#fearfeeling

[statesangriaold]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂,  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐘  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐒  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐎𝐔𝐓.    she's  been  avoiding  the  old  guard  for  almost  200  years,    and  all  of  a  sudden,    the    new  guy    wants  nothing  to  do  with  her.    maybe  it's  just    karma.    and  though  she  didn't    want    to  at  first---    she  had  to  find  him.    he  was  so  close,    it  couldn't  be  a  coincidence---    and  why  else  would  the  dreams  keep  happening?    why  else  won't  they  stop?

it's  just...    too  much  coincidence    for  her  liking.    at  this  point,    it  has  to  be  a  sign,    and  so  she's  not  about  to  give  up  so  easily.    ❝  hey---    HEY!  ❞    she  jogs  to  keep  up  with  the  new  immortal,    reaching  out  to  snatch  his  arm.    and  if  he  thinks  she's  about  to  stop  anytime  soon?    he's  dead  wrong.    ❝  listen,    you  do    NOT    get  to  walk  away  from  me---    i've  been  seein'  your  stupid  face  for    six  fuckin'  days.    this  isn't  some---    this  isn't  just...    i  was    supposed    to  find  you,    okay?    and  no  matter  how  hard  you  try,    you  can't  just    pretend    that  none  of  this  is  real!  ❞

@fearfeeling​ gets an old guard starter <3

[ironicarus-aaaa]

@fearfeeling​

MARRIAGE,     SETTLING  DOWN,     HAVING  CHILDREN-     all  things  he  would’ve  never  dreamt  himself  to  have,     nor  even  want,     a  mere  few  years  ago.     now,     however,     all  of  those  mundane  antics  circle  around  the  forefront  of  his  mind  each  and  every  day.     he  wants  them.     like  an  ache  deep  down  that  can  only  be  staunched  by  connor  being  at  his  side  for  the  rest  of  his  days.     engagement  is  a  step  in  the  right  direction.     the  ring  on  his  finger  feels  foreign,     but  in  a  good  way.     there’s  a  lightness  in  his  steps.     a  genuine  happiness  he  can’t  recall  ever  having  felt.     life  feels  somewhat  steady,     at  the  moment.

he’s  babbling,     words  cutting  more  words  off  in  a  manner  that  only  he  would  be  able  to  do.     hands  wave  with  the  movements  of  his  mouth,     telling  a  story  more  with  his  appendages  than  anything  else.     topic  is  one  that’s  hard  to  broach.     he  likes  to  think  that  he  knows  connor  fairly  well,     but  they’ve  never  gotten  around  to  talking  about  KIDS,     and  tony  is  mildly  worried  over  how  he’ll  react  to  his  admission  to  wanting  them.     ❝     --     so,     yeah,     that’s  why  i  just  think-     well  i  think-     ❞     he  stops  himself.     if  he  says  “i  think”  one  more  time,     he’s  going  to  get  annoyed  at  himself.     ❝     --     what’s  your  thoughts  on  kids?     and  more  importantly,     what’s  your  thoughts  on  you  and  i  having  kids?     ❞

[wartorne]

plotted starter for @fearfeeling​

          it’s a job like any other,  money for a life.  this particular employer has sent him to new york city,  just another location with the propensity to cause a huge,  chaotic mess.  there’s a limited number of ways he can pull this off quietly;  long range would be most efficient,  but that depends on the subject’s habits.   but execution isn’t his main concern at the moment,  identifying his subject is the problem.   he’s a ghost,  even rake hasn’t heard of the accident man,  though his work rarely takes him stateside.   he’s about to become an expert,  though.

     it takes him two and a half months of grilling underground informants to close in on the accident man,  identity still eluding him.   rake can guess he’s ex-military,  special forces,  and he wonders if they’ve crossed paths.   whoever it is,  he won’t be the first former soldier he’s come up against,  and he won’t be the last.   tyler briefly wonders how he located the man’s home before learning his identity, but that just makes it an easier job to complete with no name and no face.

     he waits until midnight,  better cover and less civilians out and about.   the adrenaline thrumming through his veins steadies his nerves,  and he takes one last deep breath.   his foot connects solidly with the apartment door,  the action followed by the quiet roll of a flashbang.   its use is precautionary, fully aware the sound of a door kicked in is going to immediately jumpstart his target’s defensive mode,  but he’s hoping it’ll still bring him a slight advantage.

     it only guarantees he lands the first hit, making out his target’s silhouette moments before his own form comes into the other’s sightline. he was right about being ex-special forces, american military judging by the fighting style. they trade blows like it’s a choreographed dance, with clear indication neither is going to gain the upper hand unless they throw in a monkey wrench.   rake switches tactics, catches the other in a grapple that ends with a heavy thud of his target’s back against the ground.  rake delivers an elbow to his gut for extra measure, rolling back while unholstering his gun.  he has to make it a kill shot,  any extra discharge would attract more attention than their altercation already has. but by the time he’s steady enough to execute that perfect shot,  he’s staring down the barrel of a nine millimeter,  behind which a familiar face comes into focus.

