#but it keeps pain awareness down and I have no rash from the heat so far so it seems OK

[soullikethesea]

Fingers crossed that the worst of the endo pain is over now. It was pretty bad today. When I finally took the strong combination of painkillers, it decreased a little and I immediately crashed into sleep.

Since then it's been getting better and I feel like I can move more freely again. Big relief.

I also kind of teased myself about the pain today. I clearly don't need therapy to make me miserable or have more pain, I can do that all by myself! ;)

Now I'm all ready for bed. Long day ahead, so hopefully I'll snooze off soon...

[joanshan]

Tea – Delicious and Healthy

So many of us are tea drinkers here in America, although I tend to think of tea drinking as a pastime of the British mostly. That’s not even true! But recently I have been increasingly aware of the many tea drinkers here at home; in fact, more than 159 million Americans drink it. 

In fact, in 2020, Americans drank more than 84 billion servings of tea! And, on any day, over 50% of the American population drinks tea. 

So, it seems wise, knowing how popular tea drinking is, to explore the many health benefits of tea, and there are a bunch!

Tea has been clinically studied for a long time, so when we talk benefits, we mean real, scientific benefits. Here are a few:

Tea can boost the immune system. And if there’s ever a time to boost the immune system, it would be during the current pandemic! In fact, white tea may be the most effective type in fighting cancer, another disease having to do with our immunity. 

1. Chamomile Tea

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Chamomile tea can help reduce menstrual pain and muscle spasms; it is also known to improve sleep quality and quantity and help generally with relaxation, thereby reducing stress. 

2. Rooibos Tea

Rooibos tea an African tea, is known to improve blood pressure and circulation (thereby being heart-healthy) and can help boost our good cholesterol and lower our bad cholesterol. It can also help keep our skin and hair healthy. 

3. Peppermint Tea

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Peppermint tea which has menthol naturally in it can help soothe an upset stomach and help you if you’re constipated and/or have irritable bowel syndrome or even motion sickness.

4. Ginger Tea

Ginger tea is wonderful any way you eat it! But as a tea, it can help to ward off morning sickness and is useful if you have chronic indigestion. It is also known to help relieve joint pain if you have osteoarthritis.

5. Green Tea

Being high in flavonoids can also help your heart health like rooibos tea by lowering bad cholesterol and raising your good cholesterol. It can also help lower your triglycerides and impact your total cholesterol count. 

6. Black Tea

Which stems from the same plant as green tea, is made by drying and fermenting the leaves which results in a darker color and different taste.

This one is useful if applied to minor cuts and abrasions and bruises; it is also known to reduce swelling and can lower inflammation from rashes and even poison ivy.

In general, tea has antioxidants that are completely healthy, it has less caffeine than coffee (or none at all), and as stated above, can help reduce your risk of heart issues.

It might also be helpful in the battle of the bulge (i.e., weight loss). It may be able to help protect your bones and gut health. Remember – three-fourths of our immune system resides in the gut so it’s a great idea to keep the gut nice and healthy!

At the time of this writing, we are heading into the cold weather season. There’s nothing like a hot cup of tea (or iced if you prefer) to give you comfort and warmth and a sense of feeling cozy. 

How about a few recipes?!

One favorite tea recipe is Moroccan tea. You can make this with green tea and fresh (preferably organic) spearmint leaves. Be careful about sweetening this up, as table sugar is never really good for you – LOL!

Add the tea to boiling water and let it steep for about 15 minutes. Strain it, if need be, put the spearmint at the bottom of the teapot, and pour the tea over the leaves. Enjoy!

Another good one is lemon ginger tea. You will need fresh ginger root (preferably organic), perhaps a very little honey if you like it sweet (but use very sparingly), and one (organic or local) lemon which has been rinsed well.

Fill a pot with water and boil. Turn the heat down to medium. Add some thinly sliced ginger root (leaving the peel on it). Simmer for about 15 minutes or until it tastes well and some of the water has reduced. Enjoy!

Then there’s chai tea. You can use Darjeeling tea, fresh cinnamon sticks, fresh ginger root, cloves, green cardamom pods, black peppercorns, and a little honey.

You’ll also need whole milk. Using a grinder or a mortar and pestle grind the cloves, cardamon, and black peppercorns.

Add all the above (except the milk and honey) to a saucepan, stir, and simmer for about 10-15 minutes. You may want to strain the spices and tea leaves out and then add the milk and honey, and make sure everything is nice and warm for a cozy, cuddly day. Enjoy!

Now, if you’re wanting to lose some weight, you can enhance the process of dieting and exercising with some homemade recipes.

As many of you know, green tea can be particularly useful in a variety of ways. It is also good if you’re trying to lose weight.

You can make a delicious and healthy tea with grated ginger (using either the root or powder), cinnamon (use sticks or powder), water of course, green tea (loose or in teabag form), a little lemon juice (fresh organic will be the best), and if you want a little sweetener, use a tiny bit of honey.

You can also use – in any recipe – a healthy sweetener like stevia or erythritol, for example. You can always put in a few fresh mint leaves as a garnish and some of its nutrients will add flavor and health-giving properties to your tea.

Boil the ginger and cinnamon in the water for a few minutes. Add honey or a healthy substitute (or leave it out if you wish), and a little lemon juice and mix.

Strain this mixture. Then put it in your green tea bag or leaves. Let it steep for just a couple of minutes. Enjoy!

As an addition to a healthy weight-loss program, you can choose a tea recipe that will help give your metabolic rate a boost.

Take some warm water, a little bit of raw honey or other healthy substitutes, a little fresh lemon juice, a little raw apple cider vinegar, a little fresh ginger, a little cinnamon, and a bit of cayenne pepper.

First, mix the honey with the warm water, add the lemon juice and apple cider vinegar. Add ginger (preferably freshly grated) and some cinnamon (use a healthy one). Finally, add the cayenne pepper; mix up well and … enjoy!

For more detailed information, visit Health And Wellness

And as always, have a happy, holistically healthy day!

Source: Tea – Delicious and Healthy

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Uhmmm.... so I had a prompt idea. What if hero arrested villain, and handed him to the authorites, and he basically told her that he'd make her pay for it. Then hero goes to the prison for a different reason weeks later, where she sees villain, terrified, sick, and drugged. So, she reluctantly takes him home and cares for him. She is scared he will attack her when he's lucid, but when he does fully wake up, he's just terrified.

This is such a good idea! I saw your submission right before I went to bed and laid there thinking about it, so as you can see I was quite excited to write it.

Paying For It

Warnings: threats, horrible treatment by authorities, left to be sick, fever, blood, drugged, forced sedation, unconsciousness, nightmares, smoking mention, paralysis (due to sickness), sick animal analogy, delirium

~

"You will pay for this," he growled as the handcuffs clicked into place. "I will make you you pay for this and not by money, no-" a chuckle "- I will hurt you."

Hero shuddered as she walked down the icy path back to the same prison that she recently turned Villain into. Horrible thoughts of that said villain breaking out and torturing her flooded into her mind, making her already chilly veins even colder. She hugged her fleece tighter around her and adjusted her scarf, suddenly wishing she wore her winter coat.

Before she knew it, Hero was trotting up the steps towards the concrete building. It was, by design, barren yet strong.

She had some documents to bring to the office. There was a new supervillain in town, actually more like ten, but Hero only managed to get information about the one. They most likely moved in after the biggest threat around, Villain, was arrested.

She opened the door, closing it quietly, and walked up to the desk. The hero, a young boy, most likely a sidekick holding down the fort while his mentor went to do something else, sitting up there was lazily playing a video game on his phone.

Hero coughed to get his attention. The boy didn't respond.

"Hello?" Hero asked.

The boy startled, tossing his phone backwards. "I wasn't," he defended, "on my phone, I swear."

"Uh huh," Hero grunted, sliding the papers over to the boy. "Where's your boss?"

"Probably smoking or something," the boy chuckled, then stopped and looked at Hero with a nervously apologetic expression. "I shouldn't have- you weren't meant to know."

Hero shook her head and said, "I don't care about my colleagues personal habits, but can you get him for me?"

The boy nodded and rushed off, returning later with a stern looking man.

"Superhero," Hero acknowledged, nodding slightly. He smiled then looked at the papers on the desk.

"Are these about..." He looked up at Hero.

"The new villain, yes," Hero finished his sentence, crossing her arms.

"Good, very good," Superhero momentarily flipped through them. In that silence, a thought bubbled up in Hero's mind.

"How's Villain?" She asked. "It's been awhile."

Superhero's face paled, as his toe nervously tapped the floor. Hero raised an eyebrow.

"We've had some... issues, so Villain is spending sometime in detention," Superhero said. He coughed, then said in an overly joyful tone, "Thanks for this Hero, do you want me to escort you to your car?"

"I would actually like to see Villain. Maybe I can, you know, talk to him about his behavior," Hero declined the offer, stepping in front of the papers. Something isn't right...

"Well you see, that wouldn't be beneficial. If anything it would be detrimental towards Villain's... redemption," Superhero pointed out, unconsciously chewing at his lip.

"We aren't a redemption center, Superhero," Hero said quietly, almost a whisper. "Let me see Villain or-" Hero grabbed the papers and proceeded to rip them "- these aren't your's."

