ᴰᴼᴺ'ᵀ ᵂᴬᴵᵀ ᶠᴼᴿ ᴹᴱ

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈

[astremourante]

𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⸻ by ami (she/her) ♥

𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 - 𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 - 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐔𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 ♪ ( 𝑐𝑎𝑎𝑟𝑑 ) ♪ ( 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠 ) ♪ ( 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠 ) ♪ ( 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛 ) ♪

( credits: icons / mobile & pinned banner )

MULTI - MUSE SIDEBLOG ♥ @channeledchaos

[astremourante]

popping in to say i still think about you all and i miss u dearly.... but i may not ever be back to write consistently.... because im super cool and drive a motorcycle now.

[astremourante]

that comeback was so ass.

forgive me. offline life is just so crazy and hectic, i really barely have any time to be on here. but i still love and miss y'all.

[dutyworn]

Wren has been a soldier her entire adult life. She’s trained as the highest rank of special forces. It’s rare, reaching N7, and she’s a Spectre... was all that, anyway. But those skills don’t disappear the same way her record does. So why is she missing her mark? Letting a most-wanted-list assassin not only evade her but to ridicule her like this? Sinclair’s not flirting, she’s taunting. It’s not attractive. Totally, really, and Wren’s not lying to herself. Nope.

Gods, she’s self-sabotaging like mad.

❝ Noted, ❞    she says, still again as they both ready for their next move. Nevermind that she’s taken apart her own pistol.    ❝ I know what you’re doing and it’s not gonna work on me. I’ve taken down people you couldn’t even imagine. And you think you’re gonna distract me by flirting? ❞

She moves, then, pretending to strike a little to the left, only to change course the last moment, to throw the assassin off her game. She sweeps Sinclair off her feet, and herself as well, brings them tumbling down on the concrete. Wren’s on top of Sinclair, but the latter’s facing her, and she needs to turn her to cuff her.

[astremourante]

The assassin already knows she is allowing an exchange with an enemy go too long; it would be better to take her leave now, to escape, and melt into the shadows live to see, and fight another day. Instead, Amelia stays firmly planted where she is, not too far from the woman who seeks to capture her, but not close enough to make it easy, either. It is a game now, and Amelia loves to play.

The assassin's body is loose; she is not tensed to feint, dodge, or strike, she simply waits ⸻ intrigued, but always engaged, but only to react. She has no interest whatsoever in killing her, not until it became a necessary evil.

❝ Distract you ? ❞ She sounds shocked for a moment, pursing her lips. ❝ I thought we were just having a casual conversation ? ❞ It melts back into an easy grin, brow lifted, ego glowing. ❝ Why, is it working ? ❞

Her arrogance is her downfall, reacting too quickly to Wren's feint and she's caught in the agent's momentum. They roll across the concrete and Amelia now peers up. She is at the disadvantage, but still, she grins. ❝ You're really so desperate to get on top of me that you're skipping all the foreplay ? I'm flattered. ❞ Wren is too busy with handcuffs and trying to get her into the right position, that she is not paying enough attention to Amelia's legs, or hips.

Knees tighten around Wren's hips, thrusting her own upwards to throw the agent off balance, before turning to slam her to the side, rotating positions so Amelia is now the one looking down. She twirls Wren's handcuffs around her fingers playfully, before tossing them far enough away so they couldn't be a problem. She also had no interest in being captured today. ❝ I prefer to be on top, though. ❞

@lanternlit

[astremourante]

◟ ✶ ┊ 𝙊𝙋𝙀𝙉

❝ Okay, hear me out ⸻ ❞

❝ I think we should just blow it up ! There. Done. Problem solved ! ❞

[astremourante]

✶ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱 ⸻ @bruz3r

She may very well not even exist; Amelia was left blinking dumbly behind him, bewildered by his response as her brain attempted to process the information he didn't share. Urgency set her into action, turning quickly on her heel to pursue him, though she wasn't quite sure what that action is. The skin on her palms began to vibrate, uncertain how to use them to help him.

Her brow is furrowed, lips twisted into a snarl. ❝ Bruce ! ❞ She doubted her demand would cut through the intensity of his focus, so she reached out a hand, but it faltered as it got close ⸻ Amelia is uncertain of the extent of his damage, and she did not want to cause more harm ⸻ despite the fact he had just ignored her, but he would be punished for that later.

