raigash - Tumblr blog

[raigash]

[raigash]

The fact that enjolras got struck by 8 bullets to represent each member of les amis. why would victor hugo do that to us.

[raigash]

Piping Plover chicks

Meaghan Garrahan

[raigash]

“what’s your favorite type of music?”

me:

[raigash]

This is such a cute Picrew 🥺❤️ no pressure at all, but I’ll tag @salamancialilypad @that-one-thespian and @crash-bump-bring-the-whump , and an open invitation to anyone else who wants to participate!

i found a cool tag game on twitter and i really wanna import it (o^ ^o)

this picrew + the last song you listened to :]

no pressure tags: @blood-loving-leech @overtaken-boredom @lesbianthatyaps @kameonerd566 @hexedvampire @laczki @anonymous-shxtposter @fleurafae @flovqy + anyone who wants to do it <3

[raigash]

@raigash's birthday was this week so here's a birthday gift!! Robbie is so so cute, and I'm loving exploring his relationship with Mariano and Bastian. c:< IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR, I SWEAR IT DOES--

TWs: Blood, death, gore, grief

They'd been ambushed.

It wasn't the worst fight they'd been in. They'd been outnumbered, eleven to three. Robbie had been quick to draw the dagger they'd given him, darting into the fray with Mariano and Bastian right behind him.

He'd been fearless, a streak of earth-red hair and flashing metal as he wove between the bandit. Mariano danced with him, separating wrists from arms, the swipes of his blade sending bodies down to the dirt, never to get up again. Bastian glimmered as he ripped limbs from torsos, teeth like the night flashing as he brought them together around wrists.

It didn't even last very long.

After a quick check-in, where Robbie said he hadn't been hurt and Bastian laughed at the very idea of being injured, Mariano had felt more than comfortable continuing on. Robbie had been traveling long enough that he knew what he could or couldn't handle. If there was something serious, he'd speak up.

Surely, he would let them know if he needed medical attention. Mariano had told him about their emergency potions, and his medical kit. It was important that anyone with them know what their options were if an emergency came up.

Neither himself nor Bastian expected to find Robbie collapsed in the middle of their camp when they returned from their hunting and water gathering.

Sprawled on the ground, copper-bright hair trailing behind him in the setting sun, he looked like he'd just crumpled mid-step. Had they left someone alive to come back for revenge? There was no sign of a fight, though. Mariano sprinted over and traded the bundles of deer meat and bones for Robbie's limp form. This close, the smell of blood was too fresh to have been lingering gore from their fight.

He held Robbie's face with one hand, pinky and ring fingers pressed against his pulse point. Robbie's heart was beating too quickly, thready instead of strong. His chest rose and fell like a little bird's, shallow and too gentle. "Robbie, can you hear me?" Mariano tried, as Bastian dug around in his bag.

"Nn..." Robbie tried, the noise reedy and weak. Long lashes fluttered as unfocused brown eyes tried to lock onto Mariano's face. "No..."

"It's okay, it's not going to hurt you." Mariano soothed, glancing to where Bastian had finally pulled the glimmering vial. "It won't taste good, but it'll stabilize you until--"

One trembling hand cupped Mariano's cheek, feather-light touch redirecting his attention as blood smeared onto Mariano's skin. "Don't...don't waste it on...on me." Mariano opened his mouth to retort, to say that it wouldn't be a waste. If someone was breathing, if their heart still beat, the potion would help. A smile flashing over Robbie's face cut him off.

"I'll...I'll be back." He whispered. "...Promise."

"I..." Mariano didn't know what to say to that. He felt blood soaking into his pants, into his sleeves. "How..."

Bastian dropped to his knees beside Mariano, already getting the vial open. "Don't worry Robbie, we'll fix you right up." He said, voice dipping into a growl as he fought with the clasp. They'd gone to a new alchemist. He'd promised higher potency and better healing with these. He'd promised that the fancier bottles would keep the valuable liquid safe and stand up to harsher impacts.

"Bastian..." Robbie sighed, the hand at Mariano's face drifting to Bastian's hands. His bloody touch stilled the dragon. "Don't...just...just give me a few hours."

"Robbie, we don't have a few hours." Bastian argued, his attention going back to working the potion open. Robbie had already been too pale when they'd found him, now he looked almost translucent. They both knew he'd lost far too much blood already.

"Just...jus...just a..."

Mariano and Bastian felt the moment that Robbie fell still at the same time.

