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@feralborn
casually making a come back as i try to figure shit out.
I have survived, but I have not been spared.
Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente (via xstentatious)
like for a starter?
Forgive me father for I have sinned, I have loved a woman more desperately than I have loved God. I have looked to a woman more reverently than I have the sky. There, in the sulk of her bottom lip, I find myself talking about a heaven that only exists when she is looking at me, father she has not been forged between the dip of my teeth, she is not my rib, or my left side, she is my entire stomach, she is my spine. I have been searching for prayer, father but I have found that I can only say her name Dear God, let me have her Dear God, let her rest with me Dear God, let the sky turn red from how we burn The plum tree in our back garden has withered because I have not seen the sun for five days. I have been worshipping at the cradle of her hips father, she has cleansed me with those hands and those eyes, I do not know how to turn unless it is towards her, I do not know where to go except in her direction.
Azra.T “Take Me to Church” (via 5000letters)
| partner.
THEY ARE nothing more than soldiers damned to oblivion, thrown into destiny’s arms in order to fight for people they didn’t and would never know. He’s fragile and all that she wanted was to make sure that no fragments of his soul were left behind; or maybe there was no way that she could help him in the first place. Between those glances and soundless apologies, a part of her wonders if he already knows what is happening inside her head.
( i love you. i love you, i love you so much. )
Arms move on their own accord, her body soon meeting soft sheets as she pulls him into a soft embrace, ignoring his previous words. LIAR, LIAR, she’s nothing but a hopeless liar that wanted nothing more but to have him with her. Such selfish wishes! God does not forgive and even though tears finally surface on her eyes, gentle voice echoing around them both. Boy, oh boy, all she wants is for you to be safe.
“Zero, I…” words fail her, the evidence of the betrayal she’s bound to make right before his eyes. But forehead is pressed to his shoulder and the voices cease — she’s in peace. “Can I… Stay here with you? Just for tonight?”
warmth envelops and soothes him, weak to her softness and condemned by her unsullied words. life birthed from every comforting touch; however, there is an exchange: her flaws, her own ruination are noticed and analyzed by furtive eyes. he sees that she carries a burden on her fragile shoulders shackled by holy chains, a silent affirmation that this time around he cannot protect her. paranoia or foresight tells him that there would be a shift between them, there is a distance of uncertainty. unlikely to admit his thoughts, thus he offers arms with a minimal press of the lips conveys his consent to her request.
( i will burn you. i will not provide you warmth. )
a single calloused hand cups the back of her head, space between them almost nonexistent as he pulls her towards him. war-torn bodies flushed against one another, indulging them both to touch that provides equal parts discomfort and contentment. both soldiers are wayward souls following a path forced upon them, faced to walk towards a destiny bathed in crimson and death. where is their god now?
‘ stay for as long as you'd like. ’
no qualms, no resistance; to deny her now means to lose her forever.
| partner.
FATE PLAYS its part by joining them again — star-crossed lovers, if nothing else, destined to take each other down. Those are no fake tears; testimony of the sin both of them had committed. He was supposed to serve God and she, a heretic, should be hunted down. No, that was not how they were supposed to meet again. It’s bitter-sweet and heart-wrenching; melancholic, but still Zero. The lack of comfort is no stranger to her ( he was not one to do that often but it would certainly be appreciated. ) and now she sighs.
She’s so tired of this.
“Zero always talked like this.” a mention to him, almost if they were strangers. Once comrades and now enemies: those hands used to wipe her tears away but now they will end everything. I’d take a bullet for you but I had no idea you’d be the one to pull the trigger. Hand moves, gathering shiny accessories that would soon find a new owner; someone who’d use them better than she did, that’s for sure. “I would rather look after you but I’m sure you know that.”
How TERRIBLE those words sound, especially coming from her.
Eyes meet his once more and this is when she knows how they could have never made it that far. A smile, as gentle as it could be, for she wanted to be remembered as a happy person instead of a crybaby. Zero, he… Must have gone through a lot of things. Those words were merely a reminder of what happened between them. That’s right, I… I did this. I ruined us both. A deep breath and now she closes her eyes, waiting for it. She loved him enough to allow him to end her life. That’s how things would always be between them.
( Zero, I’m so sorry… )
“ —- Go on, then. Do what you must.”
‘ you left, you could never have taken care of me. ’
lost in the abyss of monotonous words, bitter resentment is his unsaid regrets: i cannot protect you, i cannot take care of you. painting himself selfish, condescending and outright villainous if he must to rekindle the ire in her melancholic eyes. to run farther and farther from his reach; away from his horrendous hands seeking to forcibly steal her hard earned freedom.
a tool for the order: a manufactured beast.
his expression remains placid, serene and enduring like the sea on the day before a tsunami, not showing the slightest hint of disappoint in her resignation to her morbid fate. to die by his hands, hands that used to comfort and offer minimal love; hands of comrades, of cataclysmic love. his resolution still stands, unwavering; naught disintegrated, only disgruntled by her words.
he hates her, he hates her; only within the limits of love.
a hefty blow to his rotten heart, she knows him well to twist the knife imbued with a hint of their former relationship; his vision red, dormant personality reaching from the darkness of his soul. crimson coloured hues, protruding fangs; emotions are awry and for a moment his role as the dispassionate and apathetic partner is dismantled. bloody rose suffers the onslaught of his rising agitation, hand tensing in his grip of the gun; he is in ruins -- they both are.
