#actssassin

[daisytinge]

@actssassin said :   ❛ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥. ❜                                                    FOLKLORE STARTERS  |  (  NOT ACCEPTING  !  )

       THERE  IS  NO  CONSTANCY  TO  HER  .   she  would  scrub  her  past  clean  meticulously  /  dress  in  colors  she  never  wore  to  construct  the  woman  she  would  be  for  the  foreseeable  future  (  futures  to  her  were  like  what  seasons  were  to  the  year  .  drastic  ,  though  imperceptible  as  they  unmade  themselves  /  a  golden  day  eroding  into  a  snow-laden  one  from  one  night  to  the next  )  stillness  was  not  something  she  could  afford  to  crave  ;  it  was  a  luxury  and  perhaps  ,  also  a  given  for  people  unlike  her  .  WHAT  DOES  QUIETUDE  MEAN  TO  TWELVE  WOMEN  WEARING  THE  SKIN  OF  ONE  ?  but  she  did  …  she  found  a  hush  in  the  stubble  along  a  chin  ,  in  a  towering  silhouette  and  two  left-feet  .  still  ,  she  faced  the  lulling  comfort  the  only  way  she  knew  how  :  by  running  .  the  agent  had  always  been  a  study  in  retreat  (  nothing  said  home  to  her  quite  like  a  getaway  car  and  an  open  road )  THEN  I  SLAMMED  THE  BREAK  /  I  HIT  A  DEAD  END  WITH  YOU  .  there  was  no  way  to  go  but  back  . 

          when  she  returns  to  their  shared  apartment  ━  the  same  four-walls  they  had  played  house  within  for  the  past  three  years  ━  she  is  a  bullet  finding  its  target  .  her  partner  is  a  facade  of  nonchalance  before  her  sat  at  the  kitchen  table  .  still-warm  coffee  steaming  atop  the  counter  just  as  she  had  left  him  .  emotion  stirring  in  the  river-blue  of  his  eyes  .  was  it  resentment  ?  scorn  ?  a  sliver  of  hope  held  out  for  this  sham  they  had  built  together  ?   BREATHLESS  ,  A  LAUGH  THAT  LEAVES  HER  IN  THE  AFTERMATH  OF  HIS  WORDS  .  caution  to  the  wind  and  heart  on  her  sleeve  she  descends  upon  him  .  ❛  i  don’t  want  to  do  this  alone  anymore  .  ❜  frank  ,  too  honest  ,  the  statement  almost  registers  as  plain  until  she  traps  him  in  his  seat  .  a  leg  on  either  side  of  the  chair  as  she  deposits  herself  upon  his  lap  unceremoniously  .   her  hands  are  cupping  his  face  (  they  had  feigned  this  act  of  intimacy  so  many  times  before  yet  now  her  touch  is  tender  and  real  )  she  does  not  deflect  ,  she  does  not  look  away  .  every  piece  of  her  and  every  version  of  her  is  here  and  present  with  him  .   ❛  i  can’t  run  …   not  without  you  .  ❜  grip  tights  as  she  pulls  him  to  her  lips  brushing  lips  until  it  crumbles  into  a  display  of  desperation  .  her  mouth  pleading  against  his  own  ;  parting  and  impassioned  .  ❛  come  with  me  ,  honey  .  ❜  it  is  but  hiss  across  his  skin  ,  air  which  they  share  .  a  plea  that  is  sweet  enough  to  eat  . 

