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@Malevolanced
More ancient than the oldest tales.
fictional purposes. Katılım Eylül 2025
13 Takip Edilen12 Takipçiler
@anarchiesm The claim is met with silence. His smile drops momentarily as he gazes down upon the chirping little creature, with wings, and a tiny beak on it. It clearly is a bird, yes.
“Do you consider me a fool, Anarki?”
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@Malevolanced He glanced down at the bird now. In his comprehension, that bird is alive, means that thing was still called a bird. Maybe it would be different if somebody cooked it and served it as a food, it might be named as.. chicken?
“This is a bird,” he pointed at it.
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@anarchiesm Anarki sounded as if he just barked.
“You seem to be lost,” he hums. That reaction tells him that ‘Bork’ is an alien word for him. Perhaps his theory was mistaken, as he’s unaccustomed to the mortals’ ways. “Because pig meat is pork, I thought bird meat would be bork.”
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@Malevolanced “𝘉𝘰𝘳𝘬,” he repeated. There was a tiny question mark on his forehead. It sounded almost like the word 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘬 which he understood quite well since he was young. But he just sounded like a parrot repeating its owner’s sound, he said nothing, expectantly staring at his Master.
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@anarchiesm “Pork,” Our Lord repeats.
Mortals love to hassle themselves with different labels like so. The more intriguing it is to him. A hand is on his chin as he smiles. He plucks the bird off his shoulder, and puts it between them. “If you don’t fancy p(ig)ork, maybe try 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘬.”
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@Malevolanced He stopped munching. His head tilted to the side with the tip of his chopsticks remaining on his lips. “You don’t eat pig,” he said, trying to be polite, always. He learned things that are normal enough for humans, and of course his Master was different. “It is pork.”
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@anarchiesm With that look on his face, one would think the one that got upset is his tummy and not himself.
“How so?” The Lord welcomes himself to sit on the chair across the table, not too far in front of Anarki. He eyes the food in his platter. “Do you not like pig meat?”
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@Malevolanced He unusually felt discomfort with how that bird was staring. “I’m upset,” —that his Master didn’t join him for dinner. His mouth blurted that out blatantly although his visage showed a clear hesitation.
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@2DimensiMenfess To ▓▓▓▓▓, whose immortality came as something obvious, it’s something that made him superior. He had never questioned, nor thanked anyone for it. He entertains the question still, for he’s the most benevolent.
“What do you think being born a human is to a human?”
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!2DFESS
⠀⠀⠀ “Do you think immortality is a curse, or a blessing?” Without attaching her face, kindly drop your answer to the question given with your desired language, and she’ll make an appearance in your mention. Thank you. | J–OC, DD:DNE.
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@2DRP_AU Red pair of eyes dawned heavily upon the stray filth. In the eyes of Our Malevolence within his timelessness, it’s adolescent at most; the walking curse. Behind him is an unaware young human boy deep in his slumber.
“Leave. You are not to lay one fingertip upon this human.”
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The bark might dig into his bare back. The length of his finger further touches the slick, cramped tunnel of his soul, queasiness might ensue. The entity’s smile is rotten, “Is it fear that you’re feeling, @anarchiesm?”
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of pain. He had always preferred his toy to be awake. In exchange for that, the pain might manifest into … a completely different sensation. What are you feeling, boy?
His other hand clutches the human’s slender wrists and pins them together above his head, against a tree.
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I merely left you for a short while, yet you seem to have significantly grown. Mortals certainly change so much in short time.
️️︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎𖤐 ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎@anarchiesm
“It’s you, ‘Sir’.”
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!2DFESS
“Hey, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 over there—.ᐟ” In a trice, a lass sprung up from behind you with a bundle of flower now hovering inches away from your visage. “This is for you!” ♥︎
To accept or to decline, it is up to you. Befriending her with an RT is also an option!
— W-OC
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It inserted smoothly without blood spurting out. The uncanny sensation would resemble a blunt pounding to the stomach. Not that nausea had ever bothered the deity. “Even when I am not, you belong to me only.”
Death reeks. Let us begin the cleansing.
@anarchiesm
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“Sure thing, I won’t touch him,” he finally reassures him with a returning smile, and probably the kindest voice Anarki had ever heard. The entity places him back down on his feet.
“Not a finger.” The hand brushes the ripped shirt off the human’s shoulder until it drops onto the
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