#fun fact baby you're a haunted house by gerard way is LITCHERALLY the perfect cadillac ship song lmfao

[charismastaticarchive]

@destructiveglitch​ [ aerith & cadillac ( affection meme ! ) ] : “  ❣ time to get lost in those scary gateways to madness baby  “

It’s strange. They always say you can tell a lot about a person by their eyes. Aerith never thought about the expression too hard. She tried not to think about anything too hard, lest the thought run away from her, slipping out of her mind and hands like a cloud wisping beyond the horizon, oozing away and leaving only empty air in its wake. 

There’s only one thing worth than emptiness and the loneliness that comes with it, Aerith knows, and that thought never slips away. And that’s blankness. 

Obscured eyes too bright with shine to see and souls you’ll never know as they never talk to you except in groans and hefty, slurping breaths from the mouths beneath their masks, hands with clean, sticky, white latex gloves. They were worst when clean, Aerith knew. The anticipation---the sterility, the smell of bleach and soap and rubber, with that harsh anaesthetic wheeze in the air, the gnarling start of machines and then---nothingness. It was better, Aerith knew, to wake up---even if their hands were stained with your blood, or your Mother’s. At least that meant it was over.

It’s funny, then. how when Aerith met Cadillac---Cadillac was a blank slate in Aerith’s eyes. So many eyes, obscured with thick grey goggles. So many latex-ladden hands, full of scalpels with smiling teeth, so bright and white they stood out even against Aerith’s false vision of Cadillac---a pale skin that could never have known sunlight, so much so that Aerith imagined she would be blinded. Aerith could not see the mouth on Cadillac’s face---even when he spoke, the medical mask on his face only seemed to pull and press with his ever hidden chin and lips beneath. 

And to make matters worse---Cadillac’s form would change. Seven eyes to twenty-four, to one, to two million tiny dots, on their arms and legs through the alabaster scrubs he was forced to wear in her mind’s eye. Arms always moving---always changing, scalpels always smiling, unless Aerith seemed to say the wrong thing----and then their teeth bore their fangs in a snarl, hissing until foam sputtered and spurred at their gums like those of rabid dogs.

Aerith believed she was right to be terrified---but she did not run. Knew there was no use in it. And although at first she believed this to be yet another cowardice---a way of failing her Mother, a way of failing her people, the planet, the voices that she still did not know if she could truly believe in----this was not the punishment she expected.

Slowly, she began to get to know the monster. And from that blankness sprouted color, and true form, though like the wisping cloud---his appearance would shift, and change, and float so solemnly away with every shift of the moon in Aerith’s heart.

Tenderness was not pink, Aerith would come to find, but blue. And without the goggles, obscuring Cadillac’s beautiful, neon blue eyes----Aerith saw something even more startling... in a way that thrilled and awed her. Not blankness, but an eternal universe of madness. A wildness that could not be tamed, a look Aerith had only seen in other women’s eyes at their most beautiful and brave. In Cadillac’s eyes was vengeance. Against anyone who’d ever hurt him, and anyone who’d hurt any woman at all. It was near-inspiring. That even as they changed with Cadillac’s true form---they stayed the same, all-encompassing, consuming, chaos; enthralling, gorgeous darknesss; perfect, wonderful anger, a fire so hot it burns blue and melts men’s bones.

Aeirth could have stared forever---but then two eyes reverts to twenty, then grey with so many layers of tinted glass, then once again the bright, white shine. Aeirth looks away, licking her bicuspids inside her mouth, crossing her arms just so as she looks to the floor.

It isn’t fair---that his eyes could hold so much. But she’ll stay with him, forever, if she has to---even if she has to face her fears a thousand nights, not out of cowardice----but to see those eyes again. And maybe one day, all of him, in every shade of the abyss, blue as bruised lips, from every cold hard kiss Aerith longs to pierce through that mask that refuses to fade between them.