‘ why don't you run? ’
| sakuya.
Caℓм σcean...
or a raging ѕтσям ?
ᴛᴇʟʟ мe…
feralborn
whích σnє dσ y o υ preғer ?
|| 昨夜 || :: A rift that was created had never stopped no matter how long the time had been. New ones were being born every day, making it impossible for the Genbu to ever get her rest. No complaints had ever left her lips, however, as she kept upon her duty to eliminate the malicious souls that escaped from HELL itself. Her vows had reigned clear within her mind, unwavering regardless of the time that passed. A hand gripped at her own katana when she finally landed from two-story building, feet touching the ground in almost soundless landing as the lingering screech of the ( monster ) she had sent back to Hell echoed within the night. But it was then, that familiar scent had caught her attention.
There he was.
As strong frame straightened back to her feet, sheathing her own katana back to her hips, that image of another who happened to stand upon that alleyway made all her movements came to a strong halt. The strands of silver and the stature he took, there was no mistaking it. Despite a whole CENTURY that passed, the memories were still so clear. How she owed him explanation for her disappearance. How things were left astray between them. And after a century… would he even be willing to hear the reasons? What he might deem as an excuses.
You’ve never changed, Kiryu Zero.
years span to decades and decades to centuries, lucid time wasted in solitary confinement to himself; lone wolves have no need for packs. humans die unexpectedly, vampires are slaughtered; he is immortal, he is dead. the life of solitude is where bonds are misshapen and contorted to his convenience; waiting for a love unanswered ( yuki, yuki-- gone. ) unsurprising that a man like himself is left alone to his own devices, where hunting companions ( a term too close for him, let it be used loosely ) even go missing and do not return.
minus her.
a muted noise as her feet touched the ground, her sudden appearance from his endless wandering renders him motionless; raven coloured strands fluttered against the curve of her face, ethereal. cognizant that she is here by chance, another exchange to be fleeting as the one before. his angled features are etched in muddled shock, hardly legible due to permanent stoic visage; a slack of his jaw, an arch of his brow is given. minimal yet profound to those who know him, he forgets she will not die. rusted emotions are unearthed, brought back to life; vitriol tiers pursed and whetted fangs gnash together before parting, words vocalized albeit lacking the weight of any significant emotion.
‘ it is just like you to appear out of nowhere, eh. ’
like for a starter?
You’re dead to me. I feel like I don’t know you in my heart anymore and therefore you’re dead to me.
Ernest Hemingway, The Complete Short Stories (Finca Vigia Edition)
| partner.
EYES FALL shut and hands are hidden away from his gaze though pretending the wounds are not there would pretty much be ridiculous at this point. Silently, she had wished for this to happen ( meeting again and going back to those old, golden days. ) but now, they are on opposite sides. It shatters her completely, to have someone that she cherishes as much as she does to be turned into an enemy of some sorts. It weights deep down her soul and instead of a sheepish grin, hands fly to her face as if attempting to hide some of the sadness that was always locked away — no more.
She can’t lie. Not for him.
“God, you are hopeless.” and so am I. “Is it so hard to take care of yourself? Can’t you really do it?” but as she speaks, hands fall down, followed by tears; the taste of BETRAYAL is nothing compared to the sadness that always seemed to revolve around both. Once partners fighting for a God that has long such abandoned His people but now… What even are they now? Perhaps she was the FOOL, hoping that he would think of her as someone as important as she labelled him to.
( This is how it ends. He’s going to kill me. )
( This is how I DIE. )
“I-I’ve been worse. Now then… What are you doing here?”
( If you are going to kill me, do it NOW. )
bitter laughter is caged inside his parched throat, his mouth twisted into a smile bearing the weight of the tragedy born between godless soldiers. he remained carrying their immoral goals for an order dehumanized, dragged further into hell as she carried her light to those classified as enemies ( to pagans dressed as false apostles ); just exactly who was betraying who? tears do not move him anymore, his hands do not move to wipe them away; he has buried his feelings further. armored by his resolve, by his fractured faith; a hand descends to his hip slowly, death shadowing over both.
would his brother be disappointed? he's too lost to ask anymore.
‘ tsk, if you were here.. ah. ’ weak sentiments are cut off just like their bond.
‘ you're not taking care of yourself, eh. look at you. ’ broken, broken, broken. ‘ i can help. ’ i can make us both stop suffering.
dagger-edged tenor betrays kind words, sharp like broken glass; no monotonous softness or warmth to welcome her. his chest dully aches and is ignored, only warped resolve implanted by an equally twisted order is acknowledged. deft digits now wrap around the grip, bringing it out from the hostler; finger already on the trigger with innocence singing in the cold air between them, the safety was off. he loved her enough to kill her, loved her enough to destroy the remnants of the golden memories. almost, almost, oh-- they never could have made it.
