bvstiens-blog

[bvstiens-blog]

orphcvs:

He kept a straight face now, but he’d been genuinely terrified as he stood in front of Russell and that gun, ears ringing from the gunshot and trying to process what the hell had just happened. All he could think about then was how he couldn’t die there, not when there were things he still needed to do. And in the warmth and safety of Bastien’s apartment, it really was finally hitting him that he could have died there. All his work - years of working for the Titans and trying to get even a step closer to finding Rosie’s killer - gone, just like that. 

He’d barely been paying attention to Bastien’s movements until the other man spoke, and he scoffed, recognizing the hidden sentiment in his words. You were worried, he thought. It left a bittersweet taste on his tongue. 

“I think he tried to,” Ben replied, laughing without really meaning to. He knew there was nothing funny about that particular hypothetical but he was alive, right? “But the kid couldn’t hold it steady enough, from what I could tell. I didn’t even know he’d have a gun on him. Always the pretty ones that are unpredictable - ow.” He winced as his arm was turned and he scowled at Bastien, not at all looking forward to whatever was going to come next. His other hand wrapped around the top of the vodka bottle when it was given to him, though he quickly let it go and pressed the hand against Bastien’s cheek instead, stopping him for a moment.

“Hey.” He only briefly met the other man’s eyes and then let it drop along with his hand, fixing his gaze on the countertop instead, spreading his fingers against the hard surface as he tried to keep himself steady. “Thank you, for…everything. I didn’t know who else I could go to. Fuck, I didn’t even know what to do.” 

In the quiet, Ben’s scoff was as loud as a gunshot, and Bas felt seen, all the way down to his bones. His emotion had been that obvious, huh? He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to hurt, itching for the burn of a cigarette now, even as much as he hated the taste. His jaw tightened again, and he kept his eyes down. There was no need to acknowledge what they both knew. Bastien had been self-destructive enough lately, every time he texted Ben to let him know he was coming by or that he was free for a night- 

Bastien drew in a quiet breath at Ben’s laughter, lips parting around a snarl. “You’re such an idiot,” he bit out, voice rough with sudden anger. His hand twisted into a fist, and he thought of jerking Ben’s arm around. Instead, Bastien glanced up at the other Titan with dark eyes, before shaking his head. “Of course you got distracted by a pretty face. Never thinking- That’s Chimera’s job, idiot. Jesus, I should just- He should’ve shot you in the fact, you should’ve been more careful you absolute fucking numbskull.”

It was the touch to his cheek that quieted him, and Bas turned his face away from the warmth of Ben’s fingers for a moment before he was able to look up at the other man. He watched Ben avoiding his own eyes, and he thought of sweat slick skin and faces turned away from each other. He thought of kisses with too much bite that never lingered. He thought of his cheek pressed to the pillow, a hand to his back. Distance at all times. And it all unfurled on his tongue like something bitter, slick as oil. Bastien was the one to scoff this time, but when he spoke, his words held none of the anger or venom from before.

It was quiet, like the air in a confessional.

“Of course, Ben. I’m always here. You know that.” Short words. Short sentences. Focus on a steady voice. Careful breaths. Bas looked back down to the wound on Ben’s arm, and a shudder ran through him. It pressed right into Ben with how close they were, and then Bas got to work, because he felt as if he were tearing apart at the seams.

[bvstiens-blog]

ryvnlee:

Ryan smiled sweetly, twisting her fingers into his hair gently. She liked Bastien, she truly did, even despite his clear disdain for the darker parts of her personality. A bit hypocritical, considering his job, but she liked him still. Trusted him as one of her best friends and one of the few people who haven’t tragically disappointed her yet. And wasn’t that sad, one of her best friends hated something she could never and will never change?

“Sweet, sweet Bastien, how your words set my soft heart a flutter. Your love is but the sole reason my lungs continue to breathe and my heart to beat.”

She laughed, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turned her eyes to the crowd milling around them. “Well, you know, eat the rich. Just think of us as cuter Robin Hoods with better clothes and more ammo.””

