caelestalis‌:

CHERNABOG. ’ You look like shit. ‘ while he loved watching everyone hit that grimy depth, while he loved to press close to the ground and hear the sweet sweet sound of their inevitable shattering      but he’s on the clock. ‘ Look at you, falling to indulgence. ‘ the phantasmal cosmic wills the bottle to rip itself from the hellspawn’s grip and finding a new home in chernabog’s grip. a low growl spills from his throat. a hum with a rather odd, rymthic tune… like as if it were a song, a lullaby even. a shame there wasn’t time to listen close. in his drunken, half-mad state, it might’ve been a semblance of peace. chernabog takes his own taste of the swill that’s taken blackheartson by the balls. the darkness spat, letting the acid and bile that formed at his tongue from touching the vile liquid fall to the ground and burn a hole deep into the earth. fucking nasty.

        ‘ You could do better. ‘ 

he didn’t need to hear the quite obvious.  his state was done out of the necessary obligation to state that itch he never could simply scratch. he was attempting to do better- to not fall prey to more demonic urges. to prove he was better than his family – it was an idiotic hope and it lead to his late nights and many days of drinking constantly. 

so, when the bottle was taken, he simply snorted – why should he even bother trying to take it back when he’d have others soon enough. his head lifted slightly at the growl, but lowered again as the vile liquid burnt  through the ground like pure acid. that was going to be a bitch to  clean up – luckily for him he wasn’t planning on staying longer than a few more hours in this spot. 

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‘yeah, well… i  still have a ways to fall before hitting rock bottom – unless you wanna join the ride? maybe make it quicker?’

once, he may have been happy to revel in the blood on his hands, but he wasn’t in that sort of mood. nor did he think he ever would be  again. his depressive state  had lasted far more than a few hours – it had turned into the last three weeks. now,  he was just  hitting rock bottom. a new low and he wasn’t in the mood for this or anything at the moment.

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“what do you want?” a  simple question, but one as he’d hit the bottom of his sixth bottle of whiskey. “it better be important.”

// @caelestalis -Chernabog