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@crueltywon-a / crueltywon-a.tumblr.com

ind. Neil Josten of AFTG. CANON DIVERGENT & DARK MATERIALS AHEAD.
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crueltywon-a

I’VE ARCHIVED THIS BLOG ! 

FIND NEIL ON @crueltywon

I WILL BE FOLLOWING ALL THE PEOPLE I FOLLOW HERE AS SOON AS THE FIRST 24 HOURS ARE UP ( so the account shows in your notifs so you can choose to follow back if you want

I’M ONLY DOING THIS BC THIS BLOG IS SO MESSY AND I’VE BEEN WANTING TO CLEAN IT UP. 

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reblogged
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crueltywon-a

I’VE ARCHIVED THIS BLOG ! 

FIND NEIL ON @crueltywon

I WILL BE FOLLOWING ALL THE PEOPLE I FOLLOW HERE AS SOON AS THE FIRST 24 HOURS ARE UP ( so the account shows in your notifs so you can choose to follow back if you want

I’M ONLY DOING THIS BC THIS BLOG IS SO MESSY AND I’VE BEEN WANTING TO CLEAN IT UP. 

Avatar
reblogged
Avatar
crueltywon-a

I’VE ARCHIVED THIS BLOG ! 

FIND NEIL ON @crueltywon

I WILL BE FOLLOWING ALL THE PEOPLE I FOLLOW HERE AS SOON AS THE FIRST 24 HOURS ARE UP ( so the account shows in your notifs so you can choose to follow back if you want

I’M ONLY DOING THIS BC THIS BLOG IS SO MESSY AND I’VE BEEN WANTING TO CLEAN IT UP. 

Avatar
reblogged
Avatar
crueltywon-a

I’VE ARCHIVED THIS BLOG ! 

FIND NEIL ON @crueltywon

I WILL BE FOLLOWING ALL THE PEOPLE I FOLLOW HERE AS SOON AS THE FIRST 24 HOURS ARE UP ( so the account shows in your notifs so you can choose to follow back if you want

I’M ONLY DOING THIS BC THIS BLOG IS SO MESSY AND I’VE BEEN WANTING TO CLEAN IT UP. 

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I swear my biggest issue irl is my laziness ??? this blog would be so much more organised if I used my tag system properly and used the thread tracker thing..... lk considering moving Neil to a new blog just to clean it up & bc of the damn notifs from the dumb meme...

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      The natural instinct is to push Neil’s legs off, but he begrudgingly resists it, though the second slight eye roll since Neil arrived is not imperceptible.  ❝ Never be sorry, junkie, ❞ he finishes on one hand and moves to the other, coating the wound with the medication before wrapping it up. If Neil’s knuckles look like this, Andrew ponders for a moment on what Jack’s face probably looks like and enjoys the image his mind comes up with.  
    ❝ You need ice, ❞ Andrew states into the void, and even though he does not want to get up and leave Neil alone, he does it anyway, coming back with one small bag of ice and one larger one. He throws the larger bag on Neil’s stomach before placing the smaller one on the galaxy that spreads over his cheek, blending in with the gruesome scars to create a landscape Andrew hates himself for thinking is pretty.     
    When he sits back down, he places Neil’s legs over his lap again, leaning back into the headrest. He sighs. ❝ Will you ever stop giving me a headache, Josten? ❞
HE WONDERS IDLY, WHEN DID ANDREW BECOME A MOTHER HEN ? WHEN DID ANDREW FALL SO DEEP, THAT HE COULD NOT WATCH NEIL’S PAIN. THAT INSTEAD, HE MUST ACT TO RIGHT THE IDIOTIC MOVES NEIL MADE. WAS THAT LOVE ? HIS MOTHER NEVER TAUGHT HIM. BUT HE SUPPOSED, SHE DID ALWAYS CLEAN UP AFTER HIM, CARE FOR HIM. & WASN’T THAT WHAT ANDREW WAS DOING ?

