Ne me mori facias

hey daddy, i'm okay. living my love in a serious way

[dismal-orange]

[sundayycameundone]

lkwhtfrd:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” - Charles Dickens

just finished this up, im so into hands these days!

L. Whitford, 2015

[sundayycameundone]

//So, is it in bad taste to want to do out of timeline shit with this guy?

[alittlecurse-deactivated2016110]

And his heart aches, not with sadness, but with joy at the thought that there can be so much beauty of so many different kinds in a single world. They have been blessed. And so has he.

J. Michael Straczynski, Silver Surfer: Requiem (via alittlecurse)

[somberpapi]

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[sundayycameundone]

Wonder if you bendin' over backwards for someone else Wonder if you're rollin' up a backwoods for someone else Doing things I taught you, gettin' nasty for someone else You don't need no one else You don't need nobody else, no Used to always stay at home, be a good girl You was in the zone

[mvxnvdn]

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[sundayycameundone]

White lines, pretty baby, tattoos. Don't know what they mean, They're special, just for you. Come on down to Florida, I got somethin' for ya. We could see the kilos, On the keys, baby, oh yeah. Guns in the summertime, Drink a cherry cola lime. Prison isn't nothin' to me, If you'll be by my side.

[sundayycameundone]

There's intense gravity in you. I'm just your satellite. Though they may wash my feet. They do not make me complete. There's only you I need.

Spoon “Inside Out”

[undead4ever-blog]

[godcrossesthrough]

Read More

[ogsdcoke-deactivated20161231]

[sarcasticsymphony]

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[sundayycameundone]

Silent knife, unholy knife I've fallen for the black outside my window

[bloodredecho]

 Red turned his face away a split second too late, his eyes closing around the image of Holy’s face twisted and grotesque with pain. Image freshly scorched into his mind, he squeezed Holy’s hand as the Individual warmed against his. He wished the weapon felt more foreign to him now then it did. Because he couldn’t help but think about every other life he’d ended, how simple it was to kill, how easy it’d been to put to death countless numbers of people. None of them had been this grateful, or this willing, or even this utterly broken, but it was the same act… the same crime. He’d never once hesitated to pull the trigger before. He’d never had to. 

Although, now, he couldn’t even really say he was even doing that. He was lifting the gun as if caught in a trance, already pointing it in Holy’s direction with his fingers fitting perfectly into place like they always had. Killing him didn’t have to be hard… it was what he was good at. What he was made for. Saving people, making martyrs out of them. And it was what Holy wanted, he said he was happy…

… After a moment, the gun lowered. He shook his head. Why did saving him have to mean losing him too…? “Just a second,” he mumbled hastily, the gun dropping from his shaking fingers like he’d forgotten how to hold it. He started climbing on top of him instead, careful to avoid his injuries and the gore it’d left behind, gingerly straddling his hips and ignoring the way cooling blood seeped into the legs of his jeans. “I’m gonna, I’m takin’ you home… right now, Holy,” he was babbling, leaning over his body like they were in bed together again, like this was any other night. It might as well be. He was whispering promises, accepting his shambling praises, playing God like he always did. Like he always liked to. Maybe that was why…

Red cupped his face with one hand, smearing blood as he brushed a thumb along his cheek. With the other hand, he slid his dagger from his belt. “So pretty,” he murmured, his voice gentle and unwavering, his lips brushing against Holy’s, his forehead pressed to his in his best attempt to comfort what was the most beautiful boy in his eyes in that last moment. “So good… You were so good, Holy…”

Now, he didn’t know if a heaven even existed anymore, but he hoped it did. He hoped there was something beyond the hell on earth they’d both had to live through that Holy could escape to, where he could be as happy as he said he’d made him, always. He wanted so badly to even believe it could he thought he’d burst apart right there and then, and finally kissed him, as gently as he could manage through the violent pain ripping him apart. “… This will only hurt a second,” he promised and pressed the knife to his heart.

