#thcdestroyer

@thcdestroyer

             The week—all it was a few days, no more—was like hell on earth. It hadn’t been the FIRST separation the pair had suffered from, and the previous one was much worse, and it should have felt that way. However, knowing it was done on purpose peeled into his heart stronger than the six months of the unknown. Felix could have succumbed again to his weaknesses, drowned himself in a mixture of various drugs, but there was a thought somewhere at the back of his head that it could have ended in a similar way it already did. With a hospital, and another week. 

            Every five minutes felt like an hour with him not being able to distract himself with his regular dose, and one can drink only so much teas to get some sleep. Felix couldn’t say that he wasn’t somewhat ANGRY about all of it, his brain digging up an argument every few minutes why he was in the right this time; and any other time he would have STILL reached out first, unable to spend so much time alone. But now? He felt unwanted and left like an old pair of once favorite shoes. That didn’t exactly made him sad, but more bitter, deciding to suppress any healthy emotions with whatever he had in his power and pretend they didn’t exist. 

            It wasn’t until he reached out to the source Beatrix had mentioned before, and let the woman help him that he started slowly pulling himself together. It was clear that one time wasn’t enough, and slightly cleared up mind only helped him sleep better and made the mutation more manageable, but he had a LONG way to go. 

            The apartment? Trashed. WELL. Not so much trashed as a few things broken, a good analogy of what he hid inside, even though he DID try to pretend he was doing just fine, lest Beatrix decided to go back one day unexpectedly. As he laid there on his couch he realized it was far too big for him alone, even if two animals were sleeping nearby—it lacked a certain FEEL to it that his wife’s presence left; or perhaps he was just lonely. And every time those thoughts began flooding back again, he tried to remember what had been said in the hospital, remember her face and how she LOOKED at him to bubble some anger up. Sadness was an ugly feeling, making him feel vulnerable and bad, but anger was so much better to deal with. So he let it take over his heart, let his pride grow as much as the liquor coated his throat. What else was to do for a man who was LEFT instead of LEAVING? Just when he had finished his second glass of wine and cigarette smoke began to fill the living room, ashes dropping on the rather worn out coach he had made his place at, a very distinct sound of heels click caught his ears and before he knew a PAINFULLY familiar figure appeared before him. What a sight for sore eyes. No matter, he pushed himself to remain as he was, slowly moving as he knew some sort of talk was about to come. 

            “Now LOOK what the cat dragged in,” he spoke up, not bothering to even stand up. His first reaction might have been more snarky than necessary, clear mind making Felix coarser than a week ago—flashback to the days when they had just met. It was also his PRIDE that pulsed seeing her right there, a bright memory of their last meeting made him oh-not-so-friendly. One part of him knew he should have given her some credit—even though he didn’t know what exactly she was doing there, not yet, knowing Beatrix it must have taken a lot for her to show up, and that was enough for Felix to visibly swallow the bile down: put out the cigarette, get up on his feet and make a few steps towards his wife. “You’re late,” giving her a reproachful look, he made a pause that seemed to last forever, looking down once before locking hazel greens on her again, intense and analyzing.

      “What? You can hate people and STILL think they’re hot.”

      She would have liked for people to believe that her other power was to KNOW when and where she was wanted, but it didn’t work that way; it was much simpler—other people grabbed any mentions of her name and threads of people’s troubles, and brought them to her. Aglæca was just another stop, but with so many mutants around she wished to stay for longer than those times before. She had a little past here, even if it wasn’t the brightest or longest, but it was just as important, and she wasn’t going to simply brush it away and forget. 

      Brown threads fell in spirals down her shoulders and chest as she made her way into a pub, smelling of cigarettes and mixed booze. Katherine was yet to familiarize with the town, but business was business and there was no way she’d miss an opportunity to get a client, even in times like these. She was teasingly slow to get in and sink through the crowd towards the bar, ordering neat whiskey and taking a sip. Adequate. But if she wanted good alcohol, she would have stayed at home. 

       Only then, carrying the tumbler with her fingers wrapped tight round it, did she brought herself next to Beatrix, her heels clicking with a swing of her hips on each step, stopped and leaned against the wall, bright blues scanning the environment first, only the coming back to her. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” she finally spoke, “I’m Katherine.” A raised brow, maroon lips pressing to the edge of her glass; there was no rush neither in her actions nor words. “I believe we've got some business to do.”

