Roxas Lorin Kilgore @on-the-roxas - Tumblr Blog

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YOUR LIFE WAS A DESTINY'S CHILD SONG. Say my naaame say my naaame. YOU ACTIN' KINDA SHADY AIN'T CALLIN' ME BABY. OH MAN, Kilgore. Your old squeeze was fucking trifling.

You are the shit stain on this earth.

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on-the-roxas

✝ Crucify ✝

d4y5

If Roxas had the ability to shut the fuck up for five minutes he probably wouldn’t be chained down and be stuck in the position he was in. “It’s like this because you choose it to be this way, Roxas,” he rolled his head to the side before he earned his grunts of pain that must’ve been satisfying to hear. He glanced around at his surroundings and remembered how he trailed all over this house including the rooms that had sheet-covered furniture. Now it was starting to look like this would be the place where he would end and be buried next to the skeleton of Roxas’ first real lover under the tree in the backyard. He was able to take in the irony of his posture and hit his head back in frustration. “I’m going to kill you, Jesus Christ.” His tone was so sincere, regardless of the fact he had no idea of what magic he could conjure up he had intentions of killing the young blond.

When he got his crown of thorns he made a pained expression and desperately wanted it off but the thorns dug into his skin and was fixed in his hair so no matter how much he moved his head around it would not come off. Thin rivers of blood traveled down the side of his face and rolled down to his eyebrows. He knew he was fucked by not telling anyone where he had went off to. It was biting himself in the ass he didn’t have any knowledge of any form of magic to defend himself or make some communication to his best friend.

Suddenly Axel was being fed the slivers of heart. He remembered slicing up the heart exactly this way when he fed pieces to Kilgore. He knew this was all his fault of why he was here, but he would be damned if he would die here. He reluctantly ate the pieces of heart and almost had distaste for it. It had been a long time since he ate a full heart, when Kilgore and him were on missions he would only take a few, measly bites out of the organ and hand off the rest to the boy. He didn’t know how much heart he could handle anymore. He put the thoughts of helping Roxas out of the cult on the backburner and was focusing on how he could get out. He could not tug himself off of the restraints, which had become frustrating. Yet, as many terrible horror movies he had saw, he figured it could not get any worse than this. There was nothing to say to the boy to get himself out of this since this was complete fun and satisfaction whenever Axel Christ groaned in the agony of the thorns digging into his skull and being fed the slivers of heart. He would find a way out.

He watched the boy who was settled on his lap with furrowed eyebrows and the same look he gave him of hatred when he stomped his ribs. “Jesus, look at you. You think I’m pathetic, I’m not the one calling my ex over to enjoy some bible kink,” and he managed to smirk at his own words. Seemingly amused, Axel rolled his head back and when Kilgore’s fingers were in his mouth again he finally bit down as hard as he possibly could.

on-the-roxas

His laughter was stark in nature when Axel had the nerve to genuinely believe he was going to kill him. “Of all the fucking things to say to me right now--you’re a little tied up, don’t you think? I’d like to see you try to kill me.” Amusing himself with the way Axel reluctantly chewed on the chunks of toughened flesh he had recently extracted from his last kill’s meager chest, Roxas’ eyes narrowed when his intentions were purposely misinterpreted as ‘bible kink.’ The entire concept of what he was doing to Axel being sexualized made his guts roil and turtle within their mucus encasing, but the second he went to bring back his fist to strike the man’s nose he let out an annoyed hiss. Jerking back the other arm, Roxas swiftly examined the damage to his fingertips, realizing there was a steady river of blood dripping onto Axel’s chest. Immediately, he grew sullen. The ache was dull but it was enough to anger him, and without another moment’s hesitation he decked the redhead’s jawline with as much force as he could muster before leaning over him. Their faces were but centimeters apart.

“You look good like this.” He dragged his fingertips through the blood streaming over Axel’s brows and took a moment to taste it like an afterthought of icing. “Really good.” Leaning down, Roxas playfully grazed his lips across Axel’s before exhaling a breathy sigh, following it with a subtle nip on his bottom lip. “But anyway—time for the real fun.” Parting from the faint kiss, Roxas leaned back and finally reached over for the rusted nails and hammer he had set aside. Glaring at Axel’s hand, he listened for the resonating pop of finger joints being spread out until both backs of his hands were flat against the wooden floor. “You’re not a mess I’m too interested in cleaning up. I can’t wait for you to rot like this.” Meticulously, he gently placed the tip of the harshly sharpened nail’s tip onto the center of Axel’s wide palm and squinted as if judging something. There was a quick sigh before he twirled the hammer around in between his fingertips. “Now scream.”

