sagittiferae

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                  ❝ is that a true advice or just a way to make me take off the jacket? ❞

            “Less jacket.”

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                  ❝ i'm gonna wear this. ❞

                         ❝ ------ am i going to wear this? ❞

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                      her place was there. she was supposed to be there.                                                      by [ her ] side.                                                           always.

                ------      i came to save my best friend.

                  she didn't have to make it right. what even was left to pick up?                                               bare bones? there were none. ashes to ashes, dust to dust --                     it's all gone, back to the earth, back to the ground. she didn't                   have to make it right -- it was right. it was perfect.                                         ---- put the knives down, get some sleep, let go of that lipstick.                    it tells lies, lydia. it will never cover up the smell of death coming                    out of your lips. you don't tell lies. you cannot even lie to yourself.

                                          ❝ ———— it's gonna be okay. ❞

                                              [ reach out & touch faith. ]

                    hand searches hand; warmth of the living against the coldness                     of the other side. you gotta stop searching and start finding.                      there's nothing to touch, no one to hold; the remembrance                     of what could have been and never will.

     {♚}  ”You didn’t hear me.”                I heard you. Over and over.              ”You have too.”

    The source of the voice was met with a break in the ironclad apathy once held     by a face once equated to the sun. A smile for the dearly departed!     And when gave a glance over her shoulder, she’d be seen coated in red.     It wasn’t blood. (Not yet.) The lipstick trailed down the corner of her lip.     Eye liner was forfeited half way through the process     This was not Lydia Martin. Lydia Martin’s weapon was make-up.     And yet here in her hand fumbled the crude silver knife.

   This was The Banshee.    And she’d heard, she’d heard. That’s because it doesn’t hurt That’s because it doesn’t hurt That’s because it doesn’t hurt That’s because it doesn’t hurt That’s because it doesn’t hurt    And so it didn’t.

       ＲＥＰＥＴＩＴＩＯＮ  ＩＳ  ＴＨＥ        ＭＯＴＨＥＲ  ＯＦ  ＡＬＬ ”                                     “!                                                             ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ                                                                  ｓｋｉｌｌ                                                             ＩＮＳＡＮＩＴＹ

  “I'll make it right, Allison.”    Her hand, shaking, reached for some sort of comfort from a ghost and    her eyes fell downward when it was left unreceived only to further the view of    the wreck she’d left herself in.  ”You weren’t supposed to be there. It was wrong.    I’ll make it right.”

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rituals.

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                      it couldn't hurt. 

                                   to die at seventeen in the arms of your [ first love ] & saving the ones you love, dying by your own code                                     

                                                      it doesn't hurt.                                                         it won't hurt.                                                         it can't hurt.                                                           it's okay.

      when you are happy you find yourself in a puddle of your own blood ---- how can       you smile? you are only sad because you don't know yet if your best friend is       safe ------ you wonder if she'll make it out while you're the one to die.       it feels amusing ---- that is why you are wearing joy on your already dead sleeves.       & then, suddenly ---- darkness. the same old you tried to shut the door at;       it came back to you -- you have no more doors to close, you have to walk through it.       so you do ---- you accept fate ( you thought there wasn't any ) & you accept the fact your       hands won't feel the warmth of your friends' cheeks. 

                                                    actually, these hands won't feel any warmth at all.                   she's dead. she's the ghost everyone will forget about.

      it is a surprise when her lament is heard by the only person that could ever figure out the pain ------ of course she could; now she's the one who needs to stay inside of her mind and be heard. battleborn skin reaches out to shoulder -- it's cold, lydia was never cold. 

                                             ( it's not her                    it's you. )

          ❝ ———— i'm not, lydia. you need to accept that. ❞

     pale lips long to touch her flawled skin to pour old goodness into her being ----                                                          but it's gone. all gone.

    It’s a theorem; a perfect circle    ＩＮＳＣＲＩＢＥＤ,  ＣＹＣＬＩＣ  ＱＵＡＤＲＩＬＡＴＥＲＡＬ,      ＴＡＮＧＥＮＴ  ＡＮＧＬＥ, ＡＮＧＬＥ  ＣＢＸ, ＰＲＱ = ２  ×  ６２° = １２４°    Thoughts bouncing off her head sang silver as she sang silver and the knife,     so small and thin as she was small and thin (maybe the were ＯＮＥ),     sang silver. It was coated in the precious metal and protruding carelessly from     her hand; the final coat was messy and dripping, another link to her as that was     the state of her thoughts and her mind, because she was no smith born to forge.     But there were things who had to go.

                                  ☑ ｏｎｉ

                                  ☑ ｋｉｔｓｕｎｅ

                                  ☑ …？

A rumble in her mind that started as a white noise and ended at a scream     pull her in the nearest ally although she did not flinch. Why, why little banshee?     That’s because it doesn’t hurt.     Not anymore.

       {♚}   ”You don’t understand Allison! You’re coming back. You have too.”

