dreamyoncs

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

No matter how quiet the river gushes,   the answers will never be heard.   They do linger around the pines,   in between the roots of those growing giants.   The green daughters and sons of mother nature have been around a long time,   they know when a son isn’t really a son,   but a slab of meat on the butcher’s table.   Not that he had spoken aloud of the old bruises,   the ghosts of punishments that can never seem to find their way home.     Not that he was anything other than the scarecrow of a boy he had always been meant to be.    He rustles in the wind,   lets his bed of damp straw in his heart dry out under the sun.   This whole time he is expected to be silent,   unseen,    unheard,   unnoticed.   He is not a man,  but a floor mat,   the peeling wallpaper of a family farmhouse that hasn’t survived the month’s drought.  This biblical offering is more than skin and small gasps.    This is worship in the holiest of meaning,   the very beginning of lust and reverence.  Religion more so in flesh and tongue,      rather than worship and intricate ceilings.     He had easily found himself wrapped around another spine.    An eater that held a bottomless appetite,       a woman that refused pretty apples and instead wanted the bleak core of rot.       Is he speaking of the girl he is in love with, or the entity inside of her?   He has decided to enjoy the heat of her firestorm.       He will let his cheekbones grow hollow and soulless.     The sacrifice of letting someone see all corners of oneself,     even those dark alleyways that has been long since abandoned.    If this is what it means to survive with honest intentions,     then he will melt his own hair and spin his own head.     Possession always began with the heart.   How it was weighed down with stones and hay when tossed into the roaring rivers of devotion.     Yes, he will say to himself in the shadowland of fantasy,      he could thrive in this weather.      Let the sandstorms come and wipe his existence from the earth,       leaving only ivory bone and old teeth.      Only if it means she would touch him once more.       Those fingers of rage and delicate intervention between heaven and purgatory.        The silence that had always followed the primal acts of ecstasy baring resemblance to visions of renaissance paintings,       the whites of eyes glowing like demented angels.       He will consistently find himself in the woods looking for redemption.       Forgiveness that comes to him like a hesitant doe,       but chews on him like a pack of wolves during the coldest of winters.       There are some things he should have left buried.      Davina Claire and her ability to strip him bare is one of them.    Still,       he searches for all pieces of her in his day to day life.       A scavenger hunt of a dead crow.      A discovery to yearn for venom in his bloodstream once more.    It’s a honeyed venom,  at least,   a slow death.   A death that allows for hallucinations of the future,   premonitions laced in each breath she takes as a moan.    He hadn’t wanted to stop touching her.   Wanted to push her against the truck and taste her deeper,   as far as she’d let him.   He’s led with a tug,   the obedient beast following in a slow trot as he opens the door for her and then climbs up the driver’s side,   sitting down with an exhale.   The grin is delightfully oozed along his mouth,   sugar-sweet and decisively teasing.  ‘  Are you jealous?   ‘Cause you sound a little jealous.   What can I say,   I know how to show girls a good time.   You looking to keep me focused on just one?   ‘   Not an ounce of regret,   he sings the tune of a proud dictator.   A misconstrued perception that had been picked up by watching his father interact with women.  Not that he wanted to be him.   Not that he was him,   by any means   -   although he often fantasizes devouring his own heart.   There’s a moment of a pause,   pulse half-heartedly continuing to keep him alive,   mostly out of spite.  ‘   Burgers sound good to you?  ‘   A mumble as the truck pulls out of the parking lot,   turns down the main street and heads to the diner.   Fingers tapping along the steering wheel as his gaze settles on her for a second or two before fixating back on the road in front of them.  ‘    So,    what does this witch business of yours involve,  anyway?  Is it dangerous?  ‘

          davina could now see better that love itself was a sacrifice on its own.  the whole thing required its seekers to strip off their restraints and stand raw and naked before it.  so that they could prove themselves worthy of it, that they would carry it on their shoulders and in their hearts  --  and not be crushed under the weight of it.  it was nothing like those romanticized ideas of it in which it came slow and easy and settled through her hair like a summer breeze.  it was a snowstorm that burned her cheeks with its ice cold shards, coming without a warning, hitting her when she least expected.  but it was all welcomed.  perhaps she should have ran away, away into the woods when her heart leaped from within the girl and into the hands of the man  --  but the woods were him, too, right?  the reason why she had not given into the chains on her wrists holding her down for the first time in her life was that she knew there was no escape from this.  she could turn her head when he leaned in to kiss her for the very first time, but her heart would never look away from him.  she could walk away but her soul would remain next to the other.  she could claim she would be on her own but she was his.  no matter how much she could try and not to give in, the reality would always sink in her heart as a reminder of what she had lost in a moment of fear.  taking that one leap of faith would probably always be what she was most proud of because she proved herself.  she peeled off that heavy dress of doubt in herself and stood bare under his gaze when he gave her a choice.  a choice to throw it all away at the cost of being each other’s forever what if.  but she chose him over any lingering worry and that would be the first of many to come.  she would always choose him.  over anything, over anyone.  and she would do her best to let him know that he was someone’s, davina’s, person.  he was not spendable, he was not to given up on, he was not to be sacrificed.  he deserved the world and after burying her worries of not being enough into the soil of the very spot they were standing on and hoping they would not sprout into more insecurities, all she could do was to do anything in her power to give him nothing less than that.  even when he was determined to play her like that, pulling at her strings and preying playfully on that bloom of jealousy within her.  it was a silly thing to let him succeed in that as well but the witch couldn’t help it.  her skin itched at the thought of just how many women had been closer to him than she ever was, how they felt every inch of his skin that she was yet to discover.  but how could the jealousy not boil in her veins at the mention of this despite knowing the playful nature to that?  pulse picking up in speed and falling agape a few times wordlessly, she then looked out the window as she spoke.     “  you looking to settle on just one?  ”     the question slipping past her lips in the same tone as his, she then turned her head to look at the man.     “  maybe you should meet me in the halfway.  ”     a raised eyebrow, then the nod of her head at the mention of burgers were all she gave him as he got them out of the parking lot and set on the way.  at his questions, though, she laid her head against the seat and gazed at him, lips pulling into a grin.     “  very dangerous.  especially for boys who love picking on the witch.  ”     a breathy chuckle, she then lifted her shoulders.     “  haven’t got my ass bit by an unleashed demon or an eternal curse yet.  it’s mostly just lifting binds off objects, placing new ones on some...  at a cost, of course.  a girl’s gotta look after herself after all.  ”     lifting her shoulders, she tilted her head to the side with the grin still present.     “  like i said, though, if you need a little magic you got me.  it’s free for you, i promise.  ”     a chuckle, she then directed her gaze to the road.

