Sovereign of Silence

morsdecorus:

deathrebornrevolution:

morsdecorus:

deathrebornrevolution:

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

morsdecorus:

deathrebornrevolution:

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

…

It came as a surprise when Ciel actually did come when he was called. Perhaps he only did because he was still technically tied to this wish he made that was left irrelevant. Alois looked over his newly cursed physical stature in the dim lighting of his bedroom, trying with all of his might to just remember him as the troubled boy he once knew. He’ll forget that his body was a compartment for souls, and utmost darkness and evil. He’ll pretend that he’s just Ciel, and nothing more. How he wants him. How he wished him.

Words stumble up and over his tongue and past his lips, unable to find a beginning to his pseudo-epiphany. Instead, Alois uses what he knows most, and that’s the power of touch to try and persuade Ciel to fall to a manageable level.

Before Ciel could retaliate, Alois jumped up from the edge of his bed and slid his arms around the boy’s neck, bringing him into a close embrace. “Don’t move,” Alois spoke just above a whisper. He spent a moment allowing the dark-haired boy to be allowed to taste the feeling of want, the compassion of need. And then he spoke up once more, just behind his ear with hopes that a subtle approach would put a dent in his exterior.

“I get it now, Ciel, I get everything you meant. You wanted a way out of your life…it was like a prison, right? You could never live a normal life even if you got out…because you’ll always be tormented by your fate, and you couldn’t tell a soul…I get it. I know what it feels like.” He closes his eyes momentarily, begging with all of his being that Ciel doesn’t push him away at any moment. Please don’t avoid me anymore.

“Sometimes…I wondered what would happen if I let myself out of my own cage. But then…what if I forgot how to fly? What if I get caught again? What if I end up back in that cage? So…I thought, maybe…I could just have someone spend time with me in that cage, so at least it wouldn’t feel too empty. But…I made a mistake and I threw you back in, and…I just wanted you to be a part of my fate again. Whatever happens to me, whether you’re responsible or not, I’d at least like for someone like you to be there through it all. You’re someone I can tell; I hoped I could be that person you could finally share your misery with…you wouldn’t have to keep hiding it. You shouldn’t owe me…I owe you now.”

Softly, softly the pain crept back in like an unwanted guest. It was never something he had the patience or heart to acknowledge openly… but hid close to his ṧϴÜℒ. It was a deep ṧϴÜℒ pain that took bitter root as a child and blossomed as he fed it hate-filled venom. His heart was flesh, now, he could no longer deny that pain.

And he wants to ♓ņ€ again. He wants to ♓ņ€ Alois. He wants to ♓ņ€ Sebastian. He wants to ♓ņ€ his weakness and curse everything he is.

Filthy. Humans are filthy. And even if you change your skin it doesn’t change what’s underneath. The dirt and blood will never be scrubbed away and neither will the selfish, greedy desires that came with being human. But those things were also strengths and giving into them had been the only way he survived — becoming the things that lurked in the shadows of human thought themselves is a terrifying thing. But Alois understood.

✝hen in my ℭhildhood, in the Ðawn

Ѻf a most ṧтormy life was 

Ðrawn

He understood where no one else dared to try. Where no one else ever could have or wanted to.

If he was weak, he might have wept. But he isn’t, so he doesn’t. Instead, he’s still as death and equally as cold. (Equally as inviting). No one had ever comforted him because he hadn’t let them, no one had demolished his exterior or wormed their way past it enough to see the deadweight on his shoulders, tying back his wrists with thorns and steel of memory. It bit him, screamed at him, begged to be recognized. He’d hoped if he had ignored it long enough it would wither up and die. But these things never did. If anything, they only grew stronger with time, even if time numbed them.

 

ℱґom every depth, ฿Ѻth good and ill

The ♏ƴstery which ฿їnds me s✝ill

Alois knew the human side of him. Knew he wasn’t just a monster like he’d tried so desperately to convince himself (that he was more a creature of sentiment and nostalgia). he trembles again. He exhales. He presses his eyes closed.

