𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌 & 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚

𝑖'𝑚 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒, 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢

[fatalhymn]

moved and rebranded (sort of)

[lykaiia]

amelia wondering about ly's location: wherewolf???

Ly, appearing: there wolf!

[fatalhymn]

Arms thrown around the redhead's neck, Amelia lets all her weight collapse against her. Chin tilted up, her freckled nose wrinkles as she grins wide.

❝ Oh, you came when you were called, what a good girl. ❞

[fatalhymn]

open

❝ Well ⸻ ❞

❝ Now we have to fight. ❞

[elektra616-ar]

débora nascimento in flor do caribe

[clawsextended]

her pupils are blown so wide that there’s no touch of that soft brown whatsoever. bloodied red marks leave trace evidence on her cheeks, and her eyeblack contrasts somehow more darkly, more frightfully with the bright color.

hey. the words make her attention drift, cause her breathing to hitch hard in her chest. she’s eight years old again, the sight of her mother spilled wide, that eviscerated trail of sticky red. it’s fine, she’s used to it being fine, but something tickles hard at her brain. the nonchalance claws at her — she cares too much. and all she can see is that death, again and again and again.

“you fucking idiot,” she trips over her words, cinching her throat closed how they do, “you fucking idiot you fucking idiot.

—i hate you, god, i hate you, you fucking idiot, this is the fucking opposite of funny, you fucking, fucking idiot.”

and yet, she makes no room to seal the quaver in her voice, doesn’t step back. she remains.

[fatalhymn]

Amelia is many things; a fucking idiot ? Definitely, definitely that one. Her face starts to pale, not from bloodloss, but the guilt that makes her sick, as Selina's panic rolls over her like the tide overcoming the shore. The cat truly has no idea what's happening, what will happen, and what won't happen. Bottom lip drops, blinking dumbly⸻ she'd hoped the humor would have offered the cat some comfort, just to give the assassin enough time to gather herself to explain that a fatal wound, to her body, isn't quite so fatal.

She should have told her earlier; but it's a shame Amelia hates to talk about.

❝ Selina, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Selina, I'm FINE ⸻ ❞ Her voice is louder now, to echo over the rushed, trembling words. She abandons the thief's cheeks to wrap her arms tightly around the cat, bringing her in painfully close; close enough, that Selina can feel the steady, powerful thrum of Amelia's heart. Proof of life. The pressure helps hold the flesh closed, and it burns and itches at the same time while it seals.

Her lips are steady at the cat's ear. ❝ I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm not... normal ⸻ it'll be okay. I'll be okay, pinky promise. I'm here. I'm still here. ❞

[sanatoris]

They are right; he is in no position to turn the table and take the role of the investigator, it’s theirs. They are not stable, or that what their reaction gives off, and so he shall not be defying their demands unless utterly necessary. The emotion MONSTER in front of him is in no need of further aggravation and poking. Part of him figures he might be needed, or so they think, or else he might have ended up the same as everyone else around, hell even like one of the broken objects if they so wished, they seem capable of it.

Saved you. Yes, they actually spared him further torture, but he can’t be certain it’s a chivalrous act if the one following it immediately is so THREATENING, so VIOLENT. His plan now is to avoid resistance unless necessary, and so he proceeds, facial expression unchanged. ❝ Felix Malvado. A neurosurgeon. ❞ A small sigh, he hopes this is enough for now, almost begs the heavens for them not to demand knowledge on one of his patients just like the ones they have just saved him from, or it all will fall back into the same long act.

[fatalhymn]

Standing there, trembling fists clenched so tightly that her nails bite into the skin of her palms, Amelia realizes how much she wants to hear him refuse her; to give her the excuse needed so her rage can finally find a home. Every inch of her is tense, like a bullet waiting to be fired, and she almost begs him for the reason. But he answers instead; easily, quickly ⸻ it was not what she wanted, nor expected, and even worse... he is a doctor ⸻ a goddamned Derek Sheperd, apparently.

Her momentum now has nowhere to go, and it's like she's hit with the recoil of all her tension, stumbling backward from him. ❝ What ? ❞ Her voice now sounds shockingly small, all authority lost, as she struggles to put together a puzzle that has no pieces. She had misread the situation and now there are more questions, than answers ⸻ but there is only one question she really cares about.

Where is her father ?

❝ Shit. Shit. Fuck ! ❞ Turning quickly, she kicks whatever is closest, and it sails across the room, hitting the wall. Hands run anxiously through her hair as she turns starts looking wildly around the room, as if she'll somehow find him.

... But it's just her and Felix. And the corpses, of course.

Amelia bites on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. What is she going to do ? She is no closer to her goal, and this man is the last person to have anything to do with her father... but she'd finished his men before they could get what they needed. Her foot taps, thoughtful for a moment, before throwing a glance to him over her shoulder.