Bringing back the hammer, Roxas’ expression remained void of emotion when he slammed the hammer’s flat edge onto the head of the nail. There was the defining sensation of holy metal slamming through fleshy pulp and bones. When the blood seeped out and Axel’s jeer of agony whispered between clenched teeth Roxas finally let out a mirthful laugh that rang with genuine amusement. “You should see your fucking face.” Slamming the hammer down once more until the head was flat against his skin, Kilgore took a moment to admire the handy work with a cute wrinkle of his freckled nose. “This is just precious—next hand!” Repeating the process, Roxas laughed even harder when the second hand found itself in its partner’s same position. Hammered down with a thick nail causing blood to gently river out into the wooden floors; Roxas dragged his gloved thumb through it and proceeded to paint an inverted cross on Axel’s forehead with a quiet hum. “Hail Axel Christ, no? Don’t worry. I’ll let your child know you were a martyr for a great cause: My Amusement.”

Standing up with the suffering Axel still in place, Roxas waved the man’s form off with a meager sigh. “I’m going out for a while. My sister has some materials I need in order to make your stay here even more pleasant. Don’t worry—Beth likes you, so she won’t feed on your fingers. Though, I can’t promise she won’t lick the blood.” Grabbing his jacket with a satisfied little smirk, he threw it over his bare shoulders and walked past the crucified redhead with the scent of goat’s blood trailing after him. Before he made it through the front door Roxas mockingly crossed himself backwards. “Bless thee.”

#d4y5

on-the-roxas

✝ Crucify ✝

d4y5

Axel took in a long breath when he walked into the house after witnessing the door open by itself or rather magic. The entire concept of real magic and demonic abilities was new to him after discovering he wasn’t human and maybe that was the answer to why his brain was wired the way it was. It was probably why he was so cloaked in darkness and was eager to have found someone like himself only to be disappointed in the end in false love. The love Axel Christ and Roxas Kilgore shared was not for each other but rather each other’s darkness. When he stepped inside he looked down at Kilgore and remembered that he was particularly small in size but was growing some. He was getting older, and God did the hearts and cult age him more.

Kilgore had a way of talking too much. As if he was having a monologue moment with an audience of one and giving it his all when it was unnecessary. “Roxas…” He said with a low voice but Kilgore continued anyway and went on about his potential family and significant other and sometimes forgot why in the world he had even bothered to be with Kilgore. He furrowed his eyebrows plenty of times when Kilgore spoke. He wanted to get down to where he wanted to talk with Kilgore with nothing but good intentions in conversation. “Roxas–“ But Kilgore cut him off constantly and he was beginning to get frustrated real fast. Kilgore talked too much and that was something Axel was picking up on. “Kilgore, goddammit, kiddo.” That was right, he was a kid. Nineteen and so impressionable and had done so much in his short life. If Roxas would be ever found out for the things he had done, which he wouldn’t be, people would discover they got it easy and lucky and would be sick the instant to find out what horror he had done. Once Kilgore turned around and displayed that grand tattoo on his back he sighed some.

“What an embarrassment.” He took in a sharp breath and grinded his teeth together. Axel had no loving feelings towards the young blonde, but he would not be called an embarrassment as if Kilgore was on a high pedestal and only the greatest kind of dick would be allowed inside of him. “You little fuck. Yeah, me of all people to be inside of you is embarrassing. Not the fat, sweaty fucks that you let cum inside you–“ But his angered rant would not continue once there was the sudden flash of light and everything was white. He was set in a world of white and a high pitch noise that shook his brain.

For a short while he thought he was dead but came to the conclusion he was somewhere in his brain because hell was not this. Hell would be too easy to handle, then, if it was. If Kilgore had killed him it was one hell of a way to go, but he hoped he wasn’t. He wondered if this was payback because of his empty promises to Kilgore that he would be there for him. He promised him the world on the beach, which seemed to be forever ago and long gone. He left, though, and he assumed Kilgore must’ve thought it was some sort of payback by cheating on him as well. It wasn’t that, though, but rather he found someone who loved him. Roxas Kilgore did not love Axel, and that’s why he left.