It was a last second of selfishness. He wanted the intimacy of a blade, the physical sensation of cutting him free. He wanted Holy’s mind, his body, his soul… his blood, his pain, his devotion, his faith. Everything that made him up inside, he’d constantly craved and always sought for. Even now. In all honestly, he just wanted it to last, and for Holy to be his, for just a moment longer, and a bullet would’ve been too fast… Covering his mouth with his own again, he kissed him again, ignoring the taste, ignoring the agony, and stabbed the blade down, sliding it between the bones of his ribcage and twisting fast before he snatched his hand away and clutched at him again, keeping him close and crushed against him. And he would stay like that, holding him, kissing him, until the blood stopped welling from his lips and his body went limp.

[sundayycameundone]

"Y-yeah?" Holy coughed. Even through the pain, the urgency to have Red answer one more prayer, a light managed to flicker behind pale eyes, a warming glow that came and passed with every praise the boy was given. He was happy with that. He was happy with those words and the soft touch of Red's lips to his. He was happy imagining Red taking all the breath left inside of his chest, just passed the walls of his cracked lips and broken teeth. Holy was happy Red still thought he was pretty even if he wasn't whole any more. He didn't have to be scared any more, he didn't have to worry about how he was going to get out of this. Red was here to take him home, Red was here to save him like he'd promised.

Holy would have liked to imagine he kissed Red back, that he slid his arms around the familiar curve of his body and rest his hands where they belonged, that he surged up to meet the other boy halfway and show him just how much he loved him. That was how he saw it from the back of his eyelids anyway, even long after the searing pain in his chest (in his heart) subsided and he felt a wave of something warm and thick overtake him. It started there, in his heart and bubbled up through his lips. It covered his eyes and trickled down fingers, pushing through nailbeds and seeping out onto the floor. Whatever was inside him was crawling out to cover him up completely, wrap him up in something sweet and suffocating. He was covered in red, he was staring into red and red took his breath from him.

[thatsmebarbara]

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[sundayycameundone]

Come on skinny love just last the year, Pour a little salt we were never here, Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer. Tell my love to wreck it all, Cut out all the ropes and let me fall, Right in the moment this order's tall. And now all your love is wasted, Then who the hell was I? And in the morning I'll be with you But it'll be a different kind.

[bloodredecho]

"…"

He wanted to take it back. All of it. The sting of bile shot up his throat and he wanted to puke, or scream, or laugh, or all three at once until the actions destroyed him from the inside out, and then maybe he wouldn’t actually have to do this. “…christ, Holy…” he sobbed out, shaking because he didn’t have it in him to deny him this, no matter how much he wanted to believe he could survive, no matter how much he was willing to fight for it and drag him through this and cry and plead for anything but what he was making him do.

He couldn’t help but grip him even tighter, disregarding the possibility that it could’ve hurt him to do so. He didn’t want to lose him, and every second that slipped away was another he’ll never get back, and one he’ll never have again. ”Holy,” he suddenly said again, urgently this time, like it’d suddenly dawned to him. “…I love you.” He’d never felt the need to say it before, but now… now he breathed it out like a final prayer over his body, like it was the one thing that would keep him tethered to him always. Now his soul was free of pain, he couldn’t be touched, he was pure and redeemed and his and nobody could take him away—

… At least, for that one moment. And then it passed, and Red was still left with the blood and gore in front of him, coating him, and Holy’s dying body still cradled against his. “I love you, Holy,” he mumbled again, as if the magic would return and a miracle would be triggered to help him right there and then. When it didn’t, he grimaced and bit down on the inside of his cheek, then carefully lowered Holy onto the ground again. Just for a minute, he promised him silently. He had to… find his gun…

