And She's A Hardcore / Candy-store / Give-me-some-moregirl ; Reevah - Tumblr Posts

(   cam   )

 He flinched momentarily at her touch, even though he knew it was coming, even though he wanted it, relaxing slowly in her presence. She gently- oh so gently- examined the wounds that were most visible before taking his hands in hers, and he squeezed his fingers around hers tightly. They weren’t shaking anymore. It had been difficult to even operate his phone when he first staggered back to his flat.

   “I know. I know.” He replied in a hushed voice, as though he was the one seeking to comfort her. It was an automatic response. He’d always been the comforter, not the comforted. “I…it’s not…thank you. For coming over. Thank you.”

 Camniel could feel barriers going up within himself, recognised the formal way in which he spoke to her, as if she’d just popped round for a coffee so they could discuss something. It felt…wrong. Worse than what he’d been through. But he knew there was worse to come if he didn’t do what he had to do. Do what he’d had to do before.

 God, why? Why? Why this again!? Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he been loyal and focused and so confident in his guidance? He felt as though he was stood on the edge of a dizzying precipice, one which had always been lurking in the corner of his vision and which he’d managed to ignore for decades, to pretend wasn’t there-

 He knew what he should say. What he had to say, to protect her. But words were still too much. 

 Instead he fell forward, resting his head against her shoulder to hide his face while the emotions crossing it were out of his control.

how much do you know someone, and—how long does it take you to realize such a thing? how many times do you go touching a hand, playfully pushing a shoulder—learning what is casual, permitted, enjoying it, savouring it; until the first exception ( just that first flinch from his part ) a hard line next to his brow shows you—abruptly, that your heart can stop from fear for such a thing. tiny—a sting. a thread compared to anything but a thread that she can’t ignore, not now. it’s paralyzing—to think, for a moment at least, that what used to be so casually theirs ( theirs—theirs? can there be such a thing? ) could cause him now something that wasn’t there before ( fear, uncertainty, discomfort, what else ) even when he relaxes—and he does! he does, much to her own peace of mind. he squeezes her hand and she feels herself smiling a little more. at last, she thinks. at last, god, she needed that. 

“ it’s nothing. ” she insists. “ absolutely nothing. was just around the corner, you know? grabbing a thing down the street. ” a lie, yes, and the easiest one to catch telling from her wild hair and the way she looked after running for god knows how long. but she wants him to laugh. she needs him to smile, to ease, anything. just for a moment. to free her from that mortifying sensation that something has happened, something has changed, and suddenly—even to lean in, kiss his hands or caress his cheek would be too terrible to consider. he looks that strict now, doesn’t he? as formal as he hasn't been in such a long time. since those first days…

and for a second, she tenses.

she holds her breath. she wonders. 

and then—then he leans in. sweetly dissipating all of his concerns, without knowing it, perhaps. she embraces him as if she has done it a thousand times before and it is not ( in fact ) the very first time she does this kind of gesture for him. one hand softly cradling his head, fingers lost in his hair. an arm carefully resting on his back, then pressing it. hard, reassuringly. a doubt, ever so slightly, then a kiss in the side of his forehead so briefly, so fast. this is scary, and i’m with you in the shape of her mouth. silence, filling every space left between them now that the world is settling all around them. readjusting.

“ we have to get this sort out before you start resting, ‘kay? lots of work to do on those cuts and bruises before you can close your eyes, that for sure. do you— want me to go grab you something? tea? you are always taking that strange thing now that i think about it, don’t you? ” she whispered, her eyes placed on a distant point of the wall and her hand lazily playing with his hair. waiting. thinking.

What the fuck are you doing, Lisa?

Girl, Interrupted (1999)

(   cam   )

        * * *

 His eyes closed tightly as her fingers brushed through his hair, the simple comfort of that gesture rolling over him in waves. Camniel found some of his tension melting away, letting her take a little more of his weight. He was tired. He was exhausted, and not just from the beating he’d received.

 The mental strain was taking its toll on him now, of defending Heaven for so long, of giving up everything he’d ever loved for the sake of duty. God, of course, was not involved in this equation anymore. She’d removed Herself. It was the high ranking angels that enforced the rules these days, and they ruled with an iron fist.

 It took a moment for him to realise she was talking to him, too wrapped up in her touch. Such a long time since he’d experienced this, the closeness to another, and that tiny press of lips against his temple- he’d never felt so weak in all his thousands of years in existence.

 Camniel gave a quiet huff of laughter against her shoulder, loathe to move away from her so soon. He’d almost forgotten what he had to do, overcome by…temptation. A fist curled tightly, pressed against his own chest. His other hand reached for Reevah, gripping her arm as though she might melt away into thin air.

   “Coffee.” He managed, finally, his voice still strained. “A very strong, very black coffee. Please.”

