#yosufro

[thunderbringerarchived]

❛ STRIKE . [ slap / punch ] my muse in the face . ( brainwashed clara, thX ) loud and deafening silence 

the  last  thing  he  ever  anticipated  was  this  moment  .  clara  attacking  him  when  her  gun  jammed  .  fate  at  work  in  its  finest  hour  .  it  wasn’t  MEANT  for  her  to  kill  him  and  now  he  has  to  figure  out  a  way  to  HELP  HER.    this  was  his  mission  ,  to  save  her  .  the  whitetails  have  already  told  him  that  he  can’t  trust  her  but  the  soldier  doesn’t  give  up  so  easily  .  he  can’t,  especially  on  her  .  

his  gun  drops  to  the  ground  ,  anyone  else  and  they’d  be  dead  in  a  heartbeat  ,  but  the  tears  in  his  eyes  .  the  absolute  disdain  he  has  for  the  seeds  is  stronger  than  anything  .  they  can’t  have  her  .  they  can’t  KEEP  her  .  

clara  lashes  out  in  any  way  she  can  completely  convinced  that  THOR  is  the  enemy  .  luckily  ,  overpowering  her  doesn’t  take  much  effort  .  her  strength  seems  magnified  in  some  aspects  but  it  must  just  be  pure  adrenaline  and  he  whips  her  around  pulling  her  against  his  chest  ,  folding  her  arms  in  front  of  her  and  keeping  her  there  until  he  can  find  out  how  the  hell  to  get  her  back  to  the  outpost  ?    she  fights  and  kicks  and  scrambles  against  and  he’ll  find  a  way  to  make  them  all  pay  for  this  .      /  /    @yosufro​

[doomdays-a]

❝ no murderers here, if that’s what you’re asking. ❞  /  @yosufro​

lips press together into a fine line,  her head nodding slowly.  she trusts them  ---  as much as she can,  as it is,  at least,  but huck doesn’t feel like she has much to worry about.  she puts her trust in the people here because she needs them to trust her,  too.  ❝  wasn’t askin’,  ❞   she mumbles,  brow raised as she looks back to her,  shrugging her shoulders.  ❝  ain’t here to judge no one.  shit happens,  right?   ‘ murderer ‘ doesn’t seem to have the same meaning it did ten years ago.   some would say those people are just adapters when they gotta be   ---  or when they have to be.  ❞

[thunderbringerarchived]

❛ INDULGE . find my muse drinking to cope . ( far cry verse? 0_0 )   loud and deafening silence  / /  accepting 

its  a  long  road  to  get  what  was  lost  .  hope  county  is  a  far  cry  from  what  he  used  to  know  it  as  .  a  once  beautiful  place  filled  with  laughing  children  and  peaceful  demeanors  has  been  replaced  with  religious  zealots  thinking  that  they  are  far  above  the  law  .  that  GOD  has  somehow  given  them  the  right  to  pillage  and  take  and  kill  and  take  some  more  .  fuck  .

  the  worst  part  is  that  he’s  HEARD  the  sermons  ,  seen  the  message  and  if  it  weren’t  for  the  horrible  execution  of  those  words  then  thor  MIGHT  have  found  himself  a  place  within  it  .  there  are  still  moments  where  he  felt  drawn  to  them  ,  despite  all  the  fucking  crazy  .  thor  is  a  veteran  that  has  been  overlooked  time  and  time  again  .  the  government  he’d  sworn  himself  to  hasn’t  done  jack  shit  for  him  since  he  got  out  and  only  made  it  harder  to  get  the  care  that  he  so  rightfully  earned  .  he’s  watched  friend  die  and  the  world  kept  going  on  without  them  .  

maybe  that’s  why  he’s  found  himself  sitting  here  with  a  bottle  of  something  that  maybe  should  have  been  saved  to  make  a  molotov  .  fuck  it  .  his  nerves  need  it  far  more  and  besides  .  .  .  he’ll  find  more  .  he  always  does  in  the  crazy  ass  county  .  a  small  fire  burns  and  he’s  too  far  gone  to  be  of  any  use  tonight  .  damn  if  he  doesn’t  feel  pretty  damn  numb  right  now  .  all  of  it  too  confusing  and  fucked  up  to  handle  all  at  one  time  .  

