"Owoooooo! Who is that I see walkin' in these woods? Why, it's Little Red Riding Hood. Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are looking good. You're everything a Big Bad Wolf could want." {Original Character RP Blog affiliated with Unitate Elementul}
The rare moments that the both of them were quiet, each busy with their own thing. The Assassin polishing his numerous daggers and the Thief was focused on bandaging his wrist, having cut it open in a fit of rage. Cain's attention was solely focused on his own activity, checking if the bandage was tight enough by bending his wrist now and then-it was the voice of Aria that broke through Ā the silence.
"So--you seem awfully calm today." A ghost of a smile lingering on those lips, eyes flickering with hidden mischief. The Wolf didn't immediatly respond, letting out a sigh before he dropped his hand on his lap, gaze rising to look at the male. " --Calm before the storm." A shrug and once again his gaze lowered towards his hand, finding the itching of the fresh wound annoying. Scratching wouldn't help though the layers of bandage preventing that.
The Sparrow seemed content with that answer, focusing on his own task though that was a mere facade. He did wonder why the much taller male was so quiet today most of the time it never mend anything good. Cain was a loud individual, constantly talking or flashing others wicked grins so for him to stay quiet when he was alone with the bird was quite odd.
"--Will that storm...involve me?" Did he ask eventually which made the Wolf look up, and there it was, a grin adorned thin lips. "Perhaps but then again, you need a break once a while. I don't want you gone yet, silly bird." He leaned forward to flick the other's forehead which earned him Ā a groan and a semi-scowl. The Assasin twirled a knife between his fingers, rising it to aim at the Thief's neck, the tip barely touching skin.
"We never talk. " Leaning forward he dragged his fingers over the strong jawline of Cain while the tip of the blade pressed against the soft, exposed neck, a tiny drop of blood appearing. "Tell me what you think of me and if I like the answer I might not slit your throat."
A loud, boistorous laugh spilled forth from the Wolf's lips-he angeled his head backwards, creating more room for the knife to be dragged across his skin he licked his lips. "Why suddenly an interest in that? Talking aint necessary." Words he should have never said for the blade finally broke through skin, piercing the weak flesh. Slanted eyes widened before they narrowed again, he wanted to rise his dominant hand but it seemed that the bird foresaw that and held it down.
"Not today, Wolf." Not moving the knife any further he looked up at him-a feigned innocent smile lingering on his face. "Now, don't make me ask it again. Tell me what you think of me."
The anger was evident on the Wolf's face, lips tightening and muscles tensing-desperatly wanting to lash out at the smaller one and the fact that it seemed that the Sparrow was amused by this all just made him all the more frustated. He could have easily turn this into another fight but in all honesty he didn't feel for anything right now-laziness was sadly a dominant trait that lay dormant within the Thief.
"I think you're a fucking brat, who knows how to annoy me each and every day. There is nothing special about you maybe except the minor detail that you put up with me." Wriggling his hand loose he reached out to wrap his fingers around the very blade that was held against his throat-pressing them against it, breaking his own skin. "I like to keep you around me because--." Moving his bloodied hand to place it on the pale cheek of Aria he continued. "You still my hunger. The only one who can do that. Feel special, idiot."
Chuckeling the Sparrow lowered the blade, lifting his own hand to settle on the small cut on the Thief's neck, tapping it softly before he brought it back to his own lips, licking away the blood-flashing a teasing smile at the other. "You're lucky today." Laughing softly he pressed his hands on the Wolf's chest, pushing him backwards to the ground so he could lay a top of him.
"--And so are you." Cain responded allowing the bird to further wound him if he so wanted. Today he would simply take it but tommorow everything would be back to normal and he would make sure to punish the Sparrow severly for daring to behave like this. Today--he could simply sit back and enjoy....
Sometimes you werenāt mend to find happiness, no matter how hard you tried. There was no such thing as a āhappy ever after.ā It was all but an illusion created by pathetic people who craved for some sort of anchor in their life.
There is something called a temporary happiness though and that is where our story starts. Two quite different yet perhaps equal souls had found each other through a path of death and decay. A wolf and a sparrow, unlikely to ever cross paths less linger around each other had found a way to get their fake happiness. The word fake is used because that is the base of their lives, their attraction and their way of dealing with it. To never drop the mask of deceit and always up for a powerplay.
