#oncecross

[witchwood-a]

GINA HAD BEEN NAUSEOUS ABOUT THIS EXPERIMENT ALL MORNING. she hadn't slept the night before, instead laying there staring at the man who she shared a bed with while he peacefully slept. he was handling this much better than her . . . or maybe he was better at hiding his nerves. this mission? it was dangerous. GOING INTO THE BLACK AND WHITE? it was an unknown territory that left whoever crossed that line vulnerable to whatever was waiting on the other side. the odds of him coming back? slim. the odds of him coming back unscathed? near impossible.

she had only braved a few sips of a black coffee before even that was too much for her stomach. she knew that wilbur was getting his final briefs. she had gnawed her nails to the quick before she saw the project director head out of the locker room that wilbur was getting ready in. she pushed herself up from her chair and paced quickly to the locker room where she pushed open the door and froze at the sight of him.

there, she stood in her fitted black t-shirt tucked into camo cargo pants. her hair had been straightened neatly that morning to where there wasn't a fly away to be seen. but this wasn't SPECIALIST MACNAMARA standing here, no. THIS WAS GINA, a scared girl in her early twenties about to send a man she loved into the abyss.

she swallowed hard at the sight of him in that suit, her throat tightening. her mind was screaming at her to beg him to not go. to stay here with her. FOR HER. but that was selfish. this was for the betterment of their society. this was the most damn selfless act he could do to serve.

she had stepped to him and without words forming, pulling him into a tight hug. her eyes had squeezed shut and a tear had slipped down her cheek. and the only words that did come out were three words she hadn't used before.

I LOVE YOU.

she had felt him shift slightly in their hug and she had pulled back just enough to get a look at him. at the smirk he wore, as if he were amused she was saying it. his lips had just parted before they heard steps outside the door. he had taken their last few seconds alone to press a kiss against her lips. a firm one that in that moment, she thought was enough of a response.

he had torn back just as the door opened, and the director's assistant told him they were ready. with his helmet in hand, she watched wilbur be taken away to the platform, where he disappeared behind the helmet. she watched from the observation bay as he stepped into the portal. there was a bright flash . . . and then nothing. the room was just as still as it had been before he entered.

the wait was excruciating. it was only an hour before they were planning to pull him back in, but time moved with a heaviness that made it impossible to breathe. what was he seeing? what was he experiencing? was it wonderful? was it horrific?

when the portal started to pulsate again, her attention snapped to it, and with its bright flash, she watched as he stepped back through it. there were murmurs across the room, but she drowned them out as her whole world sighed with relief. tears burned in her eyes as she burst out of the observation room behind her and sprinted for wilbur, throwing her arms around him and burying her head in his shoulder.

" y - you're okay! god, you're okay, " she whimpered as fingers curled desperately into the material of @oncecross' suit. " you made it back . . . "

[storiecraft]

oncecross sent: you aren't going anywhere . @ paul

paul stares at the denim-clad man, standing frozen like a deer staring into a pair of headlights. he isn't a fighter. for all of his bravado, he can tell within seconds of sizing this guy up that he's dangerous. he won't win in a fight. still, he refuses to go down without one. ❝ yeah? and you're going to stop me if i try? ❞

@oncecross / meme.

[witchdoctrines]

❛ i am no one. i am his servant. ❜

it feels less like dogmatism, and more like a slap in the face. this anonymity is unlike the one she spent so long crafting--- where before she was merely unremarkable, now she has in many ways she has been plucked like a stray hair. something taken only for the proximity and not for the want of the thing. the blood might still be wet on the grass, or maybe there isn't a memory left to bury much less a body. the lights are off, no one is home, but where the body fails the soul persists. it was not the god she prayed to, but the one who answered the call.

emilie does not know @oncecross, not by face. not by the denim jacket or the grease slick hair, but his very presence awakens something primal in her. the emaciated animal burrowed in her heart tries to bare its teeth--- to show that she is not easy prey to the likes of him. to his self proclaimed nothingness. she has her own nothingness to tend to, her own death to mourn.