❝ BRUCE !! ❞ Panicked, at a loss of further action, and without a single brain cell, she decided to smack her hand against his backside, hoping to claim is attention. ❝ Will you stop for just one fucking second !? ❞

[lindscys]

amelia  sinclair,  @fatalhymn  said  ❝ you're  not  allowed  to  be  busy,  you're  my  only  friend. ❞

❝  i  want  to  say  i'm  surprised,  but  ––  ❞  there  was  something  of  an  affection  behind  her  words,  grown  to  actually  enjoy  the  company  of  the  other  woman  somewhat.  when  she  wasn't  turning  up  bloodied  and  bruised  at  her  doorstep,  that  was.  more  like  a  feral  street  cat  she'd  grown  accustomed  to  feeding  every  now  and  then.  still,  sometimes  the  company  was  better  than  being  alone.

❝  maybe  you  could  ––  i  don't  know,  binge  a  new  series  on  netflix?  go  and  get  some  food,  take  a  pilates  class?  you  know,  what  regular  people  do  on  a  thursday  evening.  ❞  though  even  she  knew  that  amelia  probably  didn't  know  the  meaning  of  the  word  regular.

[astremourante]

Amelia was one step toward a tantrum; the only thing holding her back is the fact she'd been waiting to see Erin this whole time, and the detective would hardly want to keep an assassin around who only wanted to scream and whine; so she allows herself a single stomp of her foot, arms folded stubbornly across her chest. The assassin had lost count of how long had she just been sitting here at Erin's doorstep.

Amelia does not answer well Erin's suggestions. Besides; it is better to react than to simply answer; sure, but that stuff would be a lot more fun with you. ❝ You're not even going to thank, or praise me for not BREAKING IN ?! What the fuck ! ❞ Amelia throws her hands up in her frustration now, a scowl twisting the pout right off her face. ❝ What's even the point of listening to what you tell me to do!? ❞

@lindscys

[astremourante]

i unfortunately got a 3d printer the week of my comeback

[astremourante]

✶ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱 ⸻ @pttrnminds

Even with her prey dead at her feet, Amelia did not smile at Kazuki as she usually did. Eyes flickered rapidly back and forth across his face, doing quite the same as him ⸻ assessing; attempting to gauge the level of suspicion the act had caused. She almost regretted it, but Amelia knew what she would be taking him from the end of all of this.

She'd been independent for so long now, that it shamed her how easily she could revert back to the dutiful servant; but she'd been born to die, and built to serve. Regardless of the silent war raging endlessly between them, there were still rules to this world that must be adhered to. While everyone may all be pawns in the grand scheme of her ambitions, Amelia still knew her place in the hierarchy. While she may sleep beneath his father, Kazuki was still above her.

The assassin regarded the prince with a vague lift of her chin; surely he must understand his own place ⸻ and that his father would not live forever, and everything would be left to him once he passed; that one day, he would be king. Kazuki seemed to be ruled so strongly by his honour, that he forgot that he would be the one to rule someday. Sooner than he may think.

❝ Perhaps, but mon petie prince should not get his hands dirty. ❞ The corner of her mouth lifted now, and despite the mocking tone, it was a lesson she hardly believed she had to teach him. She held her ground as he jabbed his finger firmly into her sternum, as if it was a stake he could drive right through.

❝ You ⸻ ❞

Amelia raised a single brow, waited for him to finish. He pressed closer, and there was a brief moment where she almost hesitated, when the tips of their noses brushed, and she could taste the anger and heat on his breath. Wildly, she wondered if he meant to kiss her, but it is so unlike him to lose control that the proximity is unexpected.

But then he stepped back, and the tension shattered. The assassin was bewildered to discover that she is disappointed, but doesn't move, nor does she react, maintaining a lazy smirk. She wants to laugh in his face when he inquires about her well-being, but she can hardly ruin the facade she'd been working so hard to keep any more than she already had.

❝ Hurt ? You're not worried about me, are you Kazu-chan ?❞

@pttrnminds

[elektra616-ar]

débora nascimento in flor do caribe

[ptternminds]

He can hear his own soul piece itself back together on the exhale he releases at the absolution of her calling him beautiful.

