muttbyte - Tumblr blog

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“ A MENAGERIE OF M. … MISERY, MUSE, MISGIVENS. A MULTITUDE OF SAD SOULS. “ multi-muse featuring until dawn, mad max, jurassic park, disney & star wars muses. multi-fandom and oc friendly. 

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I HAVE MAGIC HAIR THAT GLOWS WHEN I SING … !!

multi-muse ft. rapunzel of tangled film + series. 

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seeksghosts‌:

 maybe  she  was  crazy  in  some  other  way  by  staying  with  him .  maybe  she  was  insane  for  loving  him  despite  what  he  had  been  meant  to  do  to  her .  and  maybe  she  believed  too  much  in  the  good  of  people  but  she  wasn’t  willing  to  give  him  up  because  of  something  he’d  been  forced  into .  there  may  have  been  a  moment  when  she’d  questioned  their  relationship ,  a  moment  her  brain  had  told  her  that  he  was  lying  and  that  she  wouldn’t  wake  up  in  the  morning . 

 but  it  had  been  nothing  more  than  a  moment  of  her  mind  playing  tricks  on  itself ,  trying  to  make  her  believe  something  that  couldn’t  be  true  because  when  she  was  in  his  arms ,  everything  felt  real .  she  could  feel  the  honesty ,  the  love ,  the  worry  in  his  touch  and  she  had  been  able  to  push  all  of  the  fear  out  of  her  mind .  whatever  this  was ,  this  was  real  and  it  was  worth  fighting  for .  he’d  risked  everything  to  be  with  her ,  to  keep  her  alive .  and  that  meant  something .  it  had  to .  

 she  tucks  herself  against  him ,  buries  her  face  against  him  and  tries  her  best  to  melt  against  him  because  she  feels  more  at  home  the  closer  she  gets  to  him .   she’s  quiet  at  first  when  he  speaks ,  isn’t  completely  sure  how  to  respond  because  she  knows  he’s  going  through  hell ,  knows  that  this  can’t  be  easy  for  him  because  he’s  going  against  every  instinct ,  every  demand ,  and  she  just  wants  to  take  the  stress  off  of  him   somehow .  “ you  did .  probably  something  to  do  with  my  charming  disposition  and  my  absolute  innocence . ”  she  knows  he  didn’t  intend  it  the  way  it  came  out  so  she’s  trying  to  continue  the  joke ,  trying  to  make  sure  she  knows  without  a  doubt  that  he’s  not  going  to  hurt  her ,  that  he  isn’t  going  to  kill  her .  she  needs  him  to  understand  that  she  trusts  him .

 “ i  know  you  won’t ,  hill .  and  i  know  it’s  causing  problems  right  now .  and  i’m  sorry . ”  the  words  are  said  to  his  chest ,  clawing  their  way  to  his  heart  in  and  settling  there  in  an  effort  to  make  him  feel  their  truth .  she  blames  herself  for  so  much  but  nothing  more  so  than  his  own  conflict .  things  would  have  been  easier  if  she  had  never  caught  the  fucking  footage .  but  she  would  have  been  so  alone .

 she  hears  his  whisper  and  she  pulls  away  just  slightly  so  that  she  can  press  her  forehead  against  his ,  hands  moving  to  hold  his  face  between  them  as  she  meets  his  eyes ,  brows  pinched .  “ you  are  never  out  of  options .  you  just  don’t  see  them  yet . ”  she  studies  him  for  a  long  moment ,  quiet ,  heart  breaking  for  him  because  she’s  helpless .  “ i  want  to  help …  tell  me  what  to  do . ”

The urge in him rises and Hill can’t help himself from almost scooping her up. He settles for just curling further over her; finding little convincing in his legs to hold them up any longer. Down they’ll go and safe she’ll stay.

But there’s always that for now.

He doesn’t know how to make her understand. She probably gets it on some level because Lilly is smart - wickedly so! It’s been proven in the act of somebody high, high up getting wind of her and being worried enough that they contacted Erik who instructed him. It’s a chain of events born from her intelligence and it still paints a final picture of her drenched in her own blood from his doings. Silly girl, he thinks angrily - fondly.

Tell him - if he presses his head hard enough against hers, then will she absorb everything from him? Every ounce of his conflictions and his restrictions and come to know that despite her optimism and insistence that there is no way this ends with a field of blooming flowers, welcoming them under a gently warming sun? Not a cloud, not a worry? Will she see it for what is is: a dark, dreary day sick with rain and congested with mud that will always run dirty... tinged with a lifeforce that may be hers or his.