 Despite the quiet request, he didn’t want to let her go to prepare it. He didn’t want to let her go at all.

        * * *

it’s a strange thing, this. she can’t help but ponder all about it as seconds pass and the world forgets about them, turns a blind eye whether merciful or accidental on the strangest miracle. a trespass, as we’ve been told, yet—worthy of so much observation as i’d dare to propose. now, before time betrays us and no room is left for pauses and explanations. for thoughts about who they are, and the way her hand runs along his head ( finger first, then the palm and her thumb drawing patterns where it lands; so certain, sometimes, so suddenly clueless at others. then changing ).

for the thing was—she came to realize ( in flashes she dared not retain for too long in her own mind ) that this body of hers, once created for love and protection, had long ago been used and trained and destined to many a thing different to the motions of quiet intimacy. devoid of the slightest chance, laughed at even when a lover hinted such preferences. no, hers was a nature for violence and intensity, for cruelty and hurt. and yet—let’s emphasize on this, and yet—here she was, wasn’t she? here she was entangled with him, not struggling, not burning, not physically fighting the strangeness of this situation. feeling a bit awkward perhaps, like anyone new to love would be testing the limits of their body ( was she doing it right? was there a more comfortable position where she should move him, perhaps? ) but definitely not living any of the consequences that the creatures of the underworld expected from these repulsed actions. the untold lie nevertheless spread among their vicious minds. 

in fact… she found herself quite at peace. strangely alright. as if the comfort he had seemingly found had managed to enter her body as well. along with a little warmth in her chest, and a fast paced rhythm in the cavity of her heart. moving her, lifting her up. 

“ tea, coffee. stained water, it’s the same thing. ” she blurted with a growing smile, relief masked behind confidence, and perhaps, that bit of nonsense she much needed after all that thinking. all that silence in the world. “ i’ll probably need to look up for the instructions on the phone anyways. ever—thought on getting on of those fancy ‘ put-one-capsule-get-one-macchiato ‘ by pressing just one button or something? ugh, the things they do smell so good. ”

ah, but there it was. several seconds too late and vividly in the way he held her arm: with a strength that in no way spoke of a troubled sentiment buried and ready to be forgotten. no, she didn’t know what it was either, what to call it. the desperation she saw in his eyes, and the terrible knot it transported into her guts. unexpected, unknown. 

but why?

“ cam, hey… ” a hand going to his grip, but cowering away the second she felt his muscles, the tension under his skin. “ what’s wrong? hey—hey talk to me… ” she insisted. her body, formerly half-ready to get up went back to kneeling in front of him, a marked crease in-between her brows and a pair of eyes tempted to search the answer in the different corners of his face.

“His beautiful neck…”

Nothing like a little pain to remind you you’re alive.

“ who, me? miss eve, why i'd never. ”

okay, now—i know what you’re thinking. behind that angel face and the most honest smile you’d ever seen on this side of the earth, could it be—like, could it really be possible that reevah ( serious, consequent, always hard work and no fun at all reevah ) could lie or compromise the other’s wishes on something so frivolous and small as a good laugh? WELL—any other time? ...the answer probably would have been yes, no doubt. and even more now that work had been growing a lot more tedious since all of the ‘ end of the world ‘ stuff had everyone pushing to meet deadlines and paperwork she hadn’t even looked at since 1736.

BUT—but, and this was the important part. but, she wasn’t anybody. from all creatures in existence, now and in the past, this one, standing right in front of her, was no more, no less than eve, the first woman. eve, THE EVE, a LEGEND if you ever thought about disobedience, the very one who said ‘ no, i choose ‘ in the face of god and went on from there because so was her desire. and if you ever came to such an opportunity yourself, wouldn’t you try to make the most of it in whichever terms you were allowed to? 

god, this HAD to be the closest thing to meet your favourite superstar on some random bus stop, like—harry styles or something like that. 

“ —BUT ” for of course, this is where her excitement couldn’t be contained any longer. “ if i could only ask—and i mean it, i wouldn’t tell a soul, but—what could you possibly be doing in a place like this, uh? ” and rather than a scold she simply seemed fascinated by the whole deal. “ and how, like—aren’t you a human soul? no offense but, last time i checked it wasn’t allowed that you guys went back once your time was passed. so—who’s even guarding the door up there these days? ”

@choicelesshope​ sent “Surprise me!”: for Reevah

Send “Surprise Me!” and the mun will make a starter with a random muse. I did a number generator and got Eve.

“I hope you’re not planning on causing too much trouble while I’m here. I’m not looking to get involved in anything.” Eve was taking one of her secret trips down to Earth, as she had missed it and wanted to see what had changed since the last time she stepped foot outside of Heaven. Still, she knew the kind of energy that an immortal being exuded. A little bit of focus, and she could sense what kind she was dealing with.