          “  fuck.   mercer ?  ”

[reactorhearted]

‹  @fearfeeling​.  cont.  ›

tony’s harsh words cover up his concern ;  after all, being seen CARING is a dangerous game.  lips pursed, he takes a short step forward, gaze focused on connor’s bloody knuckles before it darts up to the man’s face.  dark circles are prominent under his eyes, heavy with exhaustion, and it’s an expression that’s all too familiar to tony.

of course there are things tony doesn’t know about him.  they’re hardly acquaintances, much less FRIENDS — it’s not like tony is the kind of person connor would talk to.  it’s not far from the truth to assume that he could find out whatever he wanted, if he wanted, but can he be blamed for preferring the genuine method?  

tony sighs, cocking his head and letting his lips quirk ever so slightly as he meets connor’s eyes.  ❛  you sure?  ❜  he doesn’t expect a genuine response.  why would he be given one?

[thawedpatriot]

➰➰➰➰➰➰ this means you have to reveal six muses—

For every ➰ I get, I’ll reveal a muse that I played in the past

easy peasy!

the first canon muse i ever had, after years of only writing marvel based ocs, was an original trilogy based h.an s.olo!! i had him for a couple years until shit went down in the rpc and i have not dared step foot in that area ever again bc of yikes reasons.

i had a movie and musical based dmitry from anastasia for a while!

there was the loml prince naveen who i also had for a year or so, and met a lot of wonderful people through! he still owns my whole heart!

since i’m absolutely titanic trash, i had a jack dawson on and off for a bit, because i have a thing for snarky Artist Muses i guess

i actually wrote janet van dyne for a hot second, in between a couple of ocs!! bc the Original Wasp deserves the entire world okay, mcu did her dirty and i’ll forever be bitter!!

and i had a luke castellan blog too, which still exists but??? i haven’t done anything there in a long, long while.

[eiightisgreat]

“Subtle doesn’t usually get me what I want,” Connor said simply, eyebrow quirking as he shifted to look at the other male, it taking everything within him not to full on smirk. “What’s the point of beating around the bush when you can just... Get to the point? You either get rejected, or you get an orgasm. I can handle either of those outcomes.” Alright - that was a lie. He wasn’t good with being told no, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud, not if he wanted to save his dignity. “I find it’s always best to tell someone when you think they’re attractive.” And - okay, maybe he wasn’t good with relationships in general, whether they were romantic or platonic. Either way, he didn’t like letting people get close... And he had to destroy it before any feelings started to appear. Sex was good at distractions.

@fearfeeling ; cont.

[bornsoldier-arc]

@fearfeeling ♡ ‘d for a li’l starter !!

                 “ YOU are supposed to be in recovery. or did we just conveniently forget the part where you tossed yourself down three stories? ”

[wartorne]

plotted starter for @fearfeeling

          world  is  hazy.   tyler  wonders  if  he’s  dead,  for  the  way  he  feels  like  he’s  drifting  through  space  and  time,  for  the  way  he  can  see  sasha  so  clearly  as  he  scampers  through  the  water,  a  giant  grin  on  his  small  face.   he  can’t  speak,  can’t  breathe.   not properly  anyway,  like  there’s  a  whole  in  his  chest.   like  something  ripped  through  his  neck.   a  kind  of  numbness  settles  in  his  bones,  a  chill  that  almost  beckons  him.   memories  echo  in  and  fade  out,  the  sound  of  silence  and  the  sound  of  something  muted  as  if  by  water.   a  groan  rumbles  in  his  chest,  weak  and  strained.   wheezy.

     something  looms  in  his  field  of  vision,  something  he  can  barely  make  out  as  human.   a  name  tumbles  from  his  lips,  barely  audible,  but  repeatedly  enough  to  catch  attention.   he can hear,  barely,  a  familiar  voice  but  it’s  not  the  one  he  thought  he  would  hear.   yet,  his  brain  fixates,  same  name  still  slurring  into  the  air.

                    he keeps saying your name,  don’t ask me why.                     can’t get anything else out of him.

     when  his  eyes  open  this  time,  he’s  hit  with  searing  pain.   burning,  eating  into  his  skin.   he  squirms,  like  he’s  trying  to  rid  himself  a  bugs,  but  when  he  moves,  the  pain  changes.  tears  open  into  his  chest,  rips  apart  in  his  throat.   the  darkness  hits  moments  later,  slipping  him  into  nothingness.

     this  time ,  he’s  shivering ,  but  the  pain  is  less.   still  there ,  insistent  on  making  its  presence  known,  but  it’s  nothing  tyler  hasn’t  handled  before.   the  fever  is  something  he  can’t  control,  still  delirious,  but  aware  enough  to  recognize  an  extra  body  in  the  room. 

          “  c --  connor ?  ”