Hill exhales. It feels like a disease, illing him into a sweat. But when he breathes it? It’s her he takes, the flavor of her fear and the lovely sweetness that underlies always. It shivers on his tongue and behind the lids of his closed eyes, tightly, he can see balls of light that pulse and suddenly she’s in the middle, haloed by it all.

“Lilly,” he begins, uneasily and spent. He’s glad now that they’ve managed to return to a housing - which in itself was an uncomfortable walk. The looks she garnered with a white beast by her side that could be a wolf weren’t very subtle, and it reminds Hill again of a new sliver of fear: Erik has eyes everywhere. He knows it well. Could they have been seen? At this point, it’s about keeping Lilly safe. Anything in his power. Maybe... maybe they can bridge the gap. Connect with his family, and anything else that could help him. The theory sounds easy and in writing, oh, isn’t it?? But establishing is so very different from manufacturing and Hill finds himself sprung back to the very tight spot again. “I don’t think there’s much you can.” 

He licks his lips in thought and tilts his head in a move that suggests maybe there is. “Unless... the only option you have right now is laying low.” He murmurs this, like there are ears in the wall and it fits his suggestion to boot. “You don’t make anything for awhile. Make people believe you’re gone. But just for now!” He pulls away to lift his hands and cup her face, bringing her eyes to his in earnest so she knows: this is not permanent. “Until I figure something out.”

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solemvictrix‌:

Her own body was tense, barely shifting under the dark of the night.  The light of the moon painted her fire-red hair a darker tone, the ageless fires having already raised into the tresses.  No blade had been summoned yet to defend herself, but it wouldn’t have been necessary even if he hadn’t stood down.

 Ashmenet had been hunted before, tracked throughout centuries.  Never had one been sent after her who was utterly clueless as to what she was.  Tales of a phoenix had reached their ears, whispers of a sleeping goddess were used to entice them, but none had been prepared for her.

And neither was she prepared for the sight before her.

The drop of his anger took the momentum of her movements.  Her hand, ponted out towards him, faltered in it’s conviction.  Blue eyes followed him, and as his mothertongue reached her thoughts her head tilted to the side in an inquistive, avian movement.

“Few who roam this earth do.”  She murmured and knelt down, the outstretched hand moving to touch the side of his face with a warming touch.  “Who has sent you, child, after prey without knowing what you were hunting?”

To be touched by a being as she put comfort into his bones.

He finds that he can’t help himself as he leans into her touch, offering her his neck without worry. Something about her offers no danger and enthralls him. By nurture, Erik makes him nervous. He holds Hill’s world in his grasp and a toe out of line can bring it crumbling to the ground. And so he never speaks of his work, of his tasks, and only follows through on them in mild agony - dread filling up his soul until it’s ugly, dark, and consuming.

But she asks so simply, so gently, and the floodgates opening with no pressure.

A mortal man. He finds his eyes to be half-lidded, and fights to open them further. She is beautiful in the shape of her face and the emotion that shows. Once there had been harbored anger born of defense. Now, sensitive to smell, he can detect a cautious worry. It soothes him. He knows nothing outside of werewolves. And men like that were dangerous.

He’d been regaled stories of humans known as hunters. Those who sought the creatures of the dark world and wished for their end. Many? Innocent. No divide between the good and the bad. He himself had never grown up in fear of them but he knew many relatives who had, living in towns heavily populated with such men and women.

Hill was just the unlucky beast who exposed himself.

But he was only the enforcer. A step closer brings him in nuzzling distance, but he politely touches his nose to her chin first - as introduction. Someone asked him to send me. His tail begins to sway in content. She is so inviting and it ebbs the ache of tension away from him that he had never realized possessed his bones and muscle. If I may know: who are you?

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                                      FANDOMLESS BRITISH THIEF 

                THE REPORTS OF MY DEATH HAVE BEEN GREATLY EXAGGERATED.                                featured on multimuse. previously found on fckiingloser.

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“THAT DAY EVEN THE MOON WAS SCARED OF YOU AND THE WAY YOU CARRY SO YOU SALUTED EVERY GHOST YOU’VE EVER PRAYED TO AND THEN BURIED IT WHERE BONES ARE BURIED”

packled by jo. no rules besides the norms, oc/canon friendly/versatile. read.