“Ryan, sweetie, we are absolutely not Robin Hood, in any way, shape, or form. For one thing, we’re sure as shit not stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.” Bastien couldn’t help snorting quietly, eyes rolling as he tugged the other Titan closer so he could hook his chin over the curve of her shoulder. His hand rested at her hip, gently curled into her shirt. His eyes skimmed the crowd once, and then twice, before he sighed. He hadn’t caught sight of Atlas in a bit, and thought he was more than aware of the fact that they could take care of themselves, it still burned a little bit in his chest, that vague (or not so vague) desire to see their face.

“I need to get laid,” he finally muttered, letting out a groan. “Find me a pliable rich kid, you’re good at picking them out.” Of course, there was always Ben, and the fact that his heart sped up at the thought said far too much. “Actually, I lied. I’m compromised. I need you to kill me. I can’t stop thinking, and it’s probably best if you just put me out of my misery.” Bas sighed again, dragging a hand over his face. “Is your boytoy ever gonna wander back over here with our drinks?”

[bvstiens-blog]

orphcvs:

Ben wrinkled his nose when he was hit with the scent of smoke, though he had to admit there was something familiar and something almost comforting about it. He figured that also could be the fact that Bastien’s voice was letting him know that he was finally safe, and that he was going to be able to do something about this arm. “It’s not that bad. I think. It didn’t go through, from what I can tell. It just - grazed it? Took a chunk out of my arm? I don’t know.” He frowned, wincing slightly when he was pulled in, though being inside was a blessing on its own. 

“Have you been drinking? Are you going to be able to…” The bottle of rum on the counter was staring blindly back at him, but he supposed there really wasn’t anywhere else he could go at this moment. Or anywhere else he would rather be, if he was being completely honest with himself. Already tired, Ben dragged himself to the counter and sat as he was told, pulling his shirt sleeve back so Bas could get a better look at it. 

He sat quietly for a moment, unwilling to answer Bastien’s previous question because he knew he was going to get an earful. But then again, what was the point anymore? “That kid shot me, fucking Russell of all people. I didn’t think he had it in him,” Ben laughed, though he knew it wasn’t very funny, “he was with Hermes, and I didn’t think it’d be much of an issue if I tried to take them both. They had the car ready and everything, Bas. I was close.” It would have been one hell of a way to show Olympus up, too - one step closer to what he needed. “Richie’s not going to be very happy about this.” 

“My hands are steadier than yours even when I’m piss drunk, so shut the fuck up with that. It’s my job.” Bastien snapped up a (perfectly still) hand, flipping Ben off without stopping his search through his cabinets for what he’d called his kit. It was stocked almost to overflowing with medical supplies, pain meds, and one emergency bottle of vodka for when they needed to be vaguely numb for whatever was about to happen. If the bullet had lodged, Bas would be shoving that particular bottle into Ben’s hand and making him chug it so that he could stitch him up in relative peace. Bastien crowed in satisfaction when he found it, turning with it pressed against his chest. His eyes skimmed over Ben quickly, seeking familiar movements. He watched the other Titan breathe for just a moment, and words bubbled in his throat like a fountain.

I’m so glad you’re safe.

I can’t believe you were stupid enough to get shot.

I’m so glad you’re safe.

Atlas is going to have your head for this.

I’m so glad you’re safe I’m so glad you’re safe I’m so glad you’re safe I’m so glad you’re safe

“Glad he didn’t shoot you in your stupid face,” Bastien finally said, and his voice was thicker than he’d meant it to be. It was there and gone again in an instant, just a slip of emotion when he’d only meant to tease. He set the kit on the counter, and pushed Ben’s sleeve up just a little higher with hands as light as a feather. He grasped below the wound, twisting Ben’s arm. Bastien’s face was carefully blank, nothing like the man who pushed Ben’s buttons until he got exactly what he wanted, whether it was a fight or to be kissed and fucked until he couldn’t think. This was Leto, unmoving, unflinching, even as blood dripped over his fingers. “Good job keeping pressure on this,” he finally offered. Then, his quick hands pulled out disinfectant, the vodka, and gauze to clean everything up. The vodka was placed quickly in the other Titan’s lap.

“If it hurts, bite down on your shirt. If it really hurts and your pain tolerance is really that bad, take a swig of the vodka. I’m gonna start cleaning this now.”

