prettytm

[prettytm]

From the seat of his power, Khon.shu sends a sliver of himself into his Fist, quieting the three men who make up his vessel. Moon Kni.ght radiates pure moonlight across Marc and his lover’s bed – gold bracers and belt accent immaculate white vestments. Khon.shu’s vessel is as familiar to him as his other forms. Only his Fist can contain his multitudes.

Insomnia dogs veterans, businessmen, and criminals alike. Mortals must eventually sleep or their mind and body unravels. Khon.shu studies Blackbird’s pretty scarred form like any appreciation for art as the man wakes. Scars done to him, scars done in service to ideals, scars his Fist bestowed as gifts.

Castle keeps his god well fed. Khon.shu has both Fists alive. His younger, zealot son who is beginning to question. His eldest living son who gathers devoted companions regardless of his intentions. The vampire children. The were-woman. A fool. And a Blackbird, musical as his avian counterpart. One who fills the hole in his heart shaped like abandonment and poverty with bettering himself. Perfect wardrobe and grooming. Finery. Promiscuous

“William Russo.” Not his Fist’s voice. His. Ancient, remote as his moon, waxing crescent brighter than mortal cities. “Well met, my son.” Twisting a term like a crescent dart. His Fists’ duty – and love – must remain on Him. Violence and devotion are twinned concepts to him. He knows his eldest son; forbidding would not amount to anything.

Putting everything into perspective however...

“You labor under a mistaken belief. I am here to correct it.” Khon.shu remains statue still. “Your lover’s time is limited. Each death brings him closer to becoming a mindless husk. A feral killer without remorse."

Volume softens almost pityingly. "You will not be able to keep him – not with a safe house and chains. I will return him to my side and select a new Fist. It is the way of things.”

He's well versed in his boys. He could usually follow their switch without ever needing to pause and wait. It's in every movement, very breath and pattern they weave throughout the day. He's spent years learning them, knowing them, being with them..

So when suddenly there's a stranger in his men.. He straightens, rigidly so, ready for some new hell to find them. It wasn't like their world was free from moments just like this. He tried to explain away as much of it as he could.. He's not Frank, he doesn't stare a vampire down, tell them they're not real before keeping it moving.. But he also has a hard time believing in everything he's seen.

This was no exception.

He only doesn't go for his gun because this thing was wearing his partner like some sort of meat suit. But he does have his phone in his hand, a 911 text sent to the man He called god. He's thinking he's gonna need backup but..

At least for now he was going to face this thing down.

'It's Billy. Billy Russo." He corrects. Because he's from New York, because he's a marine and they don't have the sense they were born with and because no one called him William. It's all but a dead name to him. And he wouldn't have.. this thing use it freely.

It's when he starts speaking, when he's forced to listen, that he realizes what this is. Realizes who's wearing his lover's body and he's all cool steal fury with black glass eyes that burn.

"He's fuckin' mine, birdbrain. You can't have him. My chains, my safe house.. I'll keep him safe.. I'll keep him. And if you think for one minute I'll let you have him.. Then you best know I have a bullet with their name on it and I won't hold back usin' it."

[prettytm]

it's just the remnants of the mask that ghost wears. that's all the military dressed officer hands over silently. the alabaster skull that was so prominently ghost is shattered slightly from a bullet, the hole evident. blood dried on it. ghost's, more than likely. it's the delivery of the mask that says it all. a final wish being honored. the officer gives a nod once the mask is in billy's hands - and walks away. no words were needed. it was a gesture that was symbolic and said it all. the final remnants of a man, a legend, a murderer. handed down on ghost's own request. seems the bastard had a bit of a sentimental heart in the end after all.

A soldier knows.

When the uniformed officer clears his throat, when he begins to speak in a comforting, practiced tone, Billy was already disassociating. He doesn't hear anything apart from the hammering of his own heart in his ears. There was only one man who would have his name scribbled down somewhere as next of kin, only one man who would have had the balls to make this their final goodbye.

A final fucking curtain call.

He could feel the ghost of his fingers on the base of his neck, his laughter against his hair, he could feel the ghost of him as a physical wound. And Billy Russo wasn't above cursing a dead man. It's exactly what he does as he reaches to take that mask, a fucking marriage vow from death.

His thumb strokes over the bullet hole, stares at the blood stained material and he feels the tightening in his chest and knows.. Nothing would ever be the same.

He nods at the soldier before he slams the door closed. He's lucky he had been in uniform, he should be grateful that someone in the universe realized the grieve that was about to explode onto the streets. Because if he couldn't have his peace..

The world could run bloody in his rage.

[prettytm]

I HATE YOU

But god how I love you.

i'm a national treasure

[prettytm]

I'm! I'm sorry! She's-- She died... I'm sorry.