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

If the guard is not protecting someone he cares about,    does he exist at all?    Is he trapped within the confines of limbo,    the inky darkness keeping him in a constant loop of fear.   The house had been a cold hearth,    great hallways of golden chandeliers and voices that bounce off marble tiles and against the mahogany of doors.    There was always the smell of richness in the air,   a floating scent of pine and mint.   Meant to keep those inside awake and alert,   as though they were living through wartimes,   but in politics there was always a conflict to straighten out.   Guiding himself through the unstable moods of his father was no different.   He studied him like a hawk with a field mouse,   kept his jaw locked unless he was required to speak.    He let the windows rattle when the hurricanes came calling,   anything to appear aged and extraordinarily in control.   How else does a tool learn how to become a wielder?    How else does the nail become the hammer?    The gods do not look at the lambs when they refuse to bleat,    the butcher is not pleased when the meat turns soiled and grey.    After all,   the tenderest part of the body is the heart.   What is his worth now that it’s all stained and torn apart?   What is left of him that’s salvageable?   The boy who failed,   the man who will only succeed his father through his walk to the gallows,    the keyhole for his identity shrinks by the minute.    This is why he feels the conviction of protectiveness over Davina,   the desire to prove himself not as a righteous saviour,  but as a man.    Like anything he does in his life,   there is the hate for his father blending with his desperation for his father’s approval.   Pathetic,    weak-boned,   jaw-slacked.   He truly was a beast.  He listens to her thoughtfully,   chews on her words as they settle themselves over him like warm velvet.  A mixture of frustration and utter devotion causes a clenched out exhale to shake through him,   the back of his throat marred by the force of it.   ‘   And I need you safe.   I don’t [ … ]  trust this town,   the people in it.   Weird shit keeps happening and I don’t like the idea of you being caught in the middle of anything.  ‘  He’s trying to explain this in hopes to dissuade her from keeping him alive.  His death would not precisely be a godless act,   but his bones were sacrificial.   He had only ever felt alive on the pyre,   burning for someone who had left a cut on his lip,   or a swollen lump on his forehead.    He wants to say more,   to tell her some cracked open secret that his lungs have breath for,   but he pauses.  Halts physically as she repositions herself,   the multiple displays of kissing,   her siren-like movements rippling through his vision.   He’s kissing her back,  hungrily,   firmly,   her mouth warm and wet.   His hands sliding to her thighs, parting them a bit wider,  only slightly.   Fingers now moving up her shirt,  gentle and explorative,   enjoying how her skin feels underneath his palm.  He stops just before the lace bralette,   breath heavy,   a small swallow as he pulls away.   Eyes searching hers for some kind of earth shattering clue that this isn’t real,   that she’s a dream he’s made up and he’s drowning somewhere in an ocean.    Tongue sliding along his bottom lip,   the sound of his pulse shooting through him is a drumming background noise.  ‘   I don’t   [ … ]  want to do anything you’re not comfortable with,  Davina.   God,   I just can’t stop touching you,   you know?   ‘

          this was not a battle of power.  not a competition of sacrifice either.  they both had the need to protect fiercely within them, written on their bones and every single fragment that made them what they were.  each for their own reasons and own ways, but the outcome was the same; no matter what the other demands, not even if they explicitly ask that they put themselves before the other, it wouldn’t change.  their mouths would fall agape to utter that they would put their own skins first yet whenever the time came, they would still be stepping into the line without a single thought.  without the tiniest of doubt.  davina knew very well that they could talk about it till the darkness broke apart and sun rose to shine a light on all their worries, sweeping lingering fears under the rug for the next nightfall.  yet not much would change.  in the end of the day, they would do whatever they had to in order to protect the other and worry about themselves later if at all.  another thing was that she knew that ache in his chest so well.  she knew the desperate need to keep what you love safe at all costs right in her heart.  that’s why there was no fighting over this, no claims that either of them were in the wrong.  there was nothing more natural than tyler’s promise to not let that wolf come near her again.  and despite all her worries that he might get hurt at it, she appreciated that.  her heart thundered in her chest as she looked at him, seeing just how much he cared.  they were a rare occurrence, stars aligning once in a life time, the whole universe coming together for their union.  and there he was, sat right in the center of her life, whole heart belonging to him  &  him only.     “  neither do i.  i can feel something brewing.  i know it.  i don’t want to be roped into anything either.  i just want to be normal once and...  happy.  ”     lifting her shoulders as genuine words came easy to her in his presence, she looked down for a moment, shaking her head.     “  we’ll be careful and we’ll be safe.  together.  ”     she finally decided on the only way that they would both be content with.  that was a promise she could make.  when she leaned in to kiss him, it was not to stop him from giving her any protest but to bask in the touch of one another.  to remind the both of them that they still had this; very much alive, and warm, and each other’s.  she needed it just as much, what they had was -- and had always been right from the start  --  much beyond physical constraints, yet she always craved for his touch as well.  she knew why they had always stopped at some limit, though, and that was why she pulled away as soon as she felt his lips off hers.  his hands setting her skin on fire and milky thighs parting more comfortably as she shifted a bit in his lap, she gazed into his eyes.  she could see the uncertainity, she knew the reason behind it.  hell, despite that bold step, she probably looked flushed as well, yet her fingers ran through his dark hair as she leaned in until their noses touched.     “  i know.  i’m never uncomfortable with you.  ”     she admitted, hands moving on top of his to slide it along her skin, placing it over her chest -- right where her heart drummed.     “  it’s real.  ”     she whispered, hands then moving to cup his cheeks once more.     “  and it’s yours.  ”     a pause.     “  i’m yours.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

marhcel​:

⸻

The attachment had grown sickly sweet,  honeyed by the slow decay of time and reverence.  Witch-hood bleeding into loyalty,   a deep mutual respect that is not rooted in who they are,   but who they aren’t.  While Marcel has the taste of darkness in him,   the venom of a serpent and the claws of a panther,  he is quite tame around Davina Claire.  Her and her sparkle of a heart,  the pulse of it molasses as she seemed doll-like and helpless in the hospital bed.  Nothing like the entity he knew her as.  Nothing like the goddess of the harvest,  not for the blood inside her,  but her willing soul,   the core of it cracked open and raw for the empathy of humanity.   Shoulder leans against the doorframe,  a coy smile widens the mouth only to comfort her own concern. ‘   This?  This would classify as an emergency.  You didn’t call me.  ‘  Spoken without a pretense of judgment,  but more so paternal acceptance.  She is who she is,  shipwrecked among the stormy seas and still so certain that the shoreline is close enough to crawl to.   Fingers wrapped around the paper bag would prefer to wrap around whoever’s neck he had to threaten to rip into in order to get some answers for her.  The answers she needed,  but not necessarily wanted.  He shifts,  dress shoes shuffle forward and place the bag down on the blanket.  A nod,  an apologetic smile following.    ‘   Burgers.  Nice,  greasy burgers.  All yours.  No tomatoes,   of course.  ‘

          how could someone miss something that they never had?  at times, this felt like a wild concept.  could you crave for a fruit you have never tasted before?  could you feel homesick for a place you have never been to?  she didn’t suppose so.  yet the empty space was ever so present.  davina never knew her father, very little was spoken about him and those words were spat out as a venom.  of course she had wondered how her life would have been if her father stayed.  a lot of times, in fact.  but that question never had any answer.  not until she met marcel.  there had always been a paternal approach from the other towards her and davina valued what they had more than a lot of things.  the respect, loyalty and care she had for marcel had become so strong in time that she knew they would swallow anyone who tried to come in between whole.     “  nah.  barely a scratch.  ”     she said, lips pulling into a wider grin as she looked at the man before letting out a sigh.     “  it all happened too quickly.  and it’s not been long since i woke up.  i didn’t have a chance to call you to whine about it all before you showed up.  ”     still playful about the whole thing as if she didn’t look like a ghost under the sheets, her fingers wrapped around the bag to reveal its contents.     “  you had me at greasy.  have i ever told you i love you?  cause i do.  now i can be scolded in peace.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

alpha-as-hale​:

