#w4rds

[zoomingupthathill]

🐭

I'm as intimidating as a bunny, as much as i'd like to think otherwise, I am just a shy bean.

[murkyhazed]

@w4rds cont. from here.

               daryl   wasn’t   exactly   equipped   to   deal   with   this   shit.      he   could   stitch   a   wound,   clean   it   out   but   that   was   about   it.      cutting   into   someone?      that   was   something   else   entirely.      he   didn’t   have   any   more   knowledge   than   she   probably   did   about   how   deep   to   cut   and   how   to   avoid   killing   her   from   blood   loss.      he   also   didn’t   owe   this   stranger   anything,   he   could   just   leave   and   he   wouldn’t   technically   be   responsible.      but   that   wasn’t   who   daryl   was.      the   whole   point   of   leaving   the   commonwealth   had   been   to   find   people   to   either   bring   back   or   build   connections   with   for   trade   purposes.      saving   her   probably   fell   into   that   category   unfortunately.

               ❝   don’t   got   shit   to   help   the   pain.      you   gotta   try   not   to   scream,   you   hear   me?   ❞      because   that’s   just   what   they   needed.      a   herd   of   the   dead   descending   upon   them   in   the   middle   of   this   so   called   surgery.      he   looks   at   the   knife,   and   then   the   wound   on   her   stomach.      jesus,   he   can’t   believe   he’s   doing   this.      it’s   times   like   this   he   wished   he   had   carol   with   him,   she   would   know   more   about   this   than   him.      steadying   his   hand,   he   pressed   the   blade   into   her   skin   and   made   the   incision.      blood   coated   his   hands,   but   he   kept   on.      he   just   hoped   he   could   find   the   bullet   before   it   was   too   late.

[beastm4kerarchived]

@w4rds liked for a one-liner!

"Aren't  you  getting  tired  of  this  game  of  cat  &  mouse?  Eh?'  Blackened  fingertips  twitch  in  anticipation, as if he were ready to strike.

[lovingact]

“  coming,  ”  molly  calls  out  as  she  counts  out  the  last  bill  in  the  register  and  makes  a  note  in  their  money  tracker.  with  a  few  quick  shifts  of  hand,  she  folds  the  paper  back  up  and  slips  it  into  the  register  before  shutting  the  cash  drawer  and  locking  it.  hopefully  she  got  her  math  right,  but  if  not,  she's  sure  she'd  hear  about  it  from  her  sister  anyways.  for  now  she  had  other  priorities,  so  she  brushes  away  the  doubt  as  she  threads  her  fingers  through  her  hair  and  walks  towards  the  front  door  of  the  shop.  as  she  ties  her  hair  into  a  ponytail  she  unlocks  the  door,  opening  it  enough  for  the  other  to  slip  through.  “  hey,  sorry.  i  was  just  wrapping  up.  c'mon  in,  ”   she  greets  with  an  apologetic  smile.

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝  𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫  :  @w4rds

[craveyardshift]

THIS PARTICULAR MANIFESTATION OF THE SHAPE IS NOT QUITE RIGHT, though above all else he is human-shaped. the skull mask feels particularly foreign, but it's a fleeting thing, his real face securely stashed in the depths of the barn attached to the massive tower farm. the cheap fog machines have set off the smoke detectors from within the house itself, prompting a mass exodus of the teens and college students inside. most leave in their cars in pursuit of the next tailgate or rave. but not her. she waits in the barn, sat atop a bale of hay, presumably waiting for a friend to pick her up. the red-headed girl, most likely, whose face is an inconsequential blur among the masses. she notices him when a boot crunches a pile of dead leafs neatly raked in the barn's entrance.

"very funny, asshole," she says when he doesn't respond to any of her attempts at garnering and eventually provoking a response. she must know silence is a response in itself. the only response she gets is an intentionally audible exhale as he steps forward.

unfortunately if she retreats any further, she'll notice the body of the boy whose mask he's borrowing for this occasion, barely but intentionally in her line of sight.

the shape is nothing if not curious.

@w4rds — the shape & sable 🎃 ↪ saint maud.

[n0sp1n]

 @w4rds  :  even  in  this  light,  i  can  tell  where  your  eyes  are  looking.

“Is  that  so?”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  as  he  looms  over  her;  gaze  locked  on  Sable  through  the  darkness  that  surrounds  them,  barely  lit  around  them.  He  focuses  on  her  mouth,  then  her  throat,  wondering  what  her  screams  would  sound  like  once  he  was  able  to  bind  her  down  and  eviscerate  her--Cut  her  open  slowly,  poke,  prod  and  slice  at  her  organs.  What  notes  could  she  hit  for  him?  What  beautiful  music  could  she  make  for  his  next  track?  Tongue  glides  over  teeth  idly,  brow  raised  as  he  leans  closer  down  to  Sable's  face,  invading  her  space  even  further,  wanting  nothing  but  her  undivided  attention  on  him.  His  gaze  flickers  to  meet  hers,  a  low  hum  following  after.

“With  how  my  gaze  flutters  around…What  could  I  be  focusing  on?”

[deadlykitefight]

@w4rds

Renato couldn't remember a time that he wasn't being picked on. For being different, for not liking the same things as everyone else. The way he spoke, the way he talked, the way he dressed... There was always something. Of course his sister was there for him. A positive reassuring figure, but she didn't fully understand. Yet , now -- when he didn't have many friends, he would watch Sable from afar. Almost quietly judging her.

Her presence scared him. She knew exactly who she was, carried herself with a confidence he could only dream of. At least that's what he assumed, due to what he observed. So why now has he decided to move towards her? Sitting by the fire, as close as he could get to her without their bodies touching.

"Nice uh...... hair?" It came out as a question, because he was attempting conversation. Failing miserably, but he was trying.

[noctiium]

@w4rds stabbed the heart.

It wasn't rare for him to wander between realms during the eerie lull between trials, when his blade wasn't dripping with the familiar crimson liquid and there were no screaming filling the deepest parts of his mind. The need to hunt ever so constantly humming beneath his skin, a comforting desire that he didn't have the urge to act upon.

Quiet steps bringing him to the edge of the familiar clearing, the crackling of the fire the only noise breaking the almost sacred silence. Like a shadow blending with his surrounding; intertwining with the fog hidden between the trees. He was looking for his witch but it seemed something, or rather, someone else found him. " If you keep staring I may get the wrong impression. " Was that a threat? Or perhaps his morbid sense of humor speaking.