[hellboyeda]

xnctafraid‌:

PSYCHO BLAKE.

     stare cuts towards the other.  a look that tells him he shouldn’t have opened his mouth.  there’s a clawing need to lurch towards murphy.  to press forearm against the column of his neck.  to squeeze airways as though that would stop him from t a l k i n g.  perhaps, the blake siblings aren’t so different after all.  ‘ shut up, murphy ’  a warning.  a growl.  guttural and low.  maybe she had turned out to be the basket-case, raised under the floor.  but she sure as hell didn’t need a COCKROACH to remind her about it.

        unamused.     he thought she’d put up more of a fight.   he’d heard it all before   :   shut up,   murphy.     watch your mouth.   it was the same dance,   even on a new planet.   but he enjoys the game,    the tango he plays with danger,   “   i can’t wait for you to go out of your mind down here too.   “   sarcasm drips from his tongue as he leans back in his chair,   “   what do you think will happen first   ?    you murdering everyone here,    or bellamy ripping your throat out  ?   “

[hellboyeda]

re  :   octavia blake    -    @xnctafraid

         he must be a    fucking    psychic.     green hues watch the girl,   her chest heaving up and down,   up and down.   violently.    more violently than a sword in her hand.   he watches her hands curl into balls in front of her,    as if she were struggling with an internal war,   a war she couldn’t physically fight.    he can’t help the smirk upon her features.    his brows raise in amusement.

                  “     you really are the psycho little sister,   huh.                                                        called it.   “

[hellboyeda]

re  :   raven reyes     -   @survivoers

       he’s calculated.    a smart mouth needed a smart brain.    he knew that whatever he said could either be recieved with positivity,   or a punch in the face.    and although he thrived on chaos and violence,    he considered himself    changed.    maybe he changed when a rope was wrapped around his throat   -   not that she was there to witness such a thing.    soft was something he   didn’t   do,     but he knew a thing or two about loss.   he chews the inside of his cheek,    bottle in hand.    swig is taken,   tongue running over bottom lip to catch the residue that sat upon the skin there.     he’d seen hell,   there was no going back now.                                                   YOU LOOK BETTER  DEAD.

                             “       maybe i should join shaw.    “

[hellboyeda]

        since the dropship and the rough landing they experienced in season one,    john hates flying.    he doesn’t let on,    of course,   but he starts feelin very sick whenever he’s in a ship that’s about to take off and usually has to close his eyes,   or look up at the ceiling until they land where they need to be.     this is much different from being on a moving vessel as he can hardly feel the gravitation pull or either think about the fact that the ship he is on is moving through space slowly.    he can’t feel like unlike a flying ship.

[hellboyeda]

     i need to make icon but like this for a season six starter

[hellboyeda]

                    in the desert,   i saw a creature,   naked,   bestial,   who,   squatting upon the ground,   held his heart in his hands,   and ate of it.   i said,   ’   is it good,  friend?   ’   ‘   it is bitter    -    bitter,   ’   he answered;  ’     but i like it,   because it is bitter,   and because it is my heart.     ‘  

                                          john murphy  written by iisms.

[hellboyeda]

                    in the desert,   i saw a creature,   naked,   bestial,   who,   squatting upon the ground,   held his heart in his hands,   and ate of it.   i said,   ’   is it good,  friend?   ’   ‘   it is bitter    -    bitter,   ’   he answered;  ’     but i like it,   because it is bitter,   and because it is my heart.     '  

                                          john murphy  written by iisms.

[hellboyeda]

                    in the desert,   i saw a creature,   naked,   bestial,   who,   squatting upon the ground,   held his heart in his hands,   and ate of it.   i said,   '   is it good,  friend?   '   '   it is bitter    -    bitter,   '   he answered;  '     but i like it,   because it is bitter,   and because it is my heart.     '  

                                          john murphy  written by iisms.