BEING SO DEEP IN THOUGHT LEAVES NEIL IGNORANT OF ANDREWS MOVEMENTS  ( & WHEN DID HE REALLY BECOME SO COMFORTABLE TO NO LONGER WATCH ANDREW ? TO LET HIM BE & DO TO NEIL AS HE PLEASES ? ) YET HE CANNOT HELP THE WAY HIS SHOULDERS EASED AT ANDREWS HARSH GAZE. SCARRED FINGERS HOLD THE NUMBING ICE, CAREFUL TO EASE THE PAIN THAT THE IDIOT CAUSED HIM. HE WONDERS THOUGH, FOR STOOPING DOWN TO JACKS LEVEL, WAS HE NOT THE IDIOT HIMSELF ? ( HE WAS IN HIS FATHERS EYES, JACK WOULD HAVE NEVER TALKED IN SUCH WAYS TO NATHAN NOR NATHANIEL )                    ❝               thank you Andrew, for everything               ❞

YET A WICKED SMILE CURLS UPON HIS LIPS AT ANDREWS TOUCH. THE ALLOWANCE OF SUCH A GESTURE DOES NOT GO UNSEEN. IT IS  A SOLID REMINDER OF HOW FAR THEY HAVE COME. FINGERS HOVER OVER ANDREWS SPARE HAND                ❝               no, I think we both know I wont. Can I hold your hand ? yes or no ?               ❞

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          ‘    extravagant  observation,    josten.        looks  like  you  can’t  get  rid  of  me  that  easily,    huh?    ‘

❝                ON THE CONTRARY. did I ever say I wanted to get rid of you ? Kevin, maybe. You ? Never.               ❞

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      Andrew knows there’s more than Neil’s letting on. He might not say I’m fine anymore, but the blonde can still hear it.  ❝ Your face is a cheap shot, ❞ he blurts out, completely deadpan as he rummages through the little box, picking out the bandages and medicine, knowing the chance of there being blood underneath Neil’s jersey is high. 
      Carefully trained eyes notice how the striker’s fingers don’t bend right, and Andrew rolls them back into his head before pushing the box and everything else aside so he can scoot closer to Neil.  ❝ Put your arms up, ❞ another order, and as soon as Neil complies, his fingers grip the edge of the material and pull it up, taking care not to bump into Neil’s likely broken fingers. Andrew assesses the mess that is the striker’s ribs with his fingers, poking and prodding to see how Neil reacts, trying hard to be gentle but when is a storm ever not a storm? No skin is broken, but Neil’s going to need more than ice. 
    He thinks on how much longer he’ll have to do this, and the conclusion he comes to is: the rest of his life.
      ❝ Who started this? ❞ he asks, feigning curiosity only because he needs to distract his mind while he works, one hand finding the bandages while the other one pulls one of Neil’s hands closer so he can wrap the bleeding knuckles. 

A PART OF HIM IS PAINED, ACHING IN A BONE WEARY WAY THAT IS REMINISCENT OF BEING SHOVED IN CLOSETS, OF GUNSHOT WOUNDS & THREATS. ANOTHER PART IS TWINGING WITH AMUSEMENT, JOY & MAYHAPS LOVE. THE CARE THAT ANDREW TAKES WITH HIS SOFT FINGERS, EASING THE JERSEY OVER HIS AUBURN CURLS. IN THAT MOMENT HE IS NOT A MONSTER, NOR AN ENEMY. JUST A LOVER, LIKE ANY OTHER. 

❝               it wasn’t me   —— no it actually wasn’t               ❞         A WINCE PASSED HIS PALE FACE AS NEIL LEANS BACK INTO THE COUCH, LETTING ANDREW WORK. YET HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO IGNORE A DIRECT QUESTION. EVEN WHEN HE WANTS TO, HE KNOWS THAT THEY ARE ASKED FOR THE BENEFIT OF ONE OF THEM. THEY ARE NOT MEANINGLESS WORDS.            ❝               He made a dumb joke about  ——Nathaniel & he had already pushed my temper. I lashed out. I’m not sorry about it either.              ❞          NEIL KICKS HIS LEGS UP TO REST ON ANDREWS LAP, OFFERING HIS HAND IN SILENCE. HE CAN FEEL THE REPRIMAND BREWING BEHIND HAZEL EYES & YET, HE FEELS NO REGRET FOR PUTTING JACK BACK IN HIS PLACE. 