"… Y’have to promise me somethin’, though…" He started to say, straying off to the side just barely. He’d dropped his Individual at some point in the rush and crawled across the floor to get it, finally closing his fingers around it and holding it tight to his chest. "I need to know…" He went back to his side and found his hand, squeezing it tightly in his. "… you’re happy, right? You want this?" His head lowered, face hidden under his bloodied hair. "I… I saved you, right? Like I promised? B-because I… I didn’t want this, Holy…  I wanted you okay…"

[sundayycameundone]

A large admission from Red's small voice brought a smile to Holy's cracked lips. He couldn't recall if he'd ever heard Red say it out loud before, even if it was real and true, something he could always feel. Holy had never asked for that kind of affirmation, his faith had always been there, assuring him of the things he might have wanted to doubt. But now, now he felt warmer than he had in such a very long time, since all of this had begun, the spiral towards the end that he'd always seen coming. The pain was now secondary, taking a backseat to the sight of Red's filthy hands closing over the hilt of his gun, an Individual. He sighed, weary.

"Mm." Holy's smile still stuck, even as his eyes slipped closed. For a moment he seemed calm, until he fought to take in a breath and choke out a reply to the other boy. "I'm happy," he assured, forcing his eyes back open, pale shallow orbs finding Red's face one more time. His smile cracked, widened to show teeth; it was the most genuine expression he'd held in a very long time. "M-more than you know. You're--"

Holy's fingers twitched between Red's own and he seized up in pain, expression contorting as he rode through what he knew would be the last few, brutal waves of it that he'd ever have to experience. "Y-you... You'll take me h-home, won't you?"

[17-03-94]

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[sundayycameundone]

Satan on my lips Paralyzed by his wicked kiss Taking baby sips to keep and an eye on what I might miss Will I dream tonight? There's nothing left, there is no light Need you here to be my guide Pull me out to the other side

I've dreamed a death It's mine tonight

[joeleri]

[thatgirlhal]

Visit Original Link

[sundayycameundone]

After the night when I wake up I'll see what tomorrow brings

[bloodredecho]

Red winced. “Shh… don’t,” he whispered, every fiber of his heart thrumming with fresh pain with every second of this he was forced through. This wasn’t fair, it was cruel… so cruel. He could feel the agony Holy was under on his skin as if it were the filling the air around them in a gory, pulsing aura. He could taste it. He hissed under his breath and gripped Holy’s all the tighter, as if his strength could replace what was rapidly draining from his body.

Without realizing, he started to rock back and forth, hugging Holy closer to his body, his forehead pressed to his, their noses almost brushing, their mouths close. He could feel his breath against his lips and he almost wanted to count them, or find some way to steal them out of the air and force them back inside him and keep him alive and keep him here. He started mumbling his name again, holding him tighter. “Just… say it, Holy… whatever you want, anything… y’know I’m here, I’m here for you. Just… ask.”

[sundayycameundone]

"Put an end--"

Holy groaned, taking one more labored, coughing breath. All of his earlier doubts and questions fading into the background, along with his torment and suffering. Red had pulled him close and was whispering the only words that Holy had ever wanted to hear. He was going to do it, he was going to ease all of Holy's suffering. Through the pain and his tears, Holy smiled weakly and though his vision was beginning to spot and blur along the edges, he could still make out the boy who held him and all of his radiance. "I'll be..." He whispered, breathless from the effort of raising his hand to touch Red's face. He wanted this to end, he wanted to go home, home to a bright kind of paradise that he'd prayed for all his life. Seraph had been wrong, his God was here. His God was here in the room with him and He'd been here all along. Red was here to take him away and help him to rest. Holy's heart ached for it, pulled harder than the torn flesh on his body. He needed this, he needed this so badly, but the words were so difficult to say.

Throat working as he conjured up the strength to speak, Holy leaned in and closed his eyes. He couldn't. He couldn't look at Red anymore. Holy loved Him so much, dedicated everything he had to Him and now it seemed blasphemous to see Him in the flesh, especially when he was asking. Especially when he begged.

"Please." His voice was barely there, an expulsion of breath against Red's lips.