He doesn't care for the compliment on its own. There is so much Ajay is, outwardly, inwardly, that deserves so many descriptors of the likes usually reserved for divine creatures born from fire to test the human heart for the presence of evil by setting examples to follow. 'Beautiful' will never make it on that list.

'Beautiful' makes no sense.

But it doesn't really have to, when she says it. Because the word itself doesn't matter as much as the idea she found it somewhere within her to use it for him. It matters so much more, when he lets it rest on his tongue like a drop of burning gold whenever he meets her eyes and doesn't have the courage to call her by it.

And now? It simply feels like what the water in Jesus' cup must have felt like, shortly before it turned to wine.

If he could stay right here, like this, forever, and mold himself into whatever shape would be easiest for her to hold, he would. It would be the kind of absolution he isn't deserving of but will take if she considers him good enough to take it.

Which is why her question doesn't make any sense.

It cuts through him, like a scar suddenly there in the middle of the thumb of the pater dragging salvation over his forehead. Kneeling at her altar, drenched in his own sweat from the running it took him to even want to make it this far, he lifts his head and stares at her.

"Do you think I could?"

He sounds confused. Something between surprised and uncertain. A little foolish for even being asked to have to find an answer. It would be a test, no? Had anyone else asked him. And he would have scrambled to sound certain when delivering his rehearsed answer.

But he's never even entertained him leaving her as reality. He can't rehearse an answer to a question that doesn't exist in his mind, the question if he might beckon a reality into existence he himself couldn't live in.

"Where would I go without you?"

Does she even get it?

He grabs her hands, pulls her off his face to have more space to breathe directly into hers, just close enough to be tethered, but far enough to not go cross-eyed.

"How would I survive it?"

[astremourante]

Ajay has never given her any reason to doubt, and she doesn't. The question sounds foolish the moment it spills from her lips, clumsy, unsure. She'd never actually given thought to him leaving, because Amelia could hardly stand the ache that throbbed from the inside out to even imagine it. Giving the fear life by speaking it's name though, doesn't seem to have much of an affect at all. Maybe it would have hurt more if she'd spoken it to another, but it just feels ridiculous to ask him ⸻ Amelia feels Ajay's devotion like her own heartbeat.

His own confusion proved further, how ludicrous her inquiry had been ⸻ she thinks it is Ajay's own, kind version of saying: are you stupid ? But he would never call, or think of her in such a way.

❝ No, ❞ she answers back softly, and it's a painfully arrogant thing to say. But with the question laid bare, she can see just as clearly the answer. Amelia trusted Ajay with every fibre of her being; to protect her, to care for her, and to stay. Now, it simply seems as if she'd asked for her own vanity, just to hear the answer.

It comforts her regardless, causes her heart to swell in a way she fears it would implode inside of her chest. Such a lovely and delicate way to perish, and she would so gladly go. Her smile is soft, tension she'd been holding since childhood melting from her shoulders.

❝ Thank you. ❞ It is such an abrupt thank you, but the words are heavy with her gratitude, with her affection. She rests her forehead against his, before letting their noses touch and she sighs against his lips. ❝ I think you saved me ⸻ ❞ Despite the tenderness of the moment, the corner of her mouth quirks up in amusement. ❝ I guess you really are a decent bodyguard. ❞

@ptternminds

[sanatoris]

The play unfolds before him, not blinded by the folds anymore. Their body language is of contradiction and loss. This is the worst type of danger: the unpredictable one. One minute they are spitting fire, promises of ending life, the next they are introducing themself like nothing happened prior. He shall be more careful, more obedient, less argumentative. It shows the minute they demand an answer. Their warning is fair and appreciated so he doesn’t flinch at the touch unnecessarily. ❝ Yes. ❞ He announces, a promise not to try anything stupid, but never not to try to save himself; a human’s first instinct in danger.

His hands are finally free, it feels like a thousand pounds have been lifted off them, wrists burning and bruised with how tight the restrains have embraced his skin, along with his failed attempts to free them, his struggle. He has to flinch a little at his own touch, and so he decides to rest them onto his lap, resisting the urge to stand, staying seated, waiting for instructions; unannounced movements could get him killed, punched in best scenarios.

