sodoffyabuggers:

cdwalker:

[So tire. She was bone tired. Almost too tired to even try and get the knife out of her own head, but right now, that wasn’t the concern. About to rush to Worth’s side as she often knew how, her focus was thrown to the other, eyes narrowed as she remained on her hind legs, the hulking, bleeding mass of blackened and bloody scales staring directly at William as he fell apart. She saw. She SAW. He wasn’t coming back from this. Would not come back from this. His body was failing. He was failing. The monster was finally failing.

It all ended here.

The final standoff between them. And while she knew that Worth could have possessed the power to destroy William with help from the crown, Charlie finally came to the realization that she didn’t need a crown. She didn’t need destructive powers because she was already capable of it. There was something building so dangerously inside of her that even though she’d nearly hit her own limit, she would do this. This one last thing. Because if not, it would explode and erupt into something much more dangerous and she needed to U S E it against him. To finish him. Once and for all.

When she saw him making his way back towards them - back towards the crown - she knew that she had no choice. Didn’t care for the crown at all, didn’t give two shits about that thing, but it was good bait. Good bait because it brought him right where she wanted him. And standing up on hind legs, she took in a breath. Prepared herself. And waited until he was close enough.

It ended here.

With a horrifying shriek that echoed through the are and into the sky and through the ground with a rumbling, deep boom, Charlie released something she did not know she was capable of. A steady, yet deadly stream of blue-tinted flame that burst from her like hellfire, directed right at the lingering form of the man known as William in order to burn and destroy and D E C I M A T E. No mercy would be spared, no hesitation. And though she felt the energy draining from her, felt her blood boiling to near dangerous levels from the continuous torrent of flame, she kept on. Kept advancing and expelling that fire until she could no longer. Until she could smell charred skin and flesh and bone. Until she was sure he would not get back up again.

When there was nothing left, she dropped back down onto all fours, panting and coughing up a fair amount of gore from somewhere inside. Perhaps the lining of her stomach, but she wasn’t sure. But it was okay. It was worth it. The flames were worth it.

Knife still lodged into her skull, she stared at what remained of the man. Wanted to see if she’d at least done enough damage to keep him down.

She had nothing else to offer.

She could only hope that he was finally dead.] 

*He couldn’t move. Christ, he couldn’t m o v e. No sound came to him, blocked by the immense amount of pain sitting in his head like a huge unmovable rock, but he could feel the vibrations of Charlie’s feet. Of her attack. Of her loveandfearandrage coming out and inside he fucking screamed for the woman he loved above all others, screamed and cheered for her, but when he opened his mouth no sound came out there either. It was too much. The crown was a circle of needles (not barbs but needles what the fuck?) laying lightly in his hand and there were shadows escaping into the beautiful blue sky, blotting out the clouds as they retreated. Nothing more to see here, show’s over, but it wasn’t over, the ground was shaking and it was as hot as fuck and the sky was black and blue and—

He managed to sit up, just in time to see William lit up like a firecracker. Like a b ur n nin g man. An effigy just for them. But no not just for them, for every goddamn person that he’d ever laid his nasty, slimy fingers on, for every person he ever made to feel worthless, for every life he ever ruined, and CHARLIE was doing that, HIS Charlie, and in that moment (even through the pain even though he felt like he could barely stand) he couldn’t be more p r o u d of her. 

He went to her then, letting the crown fall to the grass beside William. The body, as far as Worth could tell, was just that at this point. Just a husk, or at least in it’s last fiery death throes. So the fact that the crown fell just a few inches from William’s hand didn’t concern him. Just for a few moments, William didn’t concern him. He went to Charlie first, went to that knife still sticking out of her fallen frame and pulled it out. Just y a nk ed it the FUCK out and you weren’t supposed to do that, (he was a DOCTOR don’t you know, didn’t he know, at some point long ago he’d been a-) but what else was he supposed to do? That knife needed to come OUT and she’d be okay, even if she ended up losing her life, even he ended up losing his heart, she’d at least have that goddamn KNIFE out of her head and she’d be okay. 

He shrugged off his coat, wrapping it around her the best he could. It hardly fit around her skull but it was something at least, and he couldn’t do anything else until she’d been taken care of. Until he’d leaned his forehead against hers and told her, quickly, softly, just for her, that she had done so well and he was so proud and he was so s o r  r y please forgive him please.

And then he turned to William. Blood dripped into his eyes from some physical wound in his head, something inside of him dripped from some metaphysical wound, but when he fell to his knees it was to take up that knife that had felled the woman he loved and slice into William’s chest. A few well placed stabs and he was ripping, tearing, reaching his already bloodsoaked hands into that burned husk and searing his own knuckles and fingertips from the leftover dragon fire but he didn’t care he wanted

the heart. 

And he got it. Panting and bloody, he got it. All on his own too. 

He staggered back to Charlie and laid the heart in front of her. And then sat down. And then laid down.*

Only a select few times in his wretched life has William ever appropriately responded to anguish.
           This is One.
Searing flames bubble what little skin is left, boil and rupture his other eye, fry his fat, and char his bones.

The screams erupting from the blazing mass can be heard throughout the city. Inhuman. Desperate and hurtingsomuchofthishurtingthing 

and Once the assault from the slavehas finished, the thud that follows the fall seems to shake the Earth itself.
No more witty remarks.
No more clever retorts.
No more biting riddles.
Only a wheezing noise escapes from lungs marred and scorched and lungs no more. Meat.

The man, now. A vengeful act. A just act.
Thou, whom has taken so much from so many,
So must it be taken from thou.

One last touch, One last sense of feeling. A heart leaving a dead man’s body. A piece one may not expect such a monster to possess; but why take from so many without having one himself? Power. I have while you have not.
Now, though? The motionless thing is meat.

Nothing more than the meat with which he toyed.
   Toyed
              Toys

They do nothing. No thing. Dead eyes stare, Watch the scene before them. There must be hundreds now, having slunk from the shadows.

Placid things now– with no rider at the reins, they are merely parts. Parts of people abducted from homes, ripped away from families, taken off the streets. Parts of people who have left behind others, children, friends, relatives. Shells holding lost souls, souls longing for release from their prisons.
There is no threat here. There is no light of killing in their sullen features.
Yet despite the torture and agony wrought them by William, they cry.
They mourn.
William is the only thing they have known. have Known.
And now there is nothing. Some slink away, others drop to the ground; without One to guide them, they are lost.

Lost.
The Servants.
                                                      L   o   s   t