[bvstiens-blog]

solismortem:

Kit feels like he can’t breathe the second that he feels the pressure around his wrist.  He hadn’t done anything, not yet at least, had planned on going the charming and distracting route today, see if he could make a little more than normal.  Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t, and now is a great example of what happened if it didn’t.  

“Nothing, nothing, can’t a guy come to a bar?” Kit chokes out the excuse, the grip painful around his wrist but it might as well have been around his neck.  his eyes glance to where Bas’s wallet is sitting half out of his pocket, what had tempted him in the first place, but now he wouldn’t even dream of following through with.  

“Y-you come here often?” he tries with a forced grin.

Bastien’s upper lip curled a little bit, and his fingers twitched with violent purpose. He could snap the thief’s wrist right here, send him on his way out with a message for anyone who came to Tartarus looking to score. Instead, he uncurled his fingers and crossed his arms over his chest. Normally, Someone ringing in at his height couldn’t even attempt to be intimidating, but there was something cold in his eyes that helped contribute to why people were actually afraid of the normally gentle Titan.

“Jesus, stop pissing your pants,” he finally muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “Nobody wants to have to clean that up. I’m not going to fucking kill you.” He scoffed a little, and added a muttered you’re really not worth the time or the effort before he dragged his eyes down the other’s body.

“Seriously. What are you doing in Tartarus, Icarus?”

[bvstiens-blog]

ixpetus:

Immediately, Sebastian can gather certain tells of the other’s state. The slouch, the flickering of his eyes, the nature of the question - obviously something was wrong. But, that had always been Sebastian’s weakness - compassion. A need to love and be loved.

He’s stepping out of the way even before Bastien explains himself, though he keeps his demeanor as nonchalant as possible. He looks affable rather than concerned and he seeks to keep it that way.

“Two coins for the gate keeper.” Sam comments softly, taking the coffee as it’s offered to him. “Come.” He says nothing else, waiting until Sebastian has made it securely inside to reinstate the security protocols and begin to lead the other up towards the lab.

If there’s one thing that Sebastian knows as a pinnacle method of coping, it’s diversion, so he draws Bastien’s focus with a question.

“What kind of modifications are you considering?”

All of Sam’s security protocols had always made Bastien feel like he was in a spy movie, and it was almost enough to draw him out of the funk that the date had put him in. Years later, the memories were fuzzy, especially considering how young he’d been when he’d found out. The anniversary of the day that Denise had announced the fact that they’d found cancer, that hopefully they’d caught it in time but that they thought it might spread-

Bastien shook away the heavy thoughts, rubbing at his tired and sore eyes instead. 

It took him a few moment to process what Sam had just said, and the hitman squinted at the other Titan for a few seconds while his brain tried desperately to reboot. Bas swallowed a little, and then moved to lean against one of the tables with his arms crossed over his chest. “I was wanting a modified zoom- I haven’t been wanting to get too close to the Warehouse or Club Nyra recently but I’ve still been keeping an eye on them. There was also an issue the last time I shot it- I’m thinking a longer barrel might be the best bet.”

[bvstiens-blog]

shadowedsun:

He’d lost track of what time it was by now. All he had known when he left the apartment was that he was in need of something to keep his mind occupied. Too long without those distractions, and he’d find himself lingering back on the memories of prison - or worse, the temptation that laid around every corner. Perhaps it’d be easier to try and sleep it off, blissful ignorance to everything - but insomnia seemed to come easier to him instead. As he passed the dimly lit bodega on the corner for the fourth time, he tossed his cold cup of coffee out, before taking a deep breath and standing under the streetlight. He wasn’t sure where to go now, if he should keep walking or just back - and what an ironic metaphor to how he felt in life.

Avi was debating on whether it was worth it to get another cup of coffee as he noticed a figure coming towards the shop as well. Avi tilted his head as he saw them approaching, hands fishing around in his back pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. Even as he spoke to the other person, he still felt the prickliness of anxiety under his skin, trembling and bubbling underneath. Realizing that his lighter was in his other coat, he groaned. “You wouldn’t happen to have a lighter, would you?” he started, fingering through the open carton of cigarettes, trying to pull one out - before noticing that he was completely out of those as well. He swore under his breath, raking his hand through his hair, before laughing hollowly. “Fuck. Cigarette and a lighter, by chance? I’ll owe you one next time I see you, whenever that might be.” 