He wanted to raise his hands to his eyes and rub them while muttering, “Christ,” under his breath. He was paralyzed, though and he badly wanted to stir awake at any moment. “I should’ve killed you forever ago,” he was able to mutter.

on-the-roxas

The sweep of white magic left Axel immobilized long enough for Roxas to efficiently chain his wrists and ankles down with those skin searing restraints. Roxas had used his own form of gloves to manage them, but the energy had leaked onto his fingertips enough to leave the skin raw and his bones aching. That was why—when he finally lifted the curse off Axel’s consciousness—he was flexing his fingers with a furrowed brow. He had heard the reference to his life as a prostitute right before knocking him flat on his ass, and it had only been fuel to the fire. Axel had wanted to talk, and there was nothing to talk about because the man had done nothing but prove himself as another liar brimming with false hope. Roxas had cruised through his life being cast aside repeatedly. From his mother selling his virginity to a fifty year old business man when he was thirteen to his very first love telling him he was better off on his knees and ending up beneath the rooted oak tree behind his house. The redhead was nothing but another notch in the bedpost of his life’s substantial hurt. He didn’t care anymore. This was all for fun.

That being said, when Axel woke up the first thing he did was crouch down beside him and admire the T-shape his body made over the occultist symbolism. “You’re probably right. You should’ve killed me, but you didn’t because you were dick struck. Funny how that happened.” Roxas abruptly stood up and didn’t think twice about slamming steel toed boots into the man’s ribs. He knew all too well how fast Axel Christ would heal, so he made a point to do it again. “Fuck you, Axel!” The words tumbled out before he could catch himself. “Fuck you for all of this because you know it’s your fucking fault!” He suddenly locked his jaw and gritted his teeth. “There’s nothing to talk about between us because you fed the hearts to me and you promised me we’d be okay! So fuck off with your stupid shit it’s nothing but total bullocks—just fuck you! You knocked up a pretty little girl? You fell in love with another little blonde? Good for you, but that doesn’t make you some high and mighty do good son of a bitch, Axel! There will never be peace between us!”

Stepping away from Axel, Roxas shifted his muscle lined shoulders and planted both hands on his hips. “Whatever, whatever—I don’t even know why I’m talking.” At that, he finally grew quiet. “I never loved you, as you know, but I did look up to you a lot. Like, a mentor, and I think that’s why this still hurts. I never had anyone who cared about me the way you did. Acceptance…” He raised a hand as a defeated gesture. “Whether or not you stopped fucking me or being romantically interested, who cares? That’s all so cheap to me. I’ve been fucked since before I even had surging testosterone. I’ve had men love me since I can remember.” Leaving it at that, Roxas suddenly picked up the crown of thorns and didn’t think twice about roughly yanking it onto Axel’s head. Letting out a quiet laugh at the sight, he wandered over to the table where he had pieces of heart chopped up. Roxas snatched up the plate and settled himself down on Axel’s lap with a completely blanked expression. “Get the fuck over yourself. You’re not good, and you’ll never be lowly enough to wander with the likes of your blonde little Mary Magdalene.”

Suddenly pushing a piece of muscular flesh in between Axel’s lips, he didn’t think twice about shoving the heart down the man’s throat until he was forced into swallowing.

on-the-roxas

✝ Crucify ✝

d4y5

He received the call from the thirteenth member and wanted to deny it terribly. The thought of Kilgore made his skin crawl and how he so much wanted to stay away and forget about any connection with him, but with the cult at large and the potential threat it held to his almost starting family he would not risk it. So he answered and exchanged small talk with him that they needed to talk. He wasn’t sure about what, maybe it was about a mission or they could finally get around to talking about Roxas’ addiction with the hearts Axel felt greatly responsible for. He stood there in the living room while his pregnant beach babe slept in the bedroom. He pressed his cellphone to his lips and went into deep thought about Kilgore. There wasn’t any love there, more like hatred but the underlying tone of care. After all, a year with someone served some understanding why he thought about him. Maybe it was because he was much older, too, and had felt responsible for him even then. He worked hard into making sure Roxas had nothing to do with the cult and had failed when he had gone ahead and joined.