Superhero rushed forward, putting his hands on top of Hero's and slid the papers back towards him. He gave a tiny smile and consented to her request.

They walked down the corridor and then down a couple flight of stairs until they reached a steel door with three locks- all with different keys. Hero watched with a stoned expression, thinking about what would happen if one of those keys were unfortunately lost...

"He's in here," Superhero spoke, dancing on his feet.

Hero stepped into the dark room, recognizing the detention cell that she helped invent, and flipped on the lights.

In the corner of the capacious cell, was a huddled figure. His back was towards her, legs spread out. With a pang in her chest, Hero walked up to him.

"V-villain," Hero breathed and crouched next to the figure. Villain whimpered and pulled himself deeper into himself, but his legs didn't seem to be connected to his brain.

Hero gently rolled Villain's head up to face her and nearly gasped when she took in the sight. He looked like a sick, stray cat. Mucus drained out of his nose as vomit spewed out from the corner of his mouth. His half-lidded eyes were bloodshot and had deep eyebags underneath with dried blood coating his cheeks. He had multiple, nasty cold sores all around his lips- or were they infected cuts? Maybe both.

"Why is he in this state?" Hero asked, astounded. This violated so many regulations and rules- the prison could be shut down, many heroes arrested or fined.

Superhero didn't respond. Instead, he appeared at Hero's side and crouched down next to Villain. The villain who didn't even seem to be aware of their presences.

Hero grabbed one of the wrists that were so protectively cuddled next to Villain's chest. He whimpered, trying to resist Hero's touch.

"No," he mumbled. "No no no no. Don't give... m-more... that mm stop." Villain started to breath heavily, his already fast pulse speeding up. With a heavy heart, Hero knew without even looking that he was drugged badly.

"Superhero... why?" Hero squeaked, turning over a wrist to see them heavily bruised and still bleeding from his most recent dose.

Villain started thrashing, but his legs wouldn't move.

"Why can't he move?" Hero asked, running a hand along Villain's shoulder. "Why can't he move his legs?!"

Superhero inhaled deeply then said, "He's very sick, uh... he probably has some sort of infection that makes it hard for him to move his lower body. Maybe, I don't really know."

"You don't even know what's wrong with your prisoner," Hero scoffed in disbelief, dragging Villain's limp body into her lap. She tried not to notice the wetness seeping into her jeans. It would only infuriate her that such a sick person would be kept in a wet and cold cell on top of being drugged daily without any medicines to help kick his fever.

"He's sick."

Obviously.

"I'm taking him home," Hero said, and scooped his way too light form up. His legs dangled uselessly, head falling off towards the side.

"That's illegal," Superhero pointed out. "He is in our custody now."

"And where does our rules permit excessive use of sedatives," Hero said in the same, authoritive tone. "Minimal use only to relax a distressed prisoner and only when necessary. Also, never to the point of unconsciousness." Hero gestured with her head towards Villain's closed eyes.

"And where do they permit us heroes to contain a villain on private property?" Superhero tutted. "Set him down and let me do my job."

"I'll call the authorities," Hero threatened, "and take you to court."

Superhero groaned and threw his hands in the air. That was not a risk he could take.

"Fine," he growled, storming out of the room, leaving Hero in silence other than the slow dripping from a leaky pipe.

She quickly tore off her fleece and wrapped Villain's shivering body up. His eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something incoherently, but that was all as his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Then, she carried his ragdoll-like body out of the prison, down those steps, and into her car.

She laid Villain's limp form on one of the backseats, propping his lolling head against the window and buckled him in. His arms hung lifeless at his sides, legs completely devoid of strength.

With a nervous whimper, Hero sped home.

At home, Hero took a warm washcloth and wiped off the dried blood and mucus to reveal unevenly toned skin underneath. She delicately picked the dry crust off his eyelashes and eyebrows. It was rock hard and the warm water wouldn't loosen it, so she was forced to pull on the tiny hairs. At least he wasn't conscious for the pinpoints of pain.

Hero suddered, thinking about what would happen when he did wake up. Surely, he would keep to his word and hurt her, beating her up for imprisoning him and then of course this newfound dilemma.

She looked down at his sleeping form and sighed. She had him elevated to make sure his airways stayed clear, but his head kept falling to the side and onto the backrest of her daybed. His lips quivered, forming soundless words and pleas.

Hero gently touched his forehead, retreating at the burning heat. His eyes slowly blinked open at the contact, he moaned, and then they rolled back again and closed.

Hero sat next to him for rest of the day, worriedly anticipating his attitude upon awakening. However, as the hours went on and Villain didn't seem to be regaining consciousness too much, Hero realized that they would be in for a roughly long time.

Villain was probably drugged like that the moment he entered that building and judging by his health and state of his wrists, Hero also guessed that there was no care whatsoever during the admission or the aftercare.

Hero ran her fingers over Villain's pale cheeks. His mouth was parted open and he snored slightly from the congestion. Tears leaked from his eyes, irritating the tender skin below. Hero went and grabbed some lotion, smearing the white cream over the red rashes.

Villain jerked away suddenly, curling into himself and protectively guarding his arms. His heavy breathing went shallower and quicker as tiny noises escaped his mouth. Hero sighed and stopped touching him; he was likely trapped in a nightmare.

Hours turned into days, and only then was Villain awake enough to be aware of Hero's looming presence.

Though, his reaction was not what Hero was expecting.

He screamed, shoving himself and his weak form to a corner of the bed and gathering his leaden limbs into a huddled mass of burning skin. He shrieked and sobbed, and watched Hero with wide, exhausted eyes.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, pulling up the covers in a bade to protect himself. "Please."

Hero never once in her life felt so utterly useless.

She was, like Villain promised she would, paying for her actions.

[chuckbass-love]

Any interest in writing a fic where Chris cheats on his girlfriend/ wife and how they work through it. Also his family being involved in the fic.

I rarely see fics with Chris cheating, so of course i’ll write this. I just knowwwww Lisa would give that man child hell for it. I include lyrics from the song Battle Scars by Lupe Fiasco and Guy Sebastian, they are in italics.

I really hope you love this...

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, angst and sad themes pretty much. 

Word Count: 5,836

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @voyevoda-thejoy go check them out 💙

Get Through This

You strut into the kitchen of the house you share with your husband Chris, ready to make dinner for the two of you. It’s valentines day and you’ve not seen him for months. He’s been filming and as much as you were aware of what his job entailed, you still get upset whenever he has to leave. But after this project, he’s all yours and Dodgers for a while. You can’t wait.

He texted you to let you know that he’d be home in just under an hour, enough time to start on dinner. 

The table is set, you’re already in a sexy outfit, hidden underneath your silk dressing gown. He’s going to have the best welcome home gift ever and you just know he’s going to be all over you like a rash.

The pasta is cooking so you start on the sauce next, trying your hardest not to fuck this up. He sent god knows how many texts about how much he’s missed your cooking and you want it to perfect for him. He deserves nothing but the best.

As you’re stirring the sauce, your phone goes off, it’s Instagram and then next thing you know. You get a ton of Twitter notifications too. Way too many for your liking. 

You unlock the phone and check Twitter first, seeing as you have the most notifications for that. 

But once you open the messages that are all from the same account. You almost drop your phone at the images on your screen. 

Of Chris.

Kissing another woman. His hands around her waist. You feel sick, numb, broken and stupid. 

He’s your husband. 

Why is he doing this?

I wish i never looked 

I wish i never touched

I wish that i could stop loving you so much

You drop the phone on the kitchen counter and rush over to the sink to be sick. It’s not stopping, you can’t stop it. The thought of him with another woman that’s not you, the thought of him kissing or touching another makes you’re whole body turn cold. The puking continues as more questions and thoughts riddle your brain. 

‘who is she?’

‘why would he do this to you?’

‘how long has it been going on?’

‘how did it start?’

‘is there more to it other than kissing?’

You stand upright, taking a paper towel and using it to wipe your mouth as you try to keep the puke at bay. 

He’s going to be home soon. What the fuck do you even say to him?

You pick the phone back up to see if there was even a message attached to the pictures but there wasn’t. So you go to Instagram to check that, it’s a different account, with the same pictures.

Multiple people have these images. Multiple people know about his actions. What if they end up online? What about your family? His family? What if they see them too?

You try to calm your breathing, your heart is pounding. You can’t stop it, you grip onto the counter, one hand over your chest, as if that will somehow stop the feeling of your heart practically beating it’s way out of your chest. Like somehow it’ll make this all go away.

This robe is way too tight. You struggle to undo it, fiddling with it, your hands are shaky, your breathing turns more erratic. You turn the stove off, rushing upstairs seconds after and into the bedroom you share with your husband.

The same husband that you once trusted with your heart and life. The same husband that you never ever imagined doing this to you but then again, who ever thinks that their partner will ever do this to them? Exactly, it’s always unexpected. 

This has to be a dream, right?

This isn’t like him, this isn’t Chris. Or at least not the Chris you know and love. The Chris you married.

There has to be some kind of explanation right?

No. Stop this Y/N

Cause i’m the only one that’s trying to keep us together

When all of the signs say that i should forget him

There is no explanation for this. No explanation he could possibly give you for kissing another woman and possibly sleeping with her. He looks way too cosy for this to be just a kiss.