"No--" Bastian snarled, as Mariano held Robbie closer. One hand pressed Robbie's face into his chest, up against his own beating heart. They couldn't just slice the vial open, it risked glass getting into it, or the searing heat rendering the potion possibly ineffective. "This stupid, fucking--I'm gonna--"

Bastian finally got the potion open two minutes later.

They worked together to drip the shimmering liquid between Robbie's ashen lips. They waited, with bated breath, as the vial was emptied. Blood had stopped seeping from the wound in Robbie's side. The sun began to sink below the horizon, and Robbie lay motionless in Mariano's arms as he and Bastian washed the blood from his skin.

They only set up the fire that night to start preserving the venison.

"He said he'd be back." Mariano said in quiet argument when Bastian just watched him get enough blankets set out for the three of them. "He hasn't lied before."

Bastian didn't object to Mariano bringing Robbie's body to lie between them. Just one more night to lay curled around their unexpectedly sweet traveling partner. They'd give him a burial the next day. If he actually came back, that was even better.

Wrapping their arms around their Robbie, neither of them spoke as they drifted off.

Gasping and shuddering woke Mariano. The moon was high and bright, the night sky painted with swirls of stars. Their campfire had died down completely by then, barely any glow coming from the remaining wood. Bastian was drowsy, blinking awake in confusion.

Robbie was clutching at their arms. "M...Mariano? Bastian?"

His eyes were alert and looking around, and although the moonlight washed him out horribly, the strength in his hands was unmistakable. "Robbie," Mariano whispered, all traces of sleep erased from his mind. "We're here." His heart hammered in his chest, unwilling to believe just yet. "You...you came back."

Wide, bright brown eyes flicked to Mariano's face, brimming with tears. Robbie swallowed. "You...you gave me one of your...potions."

Mariano nodded. He couldn't tell what was swimming in Robbie's voice, but he did know that whatever it was, it wasn't anger. "We wanted you here. It was worth a try."

"You...you didn't...you..." Robbie's hands found one of Mariano's and one of Bastian's. He held them close, as though he had expected to be alone. "I..." He blinked, the tears finally starting to roll down the sides of his face, disappearing into his hair.

"Shh." Bastian muttered, shifting on Robbie's other side and pressing his face into the top of Robbie's head. "We're here. You're alive now." His clawed fingers pulled Robbie and Mariano closer to himself. "We have you."

Robbie shuddered, a hitching noise escaping when Mariano kissed his cheek. "You're safe." He whispered against Robbie's ear. Robbie's heart pounded against the arm he had wrapped around him. His own chest felt impossibly full. He couldn't stop smiling. "Rest."

None of them slept the rest of the night.

None of them moved until the sun was high in the sky the next day, and the hunger pangs were too loud to ignore.

[raigash]

[raigash]

rare vent art from a few months ago

[raigash]

[raigash]

a comic about different types of storytellers

[raigash]

caretaker also being a whumpee and having to deal with the recurring trauma from having to care for current whumpee.

bonus points if same whumper

[raigash]

Shroud

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Elze'ith struggles to find equilibrium. His Lord helps him along.