“Fifteen slays what now?” He asked in confusion at the witch’s sudden repulsion. And people around town thought he had a bad temper. “Sweetheart, sidenote about me: I’m only inspired by me, myself and I,” the werewolf added with a smirk, pretending her words hadn’t flown over his head. He was, after all, using his middle name and favorite color. However, by the way Davina’s heart was beating, the werewolf opted to keep that specific information to himself.

When she stopped, so did Peter. The gap between them wasn’t too wide, but the werewolf didn’t move an inch as Davina obviously was looking to go the human route…. Which was disappointing. 

There was a flash of wrath in his eyes that was abruptly overcome by curiosity as the witch finished speaking. Looking over his shoulder before leaning in, he paused. “… Can you really do that?” Peter questioned with sincere curiosity and even a kernel of admiration. He even forgot they weren’t on the best of terms. Then again, that was usually his stance with the whole world—if he’d let that stop him from socializing, he would only talk to himself. 

          “  fifteen slays what  --  what?  ”     eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted, davina tried to make sense of what he had just said, though it seemed like the more they talked the more they were pulling each other into further confusion.  so the witch simply decided to let that go, not having the time to ponder on the name he chose for himself.  yet she couldn’t help the roll of her eyes at the way he talked about himself, a sigh slipping past her lips.     “  aren’t you so down to earth...  humble as always, i see.  ”     she commented, which made her want to make him apologize for that encounter in the woods more.  not that it’d matter or she cared for it, only for the sake of it she would push him into a corner about that.  he was straying off the path, seemingly interested in her abilities rather than what this conversation was supposed to be about according to her.  arms crossing over the book pressed against her chest, davina raised a brow at him and pursed her lips.     “  i think i could arrange a trip to the other side if you really wish.  ”     she said, though of course it was all talk and she had not intention to harm the other.  yet.     “  but i believe we could settle for what you were meaning to say by approaching me.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

kitsuhne​:

⸻

For once, she hadn’t woken up with the immediate concern for the broken lightbulbs in her bedroom. There is nothing cracked, no foreboding scratches along the mirror in the room. It was simply normal. An ordinary morning with ordinary friends. Entirely out of her element, but allowing that giddy feeling to wash over her she had left to go to the corner cafe to grab a few coffees. Davina was easy to talk to, and the atmosphere had always been free of judgment or scorn that she had often encountered when being unsure of herself. Kira swallows down that anxiety that clings to her throat, a lump that grows and stretches with a life of its own at times. She wonders if she’s shared too much about her the night before. Did she make herself seem too small or too unstable? A wilted flower of a girl with not much else going for her? A hum of a chuckle as she nods in agreement, lips pressing together in a thin line before slipping into a wide smile. ‘Totally get you! I’m not sure I’ll even stay awake for class this morning. I mean[…]the lecture will be bad enough from my parents about staying up basically all night, but I really don’t need to hear it from any nosy professor.’ An exhale, the air between them feathery and soft. A comfortable space that allowed any words to be said without hesitation. She’s quiet for a moment as eyes glaze over slightly and vaguely take in the forms on the television screen. A glance to the side at the other girl, brows raised with newborn excitement. ‘You still coming to my game this weekend?’

          she had never realized just how much she was deprived of until she was on her own.  she never knew the importance of good  &  strong friendships until kira and jo.  knowing that there was someone to rely on, someone who would not judge your downs, someone making you a part of their life just because they enjoy spending time with you, that they genuinely love you.  davina appreciated the other girl, even more lately, as everything felt harder day by day.  to find something genuine was becoming a whole mission and the witch intended to hold onto the ones she already had;  she would stay out of anything else if she could help it.  but there was the undeniable pull, she just knew that whether she likes it or not some people were determined to rope her into things she had no intentions to be a part of and they just might succeed.  among all that unstability, this was stable.  the shoulder she laid her head on, the warmth of her friend, their conversation on such mundane things...  this was simply nice.     “  so...  what you mean to say is...  we do have to get to the class still...  ”     she groaned, actually meaning to skip it and just go back to bed as soon as the headache soothed a little bit.     “  and to think that they’ll probably just assume we stayed up partying and drinking and all that when we were singing in our pajamas.  ”     davina couldn’t help the snort which turned into a full chuckle as she sat up a bit straight, looking at kira now.     “  did you think i’d miss it?  rude!  ”

[dreamyoncs]

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

The pawns had not always been pawns, but they were useful tools. Certainly felt like they held sharper blades when in the womb. Tyler had been birthed below a full moon, the ghost of clouds dimming the lighting for a moment until he gave out a brief wail. High-pitched and dutiful, as though he had already been the wolf in the mother’s blood; for there was no lamb metamorphosis for this Lockwood, no prey carcass left behind mid-shift. He had always been a carnivorous thing, a leech that attached itself to the vision of son-hood and thought that to be a god it meant one must spill blood each day. Or at least leave a bruise. Or a mark. Or a split lip that he could blame on the angels or a mishandled baseball throw. The home is not the mouth, but it does chew on the bits of the flesh until there’s nothing but bone. It had been a year since he had stayed a week at the house, but still he’s coughing up skull fragments and hair of his old self. The self he had claimed he had killed. The self that looked in the mirror and saw a broken armed boy begging his father for another chance at basketball try-outs. The curse had been within him, an ugly doom that curdled inside his belly. He had night terrors of the woods and something running in the woods, but it was always too dark to see the face on the formless. Maybe that was just a foreshadowing of himself. Who he is destined to be. What shape hunger is in the shadows is only what face he chooses to adopt in the mirror. Reflection of purgatory is the reflection of emptiness, and there’s just no filling that hole when it’s dug specifically for the suffering. This is why he refuses to accept anyone else dying in a puddle of their own lifeblood for someone like him - something as small and undeniably unimportant as him. The growth of guilt is a boil on his side, swollen and aching with each hurried step through the trees. Branches reach for him and remain ignorant of the form of mother nature in his arms, her apologies curling out with an earth-shattering bemoaning of sorrow. A grunted out response as he finally spots his parked truck, mouth setting in a firm line. ‘I’m gonna’ look after you, okay? Just[…]stay with me. Stay awake. Listen to my voice, it’s gonna’ be okay.’ Mumbled out phrases that should mean something, but the worry in his throat is clogging the emotion in his voice. He is rough around the edges now, the panic settling along his shoulders with the weight of Atlas’ burdens. One hand clasping her back while the other opens the passenger side door, lifting her high enough to sit her inside safely. Palm shaking as he slides it along her cheek, guiding her head to lay gingerly back against the headrest. ‘Don’t do that again. Don’t scare me like that.’

