about everything;

“let’s  not  pretend  as  if  you  wouldn’t  be  actively  cheering  for  said  perishing,”  sidri  retorts  with  a  quick  glimpse  up  to  her,  “and  i  doubt  you’d  be  the  only  one  there  hoping  for  it.  celene  has  earned  herself  more  enemies  than  she  can  manage  effectively,  try  as  she  might.  it’s  just   a  question  of  who  is  wielding  the  knife  when  it  pierces  her  back,  not  when.”  a  small  pause  and  teeth  tug  over  full  lip,  “the  dog  can  come,  so  long  as  you’re  not  the  one  with  the  knife.” 

quill  is  pushed  aside  with  a  long  sigh,  ink-stained  hands  lifting  to  rub  at  her  face  in a  rare  display  of  exhaustion.  such  gestures  are  reserved  all  but  solely  to  her  company, allowed  in  the  presence  of  that  unspoken  and  unshakeable  bond.  (two  halves  of  a  whole,  she  thinks  sometimes,  the  broken  edges  of  her  aligning  with  pros’  own.)  “the  game  is  a  stupid  luxury  for  people  with  more  time  and  money  than  common  sense.”  hands  lift  to  rub  at  her  brow  now,  fingers  sinking  into  tight  flesh.  “but  at  least  i’ll  have  you  to  save  me  if  the  stupidity  becomes  overwhelming,  hm?”

pale  hands  lifts  to  gently  cup  sharp  cheekbone,  gaze  solemn  but  warm  as  it  meets  the  warden’s.  “thank  you,  pros.  i  know  you’ll  be  miserable,  but  i  can’t  tell  you  how  much  i  appreciate  it  that  you’ll  endure  it  for  my  sake.” 

❛❛   it is   only   her own fault she has earned enough enemies to find multiple knives pressed to her throat.   had she not purged the alienage,  she wouldn’t have even half the enemies she had now.     (..)     what  if  the  dog  has  a  knife?   ❜❜     nose scrunched;   paired with a long sigh.     (void-bound; normally vacant but never now/for her).     sharp brow raised,   poised arch of her face.     half slumped,   curled grin.

possessed by this reality,       thick tongue bloated in her mouth.    insensate-being,   honey eyes pouring glassy and vivid;    swollen   peached   lips.    how can you   love   so longingly?    as if   aching   to devour,   the very air haunted with it.    embodied to trembling hearts & tasteless cherries.    a hand rested   heavy   ’pon his shoulder;    other   hovering   near his cheek.    i  could  give  you  everything.

under  hands,   beneath  lips.    every inhale and exhale,   as if   you   could die   right  there.    warm breath curling to his neck,   clung like a  second  skin.    an  endless  hunger  pressing each piece of her,   nectared blood drawn in pools of cuticles;    somewhere rotten and sticky.   (   i  could  eat  you.   you  have  no  idea  how  much  you’d  love  it.   )   as   if   the scrape of nails isn’t enough,   a poorly demanded salvation from the tender curve of his flesh.    a  desire  born  impossibly  hungry.    restless and relentless,   a decay so gentle and softening out.

fever in her bones,       heat   consumed   her.   heavy gas in her lungs,  body elated and incandescent.   insensate with longing,   bloated tongue.   raw,  like melted fat.   he   is a means to an end,  a mere   passing.   another name,  another face,   another  victim.   all longing between her stomach and throat.   another   weak  man.

❛❛   terribly  sorry!   ❜❜     as she tears into him.   coagulated blood marred her flesh,  scent dug in and echoes of rushed hearts dominating her.   exposed insisors piercing into the jugular,  severing and all but dying black hair merlot.   nails raised,  extended and jointed from the bone,  piercing and prying open flesh;   gouging out holes.   scraping back skin,  open grazes and raw blistered wounds.     (   what  horrible  haven’t  i  done?   i’m  irredeemable.   )     it stopped being   justice   along time ago.   it’s the one with teeth in his shoulder,   limb  from  limb.   copper take on broken shins,  sadistically decomposing in her own meconium.   fucking  rotten,   like acid patterning skin.   now cadaver,  fingers   pressed   deep in his throat,  an end to screaming.     (   stupid  omnivore.   )

     ❛❛   HEY   !!   i wasn’t aware that they’d light up through my shirt  !  you should have seen the look on his face  …  i’m never going to recover from that  .  the only logical solution is to chemically blind myself  ,  so i don’t have to see that level of sheer disappointment from anyone else ever again  .    ❜❜   whinge complete  ,  head drops into the cushions  ,  offending garment having been tossed to the ground almost immediately upon entry  .

     hand then raises in objection  ,  voice muffled from cradle in silk  .   ❛❛   ——   nope  ,  no  ,  it definitely does  :  when he came over while we were in the shower  .  i have no idea how the poor bastard managed  NOT  to lobotomise himself immediately after that  .  how do i still have friends ?    ❜❜  

❛❛   it was a  thin  shirt!   what did you expect?   you’re  a  detective.   you should have been able to figure that out on your own.   don’t be  so  dramatic,  sweetheart.   how often do you see him anyways?   you know what?   if he can’t get over it,  i’ll just eat him.   problem solved.   no need to blind yourself!   ❜❜     bare footed,  gentle tilt of her head and a  hum,  a darkened click.   the shadow of the evening curling in,  fingers  curling  into his hair as she draws to stand aside him.