❝ Are you going to let me go? ❞ Of course not, and he knows it, but there is no harm in feigning ignorance, pleading his case for the judge to decide his fate. Not the fairest of them, no. ❝ I have patients who need me. ❞ He has always hated to announce it, but they actually do; his MIRACULOUS hands are the ones those people have chosen to try to cure them, they have put all of their trust in them, it would eat on him alive to let them down, not without trying, at least. ❝ I can see that I’m not what you’re looking for. ❞ He avoids using a ‘who’ in an attempt to not trigger the worst in them again.

[astremourante]

Even after he agreed, she waited a moment ⸻ scanning his face, his body, taking note of any tension just in case he had secret intentions of action. When Amelia was satisfied, she was surprisingly gentle while working at the binding. The assassin possessed no desire to cause further harm to what appeared to just be a victim; a casualty in the endless battles waging in the shadows between the world's worst monsters.

Amelia watched him touch at his wrists, rubbed raw, and her lips parted as she almost tells him that she'll help him ⸻ but quickly realized just how stupid that would sound to a doctor. She bit down on her bottom lip, and swallowed her idiocy, but her mouth was still full of it when he asked if she'd let him go.

She can only answer with silence, brow furrowed and lips curled downward. The thought of holding someone captive left a sour taste in her mouth; as monstrous as Amelia was, there were some things even she didn't have the stomach for. It felt even worse when he brought up his patients; she didn't was to think of innocent people dying or suffering because of her.

❝ You're not what I'm looking for, no, ❞ she answered tensely, choking on the defeat. ❝ But you're what he was looking for. ❞ The only lead she had. Amelia folded her arms over her chest, looking at him intently, wondering if cold logic would numb him to the sting a little less. ❝ He'll kill you, you know? Once he's finished using all his painful little tricks, if you haven't already spilled your guts, he'll kill you. ❞

As unpredictable and untrustworthy Amelia knew herself to be as an option, she thought it was still better than either of those. She grit her teeth, frustrated herself by the lack of choices. ❝ Felix, you can't go home ⸻ ❞ and she nearly chokes on the next part, hoping the prison of her teeth wouldn't allow it to escape to be heard; she suddenly feels incredibly sick. ❝ I am sorry. ❞

@sanatoris

[ptternminds]

"You."

Hermes is standing directly in front of her in the fraction of a moment it takes for a mortal cell to live, split itself, and die, an endless cycle of life and death of such unwatchable size Hermes has always found it among his favourites, processes humans forget to be eternally part of.

He's bent to force his entire face into her field of vision.

The answer seems so obvious, why does she keep feeling the need to wonder? What else could he possibly want from her that no one else could give? He is patron of riches and conquests, the great explorers and devourers of the world alternate between him and his siblings when choosing whom to pray to for safe travels, and big bounties.

No, the only thing Amelia can give him that can't be found anywhere else, in all the nooks and crevices of the world he knows like the back of his hand and doesn't venture into because he doesn't care, is Amelia.

"Don't play dumb," he whispers. He appreciates calculated stupidity as much as the next thief, when Odysseus had cheated his way through 20 years of war, he'd praised and rooted for him for every bit of feigned anything he'd offered to his opponents. He'd stopped when he'd given Polyphemus his name, and all the times he'd lost.

He doesn't appreciate real stupidity, unless it is dancing for him to make him laugh.

He straightens his back, towers briefly with his hands clasped behind him, as per agreement, as per concessions depending on who you ask. He wouldn't even put her on a leash. Much like Dionysus had wanted Ariadne for every fibre of her being that was entirely her, and had made her wife to throne next to him during his festivities, he doesn't intend to command or own.

He just wants.

Perhaps, the real issue is, Hermes himself doesn't know how to translate 'you' into anything Amelia could actually give him to satisfy him.

He likes the way she talks. He likes the way she kills. He likes the look of her knuckles and the callouses of her trigger finger, abused for years. He likes the way she feigns being mundane so well, when she moves about her home and does chores of all things.

He likes the way she says his name, the ease of endearment, he likes the way he's never managed to quite kill the distrust she still must harbour for him somewhere, that he can't ever hope to squash her awareness of both herself, rotten as it is, and him.

He relaxes into frivolous and energetic, moving away from her with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if the very syllables putting her words together were nonsensical from the moment they'd first been designed as sounds to speak together.

