#devxrare

sign.  /  accepting.  /  @devxrare

She hasn’t used sign at all this life, and yet the response flows as natural as any song —— both hand’s fingers curled, both thumbs pointed upwards.  Left hand slides down behind the right, right palm opens.  Left palm open.  Left knuckles knock against the lines of her right hand, then both hands spread outwards.  Her eyes are not sad but they are quiet, glittering and flat all at once, all and nothing.  All at once.

what do you feel?  

She repeats the movement again.  Chest always rioting with crushing boredom / the sensation of déjà vu / missing the dead and the gone / missing the person she might have been once / loving the world / hating herself / loving herself / hating the ones who hurt her / loving the ones who hurt her.

what do you feel?

❝ of all the realms that you could wander, why bother venturing back here? ❞ surely, there are countless; innumerable realities of a myriad different worlds. they could be conceivable anywhere, could they not? visit a new one every hour and still never run out? they have all of eternity stretched out before them and yet they choose to return to this earth, this continent; this filthy city on this one small island. 

               ❝ what are you? ❞ 

call ! him ! a ! monster ! / accepting

kindness, they say, like it means anything. love, like he’d thought it enough to cleanse him of his sins. but alucard has never been under any such delusion. he knows exactly what he is and what he is capable of, and he has for ages — for lifetimes, even. monster, demon, devil; a beast that blackens the earth it treads upon. RUIN AND DEATH is all that he’ll ever bring. all that he can bring. all that he ever has. ( he should have died that day on that barren field. should have died and burned for all that his weakness had wrought. ) and he laughs a terrible rasping chuckle at even the notion that any of this needed to be said. ❝  do you think this is some kind of revelation?  ❞ honestly, he’d thought the entity smarter than that.

❛ Such is the plight of prior prisoners. ❜ A story they’ve witnessed time and time again, always the once weak, often children. ( Like him, like his brother. ) ❛ But this freedom, what will you do with it now? You cannot remain volatile forever, or else you will remain just as you were then. ❜ Hurt, burdened, afraid. ❛ Regardless of your choice, I hope it makes you happy. ❜