So when after another night of blood, cuts and shouting the two of them laid down on the make shift bed the Wolf started to wonder. Did he desserve any of this? Did a creature like him desserve any time with a Sparrow? His whole life he had been searching for someone to replace that gap his father had left. A gap he created himself by doing the unthinkable-then again that would have been the only way the man would have loved him so he had no choice. Staring at the wooden ceiling he could hear the even breath of his 'lover'-at times he could hear it hitch and then a small yelp would follow, probably because of the freshly acquired wounds.
Cain would move his hand towards the other, placing it on those bare legs and stroke it softly before he would dig his nails in it-his body would turn to take the other into a rather dominating hug. Changing the whole meaning of bigger and smaller spoon. Pressing Aria against his chest he would whisper words, words that the other wasn't allowed to hear.
Lies, broken promises and the notion that he would leave him. Each and every night the Wolf would say the same. First devouring the bird, ripping his clothes apart, dragging his tongue over angled curves and bite on every inch of flesh. Never would he tenderly kiss him nor offer him comforting words. One of those nights, as the other lay under him, he moved his hands to wrap them around the noirette's neck, squeezing it softly.
"You're just a replacement." Head would be lowered, so eyes the color of the night would pierce through those wide eyes.
"You mean nothing to me." Lies spilled forth from a liar.
"You're not even good enough to let me forget about him." Whispers laid out for the bird to hear. The look of suprise and shock was evident in the others eyes. Even if he had known that what was going on between them had no real value nor was something that should be clinged onto, he would always return. The Sparrow needed the Wolf as much as the Wolf needed him. Though tonight an end would be brought to this.
Fingers lost their grip, hands were brought back to the Wolf's side. A look of defeat crossed sharp features. It was clear as glass-the emptiness he felt from deep within could never be filled. Not even by his most valued possession. All was for nothing. Emptiness. Closing his eyes, he moved away from the male, sitting on the edge of the bed-burrying his face in his hands. It didn't matter how many times he would a new toy-nothing would satisfy him.
So when the bird had moved up to wrap his bloodied arms around his waist and placed his head on his shoulders-there came no response from the Wolf. Not untill hushed words were spoken into his ears.
"I know. I will never be a part of you. I know but it is for that reason that I am here. Use me as you fit till you I can no longer be anything." Even as the Sparrow spoke those words made the bird's insides turn upside down. It wouldn't matter what he would try or do-never would he achieve what he had wanted after walking into this bittersweet trap.
Own the Wolf.
Here is where the story should end. The Wolf will always be blind to what he has, always wanting something more but nothing will still that desperate hunger he feels till he no longer has that one thing that actually keeps him alive. For the Sparrow he can escape the cage as much as he wants, recover from every wound but never will he realize that he is blinded by his own desir.
Two individuals desperatly wanting more than life can give them will always end up with nothing. So when their story finally ends it will be everything but a happy ever after.
A blade, glinting in the sunlight, sliced through the air. And Lethe swore. He rememberedĀ wieldingĀ a sword with ease, he remembered becoming exceptional at it, he remembered all the skills his master taught himābut just remembering it, did not mean he could do it.Ā
Magic was not his forte, and now neither was swordsmanship. If someone were to full out attempt to kill him, they would likely succeed. And he knew, he should at least try to match up to his rank, practice a spell from that magic book he hadnāt touched in weeks.Ā
He knew what he should do, but that didnāt mean he would do it. At least he looked like he was as good with a sword as he was before.Ā
Something sounded behind him, and as if by instinct, the point of his blade endedĀ preciselyĀ at their neck. He stood silent for a moment, as shocked as the other person. Whoa, where did that come from, sure he could do that beforeābut not now.Ā
āOh, uhm, sorry about that.ā The katana slid back into herĀ sheathĀ with a click, he wasnāt sure if he could have kept holding it without his hands shaking. āI didnāt mean to, itās justāyou surprised me.ā
Then he noticed who stood before him, and his curiosity was struck. āYouā¦ look familiar. Have I met you before?ā
It was in his behaviour, his instinct to search out for trouble, for any sort of entertainment-today would be no different. So when he spotted the male not far away from him, practising his sword skills, the Wolf creeped closer, no intention to strike yet. Narrowed eyes roamed over the other's features, hair, waist and eventually ended at those slender legs. Smiling softly (not so softly) to himself he took one step closer though what happened next was certainly not what he expected and as a response Ā his dagger was brought close to the male's stomache-the tip lightly pressing the fabric of his shirt.
"--Suprised you? I hardly did anything." He grumbled before lowering his own weapon-tucking it in the holder he wore around his waist. Pushing his hands in the back pockets of his pants, one leg was bended as he shifted his weight onto his other. Casually forgetting about the earlier happening and giving the male a somewhat puzzled look-brows rising.