Maybe they could talk like civilized, human adults. Although the human part he wasn’t sure about. He could at least talk to the younger male about his addiction and convince him to sway away from the cult because he had the intentions of slipping away from it once and for all but he could not do it when Kilgore was involved. Trust was an issue, considering what Roxas had done to Marx and beat a life out of her and tossed Axel into complete agony. He rolled his jaw and reached for his keys as he pulled on his spiked, leather jacket and headed out of the apartment. He did not bother to wake Marx or leave any note about where he would be off to, not that he did so usually but he did not want her to be aware he would be around the person that made her uneasy and with good reason.

Axel ate up the road with his Firebird, heading to the place from memory. Roxas’ place was far out of town and passing through the woods that led there sent chills up his arms because of winter’s breath and eerie setting. He thought about Kilgore again and how sometimes he felt like he knew and understood him. It almost sounded like a joke, but when he thought about the brief mentions about growing up in that house and imagining the things he saw could warp anyone the way Kilgore is. If it wasn’t for what his careless action he could be his best friend, but that was no longer an option. He could at least help him out, at least just this once. By then he had to suck it up when they went on missions and be able to stand Kilgore’s presence and push their history aside to finish their job. It was easier said than done, but maybe outside of work he could do it too.

When he came up to Kilgore’s home he took a long time to get out of the car. He remembered pressing a cigarette to his skin once as motivation to get out and had to repeat it again to get himself out. He rummaged through his pocket for a cigarette and lit up, taking a few drags before pressing it against his wrist and a muffled groan emitted from him. He got out of the car. Maybe Kilgore only called him up to help him scrub the blood off the bathtub because Lord knows it had to take two killers to do that job with perfection. He took long strides to the door, the dead leaves cracking under his booted shoes that he was sure he had used to stomp the boy with out of anger. Then he paused near the door and approached it with certain caution, and suddenly nothing felt right just then. Cruel intentions licked up his spine and dug its claws into his pectorals. Regardless, he was there now, so he knocked three times and waited, unknowing Kilgore had been at the window just seconds ago.

on-the-roxas

Roxas was still holding his coffee when he waved his hand and forced the door open with a gentle sweep of magic. There was a nonchalant wave at Axel Christ as he spotted the man in all his familiar glory. The same ole style of jacket, the same green eyes lit by the kind of non-human energy Roxas had recognized early on in their relationship, and that hair. The blond had always been so thoroughly amused by how the carpet matched the drapes, and he rolled his tongue across his upper row of teeth before faintly exhaling. He took a momentary sip before finally speaking up because the echo of Axel’s boots against his flooring was such a tangible memory. He had once been more than happy to hear the resonating thud, but now it only made him sneer like an offended cat. He supposed it was only natural after having his skull bashed in by what he was assuming were the same pair of shoes. The thought alone of that night made his head contemplate aching.

“You actually managed to free yourself up from the domestic hold of your darling blonde?” Roxas kept the bitterness to a minimum as he laughed into his mug, but he sucked it up enough to continue. “She’s pretty, you know? That entire gene pool you two have is going to make for an interesting spawn.” Another sip followed and he finally turned completely around to face Axel. In that moment they mirrored one another impressively. Both in their leather pants yet Roxas was the one without a shirt because he wasn’t interested in having to do more than the necessary laundry after dealing with Axel Christ appropriately. “Congratulations, though. On the whole fertilizing a human egg thing. It’s impressive, really. I mean, you used to be so avid about your distaste for the entire concept of knocking a woman up. If I recall correctly, then I think you once told me you’d kill it yourself.” Roxas gave a comfortable hum as if savoring the memory. “If you still intend to I’d like to watch. No pressure, though. You seem so content as is.”

“But anyway,” and he turned his tattooed back toward Axel. “I see you haven’t been particularly interested in practicing your dark magic. Pitiful considering you’re even stronger than me. Well, maybe you are.” A quiet laughed followed that, and Roxas glanced over his shoulder. “You’d think that after seeing what the cult is capable of, then you’d find it in your heart—” Roxas interrupted himself to laugh at the entire concept of Axel having a heart. “Then you’d find it in your heart to learn how to defend not just yourself, but your pretty little family in the making. You do realize that just because your potential is immense it means absolutely nothing if you can’t control it worth shit, right? You’re like dynamite unlit. You’re the nuclear weapon without a human being. God, humans…” Roxas sighed at the thought. “Humans aka the ruin of the great Axel Christ.” At that Roxas suddenly allowed his expression to ice over. “You’re one stupid son of a bitch, Axel. I can hardly believe I let you stick your dick inside me so many times. What an embarrassment.”

