how does one know it's near the end. when all hope is lost and the pain has become too much to bear. when does one know when to finally give in, give up and l e t g o---
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independent && selective [please read a l l pages]
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"The Edge --- there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."
She mused, a soft smiling playing on her lips. He’s the same as he always was.
The Belt of stars moved closer, fingers caressed his cheeks as gently as possible. The dried blood, mixed with the soft prick of his facial hair made her fingertips tingle.
❝You know it’s not in my heart to stop caring. Especially about you — I’m not that kind of sibling.❞
"I’ve been through worse—–“
It was truth, especially for someone like this. He could be considered lucky, to be quite honest.
A grunt escaped his lips as his younger sister touched him, head moving away from her touch— just not what he wanted right now. He didn’t care for being babied— he got his ass kicked and he did his own damage. End of story.
” ——- I know and it makes me sick. Be a bad ass and go fuck something up for once.“
“You look like you got hit by a trunk. An 18-wheeler, to be exact.”
Hey, try not to forget that you asked us to say something. You never said that it had to be a nice something. But Nightmare will just plop down next to him, resting her jaw on her fist for a moment. There isn’t much for her to say — But he is a whole lot of fun to watch, if she’s being honest.
“What’s gotten your panties in a wad, hm?”
"More like a boulder— an avalanche of fuck up. Would you like to know how this feels?“
He wasn’t annoyed nor bothered by her words. Why would he be? She knew not what or who he was. At least, she didn’t know details and that was all that mattered.
” ———- I’m fucking hungry, that’s what.“ Among other things.
(Aubrey reveled in the warmth of his insides; however, when porcelain began to burn a surprised moan quickly fled her lips. Being used wasn’t something the elder was fond of, no. If she knew the extent to some of those feeble attempts, perhaps there would be more blood on her hands.
His thoughts were of no use to Violence— only the tantalizing way his face contorted in pain. It still brought great amusement to the predator, how someone so unstable could eagerly bring knowing ruin to their own figure. Such behavior reminded Aubrey of someone, but only slightly. To that she’d give no life, to that a grimace formed.
Removing her arm from his insides, Violence hissed; tearing his grubby hands from burnt flesh. Licking off the [ sweet ] crimson fluid from her fingertips; teal hues set to his as she did so. This wound would need tending to, a minor weakness in the throng of supernatural abilities Violence possessed. The inability to heal as quickly as most of her species, left for interesting results.
Raising the malicious silver again, Aubrey plunged it deeply just below his collarbones. This action happened thrice in repetition; tiny hips canting towards that of the cosmic’s. Her essence filling the room hungrily, indulgent, and clearly unrelenting. Even if the trails of burnt flesh stung, it stung properly. )
❝Don’t tell me what I like…. ❞
Even if it wasn’t shown outwardly— he knew his power had some effect, and that was all that mattered to him. Though she was the queen of pain, the queen of violence— she wasn’t immune and it was something he let be known. He was not weak— and she would slowly learn that.
But— that day would not be today. And he was fine with that. Why? Because she was giving him exactly what he wanted. For though it seemed as if he fell for her trap, for her chaotic seduction— she was also falling into his own. She craved the violence, craved his screams.
He craved the pain. He craved the feeling— whatever would rid him of the thoughts of his own end. Whatever could keep the beast within him sated. Be it his blood or another— and right now, it was his own and he couldn’t be any happier.
As the blades collided and sliced, laughs and screams alternated from his bloodied lips— spitting out crimson fluid, a grin plastered upon his face. Did it hurt? Definitely— but why show it?
" ——– Oh, but I have not to tell you. It’s written on your face, mon petit—“
He could feel her presence throughout the area— and surely his own could be feels. Full of rage, chaos— uncertainty and instability radiated and pulsed throughout.
If this were anyone else—- they’d be dead by now by the raw power surging through.
The ninth brightest star in the Milky Way galaxy. Also called Alpha Orionis, it is part of the Orion constellation.
Many believe the red supergiant is next on the list to finally explode and go supernova, even though he’s fourth on the supergiant progenitor list.
What this means for Armand?---
He is an unstable entity, as his “supernova” could happen at any given moment. It’s only a matter of time. He can be a cunt. He can be an asshole. He can be sarcastic. Or he can just not give a shit. Unfortunately, his own impeding doom takes precedence in his mind.
He is very sporadic and attentive. He doesn’t have time for stupid shit or unnecessary baggage. He lives for himself and himself alone. Will he become a black hole or a neutron star is a question he asks himself everyday.
He compares his life to standing on the edge of a cliff. When he jumps— when the supernova occurs—- will he drown and become a black hole, or will he float and try again, becoming a neutron star. It’s his life’s most important question and everything he does in his lifetime will lead to this.
He is NOT weak, however—- a visual representation of this will make that quite clear. He is huge. He is large. He is a mass of unstable power. He can be hurt. He can be damaged. But he is not weak and that is something he will stress. When he goes out— when he explodes, he is doing so with a bang.