“You don’t understand anything.”

Comes the weak retort. But he’s wrong. He is understood. He just doesn’t understand how to deal with it.

“And you don’t owe me anything, either. I gave up hope of escaping anything a long time ago — this life is the only one I have and I exist this way because it’s the only way I know how to. It’s the only thing I have ever known.”

Ciel will always be the type who refuses to budge under emotional pressure. But Alois wasn’t the type to give up on it. He would never admit to anything, anything he felt, anything he was thinking, whatever would interrupt what he has become of him. Perhaps, Ciel is one who can never be converted. Alois doesn’t care, but he just wants to be heard, and moreso, accepted.

He let out a light sigh, shaking his head as he continued to keep Ciel close, as a therapy for getting the words straight to his heart rather than to his ears. “Ciel, I’ve always understood, but you’ve never wanted me to. Since I can remember, you’ve been trained to despise every inch of me. But you never had a reason why, did you? You just did, because that’s what they taught you. They taught you resentment, and rivalry. But I’ve understood all along, I wanted you to see that I did. But you refused to look at me any other way.”

Alois couldn’t give up on this now. He had Ciel in his hands and though the grip wasn’t tight, he still had him, at least by a small thread. He wanted to prove the demons wrong, erase that haze of hatred Ciel was forced to see with. He wanted to slip past the lies and the cover ups and hope that there was a new Ciel deep down who could accept his company.

He knew he was probably spattering nonsense, but every perspective was a new try in order to bring fourth the boy he never had, but still had lost. Alois drew in a small breath, focusing on that brand new feeling of a heart beating against his. He remembered when it didn’t beat at all, when Ciel was nothing but an undying shell. 

“Maybe…with this commitment, we can make something of it, something new aside from what you know.” Though Alois knew his body was practically that of a mask to cover his true identity, he still found comfort in it. He was warmer than previously, pulsating with flowing blood, skin that was just right against his. All of it was so inviting, the sensations of being alive, together, with the obvious boundary of immortality on Ciel’s part. Alois wished Ciel knew just how much he needed this.

“It could be like our own little secret life, Ciel. We can recreate anything we want. We can fill the voids. It could be like…nobody else ever existed…”. Alois could only imagine how a world with just Ciel would make such a difference on the boy’s perspective. Would he learn to understand Alois’ intentions? Would he learn to grasp onto the general need to be loved? 

“I always thought that conquering something with you would be overwhelmingly pleasant.”

Another hairline fracture traveled down the length of ice and shook him with such great intensity it took every ounce of strength not to scream and tear himself out of this unwilling embrace. If he could have stopped it and pressed his hands over it, forced it to mend together, he would have — but he’s unable. And it frightens him. He’s not in control.

Even Aberline’s words hadn’t had this much of an impact, despite his preaching about a better life and an end to his darkness. But he’d known, even then, it was impossible. And he’d decided never to let anyone close enough to ever scratch the surface of his heart ever again. So why now?

ℱrom the ✝orren✝, or the FѺuntain

                                    ℱrom the red cliff Ѻf the ♏ountain

 ℱrom the ṧṲη

                          that ‘round me rѺll’d

In its autu♏n tint of gѺld

 

And every scene replays, flash forwarded in double-time and his eyes refuse to focus. His body had been numb to the changes in the seasons for so long, the warmth of another body in close proximity to his own is foreign, the smell of winter had been long forgotten and buried underneath snowdrifts of memory. The feel of rain against his skin couldn’t be appreciated. Thick fog was little more than irritating moisture in the air — but the rain. Ah, the rain. His soul felt the rain. And everything came down in torrents.