Contains: Intimate whump, aftermath of noncon, manipulation, dissociation, mind control, implied drugging

~~~

“I wanted this to be good for you, my light. You know that, don’t you? That’s all I ever want.”

“No matter what happens, I will always be willing to make you feel just like this.”

“So good for me, so perfect, just like you were always meant to be.”

His Lord’s words swirled around his mind like phantoms in the night, dark and covetous and cloying. There was comfort in those beautiful, terrible words, and he clung to them as desperately as he clung to his Lord’s hand. They made more sense than the maelstrom in his mind, were easier to focus on than the defiled agony that wracked his body.

Maybe, if he soaked in his Lord’s promises for long enough, they would come true. Maybe he would believe them. Maybe he would be able to reconcile the love that his Lord professed, the care that he showed, with the hurt he inflicted, the way he used him like a toy, the dread and despair he still sometimes inspired. Nothing about this was good, nothing about this was right, but he needed to find peace with it anyway.

What else could he do? Altair was all but lost to him now after all he had done and all he had failed to do. He had nothing left but this.

Everything ached. The pain went deep, past his muscles and bones to his very being. It was inescapable; as much as he tried to sink into the sensation of gentle fingers carding through his hair, the agony didn’t fade. He didn't think it ever would. There was no ignoring what had been done to him, with how it was written in blood across his skin, carved so deliberately into his mind.

The cascading words in his mind were joined by voices in the air around him, blurry and indistinct. The air shifted with magic, and though he was likely imagining things, he could have sworn he felt a familiar presence. Summoning his strength was the most difficult thing in the world, but he tried anyway, anxious to see who was there, what was happening.

The hand in his hair carded through more earnestly, steady and calming. There might have been a low shushing sound, or there might not have been, but he felt the quiet wash across his consciousness nonetheless. He sank into it readily, eager for the peace it offered, even as his urgent thoughts of someone else were delicately teased away from him. Within moments, he was utterly relaxed again, all memory of what had been troubling him gone like smoke on the wind.

He drifted for a while, serene and suffering, all sense of time utterly beyond his grasp. It wasn’t quite restful, but something close to it; a chance to breathe, perhaps. Regardless, he was grateful for the fleeting moment of tranquility. Grateful enough that when he was jolted back to himself by firm hands gently pulling him upright, he barely flinched, only the softest of whines leaving his throat. The movement sent fresh agony rippling through him, made his heart leap with fear of new miseries and violations, but the last thing he wanted to do was protest too much.

Something pressed up against his lips. He parted them dutifully; he knew his role. “That’s it, my light. Drink.” His Lord’s voice washed over him, deep and rumbling and impossible to disobey. The liquid was warm and hearty, and he drank it slowly but readily. The warmth was a welcome solace, a balm as it spread through him and eased the eternal chill of the castle and his Lord’s hands. Such a simple gesture of care, and he was so wretchedly thankful for it. 

“There you go.” Affection permeated his Lord’s voice as the bowl was pulled away. “Isn’t that better?”

Somehow, he found the strength to nod. At least, he thought he did. The movement might have been too small to see, might not have been there at all.

“Good.” He could feel the rumble of his Lord’s voice in his chest as he spoke. “Would you like to sleep now, my light? You must be exhausted.”

And he was. Weariness weighed on him heavily, and all he wanted was to slip away into a restful oblivion. The pull only grew with each beat of his heart, as though the mere suggestion had made his body all the more susceptible to the call. He tried to nod, or make some sound of affirmation, but even that was impossibly difficult between the pain still flowing through him and the exhaustion that he wanted so desperately to yield to. 

He was so tired. 

He was always so tired.

But even without his words, without any sort of response at all, his Lord understood, just as he always did. Strong arms enveloped him in a steady, unyielding embrace that he sunk into easily. “Oh, I thought so. Sleep, my light. I will be right here with you.”

Somehow that reassurance still sent a slight chill down his spine. But there was no resisting his Lord’s request, especially when it was one he wanted so earnestly to follow. His last fleeting hope as oblivion took him was for everything to be less painful when he awoke.

[raigash]

The Crystal

The crystal is cold, and dark.

As the sun rises over the horizon, golden eyes slide open, blink once, twice. 

The crystal is cold, and bright. Absently, they wonder how long they’ve been asleep. A few years this time, maybe? They close their eyes again as the sun climbs higher, piercing the walls of the crystal with a brightness they can’t turn their head away from.

The crystal is cold, and bright, and unforgiving. It presses in on them from all sides, offering no solace, no semblance of movement or freedom. They remain suspended in the crystal, immobilized, tilted forward with their arms and legs extended slightly behind them. 