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500 + ppl follow me and this catastrophe of a boy now  ♡

                         & i’m full of this sort of, pride and joy, that really elates me now whenever i come on here.        i’ve been writing tass for years now,  and i’ve written a short story about him that won an award and i’m now writing his full story in a trilogy book series, with even the possibility of a fourth.     this has all been possible because of me, sure, but you all are such shining lights of support and kindness that it’s thanks to YOU as well, and you’ve really made me so happy.      thanks to the words and wisdom and general wonderful nature of ( particularly some ) you lot, i genuinely hold my writing so much dearer to my heart.   tass i’ve always loved.     he’s my most precious and adored creation,   but my writing has always worried me.   am i okay?   do i write well?   does it flow?   do people enjoy it?    you all, in some way, have utterly convinced me that i am good, i do write well & people do enjoy it. 

it’s crazy to me that i have a following of so many, that grows exponentially every week.     this is an original character,   there are no ways to learn about him other than this blog — and i have a tonne of meta.    so the fact that people keep pouring in, to learn about my boy, from me directly and love it again is absolutely crazy to me.  but i love you for it.      so with that,   thank you all for all of the support and love for donasdogamatatastos.      thank you for all of your support and love for me,    and thank you especially to these people. 

@killthebxy​ / @tocxmply​  ♡ 

fil, mate.   you are basically the entire reason i came back onto tass.   i remember logging in to mope about on here and seeing you still kicking around and being like —- you fucking know what?   this absolute beam of light is reason enough for me to come back.       i missed you and your impeccable writing and your unrivalled passion about your boy(s,  boy at the time) so much it played a huge part in my return.     so essentially, i owe all of this to you.    you are so kind, and so loving and so funny and such an incredible, incredible human being.     i consider you truly and deeply my dear friend, and i will always support you and absolutely adore everything that you do and everything that you are, until i’m old and grey and grumpy.  

@lickbatteries​ / @thegothfiles​

tylerrrrr bichhhhh . here’s another that’s been around with me for a long time, and i was so fuckin’ buzzed when i realized that you were still around.  you were always a friend to me, and always someone i enjoy so thoroughly ic and ooc all the time.   you’re so on vibe with my shitty humour and my general personality and you really made me feel welcomed and cherished even when we first met like —- a year and a half ago?!  and you’re still here, and you’re still AMAZING, and you’re still an absolute icon.  i cannot wait for what we’re gonna write together cause it’s gonna be STELLAR, i love u bichhh …. i ain’t ever gonna stop loving you …bichhhh

@artifexed​ 

OK , SO, RINNY.   rinny rinny rinny.   anyone who’s followed me for a while now KNOWS HOW MUCH I ADORE RINNY OK because how can you not?!   you are such a wholesome and talented person, and i love everything about you.  your creativity, your talent in writing and character creation ( making characters that are so amazing and stir genuine empathy is so, so incredible ) and you yourself as a person ooc.    you’ve been around with me on here for a while now too and i wouldn’t have it any other way, i love tass and josiah with my entire being and i love u the fuckin’ same — you rock, never change, you are insurmountably beautiful in every way

@crimsxnidol

ok hi…….. again i’ve had you around with me since very early on in my tass reboot and you NEVER FAIL to show your support and love towards me whenever you can and honestly? coming from you? someone who’s created one of the best and most grounded in reality ocs i’ve ever seen?  one of the most endearing and also heartbreaking but also funny and well rounded ocs?   it’s effortless to believe zack is even real perhaps, to relate to him in ways, you’ve breathed life into your boy and i’m in awe of you every day for it.   YOU FUCKIN ROCK YO and i adore you 

@dcllparted

another example of a phenomenal, very real original character. violet is complex and heartwrenching and exciting and beautiful and real.  you really give her a voice and a light thats incomparable to anything i’ve ever seen — and as far as talent goes, you dominate the scene.   reading your work is effortless and it flows so brilliantly and beautifully.     you write and violet speaks – and you understand her and love her so perfectly.  not to mention your graphics skills whewwww mama you are a TALENT in every single way and you are an AWESOME human being okay ily 

@unseencne​

what an absolute darling honestly,  we’ve been talking a shorter amount of time in comparison to the others on here but i wanted to shout you out because finding someone on here who’s so genuinely lovely is special enough to do so.     the love and understanding you have of hades is breathtaking,   and your writing and even writing style blows me away every time.       you are so truly honestly fuckin’ groovy and i never want you to forever that, you cool af and everything you do is cool af, and you’re an amazing doggie parent  ♡