“You talk as though something can be done when it can’t,” he murmurs, “What could we possibly conquer that hasn’t been already? This world hangs in a delicate balance wound up by politics far more complicated than our time. And people are equally as blind and selfish as they were then — the madness never seems to end. But that’s why, I’d decided, not to make the same mistakes I did back then.”

 

He doesn’t want to let anyone close. He wants to keep up this facade. His mask isn’t as flawless as he’d like it to be, especially not now, especially not with how he’s begun to change and care after standing still for so long.

 

ℱrom the ℒḯḠнтИḯηḠ in the sky

 Ås it pαṧṧed me

fℒ¥ing by

                               ℱrom the t♄unÐer

                                                    and t♄e stѺrm

Ånd the clѺuÐ that

toѺk ƒorm

 

There’s a crackle in his heart, like a fire springing to life, he can’t bear it or stop it from burning him. And always he’ll be out of time, in a different place, far away from where he should truly be. And reflecting out, always, will be the fair-faced demon over his shoulder and his own slitted magenta eyes leering out at him.

 

{ Ш♄en the

 ґεṧт of ℌℯαṽ℮η was ♭łue }

 Ѻf a

Ḏ€♏Ѻℵ

in my view

Does Alois truly understand the gravity of what it is he’s doing? That’s he’s painfully inhuman in many many ways?

 

“You’re a fool.” He says softly. But he laughs a little despite himself. Alois’s insanity was all his own and completely different from other humans — he’d never understood why Claude didn’t want to consume him. His soul was fit for that.

“If you could recreate this world, then, what would it look like?”

It was more than a comfort to at least settle the tone of Ciel’s voice, if he couldn’t settle his heart right away. He feared that if he would break the embrace, he’d run free like a rabbit fooling a trap. He only trusted physical emotion rather than words that were mistaken as truths and promises. With Ciel’s question, Alois felt naive; the world truly is ‘hell on Earth’, but in the condition he always seems to be left in, he finds that he can blind himself with his imagination, something he always knew Ciel never wanted to get his paws wet with. 

“There’s nothing here for us to conquer, I know. But at the same time, I don’t think there’s anything at all for me, or you, in this world. I pretend that there’s nothing outside my window, or anything past the front yard. I just try and tell myself that I don’t have to exist out there. But then…I wonder why I exist in here…”

Alois frowned slightly within his words, burying his chin into the crook of the boy’s neck as he kept a good hold of him like a faithful stuffed animal that kept the monsters under the bed away and out of sight. “I’ve learned too much about myself that I’ve become used to awaiting death everyday of my life. I had no purpose before…and I still have no purpose now. I don’t know why I’m here, Ciel. I’ve asked myself since I could remember noticing differences in the little things that happen to me. But now I’m scared, because I have you here and I don’t know what that means, but I need to keep you for as long as I possibly can, because I don’t think I can be alone a single day longer…”

The blonde had lost himself in his anxieties, his cheeks reddening with heated worry. His heart pounded even faster than it should, making an attempt to hush his own nerves by absent-mindedly brushing the dusky blue hair on the nape of the boy’s neck with his fingertips. It’s come down to this, and he had no reason; Ciel was his life support. It shouldn’t even make sense, but he could pretend it did.

“If…I could recreate this world now,” Alois began in a broken, yet soft tone, “It would be like a dream I always wake up from, the one where I’m not scared anymore, where Luka is there with me, and Hannah… It’d be beautiful, like a summer day that never ends. But there isn’t such thing, not when all I see is darkness, all the time. Nothing can ever change that, no matter what you try. But then here you are, and…you make the darkness inviting, so instead of trying to save me from it…maybe you can just help me adapt to it.”

morsdecorus:

deathrebornrevolution:

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

morsdecorus:

deathrebornrevolution:

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

…

It came as a surprise when Ciel actually did come when he was called. Perhaps he only did because he was still technically tied to this wish he made that was left irrelevant. Alois looked over his newly cursed physical stature in the dim lighting of his bedroom, trying with all of his might to just remember him as the troubled boy he once knew. He’ll forget that his body was a compartment for souls, and utmost darkness and evil. He’ll pretend that he’s just Ciel, and nothing more. How he wants him. How he wished him.