The crystal is cold, and bright, and unforgiving, and magic. As they have done each time that they have awoken, they search for the power buried inside of them, ready to let it expel out of them to shatter the crystal. And as they delve, just as it has each time that they have awoken, the crystal pulses around them, and their magic recedes, hidden deeper within them. 

They clench and release their muscles, as they do each time they awaken. Testing how much they’ve atrophied. It’s worse this time then the last time they awakened, but not as bad as the first time. Perhaps they slept for a decade or so. They can’t do much about it except the minute flexes that encompass their range of motion. They can practically hear their body whirring, working to repair the deadened cells and replace them, now that they’re awake.

They clench and release their muscles, assessing the damage. Their throat is dry, as it has been for the eternity of their imprisonment. They haven’t had so much as a sip of water in… it must be centuries, now. At the thought, their stomach growls. They don’t bother testing their voice, knowing it’s nonexistent. It’s not as vital as their muscles, or their brain function. It won’t come back for another couple of days, at least. Their healing has bigger priorities.

The crystal is cold, and bright, and unforgiving. The hard edges dig into their arms, their face, their torso. The sun is directly overhead, now, and they open their eyes. Their hair has grown since they last awakened.  Their eyes flit around the area, taking in their surroundings. Their vision blurs, shifts dizzyingly as the crystal warps and distorts the world outside. 

It seems the oak seedling at the edge of their sight has grown much more during their slumber. It towers over the crystal now, and perhaps may provide shade as the sun moves further. What a blessing that would be.

The crystal is cold, and bright. The remnants of snow cling to the ground, soft white patches littering the lush green grass surrounding them. Newly-sprung flowers peek out among the stark white. Ah. It must be spring, now. How fortunate that they’re awake to witness such beauty. 

They had a name, once. They can’t imagine anyone knows it now.

The sun dips below the horizon behind them, and the sky begins to turn a beautiful magenta color. They’ve seen hundreds upon hundreds of sunrises, but not one sunset. They simply watch as the sky morphs into beautiful painted colors, only able to imagine the sight behind them. What a shame that no one has ever happened upon this hill, to bear witness to the beauty they’re forced to behold each night.

The rosy fingers of the sun slowly slip away. The moon rises into the night, a slim crescent that barely illuminates the pale prison and its occupant.

The crystal is dark, and cold.

[raigash]

Day 1 - Drugged

Hehehe let's do some Whumptober!! Going with @ailesswhumptober's prompt list bc like...listen, the prompts are really tasty. Also Miguel belongs to my beloved @whumpr!! Thank you for letting me borrow him!!

TWs: Drugging (but it was requested), panic attacks

Mariano was at the war mage's place, curled up on the couch with Miguel, when he'd offered to get him some water to go with their popcorn. He'd finished his glass immediately, since the extra salt that Miguel liked to add made him thirsty. Mariano hadn't thought anything of it until they'd gone back to watching their movie.

Dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion twenty minutes later. It felt like the couch had swayed underneath him. He hummed, frowning, reaching to press his hand to his own forehead. "Miguel..." He started, realizing that his tongue felt too heavy.

"Hm?" Miguel had an arm around him. He shifted to look Mariano in the eye. "Something the matter?"

"I..." Mariano fought to find the words he wanted. "I feel...weird." He settled on. "I don't think I feel well."

Miguel reached up to push Mariano's hand away from his forehead, pressing the backs of his fingers to Mariano's skin. It made Mariano whimper, leaning into the steadying touch. "You don't have a fever."

The couch swayed again and Mariano leaned closer to Miguel, dropping his face against his shoulder with a whine. His hand shifted to clutch Miguel's shirt. His heart started to race. "What's...?"

"Ah." Miguel said, laughing gently. "Ah, I see. It's just kicking in."

Ice flooded Mariano's chest as his shoulders went tense. He looked up at Miguel, sounding stricken. "Yyyyou...you gave me something."

"Shhh." Miguel said, reaching to cup Mariano's face. "Shhh, breathe." His thumbs started sliding back and forth along Mariano's skin, even as tears started to gather in Mariano's eyes. "Remember you asked me to do this? A few weeks ago?"

"I want to be less panicky when I'm drugged." Mariano had admitted. "I feel like I lose my mind when I realize it's happened, it makes it hard to fight, or run."

"Do you want me to help you work through the panic?" Miguel had asked. "We can use the normal safe word, in case it starts to feel like too much."

"Yes, yes please. Don't warn me, either. I wouldn't get that luxury normally."

Mariano did remember, then, through the haze starting to cloud his mind. Adrenaline started to race through him, drawing his grip on Miguel into something tighter. He nodded, though, groaning at how it made the living room spin.