[valseamour]

→ starter for @actssassin​ ; 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐧.

have you ever loved someone before you even knew there was such a thing between you? have you ever loved someone and only realized much later rather than sooner, that love is what sets your soul alight? ella finds herself caught by those questions at the oddest of times but they always aflame when she is around barry; they have been practically inseparable for a while since their run of romeo & julet, but now that they have their two weeks off, she finds she can hardly separate from him still. this is their first trip out of the country, the beauty of the french riviera laid out in front of them, and their first vacation ever together. she thinks they are comparably well equipped, after they have been practically living at each other’s places and she has fallen asleep on his couch ( and tentatively in his bed as well, but only for the past weeks, ever since rehearsal ) more often than she can count at this point. barry, he makes her feel safe and loved and fearless, and that is something ella cherishes incredibly.

being here, in france with him, it is a little like marrying him to the puzzle pieces of her past though, of course, the golden sunshine and the wide, turquoise ocean have nothing to do with rainy london, and only come that close to the lavish fields of her childhood home. it is enough though, with him more than enough anyway, and she notices how slipping into the language she was raised on comes easier to her around here than in new york   ——    unsurprisingly. she steals a glance at barry next to her, for once seemingly relaxed; it makes her smile and him almost vulnerable in her eyes. gently, ella reaches over to capture his fingers between hers, directing him to look at her as she presses a soft kiss to the palm of his hand. .         ❛ would you wanna go down to the beach or go back to our hotel? ❜  she asks, honestly curious. their room is not incredibly luxurious, but it has a bed fitting the both of them with fine sheets and a balcony with a view on the sea and she doesn’t need anything more than that, but she knows that barry prefers peace and quiet. this, it is for the both of them after all.

[lalavande]

——  𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. (1/?) 

feat. @actssassin

[korezni-a]

@actssassin​ sent in an  ‘ 💬 ’ and gets a starter !

a dim smile growing over scarred features     ,       taking his boyfriend’s hand with sureness in the security of his quarters    ,     hands intertwining and hazel gaze watching the movement as he says    ,     “    but this is the only thing that's made the last three years bearable .   ”

[armurie]

actssassin said: " you're a good guy, hank. "

     EXPRESSION ON HANK’S FACE SOFTENING, he leans in to kiss barry’s cheek. only for the fracture of a second.      ❛   so are you. ❜

[agenteller]

@actssassin said  :                    ‘ 𝚊𝚛𝚎  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛  𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 ? ’ 

     𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜  𝚊𝚜  𝚊  𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝  𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔  .   cracked  windshield  ,  rear  window  shattered  and  she  is certain  there  is  more  than  one  bullet  lodged  into  the  cream-colored  upholstery  of  her  seat  .  every  car  she  drives  like  a  convertible  —  wind  in  her  hair  ,  revving  engine  regardless  if  the  vehicle  in  question  could  barely  break  seventy  without  protesting  .  o’  and  she  laughs  !  (  something  wild  ,  something  fierce  ,  something  with  utter  abandon  )  he  is  beside  her  ,  reloading  a  semi-automatic  though  they  were  no  longer  being  pursued  .  her  partner  was  a  good  shot  maybe  almost  as  good  as  she  was  a  driver  .  EVER-MODEST  THE  MECHANIC  . humility  did  not  keep  you  alive  in  their  line  of  work  .  but  severity  ?  gaby  could  take  or  leave  the  notion  —  more  likely  to  leave  it  ,  far  off  and  in  her  dust  ,  than  let  it  possess  her  .  no  ,  there  is  nothing  subdued  about  her .  this  question  mark  that  takes  on  the  form  of  a  woman  .  a  secret  caught  behind  blacked-out  prada  lenses  .    

                                                         “  are  you  ever  serious  .  ”  