her  presence  though  is  a  little  more  sobering  than  he’d  like  it  to  be  .    there’s  still  a  job  to  do  and  if  anyone  else  were  to  stumble  upon  him  then  thor  would  be  in  no  shape  to  defend  himself  .  ❝    i’d  save  it  if  i  were  you  .  don’t  need  any  lecturing  .  .  .    ❞  except  he  probably  does  and  if  he  wants  to  go  out  like  this  then  its  his  own  damn  problem  isn’t  it  ??  / /  @yosufro​

[nostlgic]

it hurts like a bitch, but you wouldn’t be able to tell by his expression. dull, almost emotionless entirely, he watches clara approach with one of felix’s old college tshirts ( it shouldn’t still fit, but his meals consist of whiskey and scotch, and so it would do for now ). wounded shoulder aches as he stands, the man exhaling when clara lifts the shirt to pull over greying hair. ‘the fact that you even have t’do this for me is pathetic,’ felix mumbles, first dressing his healthy arm before allowing clara to help with the bandaged one. embarrassed does not begin to cover how he felt, having to be helped with something as simple as getting dressed.  and as much as she might want to appreciate clara’s help, all felix can be is bitter when the tshirt is finally lowered over his torso. he shakes his head — he can’t look at clara. ‘thanks,’

👕 : clara helps felix get dressed after felix sustains an injury or illness.     @yosufro​.

[finleysgone]

finley & clara   ;   @yosufro.

[shinegone]

subject  line :  ❛ do  you  want  company ? ❜ from : @yosufro​

      maybe  it’s  expected  these  days,  to  seek  isolation  --  danny  himself,  he’s  done  PLENTY  of  that.  but  there  comes  a  certain  point  where  the  raging  monotony  of  . . .  YOURSELF  starts  to  drive  you  a  little  wacky.  not  to  mention,  it’s  probably  a  good  thing  he  starts  trying  to  make  some  BETTER  friends.  he  gestures  to  the  empty  space,  a  wry  smile  on  his  face,  and  a  dry  humor  leaves  his  lips,  “ hm.  last  resort ? ”

[at-hauntrcss]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘... / @yosufro​ sent:  [ comfort ] for one muse to stay the night with the other after a hard day

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑. friendship has been few and far between for helena — not that the other could be claimed as a friend. not that she deserved to be called the same. the term used didn’t matter, not when it came down to the fact that she feels a strange urge to protect when it comes to clara mendez. 

gotham is not the safest city, and those who were born and bred here know as much. yet the paramedic had decided to stay, to attempt to shine light into the shadowed crevices on the streets. she doesn’t know, of course, the woman’s initial motivation...she doesn’t need to know. everyone has an origin story,  but not all are able to be heard. helena wishes her own past could be hushed, that the whispers of her own origin story would cease to exist. “do you need...anything?” guests are rare in the penthouse apartment, entirely owned by the last bertinelli — the sole reasoning being easy access for her nightly activities. huntress can come and go as much as she likes, without so much as a batted eyelash from nosy neighbors. more importantly, safe from the dangers that lurk. for clara, at least...if only for the simply fact that helena was there to be sure of it. “coffee?...something to eat?”

[moralcoded]

[ bandage ] sender helps bandage up receiver’s wounds

[  ORIGIN :  PATCH SHAR UP.  /   CONTACT :  @yosufro​. ]

    an expectant clearing of the throat tears the spy's gaze from the tv,  if only by reflex –––  and though she’s found herself in the fiery gaze of the medic,  it's a very bold dare to simply wave a hand in her general direction.    “  i’m fine ––––  really.  ”

   (   ... and it’s almost a little amusing to watch her pit it against clara’s shark-like stare.   )

  sharon eventually unfolds herself from the corner of the couch and moves to the kitchen counter.    she wants to voice her brimming reluctance...    loudly.    accepting help,  even from a trusted ally,  feels...  wrong,  perhaps even somewhat shameful  ––––  and now that they’re under brighter, fluorescent lighting,  the uneven stitching protrudes even more than she’d like to admit.    she can already hear the string of curses clara’s pulling together mentally at the sight:    the slightly uneven pattern of criss-crossing handiwork narrates an exhausted,  post-op attempt at self-recovery aided with the half-emptied bottle of bourbon and strips of bloodied gauze merely across the room by the sink.

   finally,  she surrenders a heavy sigh,  rotating her shoulder a couple of times in test after a fresh gauze is placed over.    “  ...  thank you.  ”