There’s more to this. 

You run into the walk in closet, ripping your clothes from their hangers in a panic. Tears fill your eyes and fall down your face. You can’t stop this, the feeling of hurt and betrayal, the pain that fills your body to the brim, drowning you. You feel on the edge of a tall building right now. Like the smallest of movements could happen and you would just fall to the ground. 

You change quickly before you pack everything that you can, everything that belongs to you, your clothes, underwear, toothbrush, skin care shit, make-up. The lot. You pack two suitcases and a duffle bag and that’s only the stuff you need right now. You can always get the rest if you need to. You can’t stay here any longer than you need to though.

But first, you need to face him.

“Honey?” you hear, the familiar Bostonian accent echos through the house as the door slams shut and all of a sudden, there he is in the doorway. 

“Something smells delicious, are you cooking?” he smiles, a fake smile no doubt. Bet he’d rather be with her.

I wish you weren’t the best

The best i ever had

I wish that the good outweighed the bad

You stand there, ignoring his question for a couple seconds as your gaze drops to the screen of your phone. You click on the images and slide the phone over to him. He walks closer “what’s this honey?” and he goes to talk again but soon stops when he realises what they are. 

“Baby, i-i can explain”

“Don’t even bother” 

He walks around the kitchen island to you and you move the bags out the way so that they are in his eye line. He glances over them “what’s all this? Are you leaving me? Please, don’t i can explain all of this?”

As hard as you try not to, you start to cry again. Through the blurred vision, you see him wipe at his face, is he seriously crying too? He’s the one that cheated.

“Don’t start acting like you’re the one upset here Chris. You did this to me, remember?”

“I didn’t mean for anything to happen, i got caught up. It’s no excuse but i really am sorry”

“How long?” you mutter through gritted teeth, not even caring how nasty you sound right now “it was only the once” lies. All lies.

“Don’t fucking lie to me”

He takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender and as soon as he does, Dodger comes running into the room, jumping up Chris and trying to get attention. He bends down, fussing the excited pup that has clearly missed his daddy. 

“Dodge, boo boo” he coos, letting him lick his face. A sight that not even an hour ago would have made your heart melt, a sight that would have been filmed by you for sure and posted on your Instagram for his fans to see.

Once he calms the dog down, he stands up to look at you.

“Can we please just talk this over? Please. I want to sort this”

“What is there to sort Chris? You were with someone else. How many times did you see her? What did you do with her? Is she better than me huh? Can she give you things that i can’t? ANSWER ME DAMMIT”

He jumps at the change in your voice, the shouting. It’s not like you. You’re the most calm person he knows, the one person who he’d say if you were any more laid back then you’d probably fall over. But not this time. You really are mad, which rightly so. He’s hurt you like no one else ever has. 

The man who vowed to love you until death has cheated on you.

I wish i couldn’t feel 

I wish i couldn’t love

I wish that i could stop cause it hurts so much

You pick your bags up and shove past him as he tries to answer but fails. 

That’s when he grabs a hold of your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“I saw her once only, it was on a weekend when i had a break from filming. It wasn’t anymore than that. I promise, i give you my word. It was just that once” he sighs, loosening his grip and letting your wrist go as you stand back to back.

“We just kissed at first, it was a one off kiss. She made the move on me, we were drinking, near my trailer, she was working on the set of the movie. She was assisting the wardrobe department. I kissed her back the second time she made a pass and it got a bit heated but i stopped it”

You feel sick again. Like you could vomit right now just from his explanation.

“Then the third time, i let myself get carried away. We went back to her hotel room and kissed some more, she got on top of me and we got undressed” he stops the story, hearing you sob the way you are right now makes his heart ache.

“We had sex. She started kissing my neck, she was touching me down there and I’m sorry, i’m so sorry honey. I didn’t, i didn’t mean for it to happen. i didn’t mean to lie for so long. She’s not better than you, no woman could ever be better than you” he turns around and so do you, the hurt in his eyes is clear.

“She can’t offer me anything Y/N. I want you, i love you. You’re everything to me. This has eaten away at me for months. I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me”

“Chris” you turn your head, unable to look at him right now. 

“Please, Y/N please” he takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if that is going to make you stay.

You just shake your head, ripping them from his grip.

“I can’t, Chris. I need to go” 

This is hard enough as it is and he’s making it ten times more difficult to leave. This man in front of you, isn’t even recognisable anymore. He’s not the man you married, the man you’ve been with for 10 years. The man you were so close to starting a family with.

That man is gone.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, i didn’t mean for it to happen”

He gets down on his knees, begging for your forgiveness, for you to not walk out of that door.

“I believe that you didn’t mean for it to happen and i believe that you love me but you still let it happen Chris and i just, i can’t be here right now” you pick the bags up and walk away from him but as you get to the door, you hear him crying, not just the regular kind. No. He’s screaming crying, like his heart has just been ripped from his chest, like he knows the mistake he made. 

But does that matter? Does any of that matter now? He still did it.

You open the door and slam it shut, leaving him sat there on the floor.

He knows that this is all his own doing. 

He didn’t mean for it to happen, he was intoxicated and it was all a mistake. He feels empty, without you here. Without your love, your kiss, your touch. He feels completely broken.

You on the other hand are breaking down, in the car, on the way to your sisters house, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on the road. It’s probably not the best idea to drive in your state but you had to get out. You couldn’t have waited around for an Uber. No chance. 

If you stayed any longer, your weak ass would have crumbled in front of him and taken him back. 

And you can’t let that happen right now. You have to respect yourself and your space. Regardless of how much he regrets it, he was still with another woman and that’s not right.

You pull up outside of your sisters house, unannounced. 

You knock the door with your shaky hand, trying to keep the tears back but they fall before she even answers and when she does. You sob, falling into her arms.

She squeezes you tight before breaking away to see your bags, it’s like she knows what’s happened without even needing to ask you.

She guides you inside, sitting you down before taking your bags and leaving them by the staircase. 

You don’t know how you are going to explain everything to her, this is not going to be easy.

--------------------

She rubs your arm as you finish talking, her husband strolls in with a cup of tea for you and you sit there hoping it’ll make everything suddenly become fake. Like it was a dream and you’d snap out of this daze. But you don’t. 

The first sip shocks you as the hot beverage burns your tongue. You’re definitely going to need something stronger.

An hour passes, you cry some more and eventually the tea turns to wine. 

One drink down and you’re rendering on angry now. You can’t control the constant switch in your behaviour because after the second glass, you’re back to the crying again. 

You get to your fifth glass and you’re slurring your words.

That’s when your phone rings, you hear the muffled ring tone so you search in your duffle bag to find it, pulling it out to find that it’s Lisa. Chris’s mother. 

“Answer it” your sister instructs, nodding her head towards the phone.

“Hi Lisa” you muster up the best fake happy voice you can “hi sweetie, is Chris back yet? Because we were all wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner, i’m making a cake for deserts and it’ll be nice to see him”

“Um, he’s back. He got back a couple of hours ago now”

“Are you both free to come by?”

“I’m kinda busy at the moment, you’ll have to ring Chris to see if he’s free” 

Your voice cracks at the end of the sentence, you pray to god that she doesn’t notice but of course, she does.

“What’s wrong sweetie? Where are you, i thought you’d be with him?”

“I’m at my sisters, um. I-” you can’t even finish, Alex takes your phone, raising it to her ear to speak to her for you.

“Hi Lisa, it’s Alex”

“What’s going on?” you can hear her voice despite it not being on speakerphone “it’s Chris, Y/N, received images of him with another woman, he admitted to her that he slept with someone else whilst he was away”

The line goes dead, she hung up. 

Alex, pulls you into her arms once again, cradling you as you let it all out. 

She doesn’t know how to fix you, she wishes she could magically take your pain away. But she can’t. This can’t be fixed by anyone else other than you and Chris. But even then, it would take a lot for you to ever forgive him.

Meanwhile back at your house, Chris is still on the floor. Dodger sits next to him, wagging his tail.

Then a door knocks.

He forces himself up and back onto his feet, dragging them over to go answer it and when he sees his mother, he knows. The look on her face says it all. She pushes past him, making her way into the living room. 

“Ma, i can explain”

“How could you do that to her, Chris. I raised you better than that. To even look at another woman like that is wrong let alone kissing and having sex”

“I know. Ma. It didn’t mean anything. She was nothing to me. I was drunk, i got carried away, i was missing Y/N so much”

“No excuses Chris, you’ve messed up. I can’t believe you. I’m so disappointed and confused. You’re a grown man, a married man”

“I know” 

“You need to fix this, prove to her that you love her and that it won’t happen again. Because right now, she’s at her sisters house, barely able to get her words out”

He looks down, not able to even give direct eye contact to the woman who raised him, the woman who taught him right from wrong. She didn’t raise no cheater or no quitter.

She raised a boy to a man who knew how to respect everyone around him, how to treat a lady, how to carry himself. A man who wears his heart on his sleeve and loves with everything in his body. A man who is sensitive yet strong.

“She won’t forgive me ma, i’ve fucked it. I can’t lose her”

“Right now, you need to give her space, let her breathe, but once she’s had that, she’ll have calmed down and maybe she’ll hear you out. But you need to work for this son, this won’t come easily. Remember what i’ve always told you?”