"Answer me, Mariano, do you remember asking for this?" Miguel spoke low against his ear. A shudder raced down Mariano's spine.

"I do, I...I remember." Mariano slurred. "Remember we were...there's gonna be the...the safe word. In case."

Miguel's hand slid through his hair and Mariano huddled into him. "Perfect." Miguel said, sounding fond. "Exactly. And I'm gonna keep you like this for a while tonight."

Mariano pressed his body closer to Miguel's, as though he were trying to curl up and hide against the shorter man. "How...howww long? I don't...I don't like this."

"You don't get to know." Miguel answered, and Mariano could've sworn he heard him smiling. "Come on, breathe. Relax. We're just watching a movie." The hand in his hair kept up its repetitive strokes, fingertips sliding along Mariano's scalp just how he always liked.

It didn't work. Mariano just got tense all over again. "Miguel, I don't..." He felt his breath hitch. "Please tell mmmme...tell me how long."

Miguel shook his head. "I can't do that." His other hand took Mariano's, winding their fingers together. "You're safe. Take a deep breath."

"Miguel." Mariano's voice broke. Miguel's hand slid from his hair and down to his shoulder, hugging him close as he started to tremble. "I can't--" His heart was racing, his grip tightened on Miguel's hand. The room had started to spin as the edges of his vision started to darken.

He wasn't sure if it was the drugs or the panic attack he might've been having.

"Mariano, you need to calm down." Miguel spoke firmly. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."

Mariano couldn't breathe. He tried to listen, tried to calm down. He couldn't hear what Miguel said next, though. He only dimly heard himself starting to cry.

Miguel's hands cupped his face, making Mariano meet his eyes. Mariano saw his pact rings reflected in them. "Mariano." Miguel's brows were furrowed in concern. "Mariano, hey. Look at me. Is there someone you want to talk to?"

Mariano swallowed hard. "Llllluis." He breathed. "Luis." He repeated as tears started to roll down his face.

"Okay, I hear you. I hear you, we're done." Miguel said, helping Mariano lie down. "It'll wear off in an hour or two. You're just going to feel sleepy. That's it. It's a sedative. They give it to pets for vet visits, it just makes your body relax." Miguel's voice washed over him as the tears kept falling.

Mariano nodded, looping his arms around Miguel's waist. "Oka-ay." He whimpered, muffled by Miguel's shirt. "Okay. I...okay. Thhhhank you." Miguel's fingers started sliding through Mariano's hair again, and this time it started to help. Tension began to melt out of Mariano's shoulders as the drugs started to pull him further under. "Thank yyyyou."

"Shhh." Miguel's voice was softer now, and Mariano wasn't sure if it was because Miguel was doing it on purpose or if he was just starting to doze. "Take a nap if you need to. I won't go anywhere."

Mariano nodded, feeling heavier than ever. His eyes slid closed. Panic still buzzed at the back of his head, but with Miguel's cologne in his nose and his hand in his hair, he could breathe.

[raigash]

Day 3 - Isolation

I love this! I love exploring Mariano's time in prison!!

Ping list: @whumperofworlds, @ailesswhumptober

TWs: illness, fever, isolation, ableism, touch starvation

Prison life had started to settle down ever since they'd brought Mariano to his new cell. It was small, with white walls and a white floor, all stone and concrete. The slab that his thin mattress sat on wasn't quite large enough, but he didn't move in his sleep anyway. The toilet was his own, with no cellmate to share with. The door was thick, reinforced steel, with two windows that the guards could open to talk to him or slide his meals in through.

Mariano was alone.

It was fine.

Now and then, he was allowed to call his parents. He would be led to the phone area, into the booth, and they'd talk. At first it was normal, and they were glad to hear he'd been put somewhere that he felt safer.

It didn't last.

His voice started to go hoarse. He wasn't talking to anyone, and didn't feel like talking aloud to himself, so it just got rusty and rough. He got quieter. His mother got worried.

"Are you sick, Mariano?" She would ask, worry filling her voice. "You don't sound well. Is it cold? The weather here is getting colder. Are you able to keep warm at night?"

"I can keep warm." He would lie. "I don't think I'm sick, though. I don't have a fever, I just don't talk very much."

She never sounded terribly convinced. Once, a week after one of their calls, he was hauled off to the infirmary to be looked over. The doctor hadn't been gentle as he examined Mariano, poking and prodding. He'd shined his light into Mariano's mouth, examined his ears, listened to his lungs. The steady hand on Mariano's shoulder as the stethoscope pressed to his back made his face flush.

Clean bill of health, the man said after double checking his temperature.

Mariano's skin hadn't stopped buzzing by the time he went to sleep that night.

--

"Are they treating you well, Mariano?" His father asked. "The trial wasn't good to you, but I know my son. Are the staff fair?"

"I think so." Mariano didn't have to lie about that. "They're very kind."

The guards were kind. They were much kinder now that Mariano was away from general population. They spoke to him on the way to and from his time in the yard. They were even punctual with his meals. Sometimes new guards were too rough, or they were rude or mean, but they were just scared. He would've been scared of him, too, in their shoes.