@hakune

god i love you, that’s just the first thing that springs to my mind, you are just such a fucking radical human being and i just am so proud of everything you do ever and i LOVE it when you pop up on my dash or in my ims or my asks and isjfsdjfisjf whenever you write my heart pops cause i can’t handle the fuckin amazing outpour of talent that comes with it okay, you actual literal angel, never stop being one of the best people on here —- you fucking rock ok and ilysm

and now, for some others that i adore with my entire heart; 

you are all so divine and talented.  having you around makes tumblr a joy, and i wouldn’t change any of you for the world.   you are loved, important, treasured and absolutely irreplaceable. 

@prouddov  @spllcat  @pumpcursed  @gothsic  @shotbled  @anticheryl  @sociialpath  @sxdere  @beastingtm @famedcurse @guiltwrote @mortuam @shefleur @apostleled @legendmade @redhoneyhq @scarwritten @strigct @lcstrega @russianllterature @zcldrizes @speaksghost @cryptosnspooks @curiouskilled @fckdcrry @isfighting @deusexecratus

and now, for those that lara adores, but from afar … because i am #awkward

hi, i see you, i love your shit man, i love what you do, keep being awesome THANKS

@deliciouspants @muttbyte @butchmeat @ascotwearing @fourrarri @skllington @hellruins @draculyr @luciferspoke @sevnthson @ozwolff @jehstr @pistollips @anarchyslaughtcr  @macabreatlas @floodmother @deathwitness @clownwork @enravaged @liarecursive & many many more that i’m sure will come to me later ok ily

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This is how you fight back: Take the salt from your tears and amass a raging ocean from it. Spindle your cries into its own axis and unleash a sweeping hurricane. Mourn, and mourn, and mourn, for where we stand, gravity persists. And those with the heaviest hearts plant their feet into the earth the strongest. You are a force of nature, the salt of this earth, and this earth bends for nobody. So when they tell you to move, what do you say?

YOU MOVE. 

nikka ursula (n.t.)

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you passed out.

MISC ANGST !! / not accepting

So he did.

When he manages to lift himself from his cozy recline, the world wobbles. Hill squints as if that will fix it and when it doesn’t, settles on the fact the blow from the ground was heavier than he expected.

Although… he tries to discreetly inhale, taste her scent and let his brain configure it but it doesn’t take long in the end. The line of his jaw ticks when he clenches his teeth, the whine from the grind wheezing in his ears. He knows what the presence of a witch feels like; grew up around enough of them to tell newt from boil. But there is nothing rotten to her essence; there’s kindness there that seems inviting, and warm, and Hill is tired…

he shakes his head.

“You’re a witch.” He states and lacks surprise. The couch under him is too soft and gives far too much when he moves to try and stand. “I don’t mean to be a bother.” The proceedings before he ended up on her couch are lost on him. “I’m terribly sorry,” manners for a witch will keep you your tail, hillory.

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"can you walk?"

MISC ANGST !! / not accepting

“I’m not sure yet,” is the most honest answer he can give her, which feels wrong considering this lithe girl holds him up as if she sheds no sweat over it.

In the dark of the night, he huddles to her and brings her in, and they cross the street as such together. Somewhere a car alarm wails into the night but it’s not for them to worry about. His worries cut down to the fact he’s missing a great deal of his clothing (luckily he managed to recover his underwear and his shorts before she came across him) and he’s walking with a youngish looking girl. It’s too much danger.

But he can’t kill her; she’s not a hit nor does she deserve it, and Hill’s confident in the fact she didn’t see anything. There’s something about her that triggers his nose, tugs at the finer hairs with the want for him to realize something that he just– doesn’t. 

But hey. They walk, and she holds him up just fine - maybe almost to the point where Hill considers that his ankle is fucked, and she’s just pulling him along without making it seem like an effort. 

“Thank you,” he says and, “maybe I shouldn’t go running in the dark” because it seems like a fairly safe cover.