"I don't think so? Unless you and I had some nightly fun one day but I doubt it..." Those never survived after all. Clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, eyes lowered to stare at the katana before they rose again to settle on fair features. "Anyway, were you trying to brush up your skills? You didn't seem very sure of your cause." A low chuckle soon followed by a wicked grin as he took a few steps forward, passing the long haired male and staring off in the distance. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, teeth were bared.
"You are capable of fighting with a sword right?" Sudden interest growing.
what would you do, if aria left you for someone else?
Slanted eyes narrowed at such a thought though lips had curved up into a wide smile-one almost ātooā happy. Such a ridiculous notion, his little sparrow would never leave him and if he didā.
āWell I would simply remind him who he really belongs to but not before I take the life of the idiot who he supposedly choose over me.ā Dragging his tongue across his lips he raised his hand, fingers curling into a fist before he opened them again-gaze locked on his hand. āI would make the sparrow watch how I slowly take the bastardās life. Skin him like he were a mere animal, cut his flesh in pieces, pull out his intestines and thenā.ā Eyes grew wide with bloodlust, every ounce of reason having left them.
āāFeed it to my Sparrow. I mean he left me for the other right? He must have thought the other was better than me right? Loved him more?Well then fucking eat him! Become one with the bloody fool and when he is stuffed and full oh thatās when the real party starts. ā His mind was racing, breathing getting heavier the mere thought that the other could leave him bringing him on edge, paranoid-unstable. Gaze went from left to right, shifty as if they did not know where to focus on.
āI wonāt hurt the sparrow immediatly though oh I would never dare to. Iāll welcome him back with welcome arms, allow him to lay on my chest-feel my warmth and when I force him to lay with me Iāll simply cut off the one thing he feels pleasure with, the one thing that makes him a man. Canāt have him still having that organ after leaving me right? Who knows what he did with the other.ā A feigned look of concern played on his features. āI am just watching out for himā¦he is mine after all.ā And that is when he chuckeled, first softly but gradually it build up in volume. Wrapping his arms around his waist he swayed from side to side, eyes closed and the most happiest albeit maniacal smile had settled on his lips.
āAria, my precious Aria.ā The name rolling over his lips, the first time he ever said it aloud. āDonāt you ever dare to run away from me~.ā He hummed-lost in his own thoughts once again. The fact remained though that no one would be unscatched after leaving him. No one. So if the Sparrow dared to he would simply punish him. Not immediatly but he would plan it all out, it didnāt matter if it would take months. In the end he would get his pleasure and his birdie would be six feet under. No worries though Cain would have something to remember the other. Though what that is will be left for you to wonder.
Iām a killer
Cold and wrathful
Silent sleeper
Iāve been inside your bedroom
Iāve murdered half the town
Left you love notes on their headstones
Iāll fill the graveyards
Until I have you
Moonlight walking
I smell your softness
Carnivorous and lusting
To track you down among the pines
I want you stuffed into my mouth
Hold you down and tear you open
Live inside you
Oh, love Iād never hurt you
But Iāll grind against your bones
Until our marrows mix
I will eat you slowly
Ohhhhh
The horror of our love
Never so much blood pulled through my veins
Ohhhhh
The horror of our love
Never so much blood
Dark crimson color flowed all over his form and over the wasted land he was standing on. Worn boots digging into the dirt as grey pants were tainted black matching the dirt like substance that covered his arms and face. Breathing heavily the Wolf fell down to his knees, hands clasping the grit, nails digging into the dirt as his hair fell down over his shoulders, over his face, hiding his expression behind a black veil.
A coughāwhat was this? Blood trickeling down from his lips? Arms are shaking as they tried to keep up the weight of his upper body. Yet eyes were wide-glowing, madness and anger reflected in them. A hint of utter joy hidden behind pallid pupils. Slow and calculated the Thief moved to the side, gaze casted over the equally tired and worn body of Ā his prey. They had been fighting for what seemed hours. The calculated moves of the Sparrow and his deadly arsenal of blades had ripped the Wolf's flesh, traces and trails of blood coating his body.
The Wolf at his turn had cornered the bird, digging his claws into that soft flesh, blades cutting through flesh and powerful muscles breaking bones. The stench of death and insanity was all over them, both of them tapping into their last resources. A movement from the side and the male caught a glance of the Assassin getting back to his feet albeit shakingly, armed once again and for that moment Cain wondered, how much weapons did the bloody bastard carry with him?