A guard mentioned Mariano's parents that next week, on their way to the yard. It was someone new. "You're lucky, y'know." The man said. "My parents would've disowned me if I'd killed thousands. I wouldn't be getting calls from them two years later."

"I know." Mariano said. "I expected them to hate me." He had. Their reassurances had felt false, leading up to the trial. "I don't know why they don't."

"Your mom's a good baker." The man said after some quiet. "Sent us a thank you card and some cookies." He started patting Mariano down. It always sent a thrill through his chest. The world swayed and he hoped the way his face burned wasn't obvious.

Mariano couldn't help laughing, the noise sounding foreign to him now. "She is. I'll let her know you all liked them, she'll probably send some around Christmas time."

"It is Christmas, Ortiz." The man said, scoffing. "Christ. Do need another visit to medical to fix your head?"

Mariano didn't want to take anything the doctor would give him--the guards had talked about keeping him sedated before he was placed in isolation. But the doctor's hands had felt nice on his shoulder last time. He hadn't stopped thinking about them for days. "No sir." Mariano said, ignoring how his chest twisted at the thought. "I just misremembered."

"Good. Get out there, you know the routine."

Mariano didn't get his call that week. The next day he'd woken up shivering and unable to stay awake. He hadn't even been able to get up to get to a wall when they tried to take him to the yard. They'd come in and he'd just had his hands up in the air, shaking palms towards the ceiling.

"Ortiz, what the fuck?" Rodriguez asked, and Mariano vaguely felt relieved. He knew Rodriguez, and Rodriguez knew him. "Get up."

"I...didn't want to scare you." Mariano said, chest heavy and breathing shallow. His voice was all but gone. "I'm dizzy."

Rodriguez paused before reaching for his face. Mariano flinched, only barely relaxing as Rodriguez's palm pressed to his forehead. "God, yeah, I'd be dizzy too with a fever like that. C'mon, let's get you looked at. I'll send for a wheelchair so that you don't have to be hauled around like luggage."

Mariano didn't remember much after he tried to stand to get into the chair. He knew Rodriguez had been cursing, and that there were hands on his waist and shoulders. The next thing he knew, the lights were dimmed for the first time since he'd arrived and he had an IV in. Pneumonia, someone mentioned when they checked on him. The beds were softer in the medical wing, though, and even in warded restraints it was easier to sleep with the extra blanket he was given.

Mariano's parents weren't happy to hear that update two weeks later.

--

He didn't have many notable updates after that, though. Not until they started getting him ready for early release. He'd never heard them sound so happy before.

"That's amazing!" His father exclaimed. "I thought something like this might happen."

"I'm afraid," Mariano admitted. "I don't want to make things hard on you both or cause any trouble. I know how most people saw me."

His mother jumped in, then. "That doesn't matter to us, Mariano. You're our baby boy, and you always will be. What other people think is their business."

"Plus," His father said. "We can look into options for you if you're not comfortable coming home. Isn't there that rehabilitation program? The one that has a deal with the Mountains?"

Mariano had to think. "There...there is. Yes." He paused. "Do you think they'd really accept me?"

"I think so." His mother said. "And you can come visit when you've had time to get acclimated again. Does that sound easier than coming home?"

"It...it does." Mariano admitted. "I think I like that."

"If you need any help from us, please tell us." His father said. "And we'll meet you there when you're released. We can make a day of it before we get you to the airport."

"Okay." Mariano felt himself smile for the first time in...a while. "That sounds good."

Maybe, he thought, an early release wouldn't be the end of the world.

[raigash]

Day 11 - Fainting

I was waffling on what to do for this day until I took not quite enough Nyquil and just let my mind wander for a bit lmao so have something cute

Ping list: @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain

TWs: another thing where kissing happens and a guy's tits are out but nothing happens, sex gets referenced with a flirty suggestion but its pretty pg-13 still, blood, vampire feeding, alcohol mention, needle mention, fainting

Mariano had decided to go out that Friday. He didn't have work in the morning for once, and Bastian had been getting onto him about being a seventy-year-old in a thirty-three-year-old's body. He'd gone to a place he'd heard good things about--it was loud, and the lights were too much.

The drinks were nice though, and the huge, ruby-horned, golden-eyed bartender was handsome and charming. Maybe he would make this a regular thing. He'd even met a sweet vampire. The blond twink had body glitter on, likely from head to toe, and her green eyes lit up when he'd responded to her flirting.

Brian, her name was. She'd let him text a selfie with her to Bastian, and he'd let her send one of them to her boyfriends. She'd also let him pay for the taxi back to her place.