Words stumble up and over his tongue and past his lips, unable to find a beginning to his pseudo-epiphany. Instead, Alois uses what he knows most, and that’s the power of touch to try and persuade Ciel to fall to a manageable level.

Before Ciel could retaliate, Alois jumped up from the edge of his bed and slid his arms around the boy’s neck, bringing him into a close embrace. “Don’t move,” Alois spoke just above a whisper. He spent a moment allowing the dark-haired boy to be allowed to taste the feeling of want, the compassion of need. And then he spoke up once more, just behind his ear with hopes that a subtle approach would put a dent in his exterior.

“I get it now, Ciel, I get everything you meant. You wanted a way out of your life…it was like a prison, right? You could never live a normal life even if you got out…because you’ll always be tormented by your fate, and you couldn’t tell a soul…I get it. I know what it feels like.” He closes his eyes momentarily, begging with all of his being that Ciel doesn’t push him away at any moment. Please don’t avoid me anymore.

“Sometimes…I wondered what would happen if I let myself out of my own cage. But then…what if I forgot how to fly? What if I get caught again? What if I end up back in that cage? So…I thought, maybe…I could just have someone spend time with me in that cage, so at least it wouldn’t feel too empty. But…I made a mistake and I threw you back in, and…I just wanted you to be a part of my fate again. Whatever happens to me, whether you’re responsible or not, I’d at least like for someone like you to be there through it all. You’re someone I can tell; I hoped I could be that person you could finally share your misery with…you wouldn’t have to keep hiding it. You shouldn’t owe me…I owe you now.”

Softly, softly the pain crept back in like an unwanted guest. It was never something he had the patience or heart to acknowledge openly… but hid close to his ṧϴÜℒ. It was a deep ṧϴÜℒ pain that took bitter root as a child and blossomed as he fed it hate-filled venom. His heart was flesh, now, he could no longer deny that pain.

And he wants to ♓ņ€ again. He wants to ♓ņ€ Alois. He wants to ♓ņ€ Sebastian. He wants to ♓ņ€ his weakness and curse everything he is.

Filthy. Humans are filthy. And even if you change your skin it doesn’t change what’s underneath. The dirt and blood will never be scrubbed away and neither will the selfish, greedy desires that came with being human. But those things were also strengths and giving into them had been the only way he survived — becoming the things that lurked in the shadows of human thought themselves is a terrifying thing. But Alois understood.

✝hen in my ℭhildhood, in the Ðawn

Ѻf a most ṧтormy life was 

Ðrawn

He understood where no one else dared to try. Where no one else ever could have or wanted to.

If he was weak, he might have wept. But he isn’t, so he doesn’t. Instead, he’s still as death and equally as cold. (Equally as inviting). No one had ever comforted him because he hadn’t let them, no one had demolished his exterior or wormed their way past it enough to see the deadweight on his shoulders, tying back his wrists with thorns and steel of memory. It bit him, screamed at him, begged to be recognized. He’d hoped if he had ignored it long enough it would wither up and die. But these things never did. If anything, they only grew stronger with time, even if time numbed them.

 

ℱґom every depth, ฿Ѻth good and ill

The ♏ƴstery which ฿їnds me s✝ill

Alois knew the human side of him. Knew he wasn’t just a monster like he’d tried so desperately to convince himself (that he was more a creature of sentiment and nostalgia). he trembles again. He exhales. He presses his eyes closed.

“You don’t understand anything.”

Comes the weak retort. But he’s wrong. He is understood. He just doesn’t understand how to deal with it.

“And you don’t owe me anything, either. I gave up hope of escaping anything a long time ago — this life is the only one I have and I exist this way because it’s the only way I know how to. It’s the only thing I have ever known.”

