Miseria Cantare
The Angel of the Blind sees through the Hawk's eyes.

[ An independent rp blog affiliated with the Delta Green Initiative universe. But i'll rp with anyone, really. Also, just fyi, this isn't strictly Clint Barton; it's an angel who uses him as a vessel.]

NSFW at times (mainly gore) but all is tagged.


Where is deliverance? 
Will you walk with, walk with me?

Where is forgiveness?
The lash is tired and it seems to see.

Give me deliverance
From your history topped with lies

Where is your witness?
There is none,
Hide your wings and we’ll take the sky.

You will never feel so alive
As you will the day that you see
The sacred ways that are playing
To bring a new faith.

Smile tonight
In the sacred light
And you will look like a new God.

Smile tonight
For you have arrived
Arrived to bring the Heavens down.

Who is the savior?
You can walk this 
Golden Sea.

For just this moment
Close your eyes and die with me.

Who needs forgiveness
When we all speak fluent lies?

Here is deliverance
You’re in it
Lose yourself and we’ll take the sky.

Smile tonight
For you have arrived
Arrived to bring the Heavens  d o w n.

Welcome to Hell.

The Noose


Jane swore softly as the Fallen Angel vanished and the bullet embedded itself in the wall. She didn’t have enough time to wonder where he was as suddenly nails were in her shoulder and a snide voice was in her ear. He was not her Stag Lord. He did not love her. This was going to hurt.

With gritted teeth, the Detective tore herself away from Raphael. Thankfully her coat and shirt saved her any real damage, but winter coat shopping would have to start sooner rather than later. Whispering a soft prayer to her patron god for swift feet and a strong heart, Jane ran.

Raphael couldn’t fly. His wing had been maimed by Robin Goodfellow, legendary teeth and claws digging into soft fragile flesh.

But he no longer needed wings, after all he’d been through.

Oh, he had his prize now, his unlimited power. His tools of torture, truly, now, the pleasure that came from blood dripping down his arms magnified by the notion of his supremacy.

Which is why he let her run, for a while, past marble and statues and plaques and old, old graves, names of men long gone, nothing but memories.

Until she turned a corner, and there he was, eye burning, pupil and iris gone in favor of rage, and blade tight in his grasp.

Here, little fawn.”

The Noose


At the mention of Izrial and Natasha, Jane swallowed hard and her eyes narrowed. She couldn’t allow him to deter her. Couldn’t allow him to tear her down and destroy her resolve. He had chosen his path. He had chosen to betray his brothers and become something to be feared. No. Pitied. She did not fear him. The Detective refused to fear him. At the end of it all, Raphael had nothing. He was empty.

“You will not mention them in my presence. You do not have the right.”

The slightest tremor, but it was anger. Pure fury. Bile rose in her throat as she shifted the gun slightly to aim for the Fallen Angel’s left eye. It might not be able to save her, but it could save her a little time. The Detective allowed everything within her to become still and quiet. Her eyes narrowed on her target. She breathed out and fired.

As painful as it was, Hellfire did, of course, offer some advantages. Angel and Demon combined? Hellish, yes.

But helpful.


He sighed, shrugged as the gun fired.

"Wouldn’t do that."

And off he slipped out of view, into thin air, the bullet whizzing in the emptiness he left behind. A heartbeat, nothing more.

But he was behind her, now, nails digging into her shoulders, gritting teeth inches from her ear.

"I like playing with my food, I thought by now you’d know that.”

And then he disappeared again.

The Noose


She was stood straight and turned around with the gun that Natasha had given her the second he spoke. Eyes dark with determination and her teeth clenched shut, the Detective pointed the gun at the Fallen Angel. If this was it. If this was her time, then she was going to go down fighting and do as much damage to Raphael as she could. His eyes. I’ll take his fucking eyes. He doesn’t deserve them. Despite her fear, Jane managed to stay completely still. Not a single tremor ran through her body as she stared her enemy down. Too much. She had been through too much in such a short space of time and she had had enough. If you plan to take everything for me, I will gladly do the same to you. 