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agecfmiracles‌:

‘ oh, i used to watch this all the time as a kid on saturday mornings. ‘

good morning / good night starters

accepting || @muttbyte​

“Oh, me too, absolutely,” Max agrees with a grin, happy that someone has stopped to admire her Scooby-Doo patterned cardigan. “I used to drive my mom nuts on Saturdays because first, I would wake her up at about six because I was bored. Well, she worked late, so I was exiled to the living room to watch TV. Then there was the constant battle of me turning up the TV too loud because I couldn’t hear every spooky detail and mom yelling at me to turn it down because it was too loud, and me creeping it back up again. Every week. Cherished childhood memories.”

Hill doesn’t make it a habit of talking to strangers. He was raised right: don’t do that, and don’t put it in your mouth - which didn’t go a long way against werewolves.

But alas, he behaved and minded himself better than his sibling, at least. And maybe it was that that had prompted his question. He does miss his family, painfully so; a longing that can’t be filled with morning oatmeal by himself and the endless pit of tasks. 

However... charm does not escape him after a glance.

“You sound like you were trouble.” He says, and chances a smile. It fits, and doesn’t feel forced - not like they have been as of late. Hill warms to her for it, and adjusts the grip on his tavel mug. “My little sister’s really into it. That and Blue’s Clues,” his tone goes fond with memoir, and his smile softens from teeth to curled lip. He’s only a little flummoxed by her quick talking patterns, but -- she isn’t bad. Hill finds quickly that he’s missed talking to people. Wow. The feeling is sudden and uncomfortable, worrying away at the rest of the things to worry of.

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Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan (2018 - )

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rcppled‌:

This was off to a swell start in his opinion. Nothing Jie exploded right away, there wasn’t a flurry of gnashing teeth or claws, and everyone remained human. Well, for the most part. As a man of outlandishly keen observation, he caught sight of the nuances that came with the physical alterations of extreme discomfort. Hillory’s slight ticks were a good case in point. “No, no, no, no, caro- it’s not  bad thing. Well, if this was brought up in any other context it might be, but think of it as a sort of, um… couples therapy.” 

“Couples therapy?” The words were practically spat out after Jie regained his breath. “There’s nothing wrong with us- unless this is about our fights, but it’s not.. I don’t actually hate you.” 

A moment of something wavered on those stormy features. Something that struck an arrow right through Lior’s heart. Honest to the dead gods - he hadn’t thought he’d ever see the day Jie dished out an apology like this. “No, no, no, amore, that’s not what I meant. I like it when you hit me- okay, I didn’t meant to say it like that. Here. Let’s.. bring it back for a second.” The flat of his hands were held out as he spoke; half in wonderment of how skittish they were and half horrified of how fast they were derailing. 

Lior drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat before he spoke again. “What I was trying to achieve here were the secrets that we’re all living with. Mainly the secret of what we do for a living, because the outcome of it all is just.. mio Dio- it’s like herding a bunch of scared cats. I’ll go first, okay? I’m the proud owner of the Atlases as you all know. Now what you might not have known are the.. grimier parts of my somewhat recent past. Believe it or not, I used to be in a well known mafia. I was also a hit for hire, an annoying conman- so I’ve been told- oh, and Jie, dearest, the murdering is all in the far past. Even when I did kidnap someone it was for a good cause, and I did have their families, or friends, taken into account.”

Silver-blue eyes connected with hazel-gold; the latter widened in shock. “How..” The word was barely audible over the increased rush of blood in Jie’s ears. “How did you..”

The smile that pulled at Lior’s lips wasn’t careless or sly. No, it looked pained - if that was even possible for a man like him. “I might not be in the scene anymore, tesoro, but I have eyes and ears far and wide. That includes you too, Hill.” His eyes slid over to the other man; features softened with as much sympathy as he could muster.

Oh.

Oh! Well. That wasn’t so bad! With the heat off himself, it was absolutely fine! Playing referee is much safer than being a player, and it’s always amusing to see Lior and Jie fight like angry cats with grudges. He knows they love each other; has seen it first hand. It’s evident in every motion and every small touch they exchange. Even now: with Jie’s more than willing admittance of such. Watching them makes his gut flutter, invaded by butterflies with intent to call it home and he’s surefire to let them.

Lior doesn’t seen to have any shame in what he’s done. His long list of experience emasculates HIll’s own shortcomings as it goes and goes, and -- maybe if Hill weren’t as strange as he were and impossibly human he’d find it all grotesque. But most of it... god, he’s done. It’s too familiar and part of him mourns Lior and the paths we walked, lines crossed, to get to where they stand three in a room. He can’t help but press his palm to his clothed heart in sympathy, fishing for Jie’s reaction with a turn of the head.

