#tornsight

[survyve]

STOTP THIS IS MAKING ME LAUGH SO HARD

[amemai]

❛ You said I killed you - haunt me then. ❜

what a startling sight she must make — grisly & pale, soaked to the bone, a belly that never stops bleeding and a neck riddled in bruises that will never heal. crimson, blueish - purples, and nasty yellows contrasting the bone white face. her lips bluer than her hair. eyes that are bloodshot, fingernails caked in blood — his or hers, hard to say — from when she so desperately gripped the skin of his forearms, fighting with every futile breath. a shocking sight she made, when the people of ame found their beloved angel floating belly up like a dead fish. they wept and despaired for days, wondering who would do such a thing. they looked up and cried to the heavens asking why, asking for a name. she hears their sorrowful voices, she longs to answer them, to let them know that she has not abandoned her people entirely.

[ . . . ] but she cannot speak. you crushed her throat, you bastard. but she remembers it all. oh yes, she remembers, in this life and the next.

she could be beautiful again, if she wanted to be. she could be ethereal with still - burning eyes and a frightening, awe - inspiring wingspan of paper at her back. she could look as heavenly and vulnerable as she had with him in their very last time spent together. if he so willed it, that is. but this disturbing choice of appearance is, surprisingly, not her own to any dramatic vengeful effect. he is doing this to himself, though she doubts he is aware. and to some degree, perhaps the guilt has gnarled itself like thorny roots into his body, perhaps even if he knew he would not change it anyhow.

i am only what you made me. perhaps that is what she would say. ( or perhaps, i really did love you, shamelessly, despite the warning signs. )

her face is apathetic, her eyes have a lifeless gaze lacking fury. for this is the realm of kamui which she haunts, which he agonizes over slowly. she’s not actually here. she is a figment, a recreation of the beautiful thing that he crushed between his fingertips & only now realizes the remorse.

she has nothing to say to obito uchiha anyway, if it were her choice.

there is, however, a cruel smirk momentarily upon her face. the silent promise to do exactly as he asked mere moments ago.

[amemai]

u up?

@ KonanAkatsuki ✅ has blocked you.

🔒 [You can no longer interact with this individual account.]

[amemai]

dips her low. then places a kiss on her lips.

in one instance, she rushes down a corridor with a file in hand — the latest intel report on observations in the outskirts of amegakure, to determine if doubling patrol efforts are necessary at all — and it’s a rare opportunity in which her guard is completely lowered. her attention is directed entirely to this ( she’s waited weeks for this report, mind you. ) when something warps from the corner of her eye & all momentarily distorts. she foolishly opts to ignore it, assuming there is unrelated ongoing business. [ . . . ] oh, when will she ever learn?

then there is a solid figure obscuring her path. a strong hand bracing at her back, arm wrapped around her waist. there is a fluid motion which only he controls. one minute she is moving. the next, like dancers interlocked in a dramatic tango, he’s angled her down through a dip

“ wha — ? ” is just about all she manages, confused, yet unable to hold back the hints of a smile, before his mouth covers her own.

he tastes like rainfall, sweat & smoke. he’s been out again. where precisely, she can’t recall. perhaps she’ll bother him later about it. she likes to think that, of everyone here, it is she who can pry the words from his iron - locked tongue. she thinks of this as she teases said tongue and nips at his bottom lip. a barely suppressed sound from her lips signals the end of this childish, sneaky display. eyes close and her face momentarily relaxes, she retracts into the form of a million paper butterflies slipping away from his hungry embrace.

she solidifies in front of him, just out of arms reach. some of the paperwork recklessly slipped out, it’s swiftly collected as ember eyes never break contact with his face — equal parts flirtatious, yet a warning still. trust only goes so far, theirs is… it depends on the subject, really. — her face is a composed mask but her tone lacks the usual sternness in an authoritative voice dismissing a colleague;

“later,” she promises.

