The coffee goes down smooth, the column of her throat tensing in a way that makes Frank’s stomach jump.
His fingers twitch at her almost inaudible hum of satisfaction, for the first time in so long aching to feel something other than the cool metal of a trigger.
He withdraws his gaze, looking down at the paper on the table between them, clearing his throat to say, “This is it? An address and the combination to a safe that’s probably empty? It’d be quicker if i just put two in the back of his head.”
She shakes her head, and there it is again, that fucking distraction that comes with her hair brushing against the cream of her skin, words quickly tumbling out into the quiet, “I need those contracts to prove he’s been laundering money for crooked politicians… then you can do whatever the hell you want.”
It almost sounds cold, words clipped, even a little vindictive, but Frank can see the way her finger twitches against her mug, the searching look in her eyes - he wishes he could stop seeing - so he just nods, picking up the paper and tucking it under his jacket.
”RUN!” He screams at her from the entrance to the building, bullets whizzing by his head as he turns back to face the people chasing them.
It’s hard for her to leave him, but she knows he’s more than capable of handling himself, and the contents of the safe clutched to her chest need to make it out of the burning building or this whole escapade of theirs was for nothing.
Hours later, she pulls up to their meeting spot, limping, cold fingers clinging to a delicately carved wooden box, it’s brass latches frosty in the night air.
With each passing minute, a little sliver of hope is shaved away, and tension begins to collect in her shoulders, You shouldn’t have left, ringing in her ears.
But then there are lights cutting through the woods, footsteps crunching through the dry leaves, and before Frank even steps into the clearing, she’s running, box flying to the ground.
She stares down at the box in open astonishment, fingers shaking with anger as she reaches down to pick up the etched glass bottle, tracing the the lettering she hisses, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Frank only shrugs in response, turning away from her to retrieve two glasses from his cabinet.
He pours them both a healthy portion of the amber liquid and pushes one tumbler toward Karen, his eyes scanning her face, watching the rage shimmer just beneath the surface, “Must’ve known you were onto him. Ten to nothing all physical evidence of the corruption is gone.”
She snatches up the glass and gulps down the burning liquid, uncorking the bottle the pour the glass full again, and snarls at no one in particular, “Why does this have to be so fucking hard?”
One corner of Frank’s mouth twitches up, his eyes catching the light of the moon as it passes through the window. “If it were easy, the cops would have done it a long time ago.”
Five hundred dollar bottle of rum empty, Karen moves from her seat in Frank’s makeshift kitchen, feeling wobbly and more than a little done with the world.
She barely notices the throbbing pain in her knee, wincing only slightly as she moves toward the cot in the corner, but Frank is too perceptive, jumping up to stop her. “Let me see.”
It’s a bruise, black and ugly in the middle, varying purple hues toward the edge, and she knows it’ll hurt like hell in the morning, but all she can think about right now is the way his palm cradles the back of her calf, his fingers tracing along the skin to see if it’s more than just a bruise.
He’s on his knees in front of her, probing the injury, and the alcohol makes her bold, light-headed as she reaches out to thread her fingers through his hair, the unruly curls that he’s let it grow into.
It’s a nurturing move, a desire to comfort that she has been long tasked with suppressing, and she waits for him to snatch his fingers away, to stomp over to the other side of the cabin, to slam the door and leave her alone in the dark.
Frank would never admit it to a soul, but he’s touch starved, and Karen’s fingers against his scalp, pushing his hair back away from his face, feel like fire against his skin.
He’s not like he used to be, not present one-hundred percent of the time, and his mind can sometimes play tricks on him, can wander away into impossible realms, so he doesn’t trust the scene before him: a beautiful woman with bedroom eyes and soft hands.
“Frank,” she says, his name so soft in the air between them that he’s not quite sure it’s real, and the rum doesn’t help either, making him feel warm underneath his rib cage, almost as if his heart has started to beat again.
But her touch, it’s like an anchor holding him to earth, and he knows it’s real, not fair, but real.
All of her distractions are bundled up into one neat package before him, her soft lips, the flush of her skin, the pulse jumping at her neck that is begging for the pad of his thumb, it’s all here, and for the first time in a long time he thinks he can afford to be distracted.
