the cushion beside him ⸻ onto him.

he settled her into his lap like she belonged there, his colossal arms caging her in without force, without demand. just a silent, undeniable fact: that was where she was supposed to be. his hold was loose enough that she could move if she wanted to, if she really wanted to, but he knew she would not. for some reason, this time... he knew she would not. his gaze locked onto hers, burning through the walls they both tried so hard to keep up. there was no teasing in his gaze, no amusement, no smug satisfaction at catching her off guard. just raw, unfiltered intensity. ❝ say it. ❞ the words were quiet, albeit they held weight, heavy as iron, steady as stone. he raised a hand, cupping her jaw with a touch far softer than anyone would expect from a man like him. his thumb skimmed along her cheek, a silent plea. ❝ just say it... ❞

[qu1nln]

✶ – @darkdevour get's a starter !

❛   v ?!  ❜ the overwhelming shock does not go unnoticed in bryce's tone at the recognition of the person before her. many faces , from vast walks of life found themselves in the meat market. some albeit less shy than others. but seeing not just someone she knew within the dark , gloomy streets but someone she had seen as a best friend is what halts bryce into a standstill. only hunt's near miss into bumping into her backside is what tells the redhead that she had stopped midwalk. ❛   holy shit . . .   ❜

[fractempyreal]

smacks him upside the head and walks away :>

𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ,       the audible SMACK as hand makes contact with back of head causes jaw to clench as deathly glare shoots her way as she strides past them without even so much as a care in the world as to what she just did .   A death warrant ,   signed in BLOOD as final judgement awaits within their clenched grasp .   He can almost hear the muted laughter from her as she sashays further away ,   but before she can make it too far ,   there's an audible  ' click '  as Yamato returns to its scabbard .   Vergil's own posture straightening now that vengence has been enacted as a slanted line of hair silently SEPARATES from the hair resting against her shoulders  &  drifts towards the ground .   Silently ,   they resume their stride without a word .   She'd notice eventually . @darkdevour Vergil vc: Bitch.

[decaeys]

soft bingo 😭

are you nova's type?

miss vasilisa... nova is on her KNEES... she will treat you so good i promise <3

truly though if v ever runs into nova on a job or something nova's eyes are going to bounce out of her head and she WILL pursue her

[sitheac]

oddly,     silence stretches more easily out in the wild abyss than it does in the natural world below.     with it comes the calm and peace he’s hardly gotten since the black bears had caught them unawares and scattered their people across the continent.     HE LOOKS FORWARD TO COMING HERE.          ❝   i feel safer up here.   ❞ aloud,     the admission feels like a betrayal.     he is abandoning his family :     he is abandoning his greymanes,     his clan.     he should be down in pywel,     guiding them to safety and striking down everything in his way.     not up in this abyss,     where he dares to take a moment of respite.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤhis gaze roams to vasya,     settled upon one of the higher floors of the library.     she fits in here,     A COLLECTION OF PAGES HERSELF IN HER DEPTH.     he cannot pretend to understand the half of her.     especially here.          ❝   what are you reading ?   ❞

`  ❏ .     STARTER CALL.   ––    𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. / @darkdevour.