It was so cozy. He took in the restored, renewed antique cellos and violins hung up on the walls, with flowers and animals carved delicately into the outer layers of the wood and varnished over with love. He saw the worn leather jacket that hung near the doorway, underneath a motorcycle helmet. He saw crutches, and what had to be a backup wheelchair, kept near the couch in a corner.

She'd led him to a bedroom, furnished with string lights and tapestries over the walls and a fluffy bedspread on the queen-sized bed. A teal television sat on a dresser, the perfect height for movie nights. And now her hands cupped Mariano's face as he knelt above her, propped up on his elbows and knees.

Their lips pressed together, hers chilled but tasting like strawberries. It lingered on his own lips when they pulled apart. He'd have to ask her what brand the lip gloss was. Cute, freckled cheeks were flushed. Her sharp indicator teeth were bright in the dim, warm light when she beamed up at him.

"God--don't take this the wrong way, you smell so good right now." Brian said, pulling Mariano down for another kiss. "Like it's not a cologne, and you don't smell afraid. Do you have magic or something?"

"I do." Mariano said, one hand slipping up under Brian's head, his fingers threading into her hair. "It's pretty strong though, it might be off-putting."

"Can I taste?" One of Brian's hands dropped to his neck, and Mariano felt his pulse more strongly. "If it's not my cup of tea, I can always get a different taste of you." Her smile shifted into something more flirtatious. "I'm really good with my mouth."

Mariano laughed, kissing her again, soft and sweet. "That sounds good to me."

Brian brightened up, wiggling to sit up more against the head of the bed. "Okay! Turn around, shirt off if you want. Just lean against me." She tapped his shoulders, looking him over appreciatively. "You don't gotta worry about crushing me either."

"Alright, alright." Mariano said, raising up onto his knees to tug his shirt and binder off over his head. Brian's eyes lit up when she saw him, hands reaching to feel up his sides. He lowered himself down, shifting so that his shoulders met Brian's chest. Cool fingers drifted over his temples and neck, brushing his hair aside. "You don't have to be gentle."

"I think I'll be gentle anyway." Brian whispered, cold lips ghosting over his skin again. Mariano couldn't help the shudder that raced through him. He let out a sigh when Brian opened her mouth and then opened it wider.

He felt the brush of two thin teeth as they were brought forward. One of Brian's arms looped around his front, hand coming to rest affectionately on his cheek. Not a moment later, two sparks of pain erupted from his neck.

Mariano hummed, eyes fluttering closed as Brian's fangs sunk deeper, slow and steady. She'd obviously been doing this for a while. The moment her teeth had pierced the artery, she withdrew and locked her mouth around the wound.

His head started to spin as Brian's thumb began to trace along his cheekbone. She hummed against him, slender hand starting to support his head more and more. Static began to fill Mariano's ears. The soft noises that Brian made started to fade. The warm lighting started to dim. The room began to spin.

The world dropped away and Mariano fell.

"Hey. Open your eyes for me." Brian's voice cut through everything. It was low and steady, and Mariano realized that he wasn't leaning against the sweet vampire anymore. He was lying down and his feet were propped up on some pillows. "Mariano?"

He groaned, managing to open his eyes as Brian's fingers slid through his hair. "I'm...I'm awake." He mumbled, meeting Brian's eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hip pressed against his side.

"Good! You had me worried. You fainted, but I didnt take much--do shots give you trouble or something?"

Mariano laughed, quiet and warm. "No, no, needles are fine. I don't mind them." He reached to take her hand, squeezing it when she threaded their fingers together. "Heard it can just happen sometimes, though."

Brian laughed in return, nodding. "Guess it was just a random spell then, huh?" She reached to slide her fingers through his hair, pulling a quiet, relieved sound from him. "Well, you're not in a state to make out or anything now, so how's a movie sound? I can make popcorn, get you a soda. You can stay the night too, if you want."

Mariano brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "That...that all sounds very nice, yes."

Brian stood, kissing his temple before fluttering out of the room. "I'll be right back then, 'kay? Text your boyfriend, and I'll let Elliot know he's evicted for the night." A quick text to Bastian updating him on the plan was all he had to do, and then he relaxed as the sounds of playful arguing in the kitchen drifted in.

[raigash]

Day 12 - Self Harm

Hehehe a little bit of a twist on the prompt, but Mariano is indeed harming himself, along with like 95% of the other people in this building :)

Ping list: @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain

TWs: blink-and-you-miss-it reference to the threat of noncon, blood, self-harm, hand whump, dislocated fingers, captivity (the moment of escape), death, murder, burns, starvation mention, self-sacrifice, Dimitri being himself about pain

