#levianthantsunami

[cisterndeagrippina-blog]

you knoww wwhat

fuck this

equ is ready to fuckin leavve

i am more than ready to fuckin leavve

evven the cat wwants to get outta here

an like yeah the bot still needs somebody to givve it a wworkin brain but evveryone knowws you can send that shit ovver the internet an anywway vvegas is closer to cali an fuckin texas an thats wwhere evveryone wwho is fuckin anyone is

but its not about the bot its about the fact that i THOUGHT these jackasses wwanted to see me so you knoww wwhat

FUCK THIS SHIT

i havve been a lot less angry an a lot more neurotic since i wwent all browwn but a girl can only take so much you knoww this is too fuckin much i am at the end a my goddamn line ovver boys wwho say they wwant to see me an then disappear into the seafoam

FUCK THAT AND FUCK YOU BOTH

if you wwant to talk to me you knoww howw to fuckin get in touch

wwe out

[cisterndeagrippina-blog]

☠

{{I don't know if you mean Gamzee or Fefnir so... you get two deaths for the price of one}}

Once you get started, it’s just too easy. He had tried to warn her. Maybe he knew, or suspected, even though he had never known her. Rot and destruction were coiled inside him, deep, and when she cracked his bones between her teeth she suspected the marrow would taste like the purple darkness of abandoned cathedrals and the loam of rain-damp graveyards.

He spoke to her like a snake with a voice that had been bleached out by the sun or stained with the tannins of swampy soil, but she spoke too different a dialect.

It was the sound, the only sound, that carried through the dark empty spaces between stars that stretched for millions of years. It was the sound of realizing that the starlight that soaks into your open, yellow eyes comes from nuclear explosions that have long since gone cold and dead as bones.

“This should be your legacy,” she whispered, because her voice would have killed him any louder than that. “It is your bloodright. You were born for this, you have traveled so far for this.”

She smelled his terror and it lingered on her tongue like rapture. With just her hands and mouth, she would have liked to drink his brain from inside his head — it would be so full of death and drugs and that happiness.

His darkness was just that common dark that anyone can find if they skulk near ossuaries on overcast nights, but hers was the cold, impossible embrace of nothingness. She embraced him, darkness to darkness, and frightened him quite to death.

It was a very good death, she thought, very happy. Then she started in on his flesh.

~~~~

“He wwill try to stop me,” she told herself. “It’s not evven a question, it’s a fuckin’ matter a time.”

In the end it was all too easy. The guilt was well outweighed by the relief that no one who could stop her might try. The relief that she’d never have to see his face again, because they’d never be able to put it back together after what that many rounds had done to his head.

But she couldn’t shake that it wasn’t about reigniting a war at all, that maybe it had never been about a war at all. Maybe war, she thought as she knelt beside him and took his cold, limp hand in hers, was just an excuse to kill off everything he’d loved.

Because he could love the whole world, savor every moment of his now very short life. But he just couldn’t find it in him to love her.