Her father probably isn't done with him; so she can't be either. She sighs, and turns to face him. ❝ My name is Amelia, ❞ she finally says, sounding calmer now, and she hopes the introduction offers him some comfort. The assassin also hopes he doesn't realize that now she's given her name, she can't just let him go.

Approaching slowly, she reaches for his bindings. ❝ I'm going to untie you, but I want you to know that you will regret trying anything after I do, got it ? ❞

[fatalhymn]

going thru a lot right now. miss u guys, thanks for always waiting around on me 😔

[miidnighters-a]

They come to a stop, Amelia sighs--

And Morgan makes a sound like a particularly sad deflating balloon.

"You literally said I know how to get there let's go this way." He does not do her the disservice of imitating her voice, but the temptation is right there. Ultimately, Morgan knows he would have followed a pretty woman if she'd told him to anyway, and with the way she's pouting right now, Amelia gets her wish and he doesn't get mad.

"C'mon, let's see if Google Maps can figure us out."

[fatalhymn]

❝ I say a lot of shit ! ❞ Is what Amelia's first defense is, arms crossing over her chest as her bottom lip curls stubbornly. ❝ And I was only 85% sure I knew the way, why did you just believe me ? ❞ Because this whole thing is entirely his fault, obviously, not hers, for instigating and leading them in the wrong direction for an unnecessarily long time.

Her cheeks puff, filled with air and she's ready to double down ⸻ but he does not, and Amelia attempts to decipher if she had won or not; she can't decide so needs to instigate further. ❝ You really should have just used Google Maps first. ❞

[sanatoris]

All his ears can perceive are the breaking of glass, instruments thrown into the floor, tables pushed away or down, metal clanking, their curses and tantrums in ANGER and so much FRUSTRATION; they were supposed to find someone here, weren’t they? Obviously, that someone is not him, their loud disappointment evidence for it. They must have brought everything around him to an aftermath of chaos, and there he sits on a chair, tied, waiting for his fate at their hands. His resilience doesn’t break, one would think him trained. He is not.

I’m not going to hurt you.

Even if the words are promising, he doesn’t let them in; he will not be fooled, he will never let his guard down, his desire to break free and fight for his life. It is human nature, isn’t it? They reinforce their words with more reassurance, gentleness that one would swear couldn’t be possible for a possible killer. Yet, he does not allow it into his mind, it will not determine his actions. The blindfold falls down, slides off his skin onto his lap. It takes him a few blinks to be able to form a clear, full image of their visage. Bloody.

Who is he? Really? He? He doesn’t mock them, he doesn’t change a muscle in his face, almost expressionless. Rules are simple, the prey answers, the predator asks the questions. He does not play by the rules this time, not fully. ❝ Who are you? ❞ If he is going to get another punch for this, he is ready, at least he tried.

[fatalhymn]

Save for the tension lines the blindfold had pressed into his flesh, his face is pristine; if she didn't lower her eyes, Amelia would think him completely unharmed. His face is a blank canvas, but she can't help but find herself painting resolute stubbornness, especially when he responds with an inquiry of his own. He is in no position to ask anything, and he knows just as well. Amelia is in no mood to be pushed any farther tonight. Lips pull back to expose her teeth, glowering.

Maybe he's a drug dealer, maybe he's into human trafficking; both good enough reasons to eliminate him from existence, and she's almost cranky enough to go off assumption. She thrusts a hand out, barely suppresses the violence, and instead just jabs her finger angrily in his direction, as if it was a knife she was driving into his chest. ❝ I FUCKING ASKED YOU FIRST ! ❞ In the back of her head, Amelia vaguely recognizes that this will get her nowhere, but her rage burns too bright to see reason.

She has to remind herself it has nothing to do with the man in this chair, and he is the only link she currently has to what she truly wants. Amelia sucks in a breath, tries to find some calm in the storm. Whens he speaks again, her voice is tense.

❝ Look, pretty boy, the way I see it is I am the person who just saved you from further torture, and probably death, so I think I deserve a little cooperation. ❞

[fatalhymn]

@nursc

Amelia had never felt so cold in her life; it cut deeper than her bones, seeped into the very fabric of her flesh, as if turning her being to snow. She recognized the powerful magic a second too late, and the templar was frozen before she'd had time to utter a frustrated curse. Her hand is held out, but she does not move, chest and blood still as the silence; just another piece of decor for the mage's garden, the small cabin lost in the cover of darkness and trees.

Or, that's what the mage was able to think, for a solid 15 seconds, until Amelia's chest started to emit a warm orange glow, and then a cracking sound echoes off the tree. The fissures in the ice start at her cheek, and then quickly spreads, leaving trails in the ice until it shatters, snowing around her feet.

Amelia's lips are blue, her nose is red, and running down past her lips, and once she's free, all she can do is collapse to the ground, arms wrapped around herself as she violently shivers, body quickly trying to find heat and safety once more.

