HP -- In Blood
Title: In Blood
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Regulus Black
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 209
Warnings: blood and more blood, and pretentious bloody images
Summary: Regulus black sees in blood.
Author's Note: I only realized later how amazingly emo this was.
IN BLOOD
Regulus Black sees in blood.
He does not see his brother, the sidekick, the quiet one, and their tagalong. He sees two blood traitors and two Half-Bloods.
He hears the blood, too, hears it slurping obediently through his veins, one sucking surge at a time. He thinks it is strange that this is what keeps him alive. He wonders how long it will manage to recreate this miracle, a million times a day. He thinks it may fail sooner than he likes.
Regulus Black dreams in blood as well. He dreams of pulling back his sleeve and using an emerald-encrusted dagger to slash the snake and the skull from his skin, and he dreams that the blood bubbles forth. He dreams of tasting it, of the acrid, rusty tang of it burrowing into his tongue, and the seeping liquid fills hit throat, chokes him, strangles him, and he closes his eyes, writhing against inevitability written in blood.
When he lifts his eyelids, he is floating on his back on a clotting crimson sea, staring up at the bruised expanses of the sky, where clouds the hue of blood swirling, diluted, down the drain bob like buoys.
He wants to grab one and paddle to shore, but he can’t reach.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Regulus Black
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 209
Warnings: blood and more blood, and pretentious bloody images
Summary: Regulus black sees in blood.
Author's Note: I only realized later how amazingly emo this was.
IN BLOOD
Regulus Black sees in blood.
He does not see his brother, the sidekick, the quiet one, and their tagalong. He sees two blood traitors and two Half-Bloods.
He hears the blood, too, hears it slurping obediently through his veins, one sucking surge at a time. He thinks it is strange that this is what keeps him alive. He wonders how long it will manage to recreate this miracle, a million times a day. He thinks it may fail sooner than he likes.
Regulus Black dreams in blood as well. He dreams of pulling back his sleeve and using an emerald-encrusted dagger to slash the snake and the skull from his skin, and he dreams that the blood bubbles forth. He dreams of tasting it, of the acrid, rusty tang of it burrowing into his tongue, and the seeping liquid fills hit throat, chokes him, strangles him, and he closes his eyes, writhing against inevitability written in blood.
When he lifts his eyelids, he is floating on his back on a clotting crimson sea, staring up at the bruised expanses of the sky, where clouds the hue of blood swirling, diluted, down the drain bob like buoys.
He wants to grab one and paddle to shore, but he can’t reach.