Without any sense of warning, Roxas threw his cup at Axel only to revel in the wave of pure light that went straight for the man’s skull. There was the sickening sound of it crackling into the man’s brainwaves only for it to be followed by the thud of a massive demonic form falling onto his hardwood floors. Staring at the passed out Axel with an unimpressed leer, he snapped his fingers and arched an eyebrow as the man’s body levitated. Roxas turned on his heel and continued toward the stairs, Axel’s seemingly lifeless form following him up as he made his way toward the room with the hectogram, holy water rubbed chains and nails.

"Be a good girl and watch for Daddy, hmn?" Roxas cooed at his Sphynx cat who dutifully padded toward the front door.

#d4y5

✝ Crucify ✝

There wasn’t much of a reason for it. Not that he wasn’t aware of the fact, but he was bored enough to toy with his own limitations that were typically nonexistent. Due to their equal association with the cult Kilgore had been more than aware that Axel Christ would take his call. Whether or not he was enthusiastic about it didn’t hold much merit to Roxas because all he needed was for him to show up in that midnight black Firebird with its familiar chain wheel he had been so ruthlessly fucked against more than once. Those memories seeped onto his tongue with tangy bitterness, which was why he was capable of shoving them into the core of forgetfulness with less than a blink of an eye.

Axel was a fermenting piece of his life he had done his best to eradicate, but there he was still breathing. Not only was he breathing, but he seemed to be doing it contently with that blonde cunt that had effortlessly destroyed the entire world he had built with Axel. Blood lust stirring with blood lust and they could fillet a body side-by-side while allowing laughter to mingle between them; Roxas knew that was happiness. The mutual understanding was something Roxas had never experienced until Axel tumbled into his life, and he had been swayed because of youthful impressionism. A mistake he had made that Roxas assumed they’d put behind them only for Axel to turn around and cheat twice as hard with cruel intentions. For reasons unknown to him the thought still made his bottom lip quiver. Maybe it was because he had assumed Axel had forgiven him and intended on helping him with his heart eating addiction, but he had assumed wrong. He had been wrong in the kind of way that left him abandoned in a home once shared by two. The loneliness created carelessness where blood festered in bathtubs and candlewax dripped into enormous piles he could only deal with by adding onto. Long before Axel had returned with that promise on the beach Roxas had fallen into a continuum of self-loathing. Now, he had morphed the self-loathing into a berserk sense of hatred where he didn’t think twice about ripping the fetus from Roxas Marx’s vile uterus and sawing Axel’s neck clean off his torso while blood spurted from his like geysers.

The investment in Axel Christ had gone from admiration and almost a mentorship need to tedium induced misery. It was why he had spent a majority of the morning drawing a neat hectogram on the flooring of his studio with chalk. There was nothing to conjure but his own amusement, and he had dragged his tongue along the roof of his mouth while fleetingly laughing as he wove together sharpened nails until they made a single neat crown of ‘thorns.’ He had placed his arts and crafts project beside thick nails and single hammer with another complacent giggle because the entire situation was so amusing to him. Axel Christ was going to find out just how close to God he could become, and the longer he thought about it the more he laughed until tears sprung to his eyes and he could only smooth his fingers through his dirty blond hair.

There was no love left for the redhead, but there was a form of worship where he wasn’t afraid to make the demonic entity his own idol. Roxas couldn’t wait for Axel’s form to begin decaying through the wood working. He would rot into the hardwood floors and the stench of decay would dribble down onto his etched into kitchen table. The scent of corpse would permeate throughout his home, but the death would be pleasantly slow. Starvation and dehydration would occur, which was all so pathetic. Axel was supposed to be a demon lord’s son, but he had cultivated his human side when he had once been so close to the enlightenment of hell. Roxas could only roll his eyes as he stood beside his window and waited on the man. Soon enough he would be picking the leathery flesh off bone and thoughtlessly roll it between his thumb and forefinger. Maybe even make a necklace from the remaining threads of brilliant hair. Sometimes he thought about what the taste would be like because Roxas was more than partial to human flesh. The concept made him hum with a pleasant little smile, and he stirred his cup of coffee with his fingertips before taking a quick sip.

#d4y5

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