“Nothing good or worth fighting for, comes easy”

She leans in, opening her arms for her broken son, soothing him with ‘sh, it’s going to be okay’s’ and ‘i got you’s’

--------------------

“Could you ever see yourself forgiving him?”

You go to respond but you’re mind keeps on replaying all the things he said before you left, that he didn’t mean it and she meant nothing.

“I don’t know. I love him so much Al. He’s my husband. Of course i want to fight for this but i don’t know if i’m strong enough”

“If there’s one thing i’ve realised over the years, when it comes to you and Chris. There’s nothing the two of you can’t do. No obstacle that you can’t face together. He made a mistake which granted was wrong and horrible and there’s no doubt in my mind that he genuinely got caught up with drinking. But he loves you, i know he does. You just need to ask yourself if you could even try to move on”

Her words have you all in your head, wondering if you can. Could you?

He slept with her, he kissed her, saw her naked. Is that forgivable? He cheated, touched another woman, kissed another woman, undressed another woman.

You’re going to need a couple of days to think, clear your head.

Lisa makes her way over to your sisters place, not caring how fast she’s driving. You need her now more than ever. She might only be your mother in law but since you lost your own mom. She’s made sure to check on you more, spend more time with you. 

You’re her third daughter and she adores you.

“Oh sweetie, come here” Alex’s husband, lets her in and she sees your tear stained face. 

You grip onto her so tight, like she’s the only thing keeping you glued together.

“I went to see him”

You motion for her to continue “he’s not good. He’s in a bad way, i know he’s messed up Y/N. And believe me, he knows that too. He told me what he did, everything. He knows it was wrong and how mad i am at him, how upset i am with him. But he loves you, so much. You’re everything to him, he wants to work through it”

“I want to work through it too but i’m scared, scared that he’ll do it again”

“After how i just saw him, i’ve never seen him that distraught, he loves you. It was a drunken mistake and it didn’t mean anything to him”

“Nothing good or worth fighting for ever comes easy”

It’s her little phrase, if you will. She always says it, whenever one of us is upset or going through a hard time. Whenever we can’t find the strength, she comes around, speaking words of wisdom and easing us.

“I think what you need now is space. Think things over, he’s willing to wait until you’re ready to talk” 

She spends some time with you, talking it over with you and Alex. Going over the details of what he did is her way of healing you. You need to be able to talk about it out loud before you face him because if you can’t then you’re going to struggle when it comes down to it.

“He said he missed you so much, that’s why he was drinking and got caught up” more tears brim in your eyes “i love him so much Lisa” her sympathetic smile comes out “and he loves you sweetie, more than you know”

Maybe her advice is what’s best for now. You need space.

Eventually, she leaves, giving you a hug before letting you get some rest.

You get changed after a shower and head to the guest room to sleep. 

Tomorrow is just another day of thinking and crying.

---------------------

It’s been 2 full days now and as you lay in bed, preparing to sleep before the third day starts, you check your phone to find a text from him.

‘I know i should leave you to it right now, give you space but you need to know this. 

When i first met you, you came into my life at a time where i had pretty much given up all hope when it came to love, i was certain that i was doomed and bound to end up alone forever. And then i met you and everything fell into place.

I was certain from the first date, that you were the one. Sounds pretty cliche when i come to think of it, but it’s true. I just knew.

You weren’t like other women, you still aren’t. You don’t doll yourself up all of the time, you prefer to keep the natural look, which i also prefer. You don’t try too hard, you’re effortlessly funny and beautiful.

You’re sarcastic but serious.

Everything about you just made me fall deeper, i couldn’t stop myself and as scared as i was, i didn’t want to stop it. I was relishing in the feeling of how i felt around you. How happy and unstoppable i felt. Like i could achieve anything with you around. 

You are the only woman i’ve ever loved that quickly. Normally love takes time but with you it didn’t. I had no trouble. It was like loving you came so naturally to me, like it was second nature.

Whilst i was away filming, i missed you so much and it had only been a couple weeks, i didn’t want to bother you too much, which is no excuse for how i acted but even so. I let myself get carried away with another woman who at a time of loneliness, gave me attention. It wasn’t right, it was wrong, so wrong and it’s forever going to remain the biggest mistake of my life.

I never wanted to hurt you, but i did. I’m supposed to be your husband, you’re supposed to be able to trust me and yet i snapped that trust into a million pieces. I let you down, i made you cry, i made you question who i was and why you even married me. I made myself unrecognisable in your eyes and that thought alone, makes me sick to my stomach, it makes me angry. Angry at who i let myself become.

Because i wasn’t raised to treat women that way. 

But you know as well as i do that it was nothing but a drunken mistake, a mistake that for as long as you’ll let me, i’ll spend forever trying to make up for. 

You mean too much to me for me to let it go. You’re my whole world. You make me the happiest man alive, you make every day worth living to the fullest. You make me a better person.

Y/N, i love you, it was once and it will never happen again. I want to make this work. I’m not asking for you to forgive me right this second and run back to my arms but even if it’s just a talk at first. One step at a time, i’m here and i want to make it work.

I love you with all my heart, honey. I want you back. I want to prove to you that you can trust me. I want to try. Anyway, you should get some sleep, i’ll see you whenever you’re ready. Love you x’

You wipe away the tears that fell whilst reading his message.

He’s never done anything like that before, whenever you’ve had a fight, he’s emotional and apologetic and he tries to make it right but right now. You’re seeing a different side to him.

You want nothing more than to go back home now. Slip into bed with him and have him wrap his arms around you tight, kiss your forehead and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep but you can’t. 

Maybe in a couple of days.

-------------------

You sip at your coffee, staring into space, your mind going over everything that you want to say to him.

You’ve decided that today is the day. After 3 days apart, you’re going to talk to him. 

It’s time.

You snap out of the daze, thanks to Alex clicking her fingers and asking some questions about breakfast to which you decline. You can’t even think about eating right now. It’s the last thing on your mind.

“I think i’m gonna head out”

“Are you sure you wanna do this today? There’s no time limit Y/N”

“No, i want to do this”

She hugs you goodbye, letting you know that you’re welcome to return afterwards, an offer you accept. Even if this chat goes well, you can’t just sleep there tonight, you’ll still need more space.

You get into your car and let out a deep breath that you’ve held in for days, it’s been making you tense. A feeling you still have and can’t shake, it’s weighing you down. The stress.

It doesn’t take long to get back home. You park up and let yourself in the house, you spot the mail on the floor so you bend down to pick it up and as you stand, he’s stood there, in nothing but his boxers. He’s just woken up.

“I didn’t think i’d see you for a long time” he mumbles, looking down at his bare feet “yeah well, we have a lot to talk about” he nods, gesturing for you to lead the way to the lounge.

You both sit down after he makes you a drink. Neither of you really say a word, just sitting there in silence for a couple of minutes. 

But eventually he breaks it.

“I’m sorry. I know those words get tossed around a lot like they don’t mean a thing but they do to me and i’m so so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean what i did and you didn’t deserve what i did. It was a mistake and i want to prove that it was a mistake and that i love you and only you”

“But how do you expect us to move past this Chris, to move forward?” a serious question that he looks dumbfounded by “i don’t expect anything Y/N. But to answer your question, i think that with time, talking and working together, we can do this, we can move forward”

“But how? How can that ever happen? And why should i agree to that?”

“Because i’m your husband, i’ve not acted like that lately but i am. I’m your husband and i love you and i swear to you right now that it’ll never happen again”

He glances over at you, resting his hand on yours and you hold it, letting him in a little.

“I love you too” 

Your way of letting him know that his wife hasn’t left him, his wife is still here. You’re still here.

“Do you want me? Do you want to work to fix this, to let me fix this?”

“I do”

You shock yourself with your response. It’s not the route that everyone would take. Most women would leave, never look back and do better. But this is different. You’re married to this man, you’ve spent 10 years building a life with this man, preparing to start a family. You can’t give up so easily. Even if it isn’t the way everyone else would handle it. 

After all though, even Alex said it. There is nothing you and Chris can’t get through.

You’ve had many ups and downs, more than a rollercoaster has but you pushed through. 

Like the time that you almost broke up after a year, because long distance just wasn’t working. You were both struggling. He was away filming for Marvel and you were living in London, getting your degree. 

Eventually though, you decided that you loved each other too much to throw it away. 

Or the time that your mom passed and you were turning your back on everyone who cared for you. Snapping at Chris way more than usual. You said some harsh words to him one day and he didn’t speak to you for days. He was mad. Hurt. 

And of course there have been more occasions where you’ve argued or had limits tested, buttons pushed. But it was always saved. This isn’t a lost cause now either, it can be fixed.

“I hope you can forgive me”

“I can’t promise anything Chris. But i can try to work it out”

He rests his forehead to yours, the pair of you sigh before he presses a kiss to your lips. 

A kiss that makes your body shiver, the fireworks are still there. His love, it’s still there. It might actually all be okay. Soon.

----------------------

* A year later*

You take a seat on the comfortable chair, for the last time. A mixture of feelings fill your body. Nerves, happiness, hope and optimism. 

“I understand that today is our last session, how do you feel these sessions have gone. Chris?”

