#i-think-we're-alone-now.mp3

[lifesver]

@johnnysslaughter said: “ i promise you, you and i are gonna have some fun. ”

at first, he barely registers johnny's voice, dragging him harshly from of the mercy of unconsciousness, as sharp, mean features swim into view across from him. a predatory gleam in the haze. leland's head lifts slightly, eyes flicker sideways as he surveys blurry, unfamiliar surroundings. he feels heavy, he feels cut-open, and raw. his neck hurts from this position, but not as much as the rest of him hurts. breathing still hurts, he notes, as he feels the air strain in his chest, rasp past split lip, cracked with old blood. when leland shifts, he's made aware of his restraints, keeping him tightly in place. different, more practiced, he thinks, than the hackjob bindings they'd all escaped from, before.

how stupid was he, to think it would be over quickly? it was never going to be that easy. dying meant he wouldn't get to play with you, anymore. and you had already taken all the others from him. eyes shut tightly; gut reaction is sudden, and dizzying. his breath catches, he feels sick. this — whatever this was, would be worse. worse than everything else.

he remembers, now — he should be afraid. but he can't even bring his body to flinch back from johnny, just then — like his nerves had all shorted out. leland opens his mouth to speak, jaw feeling like rusty hinges, but he can't make a sound, at first. he has to drag his voice up through the reeds; ❝ get... the hell away from me. ❞ he whispers, jagged and painful — because it's all he can do, throat abused from shouting, sobbing, snarling. and like he's already forgotten his position, he throws his weight against his restraints, like a toothless threat — stay the fuck back. of course, he doesn't get anywhere. just gets jackknifing pain up every inch of his body.

he feels something tugging at the thin skin of his ribs — twinging along his back, and arms, with every shaky inhale. new stitches, he suddenly realizes. someone had taken the care to sew together numerous knife slices. he can feel them in his cheek when he winces. shit. he can barely remember what had happened, after the generator. after the sunflower field. he can't even begin to guess how long he'd been out. had it been hours, or days?

he misses the safety of it — the dreamless, empty sleep, where the voices around him were distant, and couldn't hurt him. before someone had caught him right on the precipice of darkness, and forced him back to the blinding surface. as he stares bitterly silent back at johnny, he has a hard time imagining the patch-job had been his doing.

after everything, he was back in this god-forsaken basement. no. wait. not the basement, anymore. at once, dread climbs spindly-legged up his chest. he can hear the wind through the walls. there are personal belongings scattered in his peripherals. leland blinks hard, flashbulb memory bringing back the feeling of being dragged through the grass. eyes rolling back to see a star-speckled night sky. austere shapes looming in the dark, a house, a shack. somewhere else. alone with a goddamn serial killer.

he swallows, and still tastes copper. ❝ i've... had enough fun, thanks, ❞ leland answers, after a long moment, and rough with gravel. he adjusts to straighten as best he can, testing the rope around his wrists. he can hardly summon the grit, but his eyes leer at johnny from under his lashes. ❝ why... why did you keep me alive? ❞ what do you want from me? he had seen the bodies strewn all over the basement. the ones that were hung up, veiled in plastic in the freezer room. maybe, he should have envied them.

[demonbloodhrt]

me scrolling thru my dash having every word for destiel blacklisted

[saranghacs]

            (&; @galaxy-writter )

Hace días que habían quedado de acuerdo para verse esa noche, pasaba tanto tiempo con Five, cantidad que no se igualaba jamás al tiempo que llegaba a pasar con los demás. En su compañía se sentía más cómoda, y él la hacía sentir de una manera que nunca nadie la había hecho sentir.

Se encontrarían en el mismo lugar de siempre, ese que se encontraba en la azotea y al que iban cuando todos se iban a dormir. Esta era una de esas veces, donde esperaban más allá de la hora de dormir para escabullirse de su habitación, y llegar hasta el lugar citado. Antes se dedicó a preparar bocadillos para ambos, de los favoritos de ambos, los cuales guardó muy bien, y luego escondió en su habitación, para llevarlos con ella cuando saliera.

Llegó al punto de encuentro, su lugar no era que estuviera escondido en algún lado, sólo disfrutaban de que podían sentarse ahí para ver las estrellas, esta noche había luna llena, y brillante.

---¿Five?---llamó no muy alto, al no verlo a simple vista.