Mariano stood steadfast as alarms blared, the only one of the war mages who'd managed to slip his restraints. Laredo watched as he trembled, knees threatening to give out as more and more people continued to try to take him down. Mariano's magic gathered at his teeth, broken wards no longer keeping the plasma contained. It sparked at his fingers and palms, spitting and hissing in fury and exhaustion.

Laredo didn't remember Mariano fighting like this when he was younger. He was always efficient, and terrifying to see. Luis had picked him for a reason--Mariano could wipe a town off the face of the earth with no hesitation or change in his posture. He'd seen him do it; mechanically tackling every structure, killing every living person inside before he did so that they weren't trapped and waiting for an even worse death. That Mariano was a lot.

But this Mariano put that one to shame.

This Mariano, with scars and eyes that burned with more than just fear, moved like a predator. Laredo realized that it was almost too easy to think that he was some fragile little waif when they usually saw him next to his seven-foot-tall dragon, curled up on the couch to cuddle, or standing as one of the smaller members of their group. This Mariano burned holes through guards' heads without blinking, without missing a shot. This Mariano loomed and leaped, hands wreathed in blinding magic. He pinned the lead guard with little more than just his weight.

They'd seen how that guy had been looking at Manuel, at Mariano. Had heard whispers about what he wanted to do. Laredo glanced at Manuel, and saw the same fury and joy and catharsis in his eyes.

Mariano wrapped his fingers around the lead guards' throat. Mariano didn't let go until the man stopped screaming. He wasn't dead. Mariano didn't seem to care that much.

He didn't seem to care when his magic flickered, either. It shorted out, suddenly dimming before cutting off completley. Laredo's heart dropped. There were still more men to deal with--but they'd been held here for weeks, and hadn't even gotten to free Bastian yet. The starvation seemed like it had taken too heavy of a toll on the youngest war mage.

"Mariano!" Laredo called. Mariano didn't look at him, never looking away from the hallway that the threats had been pouring into. "Cut us free! Let us take over!"

Mariano didn't even seem to hear him.

More men appeared at the end of the hallway. They raised their guns. Suddenly, the hallway was lit by that same brilliant sunlight. For a moment, Laredo thought one of the others had broken free. Mariano's silhouette stood alone, though.

The men fell. They kept appearing. They kept falling.

Mariano was still casting. Laredo saw how horribly his palms were burned. They hung at his sides, loose and swaying as Mariano lurched forward, firing more magic from his teeth.

"Laredo." Dimitri said, drawing Laredo's attention away from Mariano. "Help me out. I'm almost free. I'm not as flexible as I used to be." Dimitri met his eyes, some grim determination filling his expression. His hands were almost free from the cuffs. He just needed a little help to dislocate his thumb. "His nose is already bleeding."

Laredo's stomach dropped. Mariano had already pushed himself too far. Mariano intended to keep going.

Laredo realized how horribly they were outnumbered. This whole place was meant to hold them for as long as necessary. Every single person here had a vested interest in keeping them under control. Many of them would be willing to die for it.

Laredo hooked his shoe up under the chain keeping Dimitri's cuffs linked. "I won't count you down." He saw how the metal bit into Dimitri's hands, into his skin, how it threatened to draw blood.

"Good. You know I like surprises." Dimitri shot him a grin as he leaned forward to give Laredo the straightest shot possible. He didn't scream when Laredo yanked his foot towards himself.

"Mm," Dimitri groaned, and Laredo couldn't quite tell how Dimitri felt about his newly dislocated thumbs. "Yes, I see why he didn't come unlock us after doing that to himself."

Dimitri staggered to his feet, grimacing as he sparked his magic and started slicing through the metal keeping Laredo bound. One cuff fell, and then the other. Laredo's skin smarted from how hot they'd gotten during the removal process.

Mariano was still casting, and people were still coming. His magic started to flicker and short out again. "Rookie, stand down!" Laredo tried as he began slicing through Manuel's restraints.

"He's not able to hear us right now." Manuel muttered, shaking his hands as he and Izan were freed next.

Just as Mariano managed to get his magic back at his teeth, Laredo grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him off of his feet. The cast fizzled and he stumbled, only avoiding dropping to the floor because of Laredo's arms around his waist.

Mariano blinked hard as Laredo pulled him away from the opening of the hallway, letting Izan, Manuel, and Dimitri take over the attack. "Laredo...?" Confusion was clear on his face.

"Yeah, it's me." He lowered them both to the floor, supporting Mariano's weight on the way down. "Dimitri dislocated his thumbs like a weirdo and slipped his cuffs. You don't have to hurt yourself anymore. We have you."

Mariano rested his cheek against Laredo's shoulder and nodded. "I...okay." He settled on, closing his eyes. His hands rested on his lap, skin burned and bleeding. "Okay." Laredo reached up to smooth some of Mariano's hair back and wipe some of the blood from his face.

Laredo held Mariano there against the wall until Dimitri's triumphant call heralded their victory.