At the bodega around the corner from his apartment, he was known by name. He came in every few days for cigarettes and came in almost every day for candy or little things he’d forgotten at the grocery store the last time, and sometimes he just came in to bring the cashiers food if he’d picked himself up something. Javi, the boy behind the counter on most nights, was cuter than he had a right to be, and well, Bastien had considered it a few times before he realized that his feelings for Ben were a little stronger than he’d originally thought and then he didn’t want to project on anyone else. After the other night, with Ben’s blood on his fingers and all the cigarettes he’d gone through, he needed to get himself a fresh pack before he lost his mind. His hands were shoved down into his pockets as he approached, and he lifted his head at the sight of someone in his way. It was a familiar face, and Bas’ lips curled into a slow smile that stuck on his face as he realized that Avi was certainly feeling a little rough around the edges.

The hitman paused, eyes dragging up and down Avi’s form with just slightly narrowed eyes. “Here,” he said, voice soft, and knocked his very last cigarette out of the pack and held it out to Avi. The lighter was passed on as well, and the short man leaned back on his heels, hands returning to his pockets. “You don’t look so good,” he finally said, just as quiet as before. His eyes narrowed a little once more, head tilting. “You wanna swing back by my apartment, get some food and some sleep maybe? When was the last time you ate? More importantly, the last time you slept?”

[bvstiens-blog]

ryvnlee:

Ryan laughed, high and bright and terrible. She ducked down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Bastien, my love, you look so soft but can be so cruel.” She laughed again and twirled away, her arms and waist moving to the beat of the song. It was catchy and lovely and she wondered if Bas thought those lyrics applied to himself. When he finished, sat on the armrest of his seat and draped herself across the back. “Please, you know you love having me. I’m amazing.”

She stuck her tongue back out at him, following his eyes through the crowds. So many bustling, bumbling, relaxed people in their wake, strutting around the party like it was theirs to conquer and own. Cute. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Rich people are so…,” she waved her hand in the air, “loose with everything.“

It was so easy to loop his arm around Ryan's waist, look up at her with eyes that were both adoring and untrusting. He wasn't another one of her marks or toys. He'd seen the cruelty under her sweet beauty more than once, and even if he'd trust her with his back in a fight and trust her to keep him alive, he truly didn't trust her as far as he could throw her. "Oh, Ryan, my darling, you caught me. I am absolutely lost in your eyes and never want you to leave my side- Please, don't ever leave me. It'd kill me." His voice was completely monotone, and when he finished speaking he blinked at her once as if he were batting his lashes.

It didn't take much to make the hitman bubble with laughter however, and soon enough he was chuckling at his own jokes. "You just like them because they're easy targets and they're fun to fuck with. Not exactly confidence inspiring or making me want to like them."

[bvstiens-blog]

orphcvs:

Sebastien Park’s Apartment @bvstiens

He should have paid more attention back when Rosie tried to talk to him about first aid. It burned, more than anything, and he’d kept his hand pressed against the spot for about an hour but the bleeding wasn’t stopping completely. Hospitals were out of the question - not much that could be done for a man without insurance and without a name, so as foolish as it were, Benjamin found himself taking heavy steps towards the one place he knew he’d be safe at. 

Still, he hesitated at the door, even as he watched blood drop onto the hallway floor underneath him. Bastien wouldn’t want him here - at least not like this, not when he’d gotten shot for being a little too cocky and thinking that taking down both Kiefer and Russell wouldn’t be an issue. (It shouldn’t have been, really - he just never thought that Russell would be man enough to pick up a gun and shoot it at him.) He felt another drop of blood creeping down his bare arm and he sighed, finally picking up his other arm and knocking at the familiar door. 

“Bas,” Ben called out, briefly closing his eyes, desperately hoping that the other man was home tonight, “Um, I could use a little help.” 