"Of course you can just go to France," he continues, picking and plucking items and lights, like someone who respects you enough to put everything back in its place, but not enough to not touch every corner of your home at his own discretion.

"I helped Perseus kill Medusa, trust me when I say I can help you past customs," he turns to perform a half bow, fingers resting over where his heart supposedly beats. "God of Travellers and Crossroads, Amelia. Easiest thing I'd be doing."

[astremourante]

Amelia has gotten used to his shifts; how quickly he can move, to be in one place and then the next before her body can command her heart to take a beat. Maybe it is because she is already vulnerable, a closed wound prodded one too many times and turned tender, but her body jerks backwards; flinching at his proximity, and the taste of shame fills her mouth.

"Don't play dumb,"

But the rate which Amelia can turn from victim to vicious is probably a quicker shift than even Hermes could ever manage. Eyes narrow and her lips lift as she bares gritted teeth in a snarl. From frightened pup to rabid dog; because she exists as both simultaneously. ❝ Don't call me that. ❞ He had not called her anything; but truthfully, she'd only heard the word dumb ⸻ and she already downs in a pool of inferiority. It does not help that his statement exists in the same moment that she is questioning what he wants.

She receives no tangible answer, truly just insult to an already bleeding injury. He moves jovially across the kitchen tile while she is left locked, tense and raging. Amelia has half a mind to unload the gun hiding in the cutlery drawer directly into his chest, but even her temper can't justify the waste of bullets, and her neighbours generally think of her as a delight; she'd hate to ruin that on account of Hermes being an idiot.

Slowly, she reaches her hands up to gently massage her temples, applying pressure to the growing headache throbbing through her skull. Hermes somehow managed activate both fight and flight inside of her; Amelia felt as if she was being ripped in half. Taking a deep breath, she focused on reminding herself who Hermes was; that he was a god, something she could never hope to comprehend, the way the heart of a wolf could never comprehend that of a rabbit.

It is a difficult gap to cross, and Amelia feels her patience stretched thin, treaded on by his giant godly feet. Of course, Hermes can hardly take a moment to consider where he steps when she casts a shadow across all her broken pieces scattered on the floor. But it feels so much better to blame him for not understanding her pains, and weaknesses, than to help him understand them.

❝ More like God of Idiots and Motherfuckers to me, ❞ she sneers with a mutter, practically spitting at his offer of service. ❝ Arrogant god, did you ever stop to think that I already have everything I need ? ❞

@ptternminds

[lindscys]

it wouldn't be a surprise that erin didn't believe amelia in the slightest, but that was hardly the priority. neither was dealing with the fact that her doorstep had become a replacement for an emergency room, but that was also something that she'd have to figure out another time. for now, she had to make sure at the very least that the brunette wasn't about to bleed out in her apartment.

"get in here." she stepped aside, quickly ushering her into the living space, to avoid any nosy neighbours from perhaps trying to intervene for themselves. "i care about my reputation, and having you die on my welcome mat isn't going to do anything for that." the door closed, and it didn't take long before the detective was moving around her apartment, gathering supplies from wherever she could muster. "you've gotta be honest with me about how you got in this mess."

[astremourante]

❝ I know it looks bad, but you could at least pretend to be happy to see me. ❞ She limps inside the apartment and very nearly collapses once she crossed the threshold. Amelia had been grasping onto the last of her strength, but she couldn't manage to hold on any longer ⸻ maybe because she felt safe enough to let herself be weak. In front of a cop ? She would have laughed if it wouldn't have made her condition worse. Leaning against the wall with her better side, cleaner side, she slides down as not to crash, legs unable to keep her standing.

The assassin rolls her eyes, trying to manage a sigh, but it makes her entire chest ache. Amelia is aware of the predicament she's put Erin in, and she supposed an explanation was the very least of what the detective deserved for coming to her for help ⸻ but fuck, she was so tired and sore.