— BEFORE SUNRISE 1995, dir. Richard Linklater

@omniishambles​ said: " okay, quit it with the drinks. i think that's enough, hmm? i'll cover the tab, but for now, let's get you home... " cam @ reevah!

“ but cam! cam, come on, i’m—i’m five shots away from taking this guy’s car keys and showing him what’s up, i can’t leave just now! ” 

there was a whole round of laughter coming from her growing audience, all intertwined with the few ‘ screw yous ‘ coming from her challenger and his close friends. exhilarating, to be honest. fireworks against the loud music and all that people pressing against each other at the club. and—probably, the best part of it, was that it wasn’t part of a job really. like—it could have been, gaining a few points for herself never quite hurt in her experience, but—hell was going through too much chaos right now and she couldn’t care less about heaven and their crusade. so tonight! tonight was all about some fun. harmless fun. taking a guy’s pride sure, but all in a game played by the rules-kind of fun, for a change.

but—( and, this was controversial ). but—cam was here, and god… was he beautiful. with his frown and every single concern. with the way he talked about home like it was a real place. a constant in time, an agreement between him and her. and—while she didn’t want to show it ( no, not in a million years ) while she didn’t want to show how happy such words really, really made her feel, reevah felt a smile taking over her face, and all the vodka in her veins making it all so hard to hide. to take it back.

fuck, now this was real cheesy, and lame ( and so cute, if you’d allow her to say ).

“ plus you’re here! you’re here, we could—we could have some fun. hey—hey let’s go dancing. oh my god let’s go dancing, i’m dying for some dancing! ” and while her intentions had been to gracefully stand up and drag that archangel to the dance floor, her body didn’t quite got the memo for that, making her trip over her own two feet and find some balance in him. laughing, but not quite helping much to make a case for her own sobriety.

lets do the things they said we shouldn’t do.

s.s. (stephenstilwell)

with all due respect, which is none,

top 100 favorite female characters: #4. raven reyes (the 100) “We all have battle scars, Finn. Suck it up and built a brace for yours.”

@omniishambles​ said: 6 and 17 for Reevah!

does your muse steal clothing from their partner?

i don’t think she has ever done that actually? like, okay, she has taken stuff. like, with humans she has spent a night or a couple of those, and she spots a fancy jacket or some super expensive shoes and she takes that one second no one is really looking at her to put them on and leave the place. but that’s—stealing, you know, because she likes pretty stuff, or she is feeling especially cruel that day, or someone pissed her off in a way that was enough to put an end to the whole “seeing each other and playing around” stage with whoever she was seeing at the moment. BUT—but, and this is the important part, but, can i see her in my head maybe having spent one night at a certain archangel’s place, finding one of his cardigans laying around, mindlessly putting it on because it’s cold that day and noticing how much it smells like him and how nice that is? ‘CAUSE DUDE, SHE’D SMILE YET TAKE THAT OFF SO FAST. closest time she almost stole clothing from his partner and the only time so far ( so please cam have mercy on her, just forget a jacket or something next time you meet her, too proud to admit she wants to do the cute things everyone does at movies and stuff ).

does your muse leave hickies? do they ask for them?

OH SHE DOES, SHE SO DOES. she LOVES the sight, she loves making a whole lot of them, and in cases just one in the right place for those cases of people who are so mighty and important and would have to find a way to hide her work the next day.

now, when it comes to asking… i think she has been very strict about no one leaving a mark on her ( wow, ok, hickies and symbolically speaking too, that’s for another day i guess ) as in—she treats that like a dominance game? like, i’m allowed to be in control but if you behave extremely well maaaaaaaaaaybe i’ll let you cross that line for a while? which is fun for her and she hasn't paid it that much thought so far. AND—at the same time, i’m dying with this image of her being with a partner that actually makes her feel vulnerable, and unexpectedly finding a hickey on her and feeling so soft for that? looking at her lover and everything being so warm and safe and she saying that maybe next time they could make a few more to add to her collection ( which she wouldn’t disappear with her abilities, like, actually leaving them for as long as they take to disappear naturally and im like hMMMMMM SO CUTE ).

        ANGER   WAS   :                                      BETTER   THAN   TEARS                                     BETTER   THAN   GRIEF                                     BETTER   THAN   GUILT

Billionaire Boys Club (2018) Directed by James Cox

‘are you decent?’  not morally, but im wearing pants, if thats what youre asking

(  cam  ):

        * * *

 She was making jokes, something they often batted back and forth at eachother. Something which had started out as the idle banter of two people on opposing sides, poking fun at eachother- though Cam’s jokes were usually less direct than hers. He laughed. She always made him laugh, which was where he’d first realised the trouble was growing, where he first realised what feelings were lying just beneath the surface in his own heart.