“I think that they’ve gone well. They’ve certainly helped us. I feel that i’m slowly gaining trust back”

“How about you Y/N?”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s definitely been a hard journey but a positive one nonetheless. It’s helped with getting a more in depth look as to why he cheated. I certainly feel more at ease with him now”

If someone would have suggested marriage counselling to you just weeks after Chris cheated, you’d have laughed at them and said no way. But you don’t know why you’d have done that when it’s seemed to work wonders for the two of you.

After that talk a year ago. You went back to your sisters, took more time for yourself and eventually he asked you out, on a date. He wanted to start over, spend time with you and get to know you as if it was the first time all over again.

But once you worked your way into you moving back in, Lisa suggested marriage therapy. And now you’re on your last visit. You definitely trust him more now than what you did before. Because you’ve had time to spend more hours together, more time off work to bond all over again. 

“Where are you at now, in your mindset?”

“I’m at the stage of trusting him again, slowly but surely it’s happening. I forgive him. I forgive his mistakes and i forgive myself too, for taking him back. Because i think for so long i beat myself up about it but i realise that i’m human, he’s my husband and to let him go would never have been easy. But i’m glad i didn’t, i’m glad i stuck with him and i feel like we’ve come out the other side stronger”

“I couldn’t agree more” Chris says as she turns to him, raising her brow as if to ask him the same question.

“I forgive myself too, for doing what i did and i let it go, i’ve stopped letting it weigh me down. We’re doing okay, it’s nowhere near where we want to be or how we used to be but we’re getting there, one day at a time”

The session eventually ends, leaving you feeling very weird. Like it’s the end of a chapter. 

The first proper start to the rest of your lives, after everything. 

And you’re feeling very positive about the future. As is he. You see a future, there are rainbows at the end of dark times and it’s possible. Anything is possible when you work together as a team.

“I love you” he says as you both get into his car, before he turns the key in the ignition.

“I love you too Chris”

“We’re going to be okay aren’t we?”

“We are”

---------------------

General Tag List: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferouss @bradfordmyworld 

Just Chris & His Characters Tag List: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 

[lucifers-horror-harem]

Heyy so I was wondering if you could do a nsfw alphabet for Brahms? 🥺

Hey I’m sorry it took me a hot sec to post anything in a while but hopefully you enjoy! I love doing these alphabets cause it helps me get a better feel for the character.

Brahms N/S/F/W Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Brahms is a clingy boy after sex, typically wrapping himself around your body and refusing to let go. You’re his teddy bear and he’ll throw a tantrum if you refuse to snuggle with him afterward. He loves leaving kisses along your neck and jaw and humming so deeply it reminds you of a purring cat.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hands are probably his favorite part of his. Especially after meeting you and reveling in how you react to his touch. No matter your size he will always see you as smaller and more fragile than him and seeing his big hands gripping your wrists or holding onto your waist always get him going. 

While he would love every part of his partner unconditionally, his favorite part would be their eyes. There’s so much emotion he can see from them, he can tell when you’re happy, worried, upset, or needy. He can’t get enough of the way you look at him with such softness when he is at his most gentle and desire when he is teasing you. And sometimes, he gets a thrill out of the look of fear in your eyes when he is being more dominant and direct with you, liking to see just how much of an effect he has on you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Brahms will certainly make a mess out of you if you’ll allow him. He really can’t decide where he likes to come the best. A few of his favorite places would be your chest, along your stomach and thighs, and inside of you. He gets a rush seeing you covered in his come like he’s laid claim to you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Brahms has loads of dirty secrets, he's lived in the walls for most of his life so everything of his is a dirty secret. But one of the dirtiest that he has is that before he revealed himself to you, he would steal your underwear and watch you through the walls. You wouldn't have to be doing anything explicitly erotic, but anytime his urges got the better of him and when he felt he might lose himself and lunge out of the walls to grab you, he will take your underwear and jerk it off along his cock, the fabric adding much-needed friction for him to satiate his urges and come before he does anything too rash. As he usually makes a mess of your underwear, you find you're missing a lot of pairs frequently, both clean ones and ones from the hamper. Because you know Brahms is a dirty boy and would definitely get off on inhaling your smell as well. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is a virgin, no question. The most experience that Brahms has is what he's read in the books on his shelves. He most likely hasn't read actual erotica but the books that he's read might have some sexual scenes or descriptions of such things (albeit probably only from very older books that use way too many euphemisms and flowery language). He is also aware of reproduction and how to have sex through diagrams in stuffy anatomy and biology books. As a lot of his knowledge is in a scientific context, he will really need you to guide him the first few times. After that, it's no holds barred. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has a hard time deciding. Brahms really enjoys missionary so he can pin you down and watch every expression on your face as he pleasures you. However, he is also partial to doggy style because sometimes he gets so worked up that he can’t help but want to take you as roughly and deeply as possible. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Brahms is always more serious during intimate moments, the most he might do is a little laugh as he teases you. He’s not one for joking during sex simply because he is still a little insecure about his abilities, though if you’re with him for long enough he might start to loosen up a bit.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Have you SEEN how hairy this man is??? Brahms has probably never used a razor in his entire life so he's a full wolfman. He also never really had opportunities to clean himself fully like in a shower (the most he probably does is a makeshift sponge bath if even that) so you're most likely going to have to get him used to proper hygiene unless you like a very stinky wall boy. He also wouldn't bother with his body hair on his own unless you offered to trim it for him. A full shave anywhere right off the bat might not be too good either, because he will feel naked and itchy for days. You will have to get used to some hair on him because even if you were offering him kisses as rewards for shaving he wouldn't let himself be completely shaved head to toe. As it is, it'll be an absolute pain trying to get Brahms to agree to you manscaping him below the belt because it is certainly a mess down there. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Brahms is always romantic during intimate moments. Or at least, what he believes is romantic. Most of the time he is simply overwhelmed by his desire for you and if he can manage it in the heat of the moment he will grunt how beautiful and lovely you are in your ear as he thrusts into you, praising and telling you that you’re all his and no one else’s. His heart is in the right place but you might need to help him understand the nuances of romance.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Absolutely. While he might have associations with it being a dirty act from being punished by his mother, he still finds he cannot help himself when he first saw you through the walls. Mostly it’s a way for him to calm himself down and take control of himself again when he feels the urge to reveal himself to you. At first it might begin when he sees you changing or showering, but it could escalate to him just jacking off to you doing simple tasks around the house. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Brahms might have a hard time putting words to describing what his kinks are because he has been so sheltered, but he has far too many to count. Essentially when he finds his perfect person to be the nanny at the Heelshire mansion, his kink will be everything about you. You yourself are what turns him on the most. He’s a huge voyeur, no surprise there. He also has a bit of a size kink because of his size compared to you. Essentially if his partner is involved, he will be down to do or try anything. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves dragging you in the walls and having sex with you pinned flush against the wall. While he’s thrusting into you from behind, he’ll make you look through one of his peepholes and tell you exactly what he does while he watches you through them. His bed in the walls is another favorite place, mostly because he can keep you between the wall and him and you would have to get through him if you wanted to get up. He likes having you all trapped for himself. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, anything can turn Brahms on when it comes to you. You could show this boy a bare ankle and he would instantly nut. But if you really want to drive him crazy, wear revealing clothing. Lingerie, booty shorts, crop tops, leggings, skirts, anything that covers you while also teasing what is underneath. He won’t be able to control himself and he will either pester you all day about giving him attention or simply tackling you on the spot and giving all of his love right then and there.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Absolutely will not share you with anyone else. He refuses to even entertain that notion. On a similar note, he wouldn’t be interested in public sex, not that he leaves the Hillshire mansion anyways, but he refuses to even think about someone other than him looking at you in such a vulnerable position. You’re his and his alone.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He is usually more of a giver. Brahms always wants to make sure you’re taken care of, and as someone who is horny for praise, he gets off on getting you off. And if you tell him what a good boy he’s being? Instant nut. Though he will never turn down oral from you, though he might be a little twitchy about it at first. He’s not used to someone pleasuring him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

When he’s horny and in more of his man persona, he’s all sorts of feral and rough with you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take his time, he’s just usually so pent up and has such a high sex drive that he can’t help himself. It’s possible for him to go slower but it will take a lot of urging him and a bit more willpower on his end, as well as the promise of rewards if he does.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

