#brutlist001.

[wthwolvesarchive]

@brutlist​ liked x. 

         she watches them run around with some amusement;  as the second youngest of seven,  she did not grow up raising those behind her as her older siblings did.  she liked kids;  they were cute,  innocent,  unassuming for the most part.  but when one comes up to her with chubby hands,  grabbing at the air,  she doesn’t know what to do with herself.  

          “  should i  --  hold them?  “  

[illwriteatragedy]

@brutlist​ liked x. 

          “  --  if i needed help with something,  “  he begins,  “  would you be willing?  “ 

[wthwolvesarc]

@brutlist​ liked x. 

          there is a history in his eyes,  something broken,  something worn and drawn.  roman and josephine come around him and his children,  but shilah has yet to really engage the man in any kind of conversation.  there is kindness in the way he moves his hands,  but shilah can tell from there,  too,  the quick turn to deadly they possessed. 

          “  they should be back soon.  “  this house was as much his as it was theirs.  shilah decides to open the wine.  “  want a drink?  “ 

[wthwolvesar]

@brutlist​. 

          “  these are good.  “  there’s temptation to take more,  finish off the plate,  but he has his manners  --  maybe,  if stevie were here,  he would feel more of an inclination to race against the other man.  but it was just the two of them,  the low sound of the tv,  the comfortability of childhood playmates into adulthood.  “  did you make them?  “

[withbeasts]

@brutlist liked x;

" you know -- " he does not look like himself. the hands that hold the coffee mug tremble, just slight, as they grasp at the heat to calm nerves. " -- she's been gone for four weeks now. "

[illwriteatragedy]

@brutlist​. 

          “  --  the kids are out back with jo;  we didn’t expect you so early.  “ 

[withbeastsarc]

@brutlist​. 

           “  jacob.  “  he cradles one of the kids against him,  using his mutation to reach out with soothing,  comfortable,  emotions to help him from fussing.  it’s not a few seconds later and eyelids are already drooping,  a fist curled around his sweater.  elliot smiles fondly at his sleeping,  chubby face.  “  --  if you start to feel tired,  it’s my fault.  “  

[pathokinesis]

@brutlist​ liked x. 

          there is always drawback to finding yourself in someone’s memory.  it was a wonder how the professor could see into every thought,  the stream of constant emotion,  when he was exhausted only from experiencing the harsh memories of the past.  elliot takes a step backwards from the other man,  his hands held up in a defense.  

           “  --  that was not intentional.  “  he promises,  knowing that his accidental reach to simply get the mood of the room turned invasive has been sensed.  “  i apologize.  “