          it was ironic how the both of them felt immense guilt simultaneously.  how they worried over one another instead of their own pain and well-being.  this kind of loyalty, caring and love was meant for fairytales, legends that would be passed down upon generations to come.  the kind of love story that would set an ache within the ones who heard about it, leaving them with a need for something reminiscent to it at the very least.  after all, as sad as the story goes, there was nothing more tale-worthy than loving someone more than your own skin.  especially at such tender age, too; and that was what made their story tainted with tears and dirt and blood.  but they both knew it, didn’t they?  their blood did not necessarily mean a curse upon the both of them, they would still dance under the moonlight.  they would still fall into a mess of limbs in a holy union that even the nature sang for.  they would still walk hand in hand into their own forever.  but they would do it barefoot, on pieces of glass and branches and soil, they would be naked and exposed to the demons lurking in the shadows, they would fall countless times.  but even in that, they would be together, and this was the proof of it if ever needed.  one simply refusing to leave the other’s side until they were both hurt, both riddled with guilt, both pained.  this was hard, but this was theirs.  davina embraced it with open arms, yet it didn’t mean it’d hurt less to know that she had failed him.  she watched him bleed for her.  because of her.  yet he was still here.  holding her like he had once promised when he held her in his arms that night.  and despite her protests, davina was clinging onto that for dear life.     “  i’m sorry.  ”     the utterance leaving her lips one more time, davina forced herself to stay away not for her sake but for his, but she was so tired.  the temptation to just give into the sweet arms of sleep was overwhelming and if it wasn’t for the labored way the opened the truck’s door to place her into the seat, she would already have done it.  his touch was welcomed, keeping her somewhat still rooted in this reality, yet the moment she felt that hand slip was the moment she broke down despite the last bit of energy fading away with each sob.     “  it’s my fault.  don’t -- don’t leave me.  please.  ”     she whispered, hand trying to reach his, but it fails in its track once again, which emitted another pained sob despite her eyes being almost closed now.     “  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry...  i lo...  ”     consciousness slipping from her being, davina’s head tilted on its own as her breath settled and wet eyelashes remained draped over her pale cheeks.  the last thing she remembered was hoping he’d stay and the ache in her heart.

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

The itch had begun how it always had: beyond the skin and organs, deep underneath the tissue of the soul. The entirety of his being had started to decompose to make room for some newer version of him. An ancient remedy of all sons, perhaps, is to become something completely different. Shed the skin that looks like the father, forget about those scars that remain etched on the heart like earth scorched by an old fire, morph into a beast that obeys only the moonlight and the starless sky. He will be a different creature than that possessed thing that hangs around his homeland. He will not eat the hearth and the child that looks like he is being devoured with each disappointed gaze. He will not soak in the black bathwater until he is a figment of the imagination belonging to his father, he will not become an unholy burden that lingers in the attic and rattles the windows when the storms come calling. Still, the desperation to crawl away from his skin is not his own choice. He has inherited this curse, and there’s nowhere else it can go but down his esophagus and through the corridors of his resistant body. It causes a stutter in his breath, the impulse large and unstable to shift and hunt down the unknown wolf in order to protect her. Pulse strains against his flesh, a monstrosity that pulls the chain it’s attached to - but he refuses to let himself turn to the primitive godlessness of a killer. An attempt to keep his breathing steady, response spoken through gritted teeth and furrowing in his brows. ‘This isn’t nothing, Davina. You could have been killed.’ Fingers trail gently along the yellowed bruise, the shape of it somewhat significant to a half-formed heart. Ironic considering he felt like his own was breaking apart the longer he sat here and did nothing to keep her from harm. He’s listening to her explanation, but there’s a ringing in his eardrums - a vague drumming that speeds along with each moment, the nearing of some foreboding finality. Her touch helps soothe him, bringing him back to the swollen tension of reality, but he lacks the commitment to the end of the topic she’s pressing for. Hands sliding around her waist and pulling her towards him to hold her carefully and even allowing lips to press themselves lightly atop her head in a wordless promise. A murmured out threat to the open air invites the floating dust around the ray of light to cascade precariously to the floor, ‘I know his scent. I’ll make sure he doesn’t have the chance to ever hurt you again[…]I promise.’

          you could have been killed.  it felt like that very phrase had become the everyday life of the witch lately.  she felt as if there were predators stalking at every corner, waiting for just the right moment to lunge.  a moment of naivety and she could be history  -  she knew it damn well, yet she’d be damned if she let it stop her from living her life.  she was not one to cower into the shadows in fear.  bravery did not come bare of foolishness and that was perhaps the very thing that could bring her to her doom, yet that was not something she could rub herself clean of.  everyone, including herself, would have to accept it; she would always stare death in the eye if she had to instead of running away from it if it meant standing her ground.  she had lived almost all her life in isolation, without having much to herself, so she would never give up anything without a fight.  be it her special place in the woods, or the control of her powers, or her loved ones.  she would not give tyler up just because of an encounter gone wrong with another wolf.  she would do anything in her power to keep him from getting dirt on his hands for her that he would regret later.  now that he knew already, the best thing she could do was to do anything she could in order to keep him calm.  a soft sigh slipping past her lips as she looked at the man, davina lifted her shoulders slightly.     “  that was my safe place, tyler.  you couldn’t have known.  even i would have never expected that...  ”     words fading into a mumble, her thumbs were stroking along his warm skin as she spoke, a faint smile formed on her lips.     “  i love that you want to keep me safe.  you have no idea what it means to me.  but you have to understand this, i need you safe just as much.  ”     and she hoped he did.  if he knew that whatever she did she’d do for him, then she could stand up to anything without a worry.  settling comfortably in his lap, she wrapped her arms around his figure and nuzzled against his neck, his smell feeling like home.  she remained there for a while, just breathing in his scent and basking in his presence until he spoke again, which made her tilt her head up to look at him.  then, she shuffled with a sudden decision, one leg moving over his lap to sit on his thighs so that she was now facing him properly, palms on his jaw.     “  promise me you’re gonna be okay.  ”     she said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.      “  promise me that you’ll always hold me like this.  ”     another kiss, now closer to his lips.     “  promise me this.  this is all i need.  ”     leaning closer one more time, now her lips were on top of his lips, claiming them in a calm and hopefully soothing kiss.