The shock pulls the scar of Jie’s cheek and somehow, it makes him look more distraught. A veil breaks, he thinks, and longs to reach out. To soothe. Referee them into feeling better. Even Lior, though he sounded confident in his speech, looks a tad -- remorseful? Hillory can’t decipher it. Lior’s like that; a book with chapters that lead into further ones, sometimes without ever leading back. He’s charm and suave and Hill’s soothed --

until he isn’t.

The color pulls from the room as if the rain begged for it, for its droplets to be painted in glorious, vibrant washes. His life seems ripped from a film; his brain supplies dutch tilt, reverse dolly zoom, a lack of pink in his cheeks and skin, skin, skin until it isn’t skin it’s fur and holy shit he’s never shifted out of panic, out of being --

scared, he’s scared, that’s the feeling.

Why didn’t Jie do this? Jie, whose aghast face spoke volumes of horror? He’s a trigger on a gun with no safety. Surely this is more up his alley? But no. No such luck.

Hill fumbles from the couch, caught in his clothes. The sound is loud, a deep thunk that vibrates the closest sidetable. His grunt is terriblly squeaky and he’s -- embarrassed, the white glean of his fur a chromatic flash in the scheme of the room. What does a scared dog do? Well, he bares his teeth and so Hill does. He emits no sound because his mother taught him better, and besides, it wouldn’t help his image: caught in his button-up, cinched by his belt, legs immobilized by his jeans. 

He can’t rationalize it, and he should: because if he wasn’t about to leave Lior for his trials and tribulations, then why would they do the same against him? It’s illogical but being caught? In that moment, it feels real and Hillory can’t remember being this scared. Not since the time he first showed Claire his fur; tired and sore from a long, long day of hurt. 

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rcppled‌:

Shameful. 

That’s what this was. Absolutely shameful. A shattering wake up call that he wasn’t always made of unmatched skill and strength. That sometimes he really had fallen back to earth - torn from the same thread of a god and into something more mortal. Like Icarus he burned; blood drawn, ego crushed, mind hazy with pain. It took a considerable amount of strength to lay down. The wicked gash a grim reminder of the recent events. 

Ears perk and swivel at the first sign of another presence. A low growl already bubbled in his chest; ready to be let loose in warning. Yet the noise didn’t escape him - not fully at least. The vibrations simmered down as he watched the other intently. ‘Not well enough.’ Bitterness tainted his words and crinkled his muzzle. Though his body hurt, it was his pride that felt wounded the most. 

Hill huffs and noses closer, maw resting upon his paws now. His tail catches stray threads of dry grass and any inch of movement is terribly loud; crashing against the silence inside the stall. The creature’s scent shifts and Hill dog-grumbles, lifting his head with a jolt and pushing his paws closer until the tips of his claws nudge his friend.

‘It was only luck.’ He soothes. ‘I got a streak and that was it.’ And that could be true. Still; this is against the will of the beast. Hillory lifts his great head and eyes the top of the wooden stall. It’d be easier to jump - maybe not in awful condition as this dog but perhaps he’d clear it. Getting out from there would be no feat. If he had help... Hill debates this with a lean left of his head, then a lean right. 

Yes, yes he would.

‘You won’t have to do it again.’ He assures, and enforces his tone to back him up. ‘You can leave. I’ll help you.’

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rcppled‌:

A spike of guilt jabbed at him when his eyes flitted onto Hillory’s figure. The amount of stress that exuded from him could’ve been cut with a knife. And wasn’t that funny in the light of how Jie was the same - albeit in a more angry sort of way. “No, nothing wrong,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring slowness, “just wanted to.. address a few things.” A brief pause. “Air some dirty laundry out- which I know plenty of and I have some of my own too. It’s just.. a little tiring to go around living in separate lies, isn’t it?” 

Shit. 

Fuck.

Jie almost choked on thin air from what spewed out of Lior’s mouth. Scratch that, he actually did choke - even had to pat his own chest a couple of times to clear the airway. “What?”

That was it.

Hill straightened up like his spine was recalculating; disks slipping into place until he was locked tight. His nostrils flared on a deep, inaudible inhale. His nails turned to claws and gripped at his knees. Fight or flight. That was this, wasn’t it? The rock in his chest that seemed to expand until nothing could be spared or passed through. Was his vision whiting?