“What do you want, Raphael?”

Jane was pleased that her voice was low, but did not hold the tremor of fear she felt deep down inside. She may be a Doe, but the Hunt was rushing through her veins and as she breathed out she could almost feel the Stag Lord behind her. Moss and vines hanging from mighty antler. Warm breath huffed through her hair and clawed hands resting on her shoulders. All in her head, but it was enough to make her stand tall and strong. She was my friend you fucking arsehole. He is my everything you piece of shit.

A poorly masked laugh slipped past his lips, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

He shook his head.

"I’d say I want your life. Or your heart."

He smirked.

"And I will, take it, mark my words. I already ripped its eyes out."

He eyed the gun tight in her hand, similar to the one Natasha had fired at him merely weeks before, and he tilted his head to the side.

"That tiny little toy of yours didn’t save her. What ever makes you think it will save you?”

The Noose


The whole fucking world is against us. Fuck this. I need to get out. I need to work. I can’t look at anyone anymore. I can’t help anyone. I’m only human. I have nothing to offer anyone here. I need to go back to work. I love you, Izzy. I love you. I love you. I love you. But that isn’t going to bring Nat back. That isn’t going to give back what Duma lost. That isn’t going to give you your Brother back. I am lost, my darling. My Love. I can’t just sit here and hope, Angel-Face. I can’t just wait to die. I can’t have the threat of Raphael constantly hovering over me. I need to go to work. I need to be where I can be of use. Where I can help. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Jane had been working on the new serial murder case from home. Whenever she went outside there was always someone with her. Be it Izrial, Ci or Robin, she was never alone. Heck, even Jesse had been enrolled in Little Blonde Detective Watch. She didn’t mind it too much and Jesse was a laugh so it made things a little easier. But she was officially on holiday and her Guard Dogs friends were not allowed on crime scenes with her. Peter was keeping her up to date, but it had gotten to a point where she had to go in. This was her job, this was what she was good at.

Both Peter and Jane had poured over the paperwork and photos over and over again. Checking it over with paranoid precision to see if any of it had Raphael or Demon written all over it. It didn’t not the slightest smudge. The whole thing was horribly human. And yet Jane felt more in her element. The Detective felt bad about the relief she felt at ordinary human horror. But this was something she could do. This was a way she could help. In the human world she was still useful. And wasn’t just waiting for her time to die.

The Detective made her way to Westminster Abbey where the latest victim was found. Eighteen years old. Brunette hair and blue eyes. Tall and gangly limbs as if she hadn’t quite grown into her body yet. The body had been removed long before she got there, but Jane would be able to look at it later. Now was her quiet time. Time left alone to survey the crime scene and try and find anything others may have missed. Tucking the photo of the young woman into her jacket, she pulled on medical gloves and bent down to study what seemed to be nail scratches along the floor. 

Raphael was empty.

Less empty than usual, now that fire burned through his veins and scorched his soul, but empty, nonetheless. Filled nearly to the brim, but not quite.

And of course, Hellfire in an Angel’s body was, on occasion, bound to hurt.

Hurt and make his eyes sting, the type of pain one remembers in nightmares (the living, lucid hallucinations that plagued him, Demon’s pain and Sinner’s flesh melting) and in wake, and all of it summed and fed an already raging fire behind broken eye and bulging one. So Raphael was empty.

And in desperate need to be filled.

But gift wrapped in her foolishness, the Snake was there, the one who had started it all, and who had hurt him and tore his brother away from him, and oh, sin, sin, sin - she reeked of it.

She reeked of it, he longed to wash her, flip the skin off of her bones, rip it, turn it, twist it.

Hands nearly shaking.

"Quite a gloomy day, isn’t it?"

But that could wait, as he stood a few feet behind her, and lips curled in cruel smirk.

silvertonguesewnlips replied to your photo: is it monday munday whatever let’s jump on the…

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Falling, after all, is just a faster way of getting down where you belong.


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