❝ Maker's BALLS, that is COLD !!!❞

[fatalhymn]

@clawsextended ⸻ ♥

She notices the eyes quite easily, a few meters away, locked harshly on every move Selina made. He was thinking, gauging the situation, and preparing an approach. Amelia feels bothered ⸻ though she cannot quite describe why; perhaps it is just something protective inside her, despite Selina being more than capable of handling herself, or anyone else who even looked at her wrong.

Perhaps she is simply protective of her night, knowing that if Selina were to exit or get distracted, her enjoyment would cease to exist. So, she doesn't think before acting, before staking claim. Her fingers are soft but firm, behind the curve of Selina's head, dragging her in to crush their mouths together, more than happy to smear and mix their lipstick.

When she glances back, the eyes are gone and Selina once again, belongs to her gaze alone.

[fatalhymn]

lays on amelia’s lap and begs for kisses

unprompted ⸻ always accepting

Her hand is placed gently on the center of Christine's chest, just to anchor her down and hold her back from what she so desperately sought. Lips pull into a satisfied smile, head tilting as she leans in closely, but not yet close enough for lips to make actual contact. Christine is always cute, but there's just something painfully delicious about the way she whines when Amelia denies her.

Green eyes rake across her face, down the length of her limbs and greed pools at the base of her stomach, and an angry sort of possession starts to twist inside of her. Amelia can only hold back for so long, palm sliding slowly between her breasts to softly wrap her fingers around Christine's pale throat, thumb tracing circles on her pulse. She smiles then, before leaning down, and giving her only one single meager peck.

❝ Say pretty please. ❞

@nursc

[fatalhymn]

i know my pinned post says sporadic activity but

*blows a hundred kisses to my moots who have stuck with me*

i love yall. you make my heart warm

[clawsextended]

“mad?! MAD?? no, I’m not FUCKING MAD! i am freaking the fuck out!”

she is in fact not mad, she is UPSET. she is TERRIFIED. she is BAD AT BEING FACED WITH THIS LEVEL OF MORTALITY. nausea rises in her throat — she goes through more than one feeling, and they ebb and flow, one to the other, one to the other. they move in waves and the first, second, third. fear, panic, and that grin on her face makes for anger, now she’s getting there. oscillating, actually, between rage and a nebulous, fatalistic concept of death. she has never really lost someone she loves. and fuck her, she doesn’t have the capacity to start.

her teeth click together hard and she goes from very red to phenomenally pale, alabaster in truth. her eyes flinch shut. she sways around like a soldier on a single boot.

“fuck —“

biiiiiiiiiiiig inhale. her nose harshly sucks a breath through, hand pressed tightly to her mouth.

“you stu—-“ DEEPER inhale, “stupid bitch. you do — you don’t even fucking warn me?”

[fatalhymn]

Amelia cannot mask her surprise when Selina answers.

She has seen the thief go through a myriad of emotions, but never once has the cat ever lost her cool; always prepared, never taken off guard, with a solution to every problem, and witty response to any quip that could possibly appear in the next hour.

Right now, she doesn't seem to know the answer to anything but panic, and something squeezes painfully inside Amelia's chest. She's not sure if it's guilt, or her insides slowly melting back together.

❝ Well... if I had the chance to warn you that I was gonna get stabbed like that, I probably would have just dodged it altogether to save us the trouble. ❞

Despite herself and the chaos all around them, the assassin softens, and gets serious. Her hands abandon her middle, despite slowing the healing process, but she can only focus on trying to take care of Selina. Fingers are covered in blood, but they are steady as she softly holds her cheeks. ❝ Hey, ❞ Amelia's voice is gentle, something sincere replacing the mischief in her smile. ❝ You're fine. I'm fine. We're fine. ❞

[fatalhymn]

[fatalhymn]

@unhirsch ⸻ call ♥

They are safe; for now, though Amelia doesn't know how long that will last. Her heart rate has remained calm throughout the chaos, but in the silence, it starts to throb wildly, beating so loud she'd think it was trying to lure the violence right back to them.

❝ Soooo.... ❞ She holds the vowel, thoughtful, quiet, as her eyes finally land on Eames. ❝ Do you think we're fucked ? Orrrr.... ❞

[fatalhymn]

@miidnighters ⸻ call ♥

She comes to an abrupt stop, purses her lips and sighs through her nose before her shoulders finally collapse. ❝ I actually have no idea where we're going. ❞ She hadn't for the majority of her leadership, but she'd been both too prideful and stubborn to admit it. The truth only falls from her tongue once Amelia started to worry they might not find what they're looking for.

Her bottom lip gets fat, hoping that looking pathetic will earn some mercy and patience, but has no patience of her own to see if it works, and rushes to a pitiful defence instead. ❝ It's not my fault. You shouldn't have been following me. ❞