     she  kills  the  volume  on  the  radio  as  they  pull  off  the  road  ,  fading  into  anonymity  in  a  lot  chock  full  of  modest  sedans  (  what  a  pretty  pair  they  make  in  their  family-friendly  shell-shocked  volvo  !  )  ❛  i  can  be  —  i’ve  been  known  to   …  ❜  all  half-way  answers  ,   a  waving  dismissive  gesture  .   ignition  clicking  back  and  the  rickety  vibration  of  the  motor  cuts  .  quiet  as  any  mouse  /  small  as  one  too  when  sat  beside  his  imposing  frame  (  another  act  ,  another  deception  .  look  diminutive  be  immense  ,  a  substantial  presence  in  any  room  —  or  in  this  case  ,  vehicle  )  she  is  leaning  over  the  gearshift  .   a  hand  on  his  knee  and  the  other  lifting  the  gun  from  his  hold  only  to  let  it  tumble  away  rather  carelessly  above  the  dashboard  .  down  ,  down  ,  towards  the  fracturing  front  window  .  one  recalls  her  past  life  as  a  dancer  as  she  moves  —  the  learned  grace  still  present  in  the  easy  maneuvering  of  her  legs  even  when  she  should  have  lacked  the  necessary  space  to  do  so  .  in  one  fluid  motion  she  has  situated  herself  atop  him  .  her  thighs  pressed  against  his  own  ,  sitting  face-to-face  /  nearly  nose-to-nose  .

         it’s  as  if  she  has  been  utterly  silent  till  now  .  the  depth  of  their  sudden  quiet  deepening  the  closer  she  looms  ,  brown  eyes  darkening  .  fingers  twinning  in  the  collar  of  his  shirt  her  lips  grazing  the  small  visible  edge  of  bone  there  before  trailing  upwards  .  exhaling  in  a  slow  deliberate  stream  across  his  neck .   another  kiss  she  buries  into  skin  every  so  often  ,  with  a  series  of  more  sweeping  behind  it  .  wrapped  arms  on  top  of  his  shoulders  ,  they  are  flush  together  with  no  room  to  spare  .  her  mouth  ,  warm  and  inviting  having  reached  his  jawline  .  she  wastes  no  time  until  the  moment  their  lips  meet  and  it  becomes  a  slow  purposeful  display  .  a  deep  inhale  .  THIS  IS  A  GIRL  WITH  RESOLUTION  IN  HER  KISS  .  DO  YOU  BELIEVE  IT  ?  IS  IT  REAL  ?  she  can’t  say  she  knows  herself  —  the  simple  truth  being  :  she  likes  how  he  feels  beneath  her  ,  sturdy  and  yet  just  about  to  splinter  .  his  bottom  lip  is  captured  between  her  teeth  and  with  one  final  soothing  peck  to  the  bruise  she  inflicts  ,  she  recants  .  ❛  serious  enough  for  you  ?  ❜  it  is  the  closest  she  can  come  to  saying  that  she  means  it  ,  that  she  meant  for  this  to  happen  —  that  for  once  impulsivity  had  not  entirely  been  her  master  (  but  it  looked  an  awful  lot  like  the  opposite  ,  didn’t  it ? )

[sanctamater]

just be nicer. :/

gonna need u to shut up there barry

[sharpshoots]

          jesper may not fit in with the other fabrikators in os alta, particularly, but at least he can look the part.     in his formal kefta, the regal purple and gray of the order of durasts, the tall, lean zemeni stands out  -  in the best possible way, if one asked his   very humble   opinion.  he still struggles with every lesson, still wonders why he isn’t capable of the same things his fellow fabrikators are, but he’s impressive in the uniform and he figures that’s a start.  it’s when he’s examining the appetizer table  -  a fascinating, indulgent spread, only some of which jesper recognizes  -  that he notices the other man, hovering a  respectful  distance away as his charge, the loquacious king of ravka, makes cheerful conversation with some emissary from shu han.  he looks approximately the way jesper   feels   all the time:  out of place and vaguely uncomfortable.   (  jesper has always been good at hiding behind pleasantries and sarcasm, a skill he only honed further in the barrel.  )

          ❛   you know, he’ll probably start   pestering   you if you don’t start at least looking like you’re having a decent time.  the king, I mean.   ❜   jesper offers a friendly smile as he selects some unidentified little pastry cup and pops it into his mouth, gray eyes fixed on the bodyguard with interest.   ❛   this your first ravkan party or does the whole thing just still, you know,   freak you out   a little bit?  trust me, you’re not the only one.   ❜

@actssassin.  sc.