"I despise you.." He hissed-but in every word that left his lips was the hidden truth. The truth that he was mesmerized by this man. So much that he had to die. That's how it worked with the Wolf. If you managed to get him interested in you, he would hunt you, follow you-claim you as his own till he would come to the conclusion that you could only love him in death for life would restrict you too much.
There it was, the grin that could match his own. The low chuckle that errupted from that small body and those nimble digits that held so tightly on their weapons. So Cain stood up, feet stumbling till he regained his balance and that was when he leaped forward-discarding his primary weapon and lurching forward with a small yet deadly dagger. The two hunters met halfway, their weapons clinging against each other, expressions mad and filled with bloodlust. Both wanting the other yet life stood in the way. This was their last chance.
The Assassin's eyes grew wide for a moment-his body stiffening, a cough bringing about spatters of blood. Cain moved his body downwards, forcing that of the other as well. The Sparrow's arms fell down to their sides but he did not give up. Eyes rolled to the side to gaze at their attacker, a hint of a smile curling now bloodied lips. After cough and two later the male had raised his hand, shaking digits curling around Cain's torn shirt, a weak laugh spilling forth.
"You--catched--me." Was whispered. He refused to fall down it seems, leaning heavily against the Wolf though Cain did not mind, instead he pulled the dagger back, allowing more blood to spill from the faithful wound. It all just began. Pushing the assassin backwards he gently put him on the ground, crawling over him to eventually sit down on his stomache-placing his hands on either side of the male's face, he lowered his head to gaze at him. "Yes, I did. And now it's time to get my well desserved meal..." And the Wolf bend down, bringing his right hand lower and closer to the male's shoulders, fingers gliding downwards till the found the open wound and that's when he digged in, ignoring the yelps of pain he continued to pluck his fingers in the torn flesh, nails scatching the surface-fastening up the process.
"I'll tear you apart and eat you in--bits and pieces.." A pause as his breathing got heavier, his own loss of blood catching up to him. "--You'll enjoy it all the way.." His hand searched for his dagger and he found it, it was then that a sickening grin had taken over. Bending down, mouth wide open he brought his face closer to the assassin's face, till their lips where inches apart, that's when he darted his tongue out-licking the ever flowing blood that passed his victim's lips. With a groan he crushed his lips against the other, hungrily, tongue forcing itself inside the bloodied cavern.
Simultaneously he droved the dagger once again in the bird's body, dragging it across the length of his chest. Drinking up every cough of blood that passed the man's lips all the while twisting and turning the blade inside weakened and senstive flesh, cutting it open and mutilating it. He continued to keep their mouths locked in a suffocated kiss of death. He could feel the body under him tensing till it finally relaxed, giving in to all the abuse and accepting that life was no longer there. Removing his lips from the other he could see those eyes stare up at him one last time-was that a hint of satisfaction? He could have imaginated it but he did feel the light brush of a hand against his thigh, a final touch of someone that would never live again.
His dearest Sparrow had died.
Eyes were closed as hands were brought up to his face, his body shaking from the laughter that was rising from deep within. High, crazy, insane-everything that would come to mind. He continued to laugh. Just like his father this Sparrow would now be able to love him in death, just like it was supposed to be. He rolled away from the other's body, settling down beside him-head lolled to the side to stare at the bloodied mess.
Lashes lowered to eventually hide coal colored hues, his own body relaxing and perhaps drifting away to a well desserved nap. It was then that he lifted his hand up, searching the still warm one of the assassin to lace their bloodied fingers together. It was then, that for the first time in his life, a peaceful smile adorned his face.
āY-yeahā¦.like clothes. You hang āem up in the closet, and organize them by color and by styleā¦.but I-I donāt think Iād fit in there. So I donāt think we should hang me or you in the closet please.ā {/That smile, it was worse than the queenās because at least when she was displeased Lillian could see it plain as day. Well at least now she was learning that the people of Der Wolfe werenāt as friendly as she thought, they were meanā¦.like wild dogs, like wolves. And the princess didnāt know how to handle that.