[dreamyoncs]

harvehlle​:

⸻

The rivers gush and snarl with the overwhelming level of water from the recent rainstorms. She supposes there had always been a part of her that was destined to be a monsoon as well. The chaos swirling with the mud, the old ways of the world blending with the modern times of reaping. There hasn’t been a moment in her life where she was fully comfortable with being a sorrow-dressed woman marching solemnly to the gallows. She was made for something more, she felt it. A deep thrumming in her bloodstream that echoed the promise of glory and remembrance. This is, of course, confused with grief and its ability to lodge itself in her throat and make breathing a difficult feat to perform. She could be something else, right? She could plant herself deep under the ground in the meadow and bloom properly this time - without her heart belonging to someone else. Jo has been listening, but only offers an occasional nod of agreement every so often. Her tennis sneakers worn in and shuffled down the forest path, tree roots sticking out every few feet. She lifts her shoulders in a small shrug, not really eager to talk about boys and young love when she was still scrubbing the remnants of that conversation she had with Dean off her skin. A hum of thoughtfulness while the toe of her sneaker kicks a small pinecone out of her path. ‘Couldn’t tell you, D. I’m just used to guys expecting me to be impressed with how little they bet on pool games. What even makes it official? Has he seen you[…]naked?’ A wriggle of her brows as the playful nature of hers finally shows itself through the wide grin on her mouth and the fingers reaching out to poke at the other’s arm. A tease that causes its own tormenting naivety to swell in her belly. A laugh follows, trickling out from the back of her throat and causing a few sparrows to scatter up ahead. ‘Don’t be so melodramatic! You’re fine[…]it sounds like he likes you a lot.’

          it was funny how the three girls who were all so clueless when it came to things like this got together as a friend group, not even one of them qualified to give advice on the matter to the others.  maybe it was their similarities that brought them together, though, davina wouldn’t know.  she loved jo and kira so much and of course would want the best of them so in this case, she wouldn’t have talked so openly about what had been happening with tyler if she knew about jo loving dean  --  she didn’t even know him.  later on she would probably feel bad about gushing over her boyfriend when jo was in a situation like that but right now she had no idea.  and was there anything more normal than two young girls talking about crushes, boys, and dating like this?  in all honesty, davina felt like she was no normal girl until she became friends with jo, kira, matt and tyler, though the latter one was a whole lot more than a friend now.  which, made her feel like she was finally living.  at last, life felt like it was worth living, and despite her sacrificial nature she did want to make the best of it.  when jo started to talk about boys and how they were trying to impress her, she let out a groan and shook her head.     “  really?�� oh god.  ”     though, as the blonde kept talking davina’s lips fell open, hand coming to land on jo’s shoulder in a playful push.     “  jo!  i can’t believe you actually said that!  ”     pressing her face into her palms for a second, she couldn’t help the blush spreading on her cheeks.     “  for your information  -  no!  i don’t think that’s what makes it, like, official.  ”     a pause, then came the squint of her eyes.     “  right?  i mean, we never got far but...  ”     but there were other reasons in play, too, like his lack of control.  with a sigh, she smiled at jo a bit, raising her eyebrows.     “  you think so?  i mean, it’d suck if he didn’t.  cause i’m whipped, jo, got it really bad and i feel like i’m tripping over my own feet with all this.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

The transformations began at birth, although not necessarily made for some small creature. Certainly not for a child, but even so he had accepted his environment with a steady hand and an iron ribcage. Reality wasn’t so much of dust and kingdom, but a dried landscape of old history and remembered carnage. His education of who he is and where he comes from was a benign reminder of pain and suffering. Tyler grew during summer months and went dark during the winter. Quiet and introspective, as thoughtful as the moonlight that would decorate his bedroom. It was the cold beginnings of his own season that had dragged out his temperament. He was washed out by the sharpness of inner turmoil, a translation stunted by the slaughter of his innocence. Inside this trauma, he had uncovered the glassy orb of his soul. Clouded and neglected from years of confusion, there it sat inside his chest begging to be touched - or at least nudged a little. The companions at that time had been the ghosts that came during rainfall. The mists of their unfulfilled wishes wrapping around his throat and pulling him through the fog of a gray daylight. A particular grief that only some sons carry had become so present in his daily life, that the very pressure of its body against his lungs was comforting. This palette of self-doubt seemed prevalent even in times of joy and success. He had fought gods and won, yet there was a scab that endured without fully healing. If he bumped it, it would let out an awful throbbing. This being the failure to become. This being the skipped steps in metamorphosis. Soon, he thinks, he will develop completely into a haunted thing. Some annihilation for those who eat at him and try to possess him, as though he was an inanimate as a straw doll. Witchcraft in the way any man pulls away from the tide of oppression. The world searches to punish him and remove him from this gilded platform of earthy premonition. Still, he persists. He burns without cowering to the flames of others’ greed, he shifts between wolf and boy and prince. He is large and with an appetite for some immortal destruction, a desire for ruination and for rebirth. A cocoon in constant state of limbo, not quite his full shape, not quite his infant one. This is how he views the world: perception as a hazy tint, a vagueness of wakefulness. Except for Davina. Davina was in clear focus, details all perfected and crafted to make him want her. Davina had sharp angles and pink lips, full cheeks and socks that reached the fatty bits of her thighs. The legs he wanted to be in between even now amid a more serious topic of conversation. Palms resting comfortably against her lower back, his heightened senses already able to feel the warmth from her skin even beneath her layers. ‘You got me. I’m the most boring guy around. Bet you’re just trying to date me for my money.’ Mouth twitching out a grin, smugness not dissuaded by the previous incident. In fact, he seems to be drawing more of his confidence back as he leans down, head nudging its way into the crook of her neck. Lips hover just an inch above the curve between her neck and shoulder, next response breathed out before he teases a lingering kiss along the curve of her throat. ‘I need you more than you know, Davina. For all kinds of things.’ The chuckle is low and hushed out, pulse reluctantly obeying him as he pulls away and nods towards his truck. ‘Wanna’ grab some food? What are you in the mood for right now, Sabrina? I know I owe you a lot more than some lunch, but I figured we should start somewhere.’

