death before dishonor

too bad i'm the bet that you lost in the reaping , now what will you do when i go to my grave ? an odds man , not a broker. wyatt callow from s.c.'s masterpiece snrise on the reapng. as drawn up by ( solito ) [ f / 25+ ]. featured on @dngerclose ( a softlaunch blog ) , blog is rated [ r / 21 + ] for violent and sexual content , follow at your own risk.

drlangdn. doctor frank langdon , senior resident at pittsburg trauma medical hospital. hired by solito. writing is rated [ r / twenty-one + ] for heavily triggering content. this is going to be a long shift.

the marshal mirrored his stance, hands on the counter between them, watching him through the tension. she knew better than to turn her back on a predator. and while she didnt think he would hurt her, she wasnt stupid enough to go against her own instincts. so she kept his gaze, dark eyes boring into his. she understand what he didnt understand. she played back her words in her head and still fell short of why this seemed to get under his skin. she wasnt dumping him ( not that they were together ) or telling him hes off her roster. it was one job.

" you played nice with someone who had the same goal. had i killed that guy because he was a bad business partner, you wouldve put a bullet between my eyes and never looked back. "

there was no question in her voice, no hurt, not even anger. it was just a fact. she knew huck. she knew how he ticked, what side of the bed he slept on, what he could do and what he couldnt. he knew her too, probably better than she wanted to admit. so why didnt he trust her on this? he trusted her with his life, with his body and yet his pride seemed to want to eat her alive. and it pissed her off. maybe after all of this, he didnt trust her at all. he was still playing nice. fuck that.

sometimes , but not always , the man wonders how he has ended up in this situation. with trust in a woman that would slit his throat in his sleep if asked by the government to do so , and yet sleeping so comfortably next to her that it felt almost like home. if the feeling could ever return to him, he expected that it would come in a manner somewhat like this. and yet , she does not seem to feel the same way. or at least... she keeps stating things that make him want to crawl under his skin and tear apart the flesh from his own bones.

the tease at his ego , is insane. a small blink in her direction and arms cross over a tight chest. jealous ? over what. some pretty american gun toy. that runs around taking orders like a dog ? if he wanted to do such a thing he would have stayed in the military. or does she mean jealous of the kill ? of getting to spend time with her ? jaw clenches and he swallows. eyes narrowing slightly. ❝ y'sure y'wanna go there darlin' ? ❞

there is a layer of threat in his voice that reverberates as tension under his own skin. he can feel it , as if it is lightening sparking across all of his bones. he is now , upset. fingers dig into the flannel cloth around his arms , clenching the fabric as hands turn to fists the longer he stares down at the curly haired latina. ❝ i am not , jealous. i'm just sayin' y'made the wrong call. ❞ his voice is hard and somewhat strained as if he doesn't want to actually give her the satisfaction of an answer. anita is almost never wrong. the fact that she did not even consider that he would be conforming if required to be felt like an insult above any other.

IT WAS WEIRD FEELING, to react to something that her morals said she shouldnt. huck was better at allowing the darker parts of himself to breathe while she tended to try and drown them. yet when he leans closer, his all attention on her, the less she cared about what was right. it was just them after all—and other peoples on their skin. she adjusted herself on the sink so that he stood between her knees, her hand moved to cup his chin between her pointer and thumb. she met his gaze, her heart skipped at the desire that stared back her before she used the warm cloth to clean the splatter of blood off his cheek. like she said, having huck shirtless and covered in blood was a distraction, the kind that had her ruining her new underwear in a way that had nothing to do with blood and guts.

there's a serenity to their quiet quarters , a moment of silence as if the world around them were required to die in order to keep moving forward. he knows the warmth in his chest is partially due to continued adrenaline running through empty veins that have no way to maintain any sense of feeling on their own. the only time he manages to retain feeling is when he's doing something that returns the heat into his body , the warmth of danger keeps him feeling that nice ninety-eight-degree humanity. or... someone , with bouncing curly black hair and suntanned skin , and the deepest pools of brown eyes the world had ever seen... as if she kept the earth's secrets buried in them. and had no plans on letting them out.... yes, she also knew how to keep that heat running. sometimes he wondered , if she had been meant to all along.

BECKETT (2021) dir. Ferdinando Cito Filomarino