#deathlessdamned

[firebirby]

           “   And these six things: love, property, the state, war, work, and death, are the legacy of Cain, who slew his brother and whose brother's blood cried out to heaven, and the Lord spake to Cain: 'You shall be cursed upon the earth and a fugitive and a vagabond.'    ”

                  independent & selective   mun 25+    tormented to write by Stitch.

[hellshoundtm]

“ i thought i might find you here. ”

the more he thinks about it, the more he doesn’t fucking understand why he is where he is. lux stands, tall and proud. a beacon to those that need it and for years blue has needed it   —   needed the parties and the noise and the rush of every high he could get his mouth on. burning. wild. the hound has been something constant, something unstoppable for so long that when the brakes come, he ends up with whiplash. cold; the temperature has dropped the little amount necessary so that his breath is visible at every exhale   —   steam adding to smoke as he sits and waits like some promised stray at cain’s steps. he shouldn’t be here. as time passes, he reminds himself of  this little fact. and yet he sits, quiet. lost in thought. lost in himself. the cherry on his cigarette flares as he pulls one more time but it’s nothing compared to the fire in his chest when he hears the motorcycle, when he realizes that cain is actually near. the sensation makes him pause and he knows he’s not sober   —   knows he’s far from it when he realizes that there’s actual hope in his heart. hope. something he has no business with, something he hasn’t actually had since the days of the silver city. his heart flips. he tells himself that it isn’t too late, that he could simply disappear and there wouldn’t be anything but a stamped out cigarette on the step to let cain know he was ever there. observant, the immortal would notice but it’s not like it would be something he’d actually dwell on   —   not like it’d be something cain would waste time thinking about. days. it’s been several days since they both crossed paths; the precinct has been abuzz with a new case that involved plenty of bodies. stress. focus. the hound has kept his distance to allow cain to play his role as marcus pierce, to let him spend his sentence in a way that blue is still trying to understand. serving humans. but refusing to get attached to any of them. marcus pierce is well respected   —   admired, spoken of so highly. they all have their versions of him. different songs. different notes. blue’s been writing his own but he keeps crossing out words, keeps getting frustrated. he’s not used to this. he’s not used to there being feelings that linger despite his poisons of choice. sometimes he thinks they make things worse. sometimes he drinks regular alcohol and frowns because it doesn’t come from one of cain’s bottles. impersonal. water, against his senses. it doesn’t hit the same. just like other people’s attention. and that’s starting to become a fucking problem. cigarette snuffed out on the bottom of his boot, the time for slipping away comes and goes as cain pulls in and removes his helmet. blue sits, stuck. waiting. watching   —   exhale almost white against night air as words are spoken. knowing. they solved the case, today. lapd’s beloved marcus, victorious once again. no doubt there were offers to go out to one of the many cop bars and drink to celebrate, no doubt there were high hopes that the other expertly shot down. a long day. more work to do. paperwork that he’s likely brought home with him   —   keeping him from being a liar. blue tries not to let this concept go to his head   —   tries not to wonder if cain also turned them down for this very reason, for a chance to come home and find the hound there again. again. a-fucking-gain. he shouldn’t be here. and he absolutely shouldn’t open his mouth   —   but he does.

“thought or hoped?” his own dilemma, teased as he pushes himself up and makes quick work of the few steps needed to end up down at cain’s level. the smile on his face is too familiar   —   too fond. happy. like a dog trying not to fucking jump and touch the moment their person ends up through the door. excitement radiates and yet blue is careful; he knows cain is run thin, that he will more than likely want some space. some peace and quiet. “i just came t’drop somethin’ off, anyway. then i’ll be outta your hair.” his hand ends up in the pocket of his jacket   —   closed around something small that he offers forward. fingers open to reveal a small rock. dark. so warm, due to his grasp. a piece of familiar pillars housing doors that cain is never supposed to see. impossibly rare. not of earth, at all   —   and a worthy addition to cain’s collection. a gift, terribly personal. words come, warm. sincere. “congrats   —    on th’case and everythin’. i know it was a pain in the ass.”

[punishmentismyjob]

Fresh Eyes

@deathlessdamned [liked] for a starter.

Lucifer set down the katana that he’d gotten from Maze’s collection and sighed, “This has been far less fun that I’d imagined. Dare I say, I’m starting to get... Bored?”

He looked up at Pierce and sighed with a shrug. “I think I need a bit of time to look at this situation with fresh eyes.”

[daedaluscried]

@deathlessdamned​

“ ... What do you want? “ There’s a sharp tone to her voice as Cy spun around, “ I don’t like people watching me! “

[ckingsbury1967]

Raising Cain - Cheryl/Marcus

(starter for @deathlessdamned )

It was early in the evening at Lux, and the nighttime crowd hadn’t yet come in.  Cheryl was taking the early shift at the piano, her fingers producing the sounds of a jazz standard that filled the semi-empty club.  She glanced up as a figure entered the area, but she didn’t recognize the man.  “Hey, hi, I’m Cheryl,” she called to him as she continued to play.  “Lucifer’s not here yet.”

[terrifiesall]

@deathlessdamned​

      “This is truly poetic. The first murderer becomes a cop. Sounds like a shitty movie.” There’s no stopping the laugh that escapes her. “Still trying to find a way to kill yourself? Or are you at the acceptance stage of grief?” 

[samaelnomcre]

deathlessdamned asked: 'Repeat after me. Plants NEED water not whiskey.'

" On the contrary, Pierce... Sometimes it does them good to get just a little bit drunk. Too much water is not good for them, after all! "

@deathlessdamned | random asks | always accepting.

[crownedinsin-a]

~ @deathlessdamned || “Try not to get yourself killed. I’m the only one allowed to do that.” ~

"Kinky. Cain, for you, that's verging on flirting." Lips curve upwards, expression etched with delight. "Don't worry about a thing, I know what I'm doing." Fingers dance up along the front of Marcus's shirt. "Although it's nice to know that you're concerned about little ol' me."