          something was brewing.  whether it was something holy or cursed  --  they wouldn’t know.  but the thing was, davina would take either.  everyone would rather take a path filled with dandelions and chirping birds and the gentle swaying of branches.  anyone would want to have it easy and happy  --  & that’s really nobody’s fault.  that was the human nature after all, drawn to pretty things and sources of easy happiness.  yet davina didn’t mind walking on thorns until her feet bled, burning alive at the stakes, ripping open her heart just to keep him safe in there as long as it was in the name of something worthy.  in the name of love.  it was a doomed thing to want someone to be one’s forever from the very first moment that they looked into each other’s eyes for real.  perhaps no one should be so willing to give their all to another soul right from the start.  maybe the vultures flying overhead were the stalkers of their respective blood, preying for the moment of their union.  this could very well be much more than a young girl and boy falling madly in love, could have been written onto every brick of the road ahead that they would take on hand in hand.  had the ancestors always been whispering about the boy in the shape of the beast into her ear?  had her powers really became the strongest during full moons, crystals cleansing under its light and the nature bending easily at her will then?  had she been kept away from the rest of the world for him  &  him only for her whole life?  it seemed there were no answers to these yet, though she did feel it in her heart.  she knew what the heart wants now.  and as much as she tried to paint it lightly with easy, flirtatious banter, their gaze held something heavier.  something bigger than them.     “  yeah?  your party-goers would beg to differ.  ”     of course she knew about them.  her skin itched and stomach turned whenever she heard a pretty girl talk about his parties and how amazing they were.  yet, she tried to cover that jealous bit with more banter.     “  guess i’m caught red handed.  can’t blame a girl, though, the witchy business has been slow lately.  ”     a complete lie, though it was clear that she said that just for the sake of it when her lips formed into a grin.  which, soon vanished as he leaned in to hover over the tender skin of her neck, giving her goosebumps as she felt his warm breath.  throat bulging with a hard swallow, she could only take so much when he did kiss her neck, winning a soft whimper on the verge of a moan from her lips.     “  tyler...  ”     his name left her mouth in a hushed tone, shaky and breathy, followed by a soft groan the moment he pulled away to leave her lips parted and cheeks hotter in hue.  it was only a kiss on the neck, yet she needed a whole moment to function properly.  and even then, she was flushed.     “  food sounds good.  ”     she said before pausing for a moment, then reached to brush her fingers over his to tug a little to get going.     “  we really should start somewhere.  ”     lips forming into a grin, she then added.     “  maybe we should call it a diner date.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

@marhcel​ asked:   ∗ o6﹕ sender gives receiver company in the hospital .

          pale limbs looking almost translucent under the dim white light of the hospital room she had been admitted to, davina laid motionless in the bed, still pretty tired.  yet, davina’s lips formed into an affectionate smile at the sight of marcel entering the room, starting to move a bit so she could sit up a bit more properly.     “  hey,  ”     the witch mumbled, waiting for him to settle into the chair next to her bed which had been previously occupied by jo, kira and tyler and despite the situation, it felt nice to see that she had quite a handful of people who genuinely cared for her.  seeing the look on his face, davina let out a sigh and looked down for a moment before she raised her gaze to meet his once more.     “  i’m okay.  really.  i just slipped a little bit.  ”     of course people at the hospital thought she had little to no sleep for days with minimum food and that this was what caused her to pass out like that.  noticing the bag in his hand, she raised an eyebrow at it, a playful grin making way onto her features in order to lighten the mood.     “  i hope you got food in there.  food here sucks, i’m starving.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

Kristine Froseth in Junior (2017—)

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

There were many times when isolation and an empty room had been deemed as a more soothing companion than anyone else. A haunting that comes from within: he dreams of foggy swamps and burning fields. Nature eating nature, dust settling upon bones and corpses. He’s unsure if this is an omen, or just a mixture of forgotten memories. The symbolisms, however, are left alone. He doesn’t poke and prod at things that have barbed wire wrapped around them. Things being organs that continue to thud even in times of loss. Even during funeral after funeral of selves, lined up as if for a headcount. Resurrection as a daily routine, robotic and cold as if only moving a stiff statue of a man, rather than a flesh one. He wants to reach into the world’s core and pull out some semblance of reasoning. A logical answer to the pain and suffering that has happened, a beacon of hopeful reassurance. Instead, he remains silent. A black and white film that is rewinded over and over again, quiet if not for the occasional squeak of the tape and the whitenoise that follows. He will avoid those doorways that bring him to a dead end. He will not follow the false prophecies of his childlike aspirations, he will suffocate that small voice until it barely utters another word. It’s a challenge to become someone of substance when there’s been so many instances of breaking him. Boy to wolf to ghost. He was ripped from the title of son, followed by the title of a living entity. All importance in who he was had been erased and replaced by a mistranslation in his clumsy possession of identity. It was a god that had snuck inside of him and forced him to become spitting fire and uncontrollable rapture. A blindness that began at the base of the skull and traveled all around his head until he only saw red. All brief romances of kingdoms and otherworldly creatures left his brain. All fantasies have scattered, leaving behind the chilling truth of the methodical and the unfamiliar: he was monstrous and alone. But this isn’t completely about him anymore, is it? This is about wolves and the maidens who choose to run with them. This is about a trail of blood leading to pain and sacrifice. This is about defamation of self and old myths. Suppose that’s who she is to him. A woman bled out into the world filled with naivety and a heart that leapt from her throat to his open mouth. Either way, he knows he can’t keep her safe from himself - but doubt is what he’s made up of, and who was he to deny her? There’s certainly a deeper abyss inside of him and he’s unsure if she’d truly allow herself to be devoured by a faceless void like him. Son-hood his only recollection of a meaty form on this earth. Even then the father is king, and there’s no use in dethroning someone so blended in with terror and peeling wallpaper. Expression falters and softens into something a bit holier than what he’s used to. A genuine smile is slow-forming as he bows his head, shuffles his feet a bit closer until he can reach out and slide a palm along her waist. A gentle tug towards him, a breathy chuckle floats in the air between them before he speaks. ‘You’re full of surprises, Davina. Gotta’ say I’m feeling a little out of my element here.’ The other words he had wanted to say remained locked inside of Tyler, refusal of budging from his esophagus. He hates being out of control, hates the lack of dominance over a situation or the crawling itch that’s surrounding his body. She was ethereal, undeniably goddess-like in physical attributes and in her atmosphere of light - the beast entranced by what might eventually be his desolation. He’s studying her with his gaze aimed downwards to trail over her lips and then up to her eyes. There’s a concern underlining the heated glance, of course, but he’s not one to boast over the growing feelings. He will keep this love beneath his skull, tucked into a crevice and hidden until the next spring. Hand moves up to her neck once more, pad of his thumb skittering along her chin. ‘You’d tell me if you were hurt, right? You can’t do that again[…]I need to learn how to control it naturally. Like when I shift. I just need to[…]accept the pain. My[…]uncle told me sometimes it helps to have someone with me, but I can’t think about hurting you. What if next time doesn’t go as planned?’