    It’s a theorem; a perfect circle.     ＤＥＡＴＨ  ＦＯＲ  ＤＥＡＴＨ

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                   ❝ -------- .. contrary to what you think, i didn't eat all the candy. ❞

[sagittiferae]

             [ although she has been cutting him off right from the start, there is a certain kindness coming from his figure, as a halo unable to go out ---- but then again, the water dropping from his hair makes her lower the visage, dimples showing as to wide the smile and spit out a breathy snort as tresses fall to cover lazily her features ---- kind of hiding the smiles he's been able to draw out of her, hence the lips softening as the chin goes up again. ]

                   ❝ alison -- yes; i think allison instead has to be an english adaptation. same pronuntation, different spelling. ❞

             [ ---- right. one moment she is about to kick him off and the other they're just easily talking about french names, that's nice. hazel irises find his again and her head tilts, waiting for lips to speak up for her mind. ]

                   ❝ ---- i think you'd rather enjoy talking about french names with your clothes dry and out of school, right? ❞

              [ -------- allison argent is basically inviting you over, i don't think that's hard to understand, is it? ]

      [ he doesn’t know what to expect. he hasn’t been exactly honest, but he’s been as direct as possible, trying to convey his need to be trusted through his voice and gestures. he is trustworthy, he saves lives! that the girl doesn’t know though, so it’s not her fault she tried to walk away. ]

      [ ── she doesn’t step back as he stops in front of her as he thought she’d have, and he’s grateful for that. his features soften as he speaks, words rushing out of his mouth, and again, he’s met with an unexpected smile. ── another wild raindrop slides down his forehead, from where it had been haning on a lock of his air. ]

                  « ──yyyeah, people phrased it differently, but─ yeah. »

      [ ── giving up is one of his strong suits, though it depends on what he has to give up on: himself? first in line; other people? when hell freezes over. he’s always been good at helping people out (his brother, his father), so he’s always given his best. ]

                  « ──allison, nice. is that french or something? »

[sagittiferae]

            [ of course she wouldn't wait one more minute and waste the chance to just bluntly ignore him -- the way he walked in, how he would look at her, speak of matters he clearly didn't belong in ---- pretentious thing he was, so yes, he was surely slammed into the 'i really have no interest in talking to someone like you' category. ]

         [ ------ allison is known to be arsh, but not exactly merciless. as soon as her earlier words had been spoken, her body moved -- her figure turned and you could say she was ready to forget about the encounter; but as she shifted, so did the other, she can even hear the locker screeching lightly as the weight of him has been took off and his figure before hers. he's still all wet, which kind of makes her put up a softer smile than the previous. she is hearing his words, i'm not fucking around, but his voice doesn't totally catch her attention until he cracks out a ' i know stuff '. ]

                   ❝ ... you really are someone who doesn't give up, are you? ❞                                  ❝ ——---- it's allison; not ' the daughter. ' ❞

      [ his gaze follows the huntress’ movements, noticing how she slightly leans back to get a better look─ to put him in her mental archive and determine whether he was from around there or not (it was a thing he did too, to sort people into ‘okay' / ‘no’ / ‘fuck no’ categories). the locker is shut with a sharp clank (which makes him blink far too many times in few seconds) and he feels the girl’s eyes on him again. hesitation radiates from her figure and the distance between them fairly widens: dean guesses he’s been put into the ‘fuck no’ category. ]

                  « … wait, wait── »

      [ a humid spot on the locker is left by his shoulder when he straightens up again and strides after the girl. this can’t be going like this. he has a job and he has to help these people, whatever their problem is. and he can’t let his father down. ─he cuts in right in front of her, green honest eyes looking for hers. ]

                  « ──i’m not fucking around, i’m really here to help. and, believe me, i know stuff. ─well, i, uh, don’t know why, exactly, i’m here, but i thought you could give me an update. »

                     « …i’m dean, by the way. »

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crystal reed for westlake magazine

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Shoot it. 

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                 ❝ —— i'm gonna sleep here. you can't stop me. ❞

[sagittiferae]

pressicn replied to your post:

whispers that my danny muse is literally getting stronger with every episode i watch

[ whispers back. ] i need you to do the thing once you're done watching okay. yesgood.

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                 ❝ —— nope. i'm not getting up. ❞

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                 ❝ not if you're going to smirk all the damn time like you're up to something. ❞

         [ green hues discovering her visage don't go unnoticed as she makes sure to find those once their travel around her almost shown dimples is over. surely, their meetings were not just about the famous hunt he had hinted to her more than once -- sometimes, they'd even forget about the matter for a while. the smile she wore went out, leaving place to a grimace -- even so, lips are still on the verge of a little grin, as to challenge the other. ]

          [ green irises caress the huntress’ face, sliding down her long lashes, over her lips. he liked seeing her smile. maybe he just liked smiling people. ──let’s just say that the hunt his father sent him on took an unexpected turn. but it isn’t so unlikely for him to make friends with everyone. ]

                   « ─── what, i’m not even allowed to smile now? »

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            [ she takes her time to let hazel hues come out, sleepy as they are, hiding it badly -- visage shifting from against his muscle to face emerald eyes placed upon her. surely, to a half-asleep allison argent, those irises seemed way too green to be properly real. ]

                 ❝ ---- your stupid smile says otherwise. ❞

          [ her loose curls brush against his cheek as he turns some more, careful not to move his shoulder, while an endearing smile grows on his face. morpheus did a piss poor job, didn’t he? ]

                   « ─── aw come on, i didn’t do anything. »

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[sagittiferae]

                 ❝ i don't think the gps is the problem. ❞

    {♚}  ”…I got a new GPS though.”