❛ ...no one ? ❜ the question scrapes inside her throat, coming out in a rasp and lacking any confidence she had tried to instill. brain activity can occur for up to five minutes after the heart stops, some theorize it can feel like a lifetime. it doesn't feel as comforting as she wants it to be, maybe because this feels too unreal to be imagined and the gnawing horror of the situation too real. ❛ have you forgotten who you are ? or is it just that inconsequential here ? ❜

[witchwood-a]

GINA HADN'T EXPECTED NOR BEEN INITIALLY WANTING TO GET ATTACHED AGAIN. she had felt this way once before, and she had eventually learned that it had all been some sort of game. that wilbur wasn't going to be capable of the three words that fell from her lips before he went into the portal. all her life, she had seen the concept of love be used and abused. the only person who hadn't let her down had been her brother, but even he had to let her hand go to get out of the shit hole that had been their home, leaving her with three more years of hell before she climbed her way out of it.

tony malone had been a fly that wouldn't buzz away from her, but he had weaseled his way into her life and her heart in ways that she felt herself starting to finally breathe and heal. what they had? it was good. he made her laugh until she was in tears - true, genuine belly laughs. and between the sheets? he was more than satisfactory. he filled her with an excitement that was more than the numb routine she kept for herself. he got her out of her apartment and out of her work and showed her a healthy balance between it all. and just three nights earlier, she had been curled up to him in her bed and had dragged a line up his neck and jaw with her nose before she bravely whispered three words in his ear. this time, they were returned.

he had been staying with her almost exclusively these days rather than living out of his car, and it felt good to see him thrive on that front too. he had access to regular warm showers and she could tell that he was able to get better sleep, so his overall demeanor seemed to glow even brighter.

she had been texting him about their cozy night in planned after she got her phone from her locker at headquarters and was on her way out, looking forward to kicking off the weekend curled up with him and winding down for the night.

she was none the wiser to anything suspicious as she walked up to her third floor apartment - not until she tried her key in the door to find the knob turning too soon. it was unlocked. her brow furrowed as she stood there for a moment, debating if she should go for the pistol holstered underneath the utility jacket she had on. tony had forgotten to lock up now and again, but there was a sinking feeling of dread forming in her. something didn't feel right.

her instinct were proven right as she opened the door and saw @oncecross standing in the living room. tony was nowhere to be seen, and that only made her sense of dread intensify. maybe he had been called out. he was supposed to be home though.

" i told you to leave me alone last time we talked, " she insisted sternly with a set jaw. he had been here a week earlier, shell shocking her with his appearance. " why are you here? "

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 , accepting!

[hatchetbarbie]

plotting -> starter call, accepting...  ⭑.ᐟ             featuring;  @oncecross ♡

        there are days where she thinks she could’ve saved him. even split, slimey, and rotten, she thinks she could’ve. put some kind of bubble wrap around him or preserving resin to keep the apple whole, put together with no missing pieces for the black and white to take hold of. whatever empty parts inside him are now filled with wiggly, and miss holloway has nothing left for that.

        she knows exactly what she is to him, and him to her. wilbur cross is a nightmare that appears every time she closes her eyes, every brutal death he’s put her through flashing behind her eyelids. he is the once human disciple of the lord in black, and he is her enemy, rotten through and through. and she … she means nothing. a pesky bump in the road. but she’ll never stop, and neither will he. he has something of hers, and she’s in his way.

        “ i’m old enough to be your mother, you know that? ”  miss holloway can smell him before she sees him, the air growing slick, her magic quivering to hold her still. it takes a lot not to shiver, as the feeling comes crawling. the strange cold he carries is biting. it’s fear. isn’t it? no matter the center source, their powers were different, unmistakably.

        “ means i’m too old for this fooling around. ”  she grips her wills tighter, like a knife down in her hand, a weapon to be drawn.  “ get out, wilbur. ”