          all of this had been a foreign concept for the witch in all of her nineteen years of life.  forced isolation could only make an introvert out of a girl, then a rebel.  though her rebel phase had never come, as the mother was out of the picture before that, and she was suddenly left with a minimal experience in almost everything other than magic.  despite the isolation, when davina loved, she loved fiercely and seeing how much her heart opened wide and bled for friends should be more than enough to guess what her lover would get.  there could only be two outcomes, too, with a girl who was never loved enough; she either would lose the ability to love at all, her heart turning into stone and skin to ice; or she would love so much, too much even, to the extent of losing herself in the process.  davina was undoubtedly the latter, her love was not gained so easily yet once someone did, it was hard to not guarentee a forever within that heart of hers.  and maybe friends had it easier with that but she had never had a lover before.  she never knew how to, despite having people flirt with her or at least try that, but with tyler it all came naturally.  as if it was always meant to be this way, as if it was written in the stars.  and just maybe it really was, davina thought.  maybe somewhere holier than them, when their fates were being written into their skins long before their birth, they had the same ink embedded into their skins.  maybe that red string was real and it had always been wrapped around their fingers and they never knew until the right moment.  maybe she was made for him and all they needed was a little push to fall endlessly into the depths of each other’s souls.  a moment of courage and perhaps they had a forever now.  oh, how she hoped they did.  because it felt right.  it felt right from the very first moment that she felt his hand on her skin, only an innocent brush of fingers that left flames in their path.  it felt right from the moment she promised that she would hold him until it passed down there during his first moon.  he felt right and as scary as love was, she could not imagine a better someone to fall for.  because she had a feeling that she would fall right into his arms safely, just like how she did when he tugged at her waist, just like how her arms wrapped around his neck like all of that was scripted into their lives ages ago.     “  yeah?  and i thought i was the boring one here.  ”     she half-joked, giving a small shake of her head as she chuckled.  in all reality, she would always worry about being enough for him deep down, but there was no need to voice it unless in a form of joke right now.  leaning into his touch as she began to caress the skin on her neck, davina hummed along to his words softly, eyes closing for a moment.     “  it’s only a moment of discomfort against helping you out of your pain.  i think i’d take the first one.  ”     she would tell him if it felt something serious to her but this was nothing to busy him over.  looking at him again, her hands moved up from his shoulders to his neck, then finally to his cheeks, palms warm against the sharp structure of his features.     “  i understand that you need to do it yourself, i do, but if you ever need someone i hope i’m the one you know you can turn to no matter what.  ”     a pause, she then continued with a shake of her head.     “  you didn’t hurt me.  and you won’t.  i know that, but if things go wrong, i can protect myself.  i would never even think of burdening you with such thing.  everything’s gonna be okay.  i promise.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

Bleeding out under the branches of sycamore trees was a version of the dream he had long ago. It had been forgotten about, shoved aside to the corners of his mind and ignored for years. There had been other warnings, of course. The lack of birds following him, the fantasies of growing horns and hooves, the ripped apart bibles in his father’s study. The violence of transformation is not always about the snapping of bones and tearing of tissue. There’s something darker inside him and he feels it stirring during the harvest moon, a hunger that becomes unbearably insatiable during the rapid drumming of his pulse. He could be a feral thing once more. He had been one in the womb - birthed out from a bloodied sac with teeth and claws, an inhuman thing to his father even without the fur. This ugliness of freedom is nothing if not intimidating. He is terrified of the open fields and the sparrows who fly in groups. He avoids the sky when it’s bright blue and thinks only of rainfall during humid days. He is too contained in this skin, keeps himself tightened at the neck with the thoughts he can’t say and the panic he can’t fully digest. Tyler will always be burning on the pyre made from his own backbone. Sacrifice is not inherited, but he did adopt it from his ancestors somewhere along the precipice of death and resurrection. He lingers in limbo torn between being a god and simply being whole. What is a body if not a home away from a home? Something just as haunted, perhaps, but quieter. He no longer shakes when the winds howl outside his walls. While the ache pulsates with an irregular pattern, he recognizes that there are things in this world that should never be tainted with the colour of slaughter. Her being one of them. Shallow breaths wheezing out as he blinks back the overwhelming pain that comes with the injury, a determination raw and cracked in his mind to remain alive for her - somber grunt falling from his throat being the sole provider of more worry for her. ‘Davina[…]what the hell!’ The fog lifts for a moment, but then eyes dart to the crimson dripping from her nose. The scent is filled with saline and berries, sweetness seemed to make its homeland in her arteries. Molars grinding together while he pulls himself up to a kneeling position, hand brushing hers off him and cupping both her cheeks in his palms. ‘Stop! Stop, you’re bleeding. Jesus[…]come on.’ Arms sliding under her knees and against her shoulders, lifting her easily. He begins a steady walk towards his truck, mouth poised in a deep frown. Strength restored with the help of his own accelerated healing and whatever magic she had been doing. Scent of the other wolf is faint, obviously scared shitless by the earthquake that Davina had caused. A dry gasp, soft pants coming from his mouth as he moves quickly through the woods, eyes cast downwards for a moment to check to see if she was conscious. ‘Stay with me. I got you, I got you. We’re almost there.’

          sacrifice was within the girl.  whether it be a possible harvest in the future or how her mother birthed her as more of a mission than a daughter or the way she was always so damn willing to put her loved ones before her, that one fact was clear.  sacrificial tendencies were running through her veins, embedded into her bones, written on her skin.  and what better cause was there to step in line than love?  maybe she was foolish to claim it before he did, maybe she didn’t know better, maybe this would be the end of her one day.  she did not care.  they all could point their fingers at her and laugh at her naivety, yet davina wouldn’t care for the opinions of those who had long forgotten what love was.  did living mean only breathing?  was it worth to lose people you cared about, the one you loved, just so you can bring air to your lungs one more time no matter how hollow your heart becomes?  if that was the case, she figured she didn’t want it.  she didn’t care for seeing another day if he was not going to be a part of it.  accelerated healing or not, the tiniest doubt of him not being able to heal in time, of him losing his breath before his skin closed up was enough to make her do something about it.  and she would never regret it, no matter at what cost.  and the cost was draining herself in the process it seemed.  the thing was, magic was never a linear thing, never consisted of simple calculations.  she had just made the soil under their feet shake with the power of the nature around her, not even feeling anything during that, yet felt herself getting closer to the brink of unconsciousness with every passing second as she helped him heal a lot faster than he normally would.  that was because she took from herself, it came from within the witch unlike using the nature to attack the beast and she had just used every drop of herself.  it would take some time until she would be ready to use magic again as she was barely awake by the end of it.  she heard him talk to her, of course she did, yet her hands were only pushed away because she had used it all.  it was only when that she felt herself being carried off that she forced herself to focus her gaze on tyler, eyes immediately filling with tears.     “  i’m sorry,  ”     she sobbed out, voice weak as she tried to reach his face but her hand didn’t even make halfway before it fell to his chest again.     “  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry...  ”     the same apologize repeated like a broken record, her voice cracked as she sobbed louder against his shoulder, cheeks shining under the moonlight with tears.     “  it’s my fault, i hurt you...  put me down... you have to -- rest.  i’m sorry...  ”     voice fading into a mumble than almost a whisper, her eyelids were draped over the blue hues.