All. The. TIME. Since he’s been so pent up for years upon years in the walls, any small action from you will get him needy. If you’re not careful, he’ll bend you over every surface in the house, and then when he’s done will scurry away while you’re sitting there trying to process what just happened, all the while cursing him for making you horny in the process, thus continuing the cycle. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Brahms is hardly a risk-taker in his own life and any sort of change will upset him. Even spending more time outside the walls is tough for him, but once he’s grown used to you the risky behavior he will have is having sex outside the walls or your bedroom. For someone so used to sneaking out of the walls without being spotted and getting reprimanded by his parents, it’s a thrilling experience for him to be so naughty out in the open with no one scolding him for it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While he isn’t one to last a long time, he can go for as many rounds as he can stand. Since just about everything about you gets him in the mood, he could have just orgasmed and will start getting hard again. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Brahms doesn’t personally own any toys but if you do he won’t protest. The only thing he might not like is if you use them by yourself. He wants to be a part of the fun too, whether he’s using them on you, you on him, or both of you using them together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He LOVES teasing. Any opportunity to see your flustered expression while you try to scold him is one he will take. Plus he loves seeing just how needy he can get you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Brahms usually isn’t loud at all especially if the sex is slower. He might make a few moans here and there. But when he’s needy for you he will make all sorts of animalistic grunts and groans. He’s less talkative except to tell you how good you’re being for him. He usually gets so carried away that he can hardly speak and mostly just moans in your ear as he ruts into you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Brahms is a curious boy, and on some occasions when he steals your underwear he’s attempted to wear it. Especially anything soft and silky you might own, it’s a different sensation on his body that he isn’t used to and the whole debaucherous act leaves him unable to contain himself. You might have to invest in buying him his own undies. But even then he would prefer to steal yours because they smell like you. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is slightly above average length but he is also endowed in the girth department. Again, lots of hair down there. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

The easiest way to explain his sex drive is that he is the kind of guy to get hard over any bare bit of skin not covered. He will settle down more the longer you're together, but he still acts like a feral animal anytime he sees you. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will be out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow. Get used to falling asleep with his arms and legs wrapped around you and his chin resting on your head. Good luck if you need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

[kaekiro]

Lest

Pairing: Eren/Mikasa II Rating: T II Words: 3032 II [AO3] Warnings: Mentions of blood and death A/N: In which Eren thinks Mikasa is dead and he doesn’t know how to cope. Instead, he acts a bit aggressively out of despair and frustration. Alternate canon au where EM is 19 yo and are already together. 

A few months ago, an AO2 user by the name of Lola left a comment on chapter 49 requesting that I write this! I don't think I've written one of these before, so I took all the pent up angst from the recent manga chapters and dumped it into here 😅 Hope you like it! P.S. I threw in a reference from the Netflix Series Dark! If you know the series, see if you can spot it!

The news didn’t quite register in his mind. He fell out of touch from reality, hoping that this was some kind of nightmare that she’d wake him from, like she always did. The messenger left in a rush soon after the written note was handed off to the Captain, and he felt his body go stiff the moment the paper was lowered and Levi glanced to him, then to Armin. Levi’s eyes betrayed nothing, but he knew deep down that something was wrong. And when his fears were confirmed, his blood froze over, stilling every limb and breath and bodily function for a long moment.

“Mikasa is missing.” 

He blinked rapidly, unbelievingly, and he almost wanted to laugh because surely the Captain was just making another bad joke. Mikasa and her going missing is something that did not go together, it was impossible. Unthinkable. He looked to Armin for assurance, expecting him to voice these exact thoughts. But his best friend’s face reflected the anxiety he struggled to repress, and that was when he began to realize the gravity of the situation. Levi wasn’t joking, and Mikasa was missing. 

He stood and walked out of the room with firm intent, ready to get his gear together and leave to go find her. 

“Eren,” Armin called, following him out of the room, reaching out to touch his shoulder.  “Eren,” he said more sharply, moving to quickly jump in front of him and block his path. He glared hard, wondering why he wasn’t as eager to help or even join him. 

“What?” 

“I know what you’re planning. You can’t go out there.”

“And why not?” he challenged, his frustration and impatience flaring. “Mikasa could be hurt and she needs me. She needs us.”

“Or,” Armin began, stepping to block his attempt to get around him, “she could be okay. It takes time for these messages to be delivered. During that time, or even right now, she could’ve already used a flare to signal her and her squad’s location. Or they could have been found by other scouts. This is Mikasa we’re talking about. Have some faith in her. Who knows, she could return here by tomorrow morning after they check her health. Just -- don’t do anything rash. We don’t have the resources to help keep you safe out there. And we don’t need any more people going missing, you of all. ” 

He saw reason in what Armin was saying, he truly did. But the sense of alarm did not falter. Instead, it kept nagging and screaming that something was not right. It wasn’t easy, but he stayed quiet and swallowed a whole lot of what he was feeling, knowing and repeating to himself that Armin’s instincts hardly missed their mark. He also knew that he could trust in Mikasa’s abilities, trust in her to come back. He had to focus on that, lest he go insane with worry. 

-----

Without waiting to be told, he woke up earlier than his squadmates and began chopping wood outside. The exercise helped burn away the stress he still couldn’t shake off, but the real reason he was out here so early is that he wanted to be the first to greet Mikasa. He pictured lecturing her for scaring him, checking over her injuries himself if she had any. And perhaps, when they were alone, he’d take her in his arms just to feel her’s wrap around him, to prove that she was really okay and that he didn’t need to get as worked up as he is. The thought makes his face warmer but heart lighter. Yeah, he would definitely do that. All he needed to do was wait for her. 

Yet, no one showed up that day. 

-----

He didn’t mean to do it. 

This realization dawns on him when the room falls silent and he feels Jean restraining his arms, sees Armin gazing down at the broken teacup with tears in his eyes. 

The liquid that dribbled from the wall and seeped into the floorboards used to be warm. It was the Captain that had heated the tea, suggesting that Sasha bring it up to him as he hadn’t left Mikasa’s room since they all found out the news. Unable to sleep, he was the one a new messenger delivered the news to early in the morning. He should’ve given it to the Captain as it was his message, but desperation took over and before he knew it, he lost complete sense of balance and stumbled until his back met something solid, eyes wide but unseeing as the unfolded paper fell to the ground. Some of the corpses retrieved were scouts that were part of her squad. The mission had transitioned from a search to a recovery effort for Mikasa’s and the others’ bodies. Involuntarily, he recalled what the bodies looked like during the recovery missions he’d been a part of, imagined seeing a bloodied sheet with a tattooed wrist peeking out. He distantly heard a shout of his name as he doubled over and vomited out what little he had in his stomach.

He doesn’t remember when or how he got to her room. But his body was curled on her bed, stiff, unmoving, and to his misfortune, awake. Sasha must’ve known this as she quietly stepped into the room because she offered words of comfort, trying to sound optimistic yet her voice lacked the hope he desperately needed. He didn’t reply to her, did nothing to acknowledge her presence at all and she had in turn understood, whispered her condolences after setting down the steaming cup on the desk, and shut the door behind her. There was a fleeting feeling of guilt in his stomach when he ignored Sasha and let the tea go to waste, but it couldn’t be helped. The only thing that managed to bring him some semblance of consolation was turning further into Mikasa’s pillow and breathing in softly, the pleasant scent of her hair and clothes barely there, but there nonetheless. 

Falling asleep had been a slow and painful process for him, his mind and thoughts consumed by worry and memories of her. In his dreams, she was beside him as she’d always been, weakly scolding him about something he didn’t pay any mind to because she was so close and cleaning his cheek with her handkerchief. He wanted nothing more than to grab hold of the front of her jacket, to tug her closer and press his mouth to hers just to see her surprised reaction. But when he did, what he thought was a dream instantly turned into a nightmare. He pulled back to look at her and suddenly found himself kneeling over her body, his hands and her clothes stained with her blood. She tried to tell him something and he knew it was important with how she was clutching onto him, but she could only manage a terrifying mix between a gurgle and cough before the light left her eyes. He shook terribly, would have screamed if the pain hadn’t made it impossible to breathe. Tears fell from his eyes as did promises from his lips, whimpers of I’ll make it right filling the space between them as he clutched the hand that fell from his cloak, his other hand moving to gently close her eyes. 

He woke up in a panic then, became even more frightened when Jean and Armin came into his line of sight as they shook him awake. 

“Eren!” Jean whispered harshly, “snap out of it! It’s just us!” 

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face as Armin helped steady his breathing, both of them taking in lungfuls of air and breathing out slowly, over and over and over. Eventually, with his legs tossed over the edge of her bed, he buried his face in his hands, rubbing furiously at his eyes to try and erase the remnants of his nightmare. Jean and Armin carefully sat on either side of him, offering their presence as he grieved. 

“Why did I let her go?” he asked tearfully, to neither of them in particular. 

“...Eren,” Armin started slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t give up hope just yet. It’s only been a couple of days. There’s no confirmation that…” the last words of his sentence, the ‘she's dead’ remained unspoken, but the three of them were painfully aware of it. Armin continued. 

“A-and besides… there was no way you could have known that—”

He startles both his friends when he stands up, grabbing the cup full of tea and smashing it against the wall. He completely ignored the cries of his name and would've swiped the books and sewing kit off Mikasa’s desk if Jean hadn’t forcefully held him back. 

“I did know!” he cried, tears dripping from his chin. Armin was telling him to be hopeful, but he knew that tone, knew that it meant that his best friend was assuming the worst, just like him. “From the very beginning, right when the three of us agreed to join the military! I just knew that something like this would happen, and I still let her follow me here!” 

