Archive of Our Own ^beta

my blade pierced through her skin like paper; sinking deep into her flesh and bursting through the other side with such ease it could be mistaken for cutting cake. a burbling sound escaped from her mouth, gagging on her own blue blood now clogging up her throat. perhaps she would die of suffocation before she succumbed to blood loss. a strong blueberry scent washed over me, drowning out the slick smell of metal with a sharp and sour taste. one i was so recently familiar with, one i used to have on my tongue so often.

her body rapidly shakes,unable to comprehend what had just happened- wasting what’s left of her energy to bring her hand up to examine her ruptured chest. a gasp, a choke, quiet as a mouse but all i could hear, the small noises of her life being cut short echoing in my ears. i slowly pulled the weapon out of her back, forcing myself to listen to the squelching of cerulean liquid that now flowed and rippled down her golden clothes. biting my tongue so hard it drew blood, i pressed my face against her wild, tangled mess of hair, feeling it prick and bounce against my skin.

i felt her crumble and hunch over, croaks of agony breaking from her throat, falling out in unintelligible broken words that would cling to my conscience for sweeps to come. her raspy cries of despair carve scars in my mind, carefully ripping at places and memories i hold close.

i am thankful i can’t see. i am thankful i can’t see the painful death of vriska serket, or how she’ll slowly bleed out, or how she’ll reach out for me, or for something that is beyond us, something only she can touch. my eyes are freed from having to be a witness in her murder case, but i wish my heart was too. i wish i didn’t have to live with our memories stained by the fact that i brought her life to an end, or that i will no longer hear her jagged laugh, or taste her tart blueberry scent.

she falls. it isn’t graceful, nor is it quiet. it’s clumsy, brass and blocky, with staggered movements and a loud thud that rang bells in my ears. her body is a statue, but the rough scratching of her breath proves to me she’s desperate for a comeback, trying at anything to stay strong- alive. i don’t move, for the fear that if i did, her bony, bloody hand would grip my leg as if it’s her last lifeline. i swallow down sick, it burns my throat and soon my mouth is on fire, but i open it and the now vile stench of blood pours in. it must be pooling around her by now, completely engulfing her in cerulean.

i hear her take her last breath. i imagine her giving into death, throwing herself over the edge into darkness, her world caving in. as much as i try to leave, i can’t; she’s a magnet that just draws me in, leaving me in a state where i’m unable to convince myself to abandon her. a moment goes by, then two, three, and then i’m on the floor, allowing the liquid to swarm around my knees and dye my costume blue. her blue.

carefully, i place her head upon my legs. i try to ignore how cold her skin suddenly is, but it’s such a unfamiliar sense that it creeps into my mind and locks itself in place. i slowly trace over her face, surrounding myself in her, swallowing my fears in replace of her. this girl, the girl whose head hangs limp in my lap, was everything, and she’d ruin my life to come. she’d never let me forget how guilty i am, constantly reminding me of how i betrayed her, how i stabbed her in the back and was never given a sentence.

a tear slid down my cheek. then waterfalls, teal streaming down, splashing into her fresh blood and hopping back up again. i cry because i loved her. i know that, as i wrap my fingers in her curls, and bury my hands below her head that i was flushed red for a girl who would no longer exist in my life.

everything hit me at once. i never wanted her to die- but i couldn’t just let her go off and wreak havoc upon even more. i had done the right thing, and i would continue to tell myself that, no matter how many times i didn’t believe it. what if we meet again? she could never forgive me- that’s just not how this works. i couldn’t forgive me. i couldn’t forget. and neither could she. she’ll be wandering for days, going back over how her best friend betrayed her, how her scourge sister murdered her in cold blood, how her moirail left her to die on the icy rock.

i grasped tighter at her hair, i never wanted to let go, never wanted to leave her.

my name is terezi pyrope and i am guilty for the stone cold murder of vriska serket.

she died today . and, a part of me died with her.