And when I asked you how you’d been, I meant I missed you more than I’ve ever missed anything before.

 - Iain Thomas,  I Wrote This For You (via quoted-books)

"Don’t worry. Despite wherever my glance may wonder and what you my think, it’s not your bosoms that makes you interesting. You are as a whole quite an exceptional person.”

Let Justice roll down as waters, and Righteousness as an ever-flowing stream.

 - Amos 5:24



"Sugarplum!" Jean reached her just before she touched the ground. It was still hailing metal around them. Jean also had been touched but he hadn’t fall. He took Darcy in his arms and shouted in his radio "Agent down! Agent down!" while running as fast as he could away from the infuriated sniper’s range. She wasn’t light but it was as if he couldn’t feel her weight.

He put her down as delicately has he could behind the shelter of a wall. “I repeat I have a wounded agent here!” Only static replied to him. If only he knew where ‘here’ was. He was panicked by the amount of blood on his suit. Especially, since he knew that most of it wasn’t his. The bullets that had touched him had gone through and therefore his wounds immediately closed on themselves. It still hurt like hell but that’s what adrenaline was for.

He caught back his breath while getting out of his jacket to make her an improvised pillow. Her eyes were open and alive but she was so pale. 

"Help is on it’s way. Darcy, stay with me right? Darcy, can you talk?"

She wasn’t even supposed to have been there to start with. It was an accident, this was wrong

Darcy wasn’t an agent- just asset, just an intern, just somebody who was supposed to stay back and make snarky comment son the sidelines, and this guy was cheating. With her face down in the dirt, the cement cold and hard against her face (you’ve just been shot once, loser, get up, get up, you’ve sen Natasha take better hits in scarier places and still kill a handful of dudes with her thighs, get up), it’s all she can think  of,over and over - its not fair, he cheated, he broke the rules, I’m nobody, I’m nothing, you’re not supposed to shoot at me-

And somewhere in the middle of her self-pity, she’s not on the ground anymore, but moving, and not of her own accord. Darcy takes a sharp breath in, and among blood and sweat, she smells something sweet and manly and soap. It seems ridiculous, almost laugh-worthy, that there should be the scent of soap in a place and time like this, and Darcy does chuckle, just a little bit.

Somewhere above, thunder claps and lightening flashes, and they stop moving long enough for Darcy to recognize the man who’s got her scooped up and lays her down so gently.

Like a corpse.

"Jean…Jean, I’m not gonna die, am I?"

For personal reasons, Jean always had trouble to see a woman crying, a woman in pain, a woman in distress. Right now, he was covered with a woman’s blood and he had to keep his mind working, for her, to save her. Before answering her, he had to gulp his growing panic, control his adrenaline levels and check on her injury. He blinked once or twice to get rid of the rage and other emotions that was blurring his vision.

She was touched to the biceps. The bullet had gone trough ripping of a lot of muscle on it’s way. The flow of blood was constant but not pumping so it most likely hadn’t damaged an artery. Darcy was not a trained agent. A wound like that had to make her fall but in itself it was not an immediate vital threat. The shock state was an immediate vital threat. The blood loss was an immediate was a vital threat. The potential infections were vital threat. The all area around them was a vital threat. 

Applying pressure in an effort to stop the blood flow, Jean breathed in and breathed out to get rid of the growing panic inside him. She had asked a question and he had to reply. Even if the radio hadn’t replied to his call.

He tried to look confident. He managed to smile a little. “No, no, you’re not going to die I’m not going to let that happen and you know me. I’m stubborn.” He saw that the blood had stop dripping from her wound and he chose to release the pressure long enough to rip one of sleeves. That was not an easy task since his tailor was talented and when he finally managed it, he had to rush up to make her an improvised bandage which was immediately soaked red. But it had to do, it had to do. She was brave.

He tried a call on the radio again to no avail. He turned to Darcy. She was brave but she was in pain. He was feeling the same pain where the bullets had touched him. He had been touched twice has he was carrying her under cover. He knew that it was barely bearable and yet the wounds on him were not visible nor real anymore.

He had to get her out of shock state. Give her hope, however little. He was afraid that her wound might get infected. Do you see this ring? It’s a family thing for good luck. It protects me.” He was afraid that she might get hurt again. “My sister gave it to me so I have to have to keep it.” He get the ring out of his finger wondering how it would affect the magic and him. An increase in pain made him realize that it wasn’t a good idea. Except that nothing happened to his injuries so it didn’t change his mind and he slipped the ring on Darcy’s right index finger. “Clench your hand on this. Take care of it.” Could the magic stop the blood loss and made her feel better? Well, at least : “Now it protects you, but you will have to give it back to me okay? When we will both get out of this you will give it back to me or my sister will kill me. Deal?”

She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again.

 - Glenda Millard, A Small Kiss in the Dark

Meanwhile, so the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe channeling asecretagentleman…


Meanwhile, so the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe channeling asecretagentleman…

The truth: it is a beautiful and terrible thing, and must therefore be treated with great caution.

 - J.K. Rowling (via inspiremetobeinspired)

Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny…

 - C.S. Lewis (via inspiremetobeinspired)

If you want to see the true measure of a man, watch how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

 - J.K Rowling, Author (via bestbandquotes)
ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ don’t hurt them
t h e y are αℓℓ I have left

Eleven is my favorite number!


Because that’s how many new followers I’ve got:  vibepurveyor, cowboijung, just-a-innocence-lost, tobymobias,
wordissound, arte-fucked, ohdarlingdankeschoen, jadecatband,
lost-in-the-motions, idowens, and theveilisgone!

Thank you and welcome!  

(If I’ve thanked a few of you before, it’s because I’ve gotten too far behind on my thanking and wanted to be sure I didn’t miss anyone…)


The Roleplayer Body Language Challenge


Try to go one day without writing that your muse did any of the big five:

  • nodded
  • grinned
  • bit their lip
  • smirked
  • shrugged

Instead, try to convey your muse’s emotions with unique body language: toe curling or the staccato of fingers tapping on the counter, a barking laugh or sparkling eyes.

Think you can do it?

Tags:   #no  #I can't either