The deafening silence that follows is what slowly drags him back to a more sensible state, enough for him to realize what he’s done. He takes in the scene before him, the broken glass, the tears in Armin’s wide eyes, Jean’s hands struggling to keep their grip on his forearms. What would Mikasa think…

His arms go slack at that thought. He wishes she was here to hold his hand like she used to when he was overwhelmed, and tell him that even if things didn’t turn out alright, she’d be right there. Perhaps she was there with him. Even if he couldn’t see her. He never believed in those kinds of things if he was honest, there wasn’t anything to prove it was true. But… there wasn’t anything to prove it was entirely false either.... and the idea that she might be here made him shift entirely. She wouldn’t want him to react this way, yet here he was, making a mess and about to damage her belongings. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, to Armin and Jean, to Mikasa. The hands holding his forearms let go. “I didn’t mean to…” 

He sees Armin nod, quickly wiping at his nose. “I’ll get something to pick this up—”

“No.” He reaches for the candle one of them had set on Mikasa’s dresser, using the light to carefully step around the broken glass. “I made this mess, I’ll clean it up.” 

“Eren,” Jean says as he clamps a hand on his shoulder. “you look like a pile of shit and you’re not doing well. Let Armin and me handle this.”

He sniffles, looking down. “You forgot to say ‘no offense.’”

“I fully intended to offend you.”

Though he can’t bring himself to smile, Jean acting like a jackass the way they always did with one another helped him a little bit, and it was enough to convince him to agree. When everything was picked up and fixed, they coaxed him to sleep in a different room, reasoning that he’d been in there all day and it’d be better if he was with them, in case of another nightmare. He takes one last look into her bedroom before leaving, an ache spreading within his hands and chest as he remembers sneaking in there late at night a little over a week ago, letting her head rest on his shoulder and arm sling over his abdomen. She was so warm, and the steady rhythm of her breath lulled him to sleep just minutes after laying next to her. He can’t imagine what he wouldn’t give just to be like that, at least one last time.  

-----

His eyes feel swollen and uncomfortably dry when he opens them, doing so long enough to notice the unmade sheets on the mattresses and floor, how he was the only one in the room. The morning light becomes too much after a few seconds and he closes them once more, his exhaustion from yesterday making him slump further into the flat pillow. I’m so tired… I wouldn’t mind if I could stay just like this for a while… 

He doesn’t know how much time passes but eventually, he feels his hair, outgrown and tangled, being pushed away from his face. The gentle nature of the touch is light but so familiar that he immediately peeks his eyes open, the silhouette blurry but undoubtedly her. His lips curl into a lazy and content smile before they part to say her name, his voice raspy but soft. Bit by bit, his vision clears until he can finally see her small, pretty smile. 

“Eren,” she responds evenly, her fingers carefully untangling the lock of hair caught on them. Her other hand is pressed against the floor she’s sitting on, supporting her weight as she leans heavily to one side. What he wants most is to nudge his way over and rest his head on her lap, but he hardly has the energy to keep his eyes open. And the soothing feeling of her movements was not helping at all. 

“Why are you on the floor? And not in your bed?” 

Not entirely sure himself, he makes a noise that, if anything, only tells how tired he is. She seems to leave the short line of questioning at that, successfully untangling another knot. “Well… you should start waking up so you can eat something before Sasha helps herself.”

A sense of anxiety washes over him for reasons he can’t fully remember at the moment, and he only shakes his head like a stubborn child, burying half his face into the pillow as if it helps make a point. All he knew was that if he listened to her, what has been happening the past couple of nights would happen again; he’d wake up from his dream and she would disappear along with it.

“I don’t want to wake up. I want to stay in this dream,” he says quietly, wistfully, closing his eyes tighter.

“...What?” he hears her ask, feeling her shake her head as she reaches down to touch his face and swipe her thumb across his cheekbone affectionately. “Eren… you’re not dreaming.”

He frowns and he opens an eye to look at her as if she’s said something crazy. 

“What do you mean I’m not dreaming?” 

“....You’re not dreaming? I don’t know a simpler way to say it.”

It takes all his effort but he pushes himself to sit upright then, a little more awake and even more confused. He takes in the sight of her, the concern on her face, and remembers thinking that he’d never get to see it again. That’s right, Mikasa was “missing,” but scouts were looking for her body. He had lost her. He briefly glances around the room, noting the white sheets and how they reflect the sunlight in a way that makes the room seem unnaturally bright, like he was in some kind of dream. Was this heaven? The afterlife?

“Am…. am I dead?” he genuinely asks, eyes widening.

Mikasa looks at him as if he suddenly sprouted an extra head, fixing herself into a kneel and pushing her palm against his forehead, the back of her other hand checking the temperature of his face and neck. “Do you have a fever or something? Why are you asking such strange things?” 

The firm and real touch of her hand snaps him out of whatever delirium he’s experiencing and he just stares at her, watches how she frets over his unkempt state. He couldn’t pay any mind to his dumb and embarrassing questions because this wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t dead. This is real. Tears start to pool in his eyes, falling from them in thick droplets.

She looks even more worried, opening her mouth to probably ask more questions but before she can, he grips her arms and pulls her close to wrap his arms around her waist, his entire being weak and ready to collapse at the relief that pulses through him. He clenches his jaw tight, stifling his sobs but unable to control how they wrack his body. Her scarf catches the tears that won’t stop falling, and he only embraces her harder as he manages a barely audible, “I thought you weren’t coming back… I thought I lost you…” 

He knows that she finally understands the reason behind his bizarre behavior when she relaxes against him, her arms curling around his shoulders and head resting against his. 

“I’m sorry, Eren...”  

They stay like that for a few moments longer until her left hand coaxes him to look at her, her thin fingers wiping at the wet and darkened skin beneath his eye. “Plans were compromised, and we lost more than expected,”  she explains regrettably, her gaze fixed on her movements. “A small group of us were stranded for a short while, but… but I’m here now.” 

Her voice and words reverberate so nicely in his ears after spending so many hours longing to hear them, and yet there is a part of him that still feared that somehow this wasn’t real. Even awake and wound up in each other's embrace, he wasn’t entirely convinced, and he was becoming acutely aware of how he craved something more. So, in response, he nudges her hand away from his face so he can cup her cheeks and swiftly guide her lips to his. She inhaled sharply through her nose, clearly blindsided by his kiss and he would’ve felt more sorry if it wasn’t for the soft sensation of her lips, her breath and skin reassuringly warm against his face. His slight regret for surprising her (especially in a way neither of them was used to) diminishes entirely when her hands rise to wrap around his wrists and she kisses him back, over and over. When he pulls away, greeted by the sight of her blush and shy gaze, he takes in a lungful of air, finally feeling like he can truly breathe.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

horny horny horny thinking about knowing H has to take that pic so you slowly rub your thumb over his slit and jerk him off since the camera can’t see you

You hadn’t been able to keep your hands off him since you both got out of the shower; there’d been too much foreplay within the steamy, dangerously close proximity for you to withhold any longer.

It’d started innocently enough with him helping wash down your back with a sudsy loofah as you massaged shampoo into his sopping curls. He hadn’t meant for it to escalate the way it did— he just wanted it to be a nice couple activity that would help both of you unwind from the recent stressors that had been set on the world’s shoulders.

Harry had pulled you close under the drizzling stream of warm water, working the soapy sponge down the curved line that accentuated the center of your spine, rolling it in lazy circles across the dip of your back. His head had nuzzled into your damp neck, mouth pressing to the mellow pulse, the skin of his lips rubbery and squeaky against your own.

You had squeezed out a decently sized glob of shampoo into the palm of your hand, slowly carding your fingers into his matted ringlets, starting at the nape of his neck and working the product upwards tenderly into his scalp.

The soothing motions of the pads of your digits had made his knees buckle slightly, a gurgley, raw moan elbowing its way out from the back of his throat without his permission. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby.”

The vibrations of the deep groan had sunken into the flexing tendons of your throat, radiating through your entire body and burrowing into your bones. You’d nearly collapsed in his lean arms right then and there.

You get the feeling he could sense the impact it’d had on you due to the way his forearms had tightened around your torso; it was like he could sense your limbs about to give out into him.

Your lips had flushed against the penetrating thump echoing in his temple, your fingers winding harder into his hair until he released a tiny, guttural whimper. Your voice had come out as a wispy mumble, drunk on the sensation of his nails gently scraping up and down the fleshy mounds of your hips. “Missed this.”

Harry’s nod has been slow and numb, his eyes lulled shut and mind half submerged in the comforting heat exchanging between your tangled bodies, also lost in the pattering of the water working the knots out of his tense back. When he spoke, his words were a low and jumbled hazy mess, accent slathered thicker than usual. “God, I fucking missed you.”

A fond, flattered smile had wrestled with your cheeks. “Yeah?”

“So much— more than anything.” Harry’s lips had started rubbing against the faint outline of your collarbones, the breath of his sentences searing your skin with pinpricks of pleasure. “Missed your smell and your smile and how pretty you look when you sleep. Missed the way you snort when you laugh too hard and the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when I compliment you because they get all hot.”

Your feet are suddenly swept from under you, sliding backwards across the slippery tiles as Harry’s arm lifts you off the shower floor just enough to easily glide you towards the nearest wall.

The marble is freezing cold when it hits your back, causing your nails to instinctively rake into his scalp. He seems to enjoy it, obvious in how he pools an appreciative hum into the alcove at the center of your jugular.

He draws back a bit and plunks his forehead to yours, eyebrows furrowing as his lashes flutter and intermingle with your own, muted green irises dazed. You can feel the creases that form between his brows tickle your wet skin.