For a long moment he stands still, shock dropping off of him in sickening waves. He hears the words he speaks, hears the gasping for air as he squeezes harder and harder. He is aware when he twists his wrist just so that the deafening sound of breaking bones would echo through the air.

However none of that matters as the body drops to the ground.

Lou. Gone? He wouldn't believe it until he saw it himself.

[prettytm]

I'm sorry to inform you that Lou Wolfe has died.

"The fuck you just say to me?" He slowly steps out from behind the door keeping this stranger safe. A hand around their throat, he squeezes until he could see red bleeding into the whites of their eyes. "Say that again. Slowly."

[prettytm]

Feet carry him silently, bright red hair a stark contrast against the darkness of the night. He follows, stalking the male like a predator after its prey. It had been so long...so damned long...

Oh, how the boy ached for his kiss, his touch--

"Billy?" Saem finally speaks, plump lips curling into a rather feline smile. It was him, truly. Finally. It had to be.

Saem.

What need does he have for the sight of him, the surge of his voice in the silences of the night? The darkness folds in around them and Billy has no doubt who approaches. By breath alone. He knows him.

Time meant nothing, lifetimes could separate them and still they would find themselves hopelessly drawn back in. They were blood stained and fated. Even a goddess had no control in the crash course they would take back towards one another. Even now as he turns to watch him draw in closer.. He fog rolls to swallow them and with an impatient roll of his eyes..

He reaches out to grip Saem around the wrist, reeling him in with a harsh tug. His face in the palms of his hands, he stares down at that beloved face.

"..Finally."

[prettytm]

Russo! Word on the divine plane is that your lover's clock is ticking. Only a matter of time and so many resurrections before he is nothing more than a shell of himself wrapped not in vestments but bandages. Almost like a zombie. Any plans for that?

"Yeah. I got plans for that. He's still my fucking problem, zombie or not. Nothing some chains and a safe house can't fix. Happily ever after or some shit."

[prettytm]

Kim Addonizio, “The Singing”, Tell Me

[prettytm]

"sometimes i think of the faces of those who died because i wasn't fast enough." (echoestm, sam, billy)

Weakness - Accepting - @echoestm

"...You start askin' those kinda questions, Sammy... There's no stopping them."

Billy Russo knows a thing or two about regret. He doesn't have many. But there's a few important moments in his life he truly wishes he could rewind the clock on.. And it's never helped him, nor his peace of mind, to start looking for the answers to problems that were already solved.

"..But you're ready now.. You'll always be ready."

[prettytm]

He's got a scarily pretty face and a catwalk silhouette. Unfair. Leave something for the rest of us, you know?

"But I've been blessed.. Gotta share the wealth don't I?"

[prettytm]

Saem Spam for @prettytm bc...look at him.

[prettytm]

"I CANNOT SHOW ANY WEAKNESS" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for those who think they need to be tough at all times to get through a difficult situation, adjust as necessary

i don't have time for games, [name].

you can't stop me.

these people are counting on me to save them.

every second i wait, every moment i take for myself, is another life lost.

i'm not willing to put anyone else's life on the line.

i have to be tougher than this.

you taught me to be strong.

i'm not giving up.

there's no time to waste.

you stay behind. i'm leaving.

that's not a risk i'm willing to take.

there's no time to sit and chat. i have to keep going.

i'm not tired.

i was just resting my eyes.

you're imagining things.

i'm perfectly fine continuing on.

we have to pick up the pace.

they're counting on me to fix this.

there are so many lives at stake.

we can't slow down.

don't ask me to take a break.

i wasn't crying.

i can't let them see me falter.

there's no time for breaks.

i don't need sleep. i need answers.

i'm not wasting another second on this.

we have to figure out a way around it.

get up. we're going.

we're finding another way through.

if i have to break the door down, i will.

so many people are counting on me.

i can't afford to fail.

i can't let them see me quit.

there's no room for failure.

too many lives are at stake for me to just sit here and do nothing.

they need a hero.

i'm not sitting around and waiting for someone to save me.

i don't have time for this.

i can do this on my own.

get out of my way. let me try.

move out of my way.

you're not going to stop me.

do you realize how many people are relying on me?

sometimes i think of the faces of those who died because i wasn't fast enough.

i'm not sticking around to find out.

let go of me. i'm leaving.

there has to be some way to stop them.

i haven't quit yet.

"giving up" isn't in my vocabulary.

i don't need you to look at it. i'll be fine.

it's just a flesh wound. it'll heal.

you can't make me stay here.

they put me in charge.

i can't afford to let anyone down.

i'm not strong enough.

[prettytm]

For you were lonely, you were like me Like some outside force had sent me If I was easy to kill, you would have done it already

@sangelune

[prettytm]

Ya'll.. Come complain about his face publicly don't be shy.

[prettytm]

[prettytm]

this!

[prettytm]

You lost him didn't you, Red?