#mugenno

The day you finally fucking leave me alone is the day I get on my knees and stare at the sky and scream colors don't exist. Rip my eyes out so I'm blind to them and praise whatever god keeps you away from me. That's the long question.

send me a word & learn about my muse's physical features.

  ＢＡＤ ＥＮＤ: ＳＴＡＲＴ‼‼‼‼‼

              Okay. This is what it’s come to.

{ incompatibility. a moral choice notwithstanding; the promise of a future torn to shreds between painted fingernails. she’s holding the gun like a bad movie criminal, elbow tucked neatly in to side, anger on cheeks like painted recipie. they were going to have the world. pixels, maybe. stupid choices ahoy. but it would still have been theirs, pursuing art museums until their eyes reeled. but he had to go and fuck it up, maybe, because that was his middle name and he didn’t know how to make a choice. he shrugs at her. }

              Okay. I—you’re mad, yeah. I-I deserve that. Your anger. But—Aiko-chan, please, please put the gun down. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so s-sorry.

{ charming was his forte, cheating his placecard, wrath the lipstick she put on in the morning. there’s a stony sort of charm in her eyes but he knows it’s a sick sort of amusement, a grim expectance of him, the disappointment of the church and state. he sighs, runs a hand through his hair like these aren’t his last minutes but his insides tremble, crescendo of the orchestra as the paragon’s song begins to end.

it’s quick, it’s unexpected. he’s about to get another word in when she pulls the trigger and bullet pierces flesh, unyielding, straight through his chest. his spine is shattered by the force, decimated (and even if he expected to live through it he wouldn’t walk again, her hate literally crippling.) he gasps, ragged, blood slashing into his mouth, body slamming against the floor. ragged breathing, shattered ribs. she shoots again, for good measure, in the throat.

it takes him fifteen seconds to die after that, glazing gaze locked onto her cherubic features. there’s a sort of spiteful remorse, but it’s stained blood-black setting in, fading the corners. if this were good spirits she’d laugh and say scene close, curtains down! he gurgles and the red fills his mouth, copper burn and deep.

“Hey,” she starts, cymbal silence breaking in the perfect acoustics of their auditorium, shatters of fabric covering her legs like hessian scars, hair held up in six different knots just to keep it away from her face. “Hey.”

She taps her foot out where it rests on the director’s legs, wobbles the makeshift table balanced on her ankles. Tidy feet, messy feet, tidy feet. Her stomach hurts. She’s probably hungry - light filtering down from the overhead only, windows as black as the day they were born.

"Sensei."

They’ve not eaten in a while, if she remembers it right. Typical, though, cut off from the nagging whimsies of theater hands and classmates while the doors stay jammed shut, almost obvious that a steady lunch schedule would be the first to go. She’s rambling to herself. She flexes her toes again and giggles as Aiko’s eyes finally meet hers.

"I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad we’re here, that it’s us, that of all the gin joints in all the world you rolled into mine with an Ibsen tucked under your arm. I’m - no, shut up. This is my speech, not yours. I don’t - I don’t really make sense. To a lot of people. They never think about the stories, do they? But you do. You do, so, I’m glad that I met you. You’re probably the only other person in the world who can go toe-to-toe with me on references and callbacks and colours."

Aiko doesn’t say anything, but Akazome knows she understands. Aiko doesn’t say anything, but Akazome knows she feels the same. Aiko doesn’t say anything. She hasn’t since she died.

Her hair’s soft, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt it before. He smiles against it as he pulls her closer, a sweet sigh against her neck as he kisses it gently. His fingers creep up to her throat, stroking it lovingly as he speaks. They trace over a scar, then come back to smooth skin.

Sorry the procedure left such a big scar Ai-chan. It was a lot of work removing that voice of yours. I’m kind of sad, I can’t listen to your sweet, melodic voice anymore but..This is so much better. Just holding you in my arms with thins so quiet. Hey, are you screaming right now? I bet you are, you can’t help being scared. I know you love me though. 

His hand grips the skirt on her, he’s dressed her so beautifully. For acting out this play with him, lead girl is mute. Finds love in her first crush after parting with him in elementary school. He chuckles as his other hand twines in hers, perfect girl.

It's been unusual, but he used to see passerbys trying to make sense of the rubble that was left of that part of the prestigious school. Some called themselves "friends", some "enemies". He turned most of them down, either way. 

IM LAUGHING BC SHES ABOUT TO DIE