Ciel will always be the type who refuses to budge under emotional pressure. But Alois wasn’t the type to give up on it. He would never admit to anything, anything he felt, anything he was thinking, whatever would interrupt what he has become of him. Perhaps, Ciel is one who can never be converted. Alois doesn’t care, but he just wants to be heard, and moreso, accepted.

He let out a light sigh, shaking his head as he continued to keep Ciel close, as a therapy for getting the words straight to his heart rather than to his ears. “Ciel, I’ve always understood, but you’ve never wanted me to. Since I can remember, you’ve been trained to despise every inch of me. But you never had a reason why, did you? You just did, because that’s what they taught you. They taught you resentment, and rivalry. But I’ve understood all along, I wanted you to see that I did. But you refused to look at me any other way.”

Alois couldn’t give up on this now. He had Ciel in his hands and though the grip wasn’t tight, he still had him, at least by a small thread. He wanted to prove the demons wrong, erase that haze of hatred Ciel was forced to see with. He wanted to slip past the lies and the cover ups and hope that there was a new Ciel deep down who could accept his company.

He knew he was probably spattering nonsense, but every perspective was a new try in order to bring fourth the boy he never had, but still had lost. Alois drew in a small breath, focusing on that brand new feeling of a heart beating against his. He remembered when it didn’t beat at all, when Ciel was nothing but an undying shell. 

“Maybe…with this commitment, we can make something of it, something new aside from what you know.” Though Alois knew his body was practically that of a mask to cover his true identity, he still found comfort in it. He was warmer than previously, pulsating with flowing blood, skin that was just right against his. All of it was so inviting, the sensations of being alive, together, with the obvious boundary of immortality on Ciel’s part. Alois wished Ciel knew just how much he needed this.

“It could be like our own little secret life, Ciel. We can recreate anything we want. We can fill the voids. It could be like…nobody else ever existed…”. Alois could only imagine how a world with just Ciel would make such a difference on the boy’s perspective. Would he learn to understand Alois’ intentions? Would he learn to grasp onto the general need to be loved? 

“I always thought that conquering something with you would be overwhelmingly pleasant.”

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

morsdecorus:

deathrebornrevolution:

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

…

It came as a surprise when Ciel actually did come when he was called. Perhaps he only did because he was still technically tied to this wish he made that was left irrelevant. Alois looked over his newly cursed physical stature in the dim lighting of his bedroom, trying with all of his might to just remember him as the troubled boy he once knew. He’ll forget that his body was a compartment for souls, and utmost darkness and evil. He’ll pretend that he’s just Ciel, and nothing more. How he wants him. How he wished him.

Words stumble up and over his tongue and past his lips, unable to find a beginning to his pseudo-epiphany. Instead, Alois uses what he knows most, and that’s the power of touch to try and persuade Ciel to fall to a manageable level.

Before Ciel could retaliate, Alois jumped up from the edge of his bed and slid his arms around the boy’s neck, bringing him into a close embrace. “Don’t move,” Alois spoke just above a whisper. He spent a moment allowing the dark-haired boy to be allowed to taste the feeling of want, the compassion of need. And then he spoke up once more, just behind his ear with hopes that a subtle approach would put a dent in his exterior.

“I get it now, Ciel, I get everything you meant. You wanted a way out of your life…it was like a prison, right? You could never live a normal life even if you got out…because you’ll always be tormented by your fate, and you couldn’t tell a soul…I get it. I know what it feels like.” He closes his eyes momentarily, begging with all of his being that Ciel doesn’t push him away at any moment. Please don’t avoid me anymore.