@thcdestroyer

            He knew he shouldn’t have, he knew he could have reached out when it was going really bad, but his mind was killing him slowly before, and now it was in a speed of light—migraines came back knocking him down, psychosis settling in like an old friend. Felix couldn’t have been left unsupervised, like a child near a box of candy. When his brain started deteriorating again, he felt a moment of WEAKNESS and one thing lead to another, and.. All he remembered was him shoving a BUNCH of pills, not stopping to think whether he would wake up from this or not. No note left behind, no nothing, it was all too much, it was all too hard for him to go through. 

            Felix woke up in a hospital, beeping sound around him, needles in his veins, stomach flushed out from the chemicals he had consumed. He figured he blacked out in the middle of the town with people around him, but it was the LEAST of his concerns. 

            He had failed. And he had failed HER. 

            He didn’t even care all that much that this “healing” process now would take longer to reach, that he had made it worse for himself by a hundred times. Beatrix would be angry, that was for sure, but her anger wasn’t he was AFRAID of. What was, exactly, was her disappointment in him. Her sadness, her pain. Felix heard a time and time again, how she would fill up with unexpected emotions whenever he went downwards into the same abyss. He was a lost cause, and sometimes he wished she would just move on. 

            Felix opened his eyes, hardly breathing, pale as ever and with lips dry and cracked. Her face was the first one he saw, and pain clenched his heart. The worst part of it all was that she wouldn’t leave him—he knew. He would just have to live with the guilt right next to her. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out, turning his faze away, unable to even look at her, “I am so sorry.” But that was it, a whisper he pushed out, even though he wanted to say more than that. How he wished he was the man she thought he were, and how he wished he had the strength she believed he had. But it was all a bitter, filthy lie, and they both knew it.

DEADPOOL SENTENCE STARTERS@thcdestroyer

             Her words first brought nothing but laughter, as he turned away from his grumpy wife, and gave a light shrug continuing to do his tie. In reality, they were only four years apart, and it wasn’t much of a difference, but as always, Beatrix couldn’t help but tease him, only if for so much as a little frown between his brows, or a remark thrown right back at her. “It’s not MY problem you have an old men fetish, Beatrix,” retorted he evenly, with his voice hiding a jokingly placed mock underneath his tongue. Then, as the act had just begun, he slowly turned to her, features becoming more interlaced with feigned shock with each passing second. 

♤ meme: 20@thcdestroyer

              He sat there quietly, without moving a single muscle for a few long minutes. Bitter silence, he could TASTE it as it sunk into his skin, penetrated his veins and mixed up with blood; only to poison his heart, and the effect was immediate. It STUNG whenever he wanted to speak. Felix cleared his throat, but it was the only sound the man had made in the past ten minutes. His appearance had seen better days. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles under them, skin as pale as the day of the explosion—only now he had done this to himself. Like always, it was no surprise. HE was the mastermind behind his inevitable demise, he didn’t need any help reaching that.

             “I’ll never change. You need to understand that.” Felix with clear mind—as clear as it could be—knew that any suggestions of what she should do regarding him would be brushed off. Beatrix would never listen, stubborn as she was the woman was DETERMINED to sew herself to him, wrap her tiny body around him like a serpent if needed, and THAT was what pained him the most. 

             “There is more wrong with me than just that thing in my head; you need to understand that now, before you wake up fifteen years later regretting every s e c o n d of it.”

Hazel greens turned to the source of her voice, softening at the sight of his wife in a half of a second. Felix knew only vaguely what she was talking about, and any other day his reaction might have been maybe a little more excitable, or in any way different. But the pink little pills he threw in like multivitamins before the sun reached noon had made him more SAPPY than usual, and calmer, as his fingers reached for her waist.

“What a COINCIDENCE,” cooed she, “I wouldn’t object, but sunshine I’m pretty darn sure we already discussed that and you’re FAR more attracted to your own pretty ass than anything else. Again, no objections from me—nuh-uh, and a deal is a deal, yeah?”