❝ Not really... in the best state for storytelling, ❞ Amelia mutters, which is the truth. ❝ You'll have to be satisfied with my witty repertoire for now. I'll tell you if I don't die ⸻ ❞ and she wiggles her pinky enticingly. ❝ Pinky promise. ❞

@lindscys

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES *  assorted dialogue for eerie situations, adjust as necessary 👻

where have you been? i've been looking all over for you.

where did you find that?

that wasn't here before.

that's it! i'm leaving!

i came back for you.

do you do this often?

if you didn't do it, who did?

i think we're being watched.

did that painting just move?

the locals say this place is haunted.

follow me, and stay quiet.

we need to get to the bottom of this.

something weird is going on.

i don't like the look of this.

this is the last time i listen to you.

i think you should see this.

there's no service in here.

where did it go? it was right here five seconds ago.

did you hear that?

this place is cursed.

they say someone died in here.

i'm not staying here another second.

do you smell something?

get in here! now!

we're supposed to be the only ones here.

those were footsteps.

someone else is here.

last one out's a rotten egg!

who made that noise?

i don't believe in that stuff.

the light's not working.

my battery is dead.

we should split up.

it's too late!

you came back for me?

is that blood?

no way. i'm not doing this alone.

we need to stick together.

hello? is anyone here?

i'm getting out of here!

the locals don't like this place.

looks like we're stuck here for the night.

that place looks creepy.

i don't like the look of this place.

who made that noise?

i don't believe in ghosts.

i'm getting the hell away from this place.

do you get the feeling we're being watched?

that's impossible.

i'm not going into the creepy basement alone.

what is wrong with you?

hurry! get inside!

there's no such thing as coincidences.

i'm not going first. you go.

any volunteers?

not sure we're supposed to be here.

come on! it'll be fun!

remind me never to come with you.

the door's locked! we're trapped!

hide! in here!

no way. i'll stay right here.

you keep watch.

i can't take another second of this.

are you thinking what i'm thinking?

when did this happen?

it's getting dark. we should camp here for the night.

i've heard stories about this place.

i'm not sticking around to find out.

this is bad. this is very bad.

i thought i lost you!

we need to put an end to this.

do you believe in ghosts?

we shouldn't have come here.

let's try the back door!

oh great. a creepy basement.

you go first.

this was your idea.

i don't want to die!

don't be such a scaredy cat.

where does this door lead?

come out, come out, wherever you are!

how did i let you drag me into this?

remind me never to come back.

that was quick thinking.

so that's it?

nothing's going to happen! trust me!

i can't believe you talked me into this.

you owe me big time.

they told me to stay away.

this isn't what i signed up for.

you never told me this would happen.

trust me. i'll get us out.

i think we're stuck.

[dogspouse]

YES its a knife in my pocket, AND im happy to see you. both can be true.

[bruz3r]

He hadn’t noticed the desperation at first. Not until it was staring right at him. And he knows how to spot a wounded animal from a mile away. He doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t fight her. Doesn’t even think of giving way for any of her suspicions or worries to find root. 

He’s steady. Forceful. Heavy in her grasp as he stepped closer. Closing in on her. Cornering her with his arms settling around her middle. A small smile perking up at his lips even as she seems to close in on herself. 

Terror written in her bones even as he clutched her to him. Breathing her in for a selfish moment before he tilted his head and caught her eyes staring up at him. The smile stretched a little wider. Cradled carefully on his lips ; pinned there just for her. 

“ Well, “ he leaned closer. Forehead resting against hers as their noses lightly brushed against each others. “ I’m here. “ 

     [ ₁ ] He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

[astremourante]

Amelia only felt herself relax when his arms wrapped around her; tight, secure, and something warm bloomed from the center of her chest, spreading to the tips of her fingers. Her arms quickly snaked around him, trying to control her own desperate devotion so her grip didn't snap him right in half. He felt whole, safe, and familiar. Her frown disappeared in an instant, unable to stifle the smile of relief, as she nuzzled into him.

As comfortable and safe as she felt nestled so close to Bruce, Amelia pulled herself back only slightly, just to keep looking at him; to see him. The smile that stretched across his face made her heart feel things she never thought possible. It began to race, and the blood rose to her cheeks, embarrassed by herself, and her own vulnerability. Quickly, she set a stubborn pout on her lips, cheeks puffing slightly. Amelia is glaring up at him now; but there is no anger, just resolute adoration.

❝ Good, ❞ she grunts, then puffs out her chest, as if trying to appear bigger, scarier, to take out some of the sincerity of her words, but she still can't help but avert her gaze as she says them. ❝ Even if you do... I'll go too. I'll follow you. ❞

@bruz3r