 But he let the laughter take him, this time, the sound stronger than before. His voice was still quiet when he spoke, his brief moment of amusement gone in a flash as he came back to the matter at hand.

   “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to let you go.” He murmured, his grip on her sleeve still tight. “I…was supposed to let you go, Reevah.”

 Finally he glanced up, peeling himself away just enough to dare looking into her eyes. They were golden, always so bright and full of mischief. Not so much now- God, they almost looked….sad. Worried. For him?

 How could he do this. How could he do this when she was looking at him like that, when every fibre of his soul was screaming no. Not her too. Not her. Please. Instinctively his grip fell away from her arm, his fingers aching from the tension. Instead he brought both hands up to cradle her face gently, too weak to do anything but drink in the sight of her, to feel the warmth of her against his skin. His own brown eyes wavered as he looked at her, wearily shaking his head.

   “But I can’t. I can’t.” 

        * * *

and suddenly—everything in her stops for more than just a moment. from the top of her head to the legs vent underneath her body, from within her chest to the one point where their bodies touched: where she felt the reach of his fear pressing on her skin; undoubted. ‘ i was supposed to let you go ’, how no more than those seven words could wake something older than anything within her, buried deep, forgotten even for herself. 

something—fragile. fine crystal thrown against the ground, shattered. messed up.

what reevah found at the edge of his thoughts was paralyzing fear and a pain she couldn’t comprehend. a silence in her head, a tremor in her throat and the fire of tears rushing to her face. an echo—unreadable, distant. a need to gaze down trying to remember, to make sense of what screamed inside, fought to find its way out. ‘ i was supposed to let you go ‘ i was supposed to say goodbye. and suddenly—she was thrown back to the beginning, to how it was to the very start.

and perhaps you wouldn’t know, perhaps you wouldn’t have thought about this ( as neither did she ) but—abandonment and denial was the very thing she had been born of. judged, rejected. loved in one moment only to be dismissed at the next. perhaps you wouldn’t have made the connection but there was a time where she had felt like this, before cam, before his touch and the very salvation in his eyes. she had been loved, by Her, and before she knew it she had been pushed away for the flaws in her nature. showed what loneliness could really be, how terrifying solitude was, and now, now—expected to feel abandonment once again.

no, not again. not now. 

her eyes went up and her lips parted with words that never made it to the scene. with subtle gasps and eyes that searched in his for a little help. for any way to tell him that she wouldn’t survive this, that she’d do anything, how unfair and maddening this all was. she backed down and pushed herself, questioning every last second of this damned afternoon, and it was when he held her—when he carefully put his hand on her cheek and looked at her with so much pain that she couldn’t contain herself any longer, and so—she leant in. with no hesitation, finding the way to his lips and planting on them a kiss dimly touched by her fears. trembling, unsure. long awaited for, starved and pressed for a few seconds before she drew back. slightly, barely anything, and only to breathe again, collect her thoughts and look for him for a second time—brushing the curve of his mouth before kissing him with hope and a plea; lovingly, learning the warmth of his skin and how silently safe it was to be this close to him. close—wonderfully near, as it should have been for the very start.

“ then don’t. ” she begged, with close eyes and her heart exposed to him. “ cam, please… ” she insisted, moving back and aiming her eyes at his, biting her lips and trying to find the strength to add more, to say more, to tell him how deeply important this was to her “ we’ll find a way—we’ll manage! i know we can, but—please… ” don’t leave me. “ please ” don’t go.

⚰️ + cam and reevah

If they had a kid killed someone meme Send ⚰️ + a ship and I’ll tell you who I think:

is more likely to kill someone: Reevah, 100%.

only threatens to kill someone but won’t actually go that far: Camniel would threaten, but only if he absolutely had to. Or if anyone threatened to hurt her.

freaks out and who stays perfectly calm and collected: Camniel, poor boy, would absolutely freak out. He hasn't killed anyone since the great war between Heaven and Hell and even then he didn't enjoy any aspect of it. I think Reevah would handle it pretty well.

provides the utensils to help get rid of the body: Reevah, definitely.

comes up with the hiding place for the body: Cam’s contribution would be to use the cemetery attached to the churchyard because who’s going to look there.

watches out that nobody witnesses them getting rid of the body: Camniel would be on the lookout.

hides the body and murder weapon: Reevah would take the lead on this but Cam would do his best to help lmao

knows the right people to deal with this: Reevah would definitely know some guys who could assist with a body removal.

isn’t doing this for the first time: Reevah!

will cave in and eventually call the police: Neither of them, the guy definitely would have been killed for a good reason. And they’re not going to get human police involved! But don’t tell Upstairs or Downstairs either.

puts the blame on themself to save the other: If it came to it, I know they’d both try and take the blame for eachother.

is the better liar: Camniel is a terrible liar, so Reevah!

in another universe I’m easier to love