After everything that had happened that night, with Ryan getting hurt and Zeus getting shot- With them trying to hijack the shipment and basically getting turned on their heads- Well, Bastien had decided that it was the perfect time to break into his emergency stash of rum and cigarettes. He took a swig of the alcohol, letting the taste linger in his mouth. The smoke settled him, reminded him of cars driving too fast and fire escapes and where he came from. He’d heard something about one of their people getting shot, but hadn’t gotten confirmation as to who yet; they were all sort of scattered after everything. Other than a general “not dead” from everyone, Bastien had taken to pacing. 

His thumb kept swiping across the screen of his phone. He hadn’t seen Ben on the docks when he was there, but he knew he’d been out there; what had happened to him. Would it be strange for him to call? His thumb now tapped out a rhythm, one that matched the beat of his heart, and the knock on his door startled him enough that he nearly sloshed rum on himself. He set the bottle down quickly, putting the cigarette out and tossing the butt into the trash can at the corner of the bar. 

Ben’s voice was familiar, and Bas would never admit to how quickly he rushed to the door. When he pulled it open, though, his eyes immediately narrowed. His nostrils flared. “You got shot?” He asked incredulously, reaching for the man’s opposite shoulder to drag him in. “Jesus, did the bullet lodge? Sit on the counter, let me find my kit- How the fuck did you get shot?”

[bvstiens-blog]

ofxhera:

Well wasn’t this speech trifling. Although Victoria was listening, you never would have guessed by her appearance, head tilted away, attention seemingly focused elsewhere, as if the person at her side meant less than nothing, barely a person at all. That, was, of course, an impression - and her nerves were upright as they spoke. If they wanted to monologue, so be it - information was in itself a weapon - and she could sharpen their words and stick it in their own back, if given the right opportunity. In the past, peoples weaknesses were exposed - a low tide, the rocks uncovered. Despite how fascinating she found the window into her enemies soul, Victoria faked boredom, raising a hand to her mouth to stifle a faux yawn. “That might have worked back in Europe. But this is America. Here, you have to bite as well as bark. And it’s all too easy to fall under the radar.”

“Maybe I like being under the radar.” Bastien smiled almost sweetly at the woman, sliding his thumb up to catch a drop of condensation that waited at the rim of his glass. A hum caught in his throat, vibrating slowly. It was something so stupidly simple, but he knew a fake yawn when he saw it, from all the times he faked them himself to get away from Hank. Bastien chuckled, and then shook his head. How hard was she trying, really? How hard were any of them trying, playing this stupid game of territories and power? The mob, really? What had led any of them here? Bastien threw back the rest of his drink, and then started to stand. He paused, placing a hand on the bar and leaning down to smile at Hera again. “You really should stop leaving the Warehouse so late. You could get hurt.” Bas winked, and then stepped easily back into the crowd and vanished. His height did have its advantages.

[bvstiens-blog]

atlasjohnson:

“And yet, you don’t love her any less despite how troublesome she can be.” Richie nodded, fully understanding. While Bas seemed to be attracted to homeless felines, he gravitated more towards people like the one standing before him… And dogs, it seemed as his new puppy squirmed in his arms. Setting her down and quietly watching her as he sank deeper into his thoughts, he couldn’t help but to clench his jaw in reflex of Bastien’s tone. “I told Ryan to make an impression and she did, don’t hold that against her. If you’re going to be angry with anyone, it should be me.” He snapped back, quick to come to the defense of any of Titans. Quickly recovering from his temper, he cleared his throat and returned to the topic at hand. “We have to figure out a way to disable their resources… And I promise, nothing violent this time.”

Bastien had no idea how the two of them had gotten so close; his temper always flared in response to Richie’s, and it was like clockwork. Maybe he was steaming for a fight because of other reasons, but he didn’t want to drop the subject or move on. He didn’t want to go back to talking shop, not when this was the first time the two of them had really talked about what had happened a year ago on the docks. “Oh, trust me, I’m angry with the both of you,” he bit out, quick and sharp like a blade. It had been building in him for months now, this rubbed raw anger that felt like a betrayal. “I know you’ve got your own way of doing things, I know you’re hands-on, and no, when I approached you I didn’t know about your violent streak but-” Bas dragged in a breath, fingers curling slowly. “You promise no violence this time but last time-” His voice broke again. “Jesus fucking Christ, Rich, we look like monsters. All of us do.” Bas dragged his hands through his hair, pacing to one of the windows and slamming it open so he could look out over the city with a bit of a breeze in his face.

