#executiioner

eyes catch eyes , standing a few inches from one another, was always a danger with the initial attraction that remained regardless especially in a serious situation. ❝ i'mma need ya to step back darlin'. ❞

memes. / always accepting.

　He hates it when people try to read him. They only ever manage to see what they think Billy is and seldom what he actually is. There is a piqued glint to his bright blue hues. That irritatablity was so evident as it painted its way over his countenance. "Congrada-fucking-lations. You are one observant motherfucker." His potty mouth was so second nature and crude at times. Something he truly couldn't help even if he tried. "What would I have done without that keen assessment?"

THE RUINS OF THE DAY PAINT THE SKY , rosy fingered dawn spreading loving fingers over the new york skyline , leaving the city painted in the hues of fading light . loki stands above it all , rigged temp - pad in one hand , the other sparking vibrant green for mere moments before sinking into shadow once more .

time in the tva was . . . strange , passing all at once far too quickly and glacially slow until loki was left altogether unsure how long it'd been since they'd been ripped from their time line and unceremoniously reminded just how small they were in the grand scheme of things . a rather rude wake up call , though long over - due . now , as they gaze out at the city they'd last seen in ruins below them , there's a small part that is thankful for its continued existence , though largely they find the hustle and bustle of the human city to be rather . . . annoying . the sounds below bleed into each other , deafening in volume until approaching footsteps barely sound against concrete . years of training has head turning at approach , narrowing upon the pale slip of a thing approaching their perch atop park bench .

Nothing was cooking. Nothing in the oven to be some comical plot device later to interrupt them when it started to burn. Eggs were left uncooked, the carton and pan and spatula sat waiting and ready near the stove. All that had been managed was the coffee and both mugs sat at varying levels of somewhat touched off to the side and outside the danger zone.

Maybe it was their own levels of stress going on in their own individual lives or maybe this was just what they did now. Regardless, they'd found themselves tangled up in one another in the peace of his overly clean kitchen in the early morning hours. Sudden kissing had led to sudden groping and then suddenly shirts were open, pants were shoved down, and they were both left in states have hardly and halfway dressed.

❝ I dare not consider what a third party might describe us as right now. ❞ he rumbled lowly, arousal tainted with light-hearted amusement. He'd bent her over the cleared kitchen bar, hand smoothing down her back. His fingers traced briefly over the back strap of her bra-—mercifully left on if only to spare her to chill of the cool counter surface.

Clark could have just marveled and gawked if not pushed to do more. Both hands greedily roamed over flesh at an agonizingly slow pace. ❝-—You attacked first. What do you want, hm? I don't think either of us have the time and you not the patience for what I want. Best you direct. ❞

the   well   had   dried   and   he   had   been   desperate.   he   had   been   attacked   twice   since   he   had   met   her   and   it   had   started   to   get   old.   they   had   woken   a   hurricane   inside   of   him   …   and   it   was   close   to   a   full   moon.   his   emotions   were   unbalanced,   reached   to   a   fever   pitch   with   no   end   in   sight.   this   was   not   a   dream.   a   fantasy   world   where   there   was   a   hero   and   a   villain.   there   was   no   black   or   white.   and   as   the   vampire   in   his   hand   struggled   against   him,   lincoln   thought   about   how   this   was   going   to   end.   he   was   not   human.   “   where   is   junie   and   who   the   fuck   keeps   sendin’   the   zombies   after   me   ?   “

“   i   -   i   don’t   know!   honest!   i   would   never   lie   to   you   linc!   “   the   vampire   pleaded.   “   we’re   family   !  " he   tossed   the   vampire   across   the   room   and   crashed   into   the   display   of   early   man.   daniel   wasn’t   there   and   the   museum   was   closed.   but,   did   he   care   ?   no.   the   vampire   whined   or   groaned,   he   wasn’t   sure   nor   did   he   care   as   he   stepped   up   to   him   with   glowing   red   eyes.   “   i’m   giving   you   one   more   chance   t’   answer   me   riley.   where   the   fuck   is   junie   ?   lie   t’me   and   i’ll   give   you   over   to   her.   “   lincoln   knew   she   was   there.   the   familiar   pull   of   her   magic   was   an   intoxication   he   could   never   escape.   once   he   was   done   with   his   cousin   …   no,   the   traitor   he   would   talk   to   her.   right   now,   his   focus   was   on   the   vampire   on   the   floor,   looking   frightened   up   at   him.

“   i   don’t   know   who   the   hell   junie   is,   linc   !   why   don’t   you   talk   to   daniel   ?   i’m   sure   he   could   –   gah   !   “      lincoln   pressed   his   boot   to   riley’s   throat,   pinning   him   to   the   ground   as   he   turned   his   head   and   spoke   to   anita   from   over   his   shoulder.

deathless ♚ sentence meme

@executiioner asked: ❛  you've been playing with me!  ❜

THAT'S A bit of a strong statement , she thinks . PLAYING WITH implies a certain level of intended malintent . something almost sadistic in its purpose . crowley just thought it a little amusing to give the creature hunter a bit of a RUN AROUND .

There was a gloom to the day — – gray clouds overhead pregnant with rain that threatened to burst at any moment. It was in the air, the smell of a coming storm and it seemed fitting for the thing that Jericho Tanner had been hired to hunt. He had gone out of his way to find the case, knowing that it would deal with the corrupted undead. All through the city, there were patches of areas where the supernatural and the mystical liked to dabble. Territories that had hard lines drawn that if crossed would cause issues. He played the part of a naive private investigator well enough that he had pegged his client being part of the entire unchecked magics. It amused him that playing dumb often gained more information. Oh, hey there! I’m a half-elf that’s just itching to put a bullet in something. Wanna hire me ?  That never seemed as if it would end too well for him.

He had followed the client to one of those territories that no one was supposed to cross. So deep in dark magic that even the normals avoided it because it caused their hairs to stand on end. Jericho had been fortunate and had followed the trial easily. The client only knew basic tactics that some idiot would see in a movie. Were he not trained to track, they may have gotten away. The apartment building he slowly entered had been abandoned for years. Used for drug addicts and squatters — – and from the smell of it, the living dead. That was perfect for him. He had the pistol drawn, the hammer cocked, and a full clip of blessed bullets loaded.

It had been too quiet, until he was close to the stairs to the second floor and had heard the creak of flooring from one of the abandoned units. He held his breath, listened, and moved toward the opened door with the pistol posed for attack. Until he peeked inside and saw a very familiar face. Fuck me, he thought. Of course she would be here since it dealt with the dead. The pistol was still drawn but aimed away from Anita Blake as he slipped into the room. “This is my fuckin’ mark, Blake. Go play Marshal Barbie somewhere else.”