As promised here is a basic tesseract tutorial :) (kimono tutorial still in the works)
What you will need:
3.5 inch photo cube ($4 micheals)
1 bottle Frost etch effect paint ($5 somthing i think but i get a lot of use out of one bottle I used martha stewert brand)
1 bottle Stained glass paint color aqua ($2.99 I used gallery glass brand)
Plastic wrap $1
Napkin or paper towel
1 Floral light (I got a pack of 8 for $16 at joanns, used a cupon, mine have seperate rainbow colors, have mixed color settings, and a cycle mode that moves through all the colors for raver ‘party cube’ mode :) I personally use the setting that has green and blue mixed I find it works best with the paint color. You can find and use plain blue floral lights as well)
Flicker candles *optional* (I use 2 flicker candles one blue and one yellow to add movment to the light inside for a more etherial look, the floral light is pretty powerful and drowns out the yellow coloring. The floral light is more than enough to light up the cube if you do not want to mess with the candles)
*to make it ‘float’ you need*
2 ID badge zip line clips (sorry don’t know the technical term for these) you can buy them at an office supply store, my fancy ones were $6.99 each, or you can get simple ones online for about $3 each)
2 armbands of some kind (I used cuffs from another cosplay)
Paint the inside of the cube with the glass paint. This step takes the longest cuz you have to do one side at a time (luckily there are two halves so you can paint them simultaneously) feel free to make swirls in the paint as you go, just make sure its all covered.
Use needel to pop the air bubbles in your glass paint before it dries, this with keep everything nice and smooth. Use the napkin to wipe off the tip of the needel of paint build up.
Once cube is compleatly dry paint the inside of the cube with the frost paint (yes OVER the glass paint, it’ll look awesome trust me) this step goes pretty fast cuz you can paint the whole cube at once and this paint dries faster
Once cube is dry make a little nest of plastic wrap in one half of the cube, put in light, cover with more plastic wrap, close cube
If you do use the flicker candles I do a layer of plastic wrap over the floral light place the candles THEN a layer of plastic wrap. This keeps the candles from being pressed against the sides and their shadows from being really obvious
*to make it ‘float’*
On one half of the cube drill super tiny holes in the center of opposite sides. I did this by hand with a pointy ‘bead reamer’ file, I would recomend a dremel if you have one.
Clip the ends off the ‘badge holder’ CAREFULLY make sure you have a good hold on that line cuz if it zips back up into the casing, well it is possible to retreive it but its more trouble than its worth o_O
Then feed the end of the line through the hole in the cube and tie it off on the inside
Repeate for other side
Clip badge ID holder to armbands,as far as I know all these badge holders come with a clip of some sort
To wear, I place my cuffs about halfway up my forarms to hide them under my long sleeves and run the lines down the backs of my hands so the cube floats between my palms,
I have yet to find badge IDs with clear lines. If and when I figure out how to replace the existing line with a clear fishing line I will let you know. If you want to try on your own, best of luck :)
And thats it! I hope this was clear enough. Sorry for lack of step by step photos got a little swamped with work, but if you have any questions please ask, I will clarify as best I can.
Castiel imagine requested by anon! This imagine has been edited for reposting, just to add details where I felt my beginner’s writing was particularly scarce. Hope you like it!
You were lead into a poorly-lit room containing a doctor’s examination table, a smaller metal table stocked with every torture tool you could fathom by it’s side, two demons gripping your arms tight enough to crush your bones, their iron hod unshakable. Your damp hair clung to your face, sweat an inconvenient adhesive, as you were thrown onto the happy teal cushions, leather straps securing you belly-up before you could think to struggle, your muscles pressed flush against the squeaking, sterile mattress. A naked light bulb swung overhead on an oily chain, displaying the ceiling to be caked with grime and mildew with each swing, the unsheathed bulb burning a course of fire into your mind. The walls were covered in a thin film of frost, vents on the floor expelling icy mist into the room with a low hiss. This chamber had been a freezer, you imagined, in the meat factory where you were being held hostage. Tearing your eyes from the grisly decor, you redirected your gaze to scan your captors looking to pinpoint weaknesses, finding none. The two possessed businessmen reminded you of the Agents in the Matrix, only a whole Hell of a lot more terrifying, a feat in itself. They didn’t speak, didn’t smile, and their black eyes shone like polished obsidian, beams of yellow lights reflecting as the bulb traveled on it’s cord, sparse illumination washing over their spotless clothing, their smooth skin, their unfeeling gazes thrown into shadow as the light shifted above you. Your ankles were bound to the end of the table with an exaggerated tug, your body squealing against the plastic covering of the table as you writhed, a demon waltzing over to your head as you moved. Within seconds, your mouth was gagged by a gritty piece of stained cloth, the fibers biting into the corners of your mouth, heat pulsing where your blood was escaping from the shallow wounds, deft fingers knotting the rag behind your head before deserting you, moving to stand by his companion. The demons rose to face you, their expensive black suits creasing and crinkling in the cold, fibers chilled by the frigid air being pumped in through the floor. In just a tank top and torn jeans, you were beginning to shiver, your laboured breath a split stream of smoke winding around the obstruction restraining your words.