“You let her tear a man apart and praised her for it. We were supposed to make an impression. We’re like some kind of nightmare.”

[bvstiens-blog]

mishrafreddie:

Freddie watched intently as Bastien started up the song, smiling once he recognized the melody. There were so many people at the party, it was difficult to keep track of who was who and what was going on. He wasn’t sure where this man fell into the mix–Freddie didn’t recognize him from Old or New Olympus. Maybe he was just a regular guy, but he could never be sure anymore. 

Once the song was over, Freddie clapped. “Bravo, bravo,” he said. Freddie shrugged. “Dunno, I was pretty satisfied with the song. Oh, hey, I’m Freddie by the way. Freddie Mishra.”

“Well, I’m glad you were satisfied,” Bas said, a little grin teasing at the corners of his lips. The hitman couldn’t help letting his eyes scan the party once; it was quick, just reassessing where his people were and making sure no one was in trouble. The narrowing of his eyes could’ve been from the sun, not because there were unfamiliar faces too close. Bas quickly looked back to the other man, and then heled out his hand for a quick shake. “I’m Bastien Park. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Freddie- Though unless you want another song, I’m not sure what, exactly, I could do for you- unless you want me to buy you a drink.” It was flirting, definitely, but Bas just couldn’t help it.

[bvstiens-blog]

Look at us telling each other lies and lies about how we felt about how it was just one night about how it didn’t affect me nor you. Here’s the truth: I think I actually like you more than I intended to.

a book I’ll never write  (via tonkinwrites)

[bvstiens-blog]

jullybeans:

If he flinched, Julian absolutely refused to acknowledge it - sure, Bastien did actually scare the shit out of him and if it came down to it, there was no doubt that he’d be overpowered (Julian barely knew how to use a gun, after all), but Apollo and Sunny were family, and he’d made a promise to himself to protect them however he could. And while he could hear the same concerns in Bastien’s words and his voice, the more stubborn part of him didn’t let him believe the other man. Maybe it was really because Julian didn’t trust the Titans, maybe it was because he didn’t want to be replaced, but whatever it was, he didn’t want Bastien around. “Leave you the hell alone? Excuse me, but I’m not the one who’s always over at my apartment, eating my food and drinking my tea. I’m not the one forcing myself into their lives, okay?” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not trying to start shit. But you made your choice to be with Atlas. At least own up to it.” 

His temper was so hot he could feel it in his throat, like ash. "Did you not just hear me? They're both fucking adults, it's not like I could make them want to spend time with me. Jesus Christ, what exactly is your damage? Would you be this pissed if I wasn't a Titan?" Bas scoffed, and then looked Julian up and down with obvious distaste. "Look, you're the one who started this. I was being perfectly fucking civil-" and Bastien bit down on his tongue, letting out a sigh after a moment. "I've made my bed and I'm sure as shit lying in it. I've never claimed to be anything I'm not. Just leave me the hell alone, alright?" Bas rubbed a hand over his face, just the slightest bit of strain showing at the corners of his eyes after the fire that had been burning in his chest. "Pull that stick out of your ass before you try and start an argument next time. Then at least you can beat me with it." Bastien rolled his eyes, shouldering past the man without a second glance.

[bvstiens-blog]

solismortem:

Location: Tartarus @bvstiens & @ryvnlee

Kit doesn’t gamble, and he doesn’t have a contract with anyone here so he really has no reason to be wandering into Tartarus like this.  He recognizes a few faces, and this pleases him in a self important kind of way.  The main room is loud, just like the gaming rooms and the bar, the whole place is loud in a way different from either of the other HQs are.  It doesn’t bother him, but it is distracting enough that he doesn’t notice who he bumps into, their wallet already in his hand.

“Oh, scuse me,” he says, rare panic filling his gut at the sight of Bas in front of him.  