[amemai]

❛ maybe he doesn’t love you anymore. ❜ :)

the lady angel has killed for lesser insults towards her god. his word is blasphemous. her vision tunnels to the sight of his and that coy look, the teasing insinuation which mocks her dearest friend. the body acts first before the mind, without regret. a swift, precise move. hand connecting cheek -- it is the one with unscarred skin, so that she may purposefully ruin it herself -- in a manner that cannot decide between slap or fist.

in between every heartbeat it sings his name, nagato. imagines his gaunt face, his gentle smile. their happiest memories and when she knew him best. the wounded ghost that he now in a hollowed out frame & changed mindset. he may be difficult and unreasonable at his worst, but she loves him no less. there is no lacking hesitation.

it matters not that obito keeps her bed warm. another ill word referring to nagato, and she will return the favor by setting him aflame -- there exists a raging fire within her that burns hotter than his own, that even an uchiha will burn to char bone & ash.

❝   do not. ever. speak of nagato like that to me. ❞ there is no warning in her threat. there is only promise.

a promise to oust him from the shadows and sabotage all his plans. even if that notion may cost her the breath in her lungs. mutually assured destruction is a fair exchange ( a fairer punishment, for the wretched tiptoeing and conspiring that she has done ) if it means keeping him safe. ❝  don't, for even one second, delude yourself into believing that my loyalties have changed. do not ask me to choose between yourself and nagato . . . you won't like my answer.  ❞

[amemai]

❛ honesty is such a nasty habit, angel. ❜

a gloved hand cusps the edge of her chin, tilting her head back ever so slightly. forcing her gaze to his masked own. it is a display of physical affection in the closest consideration of public. . . there is, after all, always the existing chance of someone walking in upon this action. and perhaps, perhaps that is what he counts on.

( or is it that he relishes in how she shudders at the notion? / the unspoken name of whom she fears intruding. )

beneath the mask, she can envision the smugness decorated those scarred, rugged features. it had been her own fault for this. she should have never come to him, never alluded to any admittance of enjoying his presence. of yearning for more. in this distorted little chess game that they play, she has always but foolishly shouted out her next plotted move, giving him the advantage of knowledge. that which she wants most.

❝  as is speaking without thinking first.   ❞ she counters, eyes narrowing. she jerks her head back ever so slightly, freeing herself from his grasp. ❝  something you seem well familiar with. is it any wonder most people are dishonest with you?  ❞

[amemai]

one moment, he's not there - the next, he appears, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. he offers a smile and a wink, and once again, he's gone.

her thoughts were clouded, ember eyes skimming over paperwork in hand & strolling down the corridor in brisk pace. only at the very last moment does she notice the warped scenery unfold before her very eyes. it is no accident. enigmatic as the kamui portal may be, for what she fails to understand, she does know that he's unquestionably mastered it.

when her lips begin to move, to ask what he needs, his are on hers. a chaste, innocent kiss. though there is hunger in it. it ends as quickly as it begins. there is the quickest flash of a smile on that on that rugged, handsome face. a wink. not a single word uttered. he disappears so quickly it leaves her contemplative if what has just happened wasn't something from her imagination.

her lips still tingle. her index and middle finger are brought to the bottom lip, brushing lightly to feel traces of the ghostly sensation from moments ago. then, the smallest smile forms on her face.

he's around here somewhere. the pursuit begins.

[survyve]

@tornsight *

SILENCE PERMEATES THE walls betwixt which they stand . tick , tick , the clock on the wall reverberates through his thoughts . there's an ugly tension that fills his chest with its animosity & he chokes it down , down , down . now is not the time for such hatred . now , instead , is the time for battling isolation & forging new bonds ( & the work put into it would be not passive nor frivolous . it would be riddled with heart & frayed open with grit ) .

                         ❛      sorry to come here unannounced .    ❜    

he wouldn't have come , had he not forced himself in a moment of thoughts' intensities .

 ❛      i wanted to talk .    ❜ if you'll have me , he thinks , but leaves out with dry intention .