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        As soon as he hears the door open and the subsequent chaos erupting as Neil barges in, a disaster on two legs as he’s ever been, there’s no need to guess what happened. It was doomed to happen sooner or later, with both Jack and Neil having it out for each other’s throats since Jack joined the team, but Andrew vowed to himself he wouldn’t get between it. If Neil Josten had to die five times to learn his lesson than so be it, there was no grave that could hold that boy down. Hazel eyes are trained on the entrance to the lounge before Neil’s physique can be viewed, and it doesn’t take long for him to take in the damage dealt. He’s in bad shape❝ You thought wrong. Sit down, ❞ he orders, getting up without warning so he can go to the bathroom and come back with the first aid kit. Andrew sits back down, pointing to Neil with his chin. ❝ Show me. ❞

DEATH HAD NOTHING ON THE MAN BEFORE HIM, SO OFTEN DEATH HAD CREPT OUT OF THE SHADOWS TO REACH FOR HIS ANKLES, & OH HE WOULD HAVE GONE READILY. YET HE KNOWS DEATH TOO HAS A FASCINATION WITH THE BLONDE BEFORE HIM, YET ANDREW WAS A FEARED THING, EVEN BY DEATH ITSELF. NEIL SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TO COME HOME INJURED. HE TRULY, WALKED INTO THIS HIMSELF. 

ON UNSTEADY LEGS HE LOWERS HIMSELF DOWN ONTO THE COUCH. HE BONES ACHING IN A WAY HE HASN’T FELT FOR MANY YEARS. YET THAT SICK SATISFACTION, THAT PART OF HIM THAT IS ALL NATHANIEL, IS GLAD FOR THE DAMAGE DONE TO JACK. A BROKEN NOSE AND KNIFE TO THE GUT WAS LIKELY NOT GOING TO DIFFUSE THE SITUATION BUT IT EASED THE BLOOD LUST THRUMMING THROUGH NEILS SKIN. YET WITH CAREFUL MOVEMENTS, NEIL WATCHES ANDREW WALK BACK IN                 ❝               It’s just my face —— & my left rib cage. He got a cheap shot               ❞

YET THOSE BROKEN FINGERS CANNOT GRIP AROUND HIS JERSEY, AND HIS RIBS WOULD NOT TAKE THE ABUSE OF BEING JOSTLED SO INSTEAD HE OFFERS A SHEEPISH LOOK, A PLEA FOR THE CALM SEA INSIDE OF ANDREW RATHER THAN THE RAGING CURRENTS               ❝            I would,  but I can’t get this off               ❞

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TAROT CARD MEME. 

You got: DEATH

ACCURATE  You can be a bit intense and find yourself drawn to dark and mysterious things. You’ve been through a lot and have probably seen your fair share of endings, but probably cope with it through humor.

NOT ACCURATE. On top of that, you are surprisingly easygoing — you’re open to change, try not to let past baggage weigh you down, and seek out new experiences.

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@deathcalling didn’t ask for this but added andrew so what did they expect. 

BLOODIED FINGERS DROP HIS STAINED BAG, HIS PACE OFF KILTER & SCREAMING OF THE PAIN THAT BLOOMS IN HIS SIDE. JACK HAD GOTTEN A CHEAP SHOT, A JAB TO THE RIBS THAT LEAD TO A DANCE OF FISTS & KNIVES. NEILS LEFT EYE WAS BRUISED, A FINGER ON HIS LEFT HAND BROKEN & THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG WITH HIS RIBS. BUT ANDREW HAD PSYCHOLOGY FOR THE NEXT HALF HOUR. NEIL WAS SAFE TO PATCH HIMSELF UP & FORMULATE A PLAN. OR SO HE THOUGHT UNTIL HE MOVED INTO THE LOUNGE, THE TV ON LOW & THE MONSTER CURLED ON THE COUCH, HIS ATTENTIVE GAZE CATCHING NEIL, FORCING HIM TO STAND STOCK STILL, BLOODY & BRUISED.                 ❝               I thought you had class               ❞

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