Was this the moment he would lose them?

Granted, it was his own meddling. He dabbled too much in a secret life; when he had met Jie in the midst of chaos, that fight, even that had been a lie - his escape, everything. He had never been honest outside of the feeling and the time spent. I can help you get out didn’t have the same feeling as I know this place pretty well, I’m here pretty often and something back then told him to lie, to flee, to pretend and now something did here too.

Lips clamped and brows, against his will mind you, too high on his forehead - Hillory cleared his throat. It was too loud. It drew too much attention; demanded it. Fight or flight, Hill - what’ll it be?

“Excuse me?” Flight it is. The level headed dog couldn’t take a scenario. Could he lie? No, if they were as good as he was with his sense, they would know the trip of his heart. “That sounds like there’s something wrong, Lior.” A full name from behind his teeth? Yikes. “What exactly are you trying say?” A tense line of a word, intersected with a chill.

[muttbyte]

brkmans‌:

                barry knows anger, knows it like he invented it, like it was birthed from his own chest. knows what it looks like and sounds like; knows that hill is angry, right now, in front of him. for what, the hitman couldn’t begin to know, and wouldn’t ask. if the other wanted to tell him, than he could. barry would let him. ‘if you, uh… if you need t’take this out on me…’ further and further he sinks into his eat, watching hill without blinking. he’s used to it, at least; didn’t mind others venting to him, yelling at him, if it made them feel better- as long as he knows he wasn’t the reason they were upset in the first place. ‘y’know i won’t complain,’

@muttbyte​ + small hands by radical face .

The fight evaporates out of him like a phenomenon.

Barry’s always been... quaint. He sticks to his guns but he’s quiet, observant. The word wallflower comes to mind. He’s perfectly present when he needs to be, always absorbing words and feelings and -- things. He’s hard to read. A book with blank pages you can only see with the right drops of water.

“What?” Exasperation colors the words like a mood ring; twisting from agonizing blue to pained green. When Hill stops and takes a good goddamn look at the place he sees the wreck he’s made of it; things thrown about, tossed carelessly, cross intelligible shouting. He cringes inwardly. Extends an arm - not quickly, just a firm raise. “I’m not -- I’m not mad at you.” It’s all pent up in his chest, overwhelming and nasty like an angry dog. “Not at you. It’s not you.” The words repeat until they’re a mantra, set aside just for Barry.

He crouches, and wonders if his shadow were a wolf: would Barry see the flattened ears, the tucked tail, the epitome of guilt? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... lost my cool.” Yeah. He really shouldn’t have. He thinks the chair with the broken leg would agree.

“Erik just...” infuriates him. angers him. kills him. pisses him off. makes him want to be destroy something. feelings he’s never entertained in the past. Hill offers a lukewarm smile and reiterates: “It’s not you.”

[muttbyte]

rcppled‌:

✃ ✁ closed | @muttbyte ✃ ✁

“Caro, amore- sit, please, sit.” This had to be the tenth time he asked since the three of them had arrived at his humble abode. “No need to be so tense, and before you say anything, Jie, I can practically feel how stiff you are from a mile away. And it’s not in a good way either.” Lior sniffed lightly as he brushed past the others to plop down on the couch.

“Smartass,” Jie muttered under his breath. Yet to his credit, he didn’t snap back with heated impatience or fists. He also didn’t sit like Lior had asked. Whatever the reason for this meetup didn’t sit right with him. He liked the other two well enough, but something felt off; like a spidey sense sort of tingle. 

This, he thinks as he runs his hand along the back of the couch on his way to sit in it, is the turning point. Something is going to change. He knows it by the lifting hair on the nape of his neck and the ice pick in his blood. But - he sits in obedience, casting a nervous, searching look towards Lior. Jie gets something a little softer, a little more uncertain. 

His knee begins to bounce. It jostles him and by proxy the couch. He wipes his hands, palms so sweaty, on his jeans but it does nothing but make him feel worse from the texture.

The air is charged. It prompts him to ask: “Is there something wrong?” An innocent question. Careful wording. Quiet tone. His throat clicks when he swallows - an obvious bob. Hill’s gaze switches nervously between Lior, who holds most of his anxiety, and Jie, whose unsettled body frame settles him ironically. His heart fidgets. His nose twitches, almost noticeably, as he scents them;

Lior: seafoam coating water while a storm crackles in the distance.

Jie: packmate by blood, warm and coppered.