‘ you know why, lina. ’ you did this.
❛ like two lungs, we breathe, always together. we are comprised of two bodies and yet we only have one set of lungs and a single heartbeat. when one of us falls, the other follows, like a shadow. ❜
| partner.
FEELS LIKE home but never to belong to someone like her. There is nothing left for a run-away child like herself and it weights deep down a hollow soul. Knees barely touch the ground ( might as well PRAY for salvation of their souls. ) and eyes remain upon him, trying to gather as much details as they could for it’s going to be a long journey. A long path without having him with her; the mere thought of it makes her body shiver with loneliness once more.
( I wish I could take you with me. )
“ — I can’t sleep.” the words that were supposed to leave her lips weren’t those ones. Maybe he KNOWS that she was supposed to tell him something else. Maybe he can see through her lies and it doesn’t matter any more. Because they were supposed to become enemies but she can’t bring herself to hate him of all people. And she drowns into her own melancholy, eyes stinging with pain. “S-Sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you up…”
well-crafted words press against his skin, whispers lies and lies repeatedly. causing another sigh to flutter past dead lips, was he tired of this ruse? no. her aversion, her tremble; it gives him leverage to see past her facade or maybe he's still delirious with lack of sleep. belief given selflessly to her, as war torn children he'd listen to each fabricated truth like gospel; greedily drink it down like saccharine liquid if she would remain.
cast aside salvation, steep into lies repeatedly!
‘ c'mere, do you want to talk? ’
children of the night, constructed from the foundation of the unsung heroes ( DEAD, DEAD & DEAD ) and kissed by god's unholy love. weariness weighs heavy on the shoulders of murders, nightmare's shadow cast on their features. oblivious boy, bound to her loyally and unable to notice the truth in her actions. damn him to hell.
| partner.
SACRIFICING PEOPLE was never the answer. They were partners, they were close ( or that’s what she thought ) and now a voice calls to her from a time that she’d rather laugh than cry — she KNOWS. It was only a matter of time before they were to send people after her for she is conspiring against the will of God so she shall be punished. But why him, of all people…
( God, you really like those bad jokes, huh… )
“Hey, Zero!” voice echoes around them and she smiles ( it’s been a while. ) as she hopes he’ll ignore her looks. One would look terrifying with bloodied hands & bruises ; she ignores the pain for now. “How are you doing? Taking good care of yourself?”
stoic features remain unmarred and he burns inside; she is his home but was home supposed to feel foreign? teeth gnash, jaws clenched; her ploy to remain oblivious twists knives in his back. his perception is faultless, focused on filth touching porcelain skin; what happened? god plays the devil in this arc of the play, giving his outcast children a chance to reunite. a prelude to death's requiem.
‘ what does it matter? you're injured. ’
damn her appearance despite age-old longing. an oath had been made, an unsaid promise kept: the next time we meet, i will kill you. duties bind him to god's cross, to his only martyr: his brother. thus he acts just as oblivious, locking these secrets into the depths of darkness; they are both well versed on circling one another, they were once trusted comrades.
once, were they any more?
| partner.
LIGHT FADES and all that is left is darkness — silence around them both as she stands there, lips parted in wonder with hands reaching for him. They stop midway and a sigh escapes rosy lips before finally deciding to move, feet carrying a tired body towards one’s bed, though she doesn’t just dare to enter one’s refugee. Instead, courage finally makes her speak, almost wishing to take those words back.
“Zero…? Are you awake?”
her sigh, her voice rings clearly. battered & immortal body freezes, muscles tense in instinctual readiness to attack; a beast should never be disturbed in his den. his fractured mind filled with scriptures barely remembers he is in their refuge: a place forged between two comrades to form some sort of normalcy; a term suited for neither of them.
‘ i am, lina. what is the matter? ’
his gaze rests on her, a void of emotion in dim hues; painted underneath his eyes is unspoken nightmares and the burden of death. all choked down by loyalty, by his wish to stay by her side. worry consumes him; exposed only marginally in his tone and the warmth peeking through darkness.
stelliger | comrade’s freedom.
❛ they say your home is where your heart is but what if my heart is 6 feet underground with you? ❜
stelliger
‘ is that you? ’
bitter, bitter, bitter. a stale taste against his tongue which longs for bloodshed and forms a thorn crowned smile ravaging his face; her image is a memory blurred away for his own sake and resurfaces unwanted. naturally a cold-blooded man, unknowingly swayed by a former comrade who left quietly; he understood her reasons but toxic feelings do not cease and instead spring inside rotten blood akin to the venom pulsating under his skin. thus he prays to an absent god: let it not be her or the primary mission objective takes precedence.
CAPTURE LINA WALKER, HARM IF NECESSARY.
or you will die like your brother. DIE & DIE & DIE !