“Sit tight, baby girl, we’ll be right back.” the taller man said, his warm olive skin folding around a sinister smile, his palm brushing over your exposed shoulder in a sickening rendition of a comforting pat. You craned your neck to watch the men walk towards a double vault door overlooking a side-view of your table. They yanked the handles, heavy metal hinges squealing as they pulled the doors open, revealing a man strung up within a cupboard-turned-cage, arms and legs tied to the four corners of the impromptu cell, his head hanging to his chest in exhausted defeat. He raised his head, his movement disturbing many a rusted meat hook hanging by his skull, his face stopping your heart. Your eyes widened in fear, mirroring each other. You recognized the man, down to the mussed obsidian hair, sapphire eyes struck through with horror.
You attempted to shout to him, your voice a panicked wavelength, the name muffled by the rag slurring the movement of your tongue. He was suspended by his wrists in a mock crucifix, toes just barely grazing the floor of his cage, eyes furious as he took in your state, adhered to a table as you were. The demons’ intentions were obvious.
“YOU LET HER GO!” he screamed, his eyes blazing with rage, his hands balling into fists as he struggled against the spell-work chains. The demons smiled, lazily dragging a finger along the squares of metal caging that held him in. You caught a glimpse of the sigils on the gleaming chains that bound his wrists, the markings etched into the metal bottling his angelic mojo, rendering him as helpless as you were. He was completely powerless. The second demon lifted a latch, opening the angel’s cage, tying a cord around your boyfriend’s neck from behind, adhering his head to the back of the cage. With a swat at the meathooks and a shit-eating grin, the demons securing the cage once more. The cord was slack, leaden metal strings not meaning to suffocate… the hold was just enough to keep his head up. Castiel turned his head to the demon, eyes pleading. “Please, let her go. I’ll tell you everything. Do not hurt her.“
The demons ignored his calls, the angel repeating himself with louder volume and increasing hysteria as they advanced towards you, your pulse racing in your ears faster than water through a broken dam. The first demon lazed over to the tray of instruments perched on a smaller table beside yours, selecting a long, serrated carving knife, the second monstrosity plucking a spool of barbed wire from among the selection. You struggled against your bindings to no prevail, panic gripping your body, the first demon smiling devilishly before dragging his blade down your arm, blood droplets poking through the thin slice, their warmth pooling along your split skin. You screamed, the pain shocking, teeth clenching against the cloth in your mouth. The second demon giggled, unwinding the barbed wire, wrapping it around your bare feet, causing you to go still, spikes prodding your every move, prickling along your feet. You could no longer feel the cold in the air, your body so focused on heat and fear. You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe in a way that would cause a shift in your body. “NO! Stop!” Castiel screamed, his voice painted with pain. The first demon removed your gag with a cautious slice of his bloodied blade, a slimy whisper in your ear informing you that this move was to ensure that your little boyfriend heard you scream.
“I’m okay, Cas, don’t worry.” you assured, your breathing shallow, heart ramming against your ribcage. The knife suddenly jabbed into your hip, raising a flayed flap of skin from your body. You screamed, your voice cracking like an inferno, tears falling from your eyes. Against your will, you clenched your body, the barbs slashing into the soles of your feet, your ankles, a raging heat enveloping your person. You cried out, forcing yourself to be still, tears running over the planes of your cheekbones, your fingers trembling from the holsters around your hands.
“Stop! Please, stop this!” Castiel cried from his cage, chains rattling as he fought the constraints. His efforts, unfortunately, did nothing to free you from the onslaught of torture. The knife carved into your stomach, never deep enough to puncture your organs, but deep enough to make your blood flow like a clogged faucet. You screamed, biting down on your lip to try to spare Castiel, whose face he could not turn, forced to watch your body take a beating. He pleaded over the throbbing in your head, the demon trailing the chilling metal of his blade over your ribs, delicately ghosting over each bone before lifting the knife from your body, saltwater rushing down your face.