[dreamyoncs]

thiehf​:

⸻

Gods have the ability to take on the shape of their environment and so Bela had transformed herself into a swampland. This bog of her heart contained perfectly saved skulls of her old selves, the hair and teeth still intact. She is able to dislocate her jaw and swallow the world. She is able to make rivers out of her stomach juices and allow them to burn entire cities. She’s sure she’s evil down to the very bone marrow, but is too terrified to crack herself open and see what insects come spilling out. She’s here to lift a curse on an object, of course, but she brings more curiosity regarding her own wretched damnation into oblivion. What does magic do against a blackened soul? Isn’t she already dead in some way or another? A curl of her lips as she reaches to hook a dainty finger around the mug’s arm before lifting it to her mouth. ‘You’re from an old family here in Bon Temps, and every family has their secrets. However, I hear your secret is much more useful to my business needs at this very moment.’ Bright eyes blink once with the ease of a feline, lips pursing to blow along the steam from the cup in hopes to cool it before taking a sip. Setting it back down and lazing into a stretch as she leans away from the company at hand to rest her spine against the lounge chair’s cushion. A few fingers tap against the arm of the chair with dedicated absentmindedness, the tongue in her mouth growing swollen and dry. ‘Whatever you desire, darling. I’m easy to negotiate with when I have an opportunity to get what I want.’

          davina liked being in control of her magic.  everyone always told her she had so much potential, so much power within her; they could sense it but davina simply knew it.  she felt it in her veins, in the itch on her palms, the way her fingertips tingled.  although, possessing it and controlling it weren’t the same thing.  that was why the witch had been struggling so far; sometimes when she couldn’t control herself she could crack open the earth but sometimes she couldn’t focus enough to light a candle and especially with the kind of magic that she was not very familiar with, she could drain herself accidentally.  she was determined to turn her potential into actualy power to be able to protect herself and the people she loved but aside from that, she wanted to let herself enjoy magic.  it was embedded in who she was, it was an undeniable part of her and she couldn’t carry it like a burden all her life.  she would learn about the things she doesn’t know yet, she would practice and get better and in the meantime, she would make something good out of it.  so with the item in hand, she finally directed her gaze back towards the woman, lips forming into a small smile.     “  i see you’re very straight to the point.  knowing what you want and all that...  i bet your business is booming.  ”     after the light comment she made, davina finally let go of the item and placed it into the bag carefully, fingers curling around her iced coffee instead.     “  then we’ll have to see what it costs you.  of course i can’t do it here.  if you need it right now, i know a place where i can do it.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

lockwoohd​:

⸻

Not necessarily one to claim that his namesake was anything other than a burden, he had become intent on destroying whatever clots lingered in his lineage. He is no prodigal son and he certainly has made a vow to the moon or to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t turn out like his father. However, there is an inherited rage to his version of the truth - no matter what story he’s telling. The curse of the family is the curse of the child. He hadn’t fully understood that quote until the very first breath of the resurrection. The air scattered with humidity and heavy pine, the teeth in his gums loosening and being replaced with something sharper. His belly a black mark inside his body that refused to digest whatever old flesh still clinging desperately to his stomach lining. It’s because of this transformation that he observes many things around him with a different cluster of instincts than he had before. This second life around he is suspicious of even the trees when they crack and sway to the wind. He studies Davina’s throat and mouth, the quirk of her lips before she answers - the heartbeat steady and rarely swerving from anything out of the ordinary. Except for that scent. That earthy smell of another beast swarming around her like a nest of angry hornets. There’s a soured expression on his face for a moment, an attempt at battling the need to vocally claim her as his around the woods and mountains. It morphs into one of urgency, palm feeling too hot upon the surface of her thigh. ‘What happened? I know it was[…]another wolf. Did it hurt you?’ A faint outline of a frown as it allows his lips to sink downwards, hands sliding up to her waist to shift her weight slightly so she faces him. There’s a thick haze of concern that curdles his vision shortly, pulse lifting suddenly and fingers digging in around her fleshy curves in her lower back as eyes carefully look her over. ‘What do you need me to do?’

          davina was usually an open book to those who she deemed closest to her.  she could try to hide her feelings when she thought that those would only harm them but she could only hide so much from her face.  she was no actor, no liar, no manipulator.  and especially to those who could read her like the back of their hands, they could easily see what was going on.  and she felt like tyler was quickly becoming one of those people too, he was picking up her habits, know when there was something bothering her...  she loved it, she really did  --  after all, having someone who knew what was going on with you without even a single word uttered was something so precious that most people would live their lives without having something like that.  but it also came with downsides too.  like right now, she wanted to keep that to herself in fear of worrying him about it but one way or another he knew.  and he looked uneasy at best, so she knew that the best she could do was to tell him the truth as not knowing the whole thing would probably only cause him to feel worse.  with a sigh, she looked at him again when he encouraged her to with his hands, settling better in his lap in this angle.     “  yeah.  it was.  i didn’t want to get you worried over nothing.  ”     she said before she pushed her hair back a little, showing the almost healed skin, then looked down at her arm where there was only the faint yellow-ish hue that a bruise left during the healing process.     “  see? i’m okay, almost good as new.  ”     hands planting on his shoulders gently, she continued.     “  so i was at my spot, trying to release some of my magic back to the nature when that man approached.  said he was experiencing similar things, that he could help and all.  then turned into a werewolf, he was clearly struggling, but attacked out of nowhere.  something must have happened, it was so...  weird.  like it saw an enemy.  ”     lifting her shoulders, davina’s hands then moved down to his chest, caressing gently to ease him.     “  i fought him off, he ran away.  i don’t think i’ll see him again.  ”     one of her hands moving up to rest on his cheek, she smiled softly.     “  i think i need you to just hold me.  ”

[dreamyoncs]

alpha-as-hale​:

He stalked from afar, almost shamefully as he knew the duty that followed… Wolves stalked and hunted, so it was in his nature that he’d enjoy the process—or so Peter believed. However, knowing he’d have to explain himself disgusted him. 

Having bid his time, the werewolf fell into pace with the witch. Stepping into her line of sight—not to stop her, but walk alongside her. “Me.” After what seemed like a sigh, but was actually the werewolf scanning their surroundings, Peter nodded. “It’s me… Christian Greene, if anyone asks,” he jested casually. He was painfully aware that an apology was due, but Peter would’ve rather burn alive again before apologizing to anyone now that he was the Alpha. He paused, silently inspecting the witch for any injuries he caused… But he didn’t remember biting her, so in his book, she was more than fine—she’d beat him. And now, that pissed him off. 

“I’m guessing my trick worked for you?” he decided instead. “Letting the build up out? Sidenote, though, have you been hallucinating?” If she had, then she would understand what transpired that night and they could move on rather than be humans about it. 

          davina didn’t stop walking as he fell into step next to her, figuring that was for the better.  he had already come again in the first place so her initial thought of keeping a distance was worthless now, tyler would pick up his scent again and she was not sure if she could calm him down this time.  with a sigh, she pressed her fingertips to her temple, already tired.  though, at the mention of the name, the girl couldn’t keep herself from looking at him with eyebrows raised, lips falling agape.     “  really?  christian greene?  don’t tell me you were inspired by fifty shades.  god.  ”     the roll of her eyes accompanied by the groan emitting from her throat, she stopped in her tracks for a moment when she heard him talk again, eyes squinted and head shaking in disbelief.      “  your trick?  YOUR TRICK??  ”     it took everything in her not to smack him with the book she was holding, but she knew better.     “  you almost made me a chew toy and that’s how you call it?  let me tell you, i was this close to blasting you off into another dimension.  ”     another shake of her head, she crossed her arms after his question.     “  not at the time.  ”