1p15·:
@gewahlter· : an uneven fight and certain death await you anyway. witcher 2 prompts .
𝙷𝙴'𝚂 𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 . more than he’ll ever know . that’s what makes it burn , what makes it hurt . it cuts into her gut like a knife full of teeth , snaring against metal and cloth and blood until it touches her core , listens to that last pulse beat within her and eats what life was left withering within . but the blade is already in her hands , fingers gripping so tight that the handle bends softly , sizzles with pressure as she peers upon this great beast . his shadow weighs upon her like the world does , green eyes boring down upon her like judgment , like absolution . the anger only grows , only festers as her face contorts and that frown ever deepens . life sparks , teeth gritting and tongue biting . “ you don’t know a damn thing about me . ” a snarl unfurled , thorns snapping beneath artificial skin as she takes a step forward , blade pointed at him with accusation . all that blood , all that hurt . it blooms within her , reminds her of the past , makes her remember everything that she promised to forget , even for a little while to keep going . there , upon the end of her blade : bodies upon bodies , stacked up cleanly one after the other . each wound becomes cleaner , more pronounced . she gets better at putting them down , sealing their fate and promising them a mercy this world couldn’t afford . the hurt only grows . but she keeps doing it . keeps promising one after the other that she would live for them , even if she couldn’t . even if it meant pretending to be awake . no , not yet . not now . she promised . “ come on , then . ” she spits , sword tilting in her hand with a kind of hate she kept for this world . she would let him feel it , that thing that she wore like sheepskin . “ quit talking and let’s play . ” pulses of red static beat from her shape , electricity jumping from her fingers as she lifts her chin at him . he was in her way .
“ ＳＯ ＦＵＬＬ ＯＦ ＨＡＴＲＥＤ ． “ he is daunting , enveloped by both dazzling lights and the deepest dark , a swirl of the cosmos never far behind . lightning hails and wind howls , thunder booming and echoing all around . how every little thing dances for him . how the world so easily bends , her flesh malleable like clay . just like her children . every little one . “ i know , “ he says , as if to taunt her more , fuel the flames and takes the skies even higher in this moment evermore , “ what has been promised to you . “ he revels in her , watches her unfurl like a bruised flower . she’s as sharp as teeth , hard as steel , and yet she’s bent , bends , breaks . a fly in the spider’s web . a tiny speck in the greater amalgamation of existence . tragic , sorrowful , gone . destiny is unabashed and twisted , but it is a marvelous spectacle to behold . this is something he understands : what stands between the two of them , what brings them together and what moves them apart —— promises of brighter futures , of different paths . but there is always more . always . her taunt amuses him , and so he takes his stance , posture lax and awfully comfortable as he points masamune back to her in acceptance . if he is to be the reaper , then so be it . hmph . in the blink of an eye he shoots straight for her , propelling himself forward until his blade slams against hers and they stand a mere few feet apart , sparks flying from metal to metal . he smiles for her , green eyes sharp and narrowed , atmospheric pressure like none other . how dirty will you make yourself before you come out clean ? how deep can you plunge your arms into that soft heart ? let me show you . “ i will free you from what binds you . “