“We’re just warming up, we wouldn’t think of stopping,” the demons chuckled, your feet stinging from the wires, toes twitching against the prickling shards of sharpened metal. Castiel screamed in rage, frightening you, his wordless cry eliciting more laughter from the monsters above you. The knife poked into your thigh, twisting in the shallow wound. You shrieked, a stream of tears cooling on your face as your breath polluted the filthy air.
“She’s innocent. She can’t tell you anything!” he hollered. You turned your face to his, sobbing as the assaults continued. He locked eyes on yours, hopeless, desperate. You squeezed your eyes shut when the door burst open behind you, anticipating more members of the demonic gang to show up and select their weapons. Castiel raised his face, relief ironing over the fearful wrinkles on his forehead. Gunfire, two shots, rang out behind you, a crumpling to your left, and a body fell across your stomach, cloth fibers stinging against our freshly inflicted wounds. Your breath rushed out in a puff of cloudy mist, the second demon fizzling on top of you, his skin smoking around a bullet hole in his forehead. A hand was working at your ankle bindings, metal gliding harmlessly across your feet as the wire was cut away. Dean’s face popped up beside you, stern and hurried, untying your wrists before wrapping his arms around you, lifting you to a seated position, you weak body resting against his, blood redirecting it’s course in your new alignment, the nauseating warmth changing course with the new shift in gravity. Dean tucked the Colt into his jeans, checking you all over to assess the severity of your wounds, smoothing your hair away from your face as he scanned your multiple injuries. Sam stood by your feet, barbed wire cutting into his hands while he freed you. his face scrunching in bearable pain every few seconds, your drooping eyes catching his as he threw the wire to the side. Your eyes flickered to the side as Sam ran to Castiel’s cage, the eldest Winchester flashing a beam of light into your eyes, checking your pupils to the sound of creaking metal and falling chains. Dean was shoved away, your body limply falling backwards into the waiting arms of your angel, his fingers laying against your forehead. In a second, your pain was erased. Your eyes fluttered open fully, absorbing the joyful relief plastered over Castiel’s features, the dull healing light fading from your skin, the soft fabric of his trench coat caressing your bare arms.
He lowered his lips to yours, radiance filling the expanse of darkness behind your closed eyelids, sparks flying from your toes to your fingertips. Your lips moved with his in a patient dance, solace tainting his movements, his hand on your cheek servicing to tilt your face to his. There was almost an urgency to his slow gesture, as if he knew you had all the time in the world but couldn’t help but fear that someone may rip you from his arms at any second. He tasted like pain, like relief. His soft skin pressed against yours, and you felt safe. Your body was still shell-shocked and frozen when he pulled away, lifting you into his arms to carry you out of the freezer turned interrogation chamber, Sam and Dean clearing their throats awkwardly behind you as they followed.
“Y/n, I am so sorry.” he whispered, your head lolling into his chest, the warmth of his body easing your stiffened nerves, a few stray tears falling to the cotton of his shirt. You closed your eyes, visions of the torture flashing across the blank screen. If you had been able to speak or shake your head, you would have. Your body, though healed, was still exhausted from the interrogation. There was no way, as of present, to let him know that you didn’t hold him responsible for your torment. His guilt flavoured the warm rush of outside air as you were carried to Dean’s Impala, silence bursting around you, your angel’s arms shielding you from further harm.
Author: limitlessmonster Title: See Through Me Pairing: AoKise Genre: Hurt/Comfort Chapter Word Count: Approx. 3400 Total Word Count: Approx. 3400 Summary: Sometimes having it all can destroy everything. But when it’s least expected, a light breaks through Kise’s darkness and maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late to save himself. Chapter Summary: Kise is at the top of the world and the only way left to go is down. A/N: Trigger warning: attempted suicide. Inspired by the film Beyond the Lights and partly by Fly Before You Fall by Cynthia Erivo. I’ve been on an angst kick and my fingers slipped. Whoops.…. .. /)//////(\
“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”
-Laurell K. Hamilton
Silence is a reprieve.
As the SUV pulls up in front of the Dolby Theater, Kise Ryouta stares out the window at the crowd gathered outside, their screams and flashing lights muted through the tinted glass and soundproofed interior. He is used to the attention, used to the fanatical cat calls, the aggressive displays; he sees it, hears it, and knows he should be elated, that this is all he’s ever wanted growing up.