Bas doesn't tolerate thieves. Maybe it's because of the generalization that all foster kids are going to end up thieves and criminals (and he's not going to be that hypocritical of himself), but maybe it's just because they seem so low to him. Most of them are cowards, quick on their feet and never really doing anything worthwhile. There's just something about the generally twitchy bastards that rubs him the wrong way. Bastien didn't spend too much time in Tartarus. He remembered how much his second foster mother had loved places like this and it made his upper lip curl, but if he could find the bar it wasn't too bad. The short man was used to being run into, but it was the sudden sensation of his pocket being just a little lighter that caught his attention. His head snapped up, and almost immediately his lips were pulling into a too-friendly smile and his fingers had wrapped around Kit's wrist in a painful grip. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

[bvstiens-blog]

ryvnlee:

Ryan couldn’t stop the giggles that erupted. She covered her mouth with a hand, her dark eyes and gold painted nails sparkling. She feigned catching his blown kiss and pressed it to her cheek, smiling serenely. “You’re making my heart bleed, Bas. I think I’ve fallen in love with you with just those two lines. I don’t know how I went my entire life without these feelings.” She gently kicked his knee. She slipped out of her seat and danced with her eyes closed to the song he started singing. 

"Sweetheart, I don't know how you've survived this long without having any feelings," Bas said, and then swallowed. There was no use in apologizing; not to Ryan. Either she didn't care or generally wouldn't accept it, but Bas wouldn't apologize to the other Titan unless he'd said something particularly cruel. He offered her a lopsided smile instead, and when she started to dance the smile grew more genuine. Maybe Bastien didn't have the best voice out there, nothing show stopping or a total powerhouse, but his voice was sweet enough to catch your attention and hold it for a moment. Something about the way he sang made you wanna smile, just a little. When he finished, Bas rested his arm over his knee, smiling again up at his friend. "You want another, or are you going to find some other way to bother me?" The hitman stuck his tongue out at the other playfully, his eyes scanning through the crowd slowly. He let out a sigh, fingers absentmindedly picking out chords. "I really do hate parties like this. Rich people just aren't my favorites."

[bvstiens-blog]

ixpetus:

It’s particular work, his line of work - particular, meticulous. Personal. As much as Sebastian didn’t mind a visitor or two, he did like to know when - and why - they were coming. A knock at his front door and a glance at the security camera has him in a mood - not a bad one, per-say, but friendly would also serve as a poor modifier. Nonetheless, he stands and makes his way out of the laboratory he’d made for himself on the second floor of the formidable structure and down to the door.

“I do hope your reasoning for paying a visit at such an - inconvenient - time is of some importance.” He says, not altogether unkind as he cracks the door open, surveying his guest with an understandable wariness.

Bastien smelled of cigarette smoke when the door was pulled open, but the scent of alcohol didn't accompany it. He slouched slightly, making himself seem even shorter, and his eyes were quiet and blank on the other Sebastian's blue ones. "Sam," he said quietly, holding up the single takeaway cup of coffee in his hand. "Mind if I watch you work?" There's something comforting about it. Bas didn't particularly want to talk, at least not yet. Sam was quiet and didn't make Bastien feel like he had to stand any taller. The hitman rubbed a hand across his obviously exhausted face, rolling his head slowly around so his neck cracked. "Look," he said, his voice heavy and rough with something he couldn't talk about. "I'll go if you really want me to but I figured the coffee could at least get me in the door, and I wanted to talk to you about some modifications on my rifle anyway."

[bvstiens-blog]

#18, fuck me up

18) things you said when you were scared

he shouldn’t even be here.

these little rendezvous were a conflict of interest that would make for a beautifully terrible shakespearean tragedy; starcrossed one might say. two hitmen from rival gangs, somehow friends now? when bastien heard that something had happened with new olympus he somehow always managed to find marcus, check in on him even if it was from two roofs away.

he shouldn’t be here.

“i don’t know what’s going to happen with the titans,” he whispered, and it was so soft it could’ve been blown away in the wind. but he knew that marcus would hear him, and he knew that this was just as bad as spilling all of their drop locations and leaving their front door unlocked for a fight. “i don’t think i can keep doing this. i don’t think i can- there’s a darkness sometimes that i can’t beat. i’m afraid of it, marcus.”