“Sometimes…I wondered what would happen if I let myself out of my own cage. But then…what if I forgot how to fly? What if I get caught again? What if I end up back in that cage? So…I thought, maybe…I could just have someone spend time with me in that cage, so at least it wouldn’t feel too empty. But…I made a mistake and I threw you back in, and…I just wanted you to be a part of my fate again. Whatever happens to me, whether you’re responsible or not, I’d at least like for someone like you to be there through it all. You’re someone I can tell; I hoped I could be that person you could finally share your misery with…you wouldn’t have to keep hiding it. You shouldn’t owe me…I owe you now.”

morsdecorus:

deathrebornrevolution:

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution: beautiful death.: deathrebornrevolution:…

deathrebornrevolution:

beautiful death.:…

Already having been tired of Ciel’s sharp words, he had already been preparing himself to throw away this useless wish, having known only one thing, and that was to keep away from everyone. Especially, they will all hurt you and then abandon you. But it was when he’d heard that name that struck him in the heart like a jagged stake that his entire being had unhinged. It were as if time had slowed to a crawl, making each stab into his chest extensive and completely unbearable. His breath had caught in his throat, his eyes filling with an emotion he’s forgotten about completely. The remembrance of someone he held close, someone who, out of all the rest, believed in him and stood tall for him, who cared about his well being. There was an incredible sadness while touching this feeling after so long, and suddenly, it seemed as though nothing mattered anymore as long as he was gone.

“…Lu..ca…”, he shuddered, his face turning pale as he reminisced. He was a much younger boy, with an innocent appearance of his big brown eyes and his autumn colored hair. He, unlike Ciel, was the definition of a companion, so much, that he called him his brother. He adopted him into his life filled with rejection and loss, though shining a new light on an idea of revenge. Take back what was stolen from you. Without Luca, perhaps things wouldn’t have happened the way they did, but without him, he would’ve never made it. And now that he was gone and has been gone, what’s he to do? Live a life with just Hannah alone? Is there no chance for complete happiness? 

Alois had had enough of this. No more revealing of the truth, no more digging his voids even deeper. He didn’t care what the status was for Ciel. He was a character who would refuse to feel empathy for anyone at all.

He climbed up slowly from his position on the floor and climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up and turning his back towards Ciel. He didn’t have to wish for a friend out of thin air; all he had to do was wish for Luca to come back to him. Why was he brought back alone? Chances are, in this game of life and death and the power of demons, nothing is ever meant to be fair.

Ciel realizes the gravity of it too late. His own words bit at him like a nest of vipers and he looks away. If Alois wanted him to leave, then fine, he would leave. And he wouldn’t come back until he was summoned — why should he care what some entitled jealous little brat wants out of his life? He can easily go back to caring for himself.

There is no taking back what he’s said and he knows that. So as soft and quiet as he comes he leaves.

“You have no one to blame but yourself for everything that’s happened now.”

He always has to have the last word. Always has to be the one with the upper hand, he’s a maniac for control and not having it would drive him to the brink of insanity. Not being able to be in control of his own fate would break him. And it will, if Alois comes to understand everything he’s doing and why — he prays it doesn’t come to that. He doesn’t want his facade broken down so easily, not after he’s spent so many years carefully constructing this fortress around his heart.

Quite a few days had passed before Alois wanted to even speak. Digging up unwanted truths of his apparent past life and finding out possibly the most crushing of mysteries left his heart stunned. To remember now why he turned out the way he was beginning to make so much more sense. He was realizing how much he would rather not continue to feel this way in another timeframe, another life. It was torturous to be giving another chance. At what? He questioned this each and every day of that period without Ciel. 

And then he realized exactly what it was Ciel had meant that evening.

He had to call upon him. He knew the boy wouldn’t want anything to do with how he felt, but he had to set the record straight, both with himself and with Ciel. He wondered if he knew he was needed, with this new physical form, if his powers were weakened to any degree. He climbed out of bed and stood at the foot of it, contemplating how to contact his ‘companion’.

What a dumb idea to assume Ciel could read his thoughts. He sighed lightly, sitting back on the edge of the bed. “Ciel, you idiot, come back already.”