astranxmica

You’re not going anywhere

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          venom  burns  down  his  throat:   a  sharp  taste   /   acidic  'gainst  his  insides.   ire’s  become  an  ABODE  to  him   (   such  a  familiar  feeling ,    it’s  almost  saccharine   ).   sirens  go  off  in  his  mind ,    a  desperate  plea  to  find  escape.   he  FLINCHES:   regrets  and  ignores ,    a  baited  breath  slipping  off  his  tongue   /   it’s  heavy ,    drawn  out ,     and  shaking.   glance  thrown  to  the  assassin’s  lithe  fingers  curled  'round  his  wrist ,    he  stares  at  it  until  it’s  BURNING  HOLES  behind  his  eynes   (   until  it’s  the  only  OFFENSIVE  thing  on  his  mind   )   and  so  he  decides:   leather  fingers  wrap  around  one  of  hers   /   bending  it  back   /   satisfying  BONE  CRACKING  sound  on  his  ears   /   glance  falls  onto  her  features:     ❛     that’s  all  i’m  going  to  do ,    because  we’re  FRIENDS ,    but  don’t  ever  touch  or  tell  me  what  to  do    or  we’ll  see  just  how  friendly  i  can  be.     ❜

mockingxcanary:   meme   |   accepting.

 



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                    words   are   just   NOISE   in   her   ear,     she   can’t   understand   it,     doesn’t   want   to   understand   it,     or   him.     one   hand   comes   to   pin   the   man   underneath   her   by   the   neck   as   the   other   grabs   his   wrist     ;     T W I S T I N G   it   out     &&     away   from   her   collarbone.     she   can   feel   the   tendons   shifting   under   her   fingertips     &&     that   feeling,     that   P O W E R,     is   exactly   what   she   CRAVED.     she   needed   to   make   the   man   under   feel   pain,     terror,     HORROR,     before   she   killed   him.     it’s   what   she   needed   to   do     —————     what   she   WANTED   to   do.     she   leans   in   closer,     bared   teeth   merely   inches   from   the   man’s   face   before   a   low   growl   RUMBLES   through   her   chest.     ❝     you   will   D I E.     ❞

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         a  screams  tears  at  his  throat:   RIPPED  RAW   /   RED   /   rotted  eroded.   lungs  ache,   had  been  lit  on  fire.   amaranth  lips  jowl:   ruddy  and  waxen.   lachrymose  stains  in  the  CORNERS  of  his  eyes,   brined  tears  stinging  redden  eynes.     ❛     PLEASE   ——     ❜     it’s  a  foreign  sensation:   begging  'pon  his  tongue.   a  SILENT  WHIMPER  breathes  across  ivory  rows  of  teeth.   timbre  SNAPPED  underneath  recreancy   (   or  was  it  the  fact  that  you  are  ENAMORED  by  her?   a  deep  love  sitting  in  your  heart?   it’s  not  cowardice  of  you  to  not  pull  the  trigger:   so  let  her   –   claw  at  you,   kill  you   ).     ❛     i’m  not  going  to  HURT  you,   sara.     ❜

 



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                    SHE   CAN’T   FIGHT   IT,     SHE   CAN’T   FIGHT   IT,     SHE   CAN’T   FIGHT   IT.     the   first   word   that   leaves   the   man’s   lips   in   front   of   her   has   her   stilled.     she’s   no   longer   hitting   her   head   against   the   wall,     no   longer   doing   anything.     she   can’t   FEEL   anything.     when   he   asks   his   question,     hollow   eyes     (     once   blue,     now   D U L L     &&     nearing   black     )     look   up   at   him.     KILL,     KILL,     KILL.     a   fire   R A G E S   inside   of   her,     &&     now   all   she   can   feel   is   anger,     pain,     fear.     she   stays   in   her   position   for   a   few   seconds   before   she   springs   like   a   panther,     jumping     &&     grabbing   the   man   by   his   shirt,     tackling   him   to   the   floor   with   an   animalistic   S N A R L.

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           rorulent  bathes  itself  into  a  partial  layer  across  skin.   CAREFUL,   hesitant  fingers  bring  themselves  outward:   wanting  to  HOLD   /   TOUCH   /   see  if  she’s  okay.   alamort  glance  causes  PANIC,   causes  nerves  to  run  wild  and  eyes  to  narrow.     ❛     sara   —–     ❜     her  name  is  like  a  GHOST  on  his  tongue:   barely  meeting  the  surface  of  the  world  before  he’s  attacked.   head  hitting  the  ground,   limned  spots  decorate  vision  behind  eyes.   a  STRANGLED  breath  ripped  from  barren  lungs  as  he  processes  and  calculates.     ❛     stop   –   stop,   this  isn’t  you!     ❜     sphygmic  paralyze:   he  thinks  to  REACT,   one  arm  thrown  up  to  press  against  her  collarbone  in  hopes  to  DISTANCE,   the  war  child  inside  of  him  reaching  for  his  gun  in  a  sense  of  DEFENSE   (   but   everyone  knows  you  wont  pull  the  trigger  if  it  meant  causing  her  pain   ).

 



HOVER
❛ Leonard Snart, robber of atms! ❜

independent, selective, mutuals only leonard snart from cw's the flash and legends of tomorrow.

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