He said for her not to cry, but she couldnāt help it. Not when he was scaring her so much, that creepy smile, the invasion of her space, and then he pinched her! It really hurt too! He said she would need them for later, so that just meant her encounter would get worse from here on out. Which only terrified her even more to the breaking point of where the child began to cry, more whimpering could be heard from her as her shivering became more violent beneath his grasp.}
Another chuckle. "Oh, I think you'd fit in well. Because little girl, I wouldn't hang you like one would hang their clothes! I would hang you on a rope! Wrap it around your neck, the other end around either a tree or any high surface and bam! Your precious little neck will snap and your lifeless body will swing from side to side!" A gleeful smile crept on his face, never breaking eye-contact. In his own twisted mind he didn't realize that saying this would surely worsen the situationThe expression on his face didn't change-not even when she started to cry, if anything it amused him.
When had been the last time that he had seriously invested some time in tainting some children? The last time he could recall was when he had been in the orphanage and harassed the younger ones. The Wolf kept his hands firmly on her shoulders, grip never faltering as she began to shake under his grasp-it was then that he did the unthinkable. Scooting a bit closer he forcefully pushed her against his chest, keeping her in a tight grip, a suffocating hug. "Shh. Don't waste the tears, don't make me speed up the process and tear your little body apart after I had my way with you. So, hush little Princess, mhmm?."
The moment his wolf appeared, he knew. And he smiled, tilting his head back as his eyelids fluttered closed. He would wait, for the thief to move first. He would stay, observing his surroundings. With his back toward the hunter, his eyes would be of no useāuntil he needed them. So with the wind, he listened. The air danced around him, as if biding to his willābut it would only be moments before it betrayed him, and that he knew.
To hisĀ predictions, it did. The daggers flying through the air, he did not hear them until they were too close for comfort. They made no sound as they cut through the air, until they were mere meters from slicing his flesh. It was unexpected, for the Wolf to use throwing bladesāmuch like his own. From what he had observed, the manās build was that from a close range fighterāwell built muscles and powerful strength, fit for driving a blade through skin and bone.
But as he had trained, as an assassin, he knew to expect the unexpected. So it was with fluid grace and light stepsāthe daggers flew through the space he once occupied.Ā
His eyes snapped open, and his blades flashed out. His waist, his belt, his legs, he had weapons concealed everywhere. And within his hands, held two twin bladesāhis favourites. Too long to be daggers, two short to be swords. One held heavy in his hand, coloured in black, one build for defending. The other, forged fromĀ platinumĀ thin as paper, would slide through flesh as easily as butter.Ā
Unlike the other assassins in his kingdom, unlike those who took out their targets concealed from afarāAria aced in close combat fighting. After all, it was much more fun with targets who fought back, who thought they stood a chance.
Metal met metal in a clang, and for just a second before he drew backāhe came face to face with the thiefāand matched the other manās grin with one of his own.
āWouldnāt it be boringāif the prey went down without a struggle? Without leaving something broken, without drawing blood?ā His eyes flashed, as he lunged again. āI would hate to be boring.āĀ
With force did he brought his hand down, the sound of metal piercing through the air-pushing, wanting to force the other's blade downwards, away from his personal place and closer to that of the other. In those mere seconds their eyes had met, he could practically feel the hot breath of the assassin on his face and what he saw did not dissapoint. A tainted grin, filled with sadistic and animalistic delight. Deep within his chest a laugh rumbled forth-heavy and taunting.
"Oh so boring. Nothing beats the scent of blood and the sight of torn flesh!" He hissed out hungrily. A toy to play with must always provide some sort of entertainment. A challenge, thrill the mind and body and luckily this perfect piece of flesh was just that.
He drawed his right hand back, his primary sword hand, to bring up his left, meeting the sparrow halfway as the other had lunged forward again, defending himself from getting hit in the most vital point of his body, the lower organs. He could feel how the sharp tip of the blade had grazed his skin, cutting the surface, in his Ā initial defense but it were quick reflexes that stopped it from ever hitting a point and kept it at bay. Metal once again meeting and clashing.
His right foot had been placed behind his body, allowing his back to arch a bit to eventually move forward and get the much needed momentum to push the smaller male back, using his upperbody strength-becoming engaged in a weapon power struggle.
Slanted eyes, for a moment lowered, taking sight of an opening-near the Assassin's upper leg. Finding that the right moment, Cain brought up his right hand and lunged it towards the leg. Disabling one's crucial and vital points and discarding their weapons, he was trained in it and as much as he was an aggressive fighter that most of the time simply relied on his own body strength and it's destructive nature-he did carry the traits one would expect of a Thief.
Speed, agility and quick reflexes. So while he held off the Sparrow's initial attack with his other hand, his dominant one went for the damage. Mend to cut through the noirette's leg and sever the arteria, to deal the most beneficial damage. Fighters relied on their legs did they not?
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