A sheepish murmur burns your cupid’s bow. “Promised myself I wouldn’t make this about sex so quickly.”

You gift him a gradual bat of your eyes, tongue peeking out to stifle some of the itching running across your upper lip. “Why’s that?”  

The way you’re ogling up at him with that innocent doe-like gaze is wearing away at the scarce traces of sanity he has left. He swallows thickly, gnawing at the inside of his cheek to reign in some control, his eyes softening with affection. “Hadn’t seen you in so long that I just wanted to spend some quality time together. Don’t want you to think I’m with you just for the shagging.”

You burst into a round of airy laughter, head falling back and thunking hollowly against the speckled black wall of the bathroom. “S’not really a problem to me given that the shagging is pretty good.”

Harry’s swollen, tinted lips break into a sly grin of their own, the tip of his nose streaking across yours in an intimate, light-heated gesture. A boyish giggle flutters in the back of his throat, two front teeth tugging at his lower lip thoughtfully. “It is really fucking good, isn’t it?”

You mirror his action as images of past nights flicker behind your eyes like pages of book— an extensive, very heated, very graphic novel. “So fucking good, honey.”

His eyelids droop over his dilating pupils, cheekbones blossoming with various shades of red and pink at the use of one of his favorite pet names, the light hairs along his tan arms tingling. “Love how that sounds coming from your mouth.”

You thumb over his small ears, paying special attention to the sensitive shells. A shiver wrings across his broad shoulders and you coo a feathery laugh at his expense. “How long’s it been, again?”

You knew how long— you’d been counting the days from the moment he stepped onto the plane. However, hearing him say it himself made you feel comforted, in a way. It was nice to know that he’d kept track of it, too, because it meant he had missed you just as much as you had missed him.

Harry’s brows cinch yet again as he recalls all those hard days jumping around hotel rooms and sleeping in empty cold beds without your body heat to get him through the difficult nights. His response comes out as a pained sigh. “Two months.”

You nod your head in sympathetic agreement, tucking a rouge damp curl behind his ear. “Two months exactly. So with that taken into consideration, you can see why I’m not against you fucking me sore as soon as possible…”

His eyes fly open at your crude remark, pupils blown way out of portion as the light olive color inks a darker emerald hue. “Jesus Christ, you’ve got the filthiest mind, y’know that?”

Harry pries an arm from around your waist, the textured pad of his index finger tracing delicately along the curve of your bottom lip. He expresses his thoughts aloud, tone one of awed need. “Such a pretty mouth with such a dirty fucking tongue. Daydream about it constantly.”

You part your lips, coaxing the digit inside and just barely biting down on it teasingly. “Yeah? What do you think about?”

A breath catches in Harry’s throat, veins chiseling into existence as the muscles beneath grow taut with aroused angst. He has to force the words out, feeling the sour aftertaste simmer his sinuses. “I think about shoving myself down your throat and watching you take every inch while your eyes water. Think about guiding your head with a fist in your hair while you moan around my cock and beg for me cum in your mouth.”

He pauses for a second, mouth ghosting over yours, the corners twitching with playful smugness as he notices the air struggling to leave your lungs. “But mostly, I think about that dreamy little smile you get when I tell you what a good girl you are for me. Y’know the one, right? That wispy grin you give me despite the fact that your mouth is full.”

You lick over your suddenly chapped skin, having trouble swallowing with a dry throat. You manage to croak out a measly phrase that is hardly enough to communicate the raging in your lower belly.

“Need you.”

Harry’s too cocky for his own good and he’s well aware of it, but he can’t stop himself from making a mildly arrogant comment— especially not when he knows how much it gets you going.

“Need me to what, darling? Use your words.”

You give a rough yank to the curls along the back of his head as revenge for his condescending attitude, pushing down the way it makes your stomach boil. His neck jerks back, exposing his flexing throat and sharp jaw, a self-assured smirk jolting the edges of his ridiculously beautiful mouth. He releases a teensy hiss at the harsh actions, which slowly molds into a round of tempting chuckles.

You swallow down your pride and speak up.

“Need you to fuck me. Please.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You both rinse off hastily, making sure to get rid of all the soap and shampoo to avoid embarrassing rashes interrupting the hours of exertion that are sure to come.

You’re out in less than ten minutes, Harry standing before the mirror shaking out his tangled curls with a thick cotton towel as another one barely clings to his waist, back muscles contracting and stretching with his movements. His tanned skin seems to glow under the fluorescent lights of the washroom, dark tattoos prominent and alluring, especially along the prominent structure dipping downwards from his hips.  

You dry off as quickly as possible, not being able to resist the urge to touch him in some way. Your lips are on his pulse in an instant, the palm of one of your hands delving under the linen cloth and running along the underside of his shaft. The feeling of him plumping in your cupped digits has your eyes rolling shut.

A conceited whisper plucks at your ears and froths the pit of your tummy. “Forgot what a desperate little thing you are.”

“Just hurry up.”

Harry twists around and tosses the towel he’d been using on his curls onto its designated hook, finger-combing his locks up into a miniature ponytail and tying it off with the pastel pink velvet scrunchie you had left discarded on the bathroom counter. “What’s that one line about patience being a virtue or summat?”

“Well, I don’t wanna wait.“

He turns to face you, reaching up to cup your face gently with his large hand, squeezing your jaw jokingly and kissing the tip of your cold nose. “Well, you’re gonna have to. I have to take a picture to send to Zane Lowe for the interview tomorrow.”

You kink an eyebrow upwards, curiosity momentarily stifling the need to feel him pressed up against your stomach. “Right now? Fresh out of the shower?”

Harry gives a casual shrug, one end of his mouth curling into a nonchalant simper. “The faster it gets done, the better. Plus, I get the feeling I won’t be leaving the bed for a while so it’s best I do it now.”

Your fingers tighten around the base of his prick, the coarse, neatly trimmed hair of his pelvis itching your skin. “Fine.”

He reaches for his phone, opening up the camera and pointing it at the mirror, making sure to keep the reflection of his bare ass out of frame, as well as the hand tugging him off beneath the sink.

You thumb over the head of his cock, collecting the precum pearling out of the tip and using it as lubrication to speed up your pace.

Harry’s entire body jerks in response, jaw clenching and collarbones straining his skin. His arms are shaky and he’s cursing under his breath as he tries to snap an appropriate photo.

“Just take the picture, H.”

“S’what I’m trying to do but it’s a little hard when something else is demanding my attention in such an insistent way.”

“Take it or I’m going to drop on my knees right now and you’ll have to apologize to Zane and the team tomorrow.”

He captures a quick, somewhat half-assed image with his face hidden behind the phone— the teeth marks littering his lips would cause a catastrophic earthquake within the media.

His phone ends up in the towel hamper, his leftover towel ends up on the floor, and you end up getting exactly what you wanted.

[whumpeeblog]

TW CHILD SLAVERY MENTION OF TORTURE MENTION OF DEATH PAIN WHUMP

“Don’t you touch her.”

S scrambled through the castle halls, K sprinting behind her.

“Come here you little wretch!” He grumbled as he gained on her. Nearly tripping, S rounded the corner into the throne room, where D stood, talking to a neighboring ambassador. In frantic panic, the girl ran to her master.

D’s blue eyes widened as he watched his prisoner throwing herself towards him. Shock struck him when K came trailing behind her.

S ducked behind D, squatting in a fetal position behind his tall legs, afraid to look towards the disaster she knew was on its way.

K slowed to a walk, his sword drawn.

“Come here, girl. I swear when I get my hands on you, your little body will burn with pain.”

D spoke up in order to protect his captive.

“Don’t you touch her.”

D’s deep command stopped K. However, hatred darkened in his eyes as he glared at the figure hiding behind his cousin and friend. He took a step closer, the thump of his boot causing the marred child to flinch in fear.

“K. Don’t. You. Dare. Touch. Her.” D repeated. “Now tell me what’s going on and maybe we can sort this out.” The ambassador beside him watched the scene unfold, the amusement on his face revealing his attempt not to laugh.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and D was accustomed to bringing K’s temper down while protecting S.

“She stole several items from me and it’s time the little thief learn to pay. In Galway, thieves lose their hands at best and their lives at worst,” K snarled.

“Put the sword away and I’ll deal with this.”

K placed the blade back in its sheath, yet the child still cowered in fear. She may have escaped K’s wrath, but now she needed to face the decision of her master.

“S,” Damian stated confidently. S scurried around to face Master D, as she called him, dropping to her knees and lowering her head. She knew she would be punished, but a small bit of relief crashed through her, acknowledging that D was usually much more merciful than K and wouldn’t torture her like K would. If K had caught her, he would have skinned her alive, literally. He’d done it to many others, and knew how to keep them alive as long as possible. He was the executioner, after all. He, as well as D, N, and almost every other prominent being in the small kingdom, knew how to push a victim to the brink of death, putting them in the most agonizing pain possible, yet keeping their heart beating.

“Look at me,” D commanded. S’s gaze reluctantly met his eyes, and she trembled. She searched his face for mercy; for any chance that he might not let K torture her.

She knew the rules. If a slave, prisoner, or other commoner was caught stealing from a lord, prince, or other high placed official, the king had the right to do whatever he pleased. This usually included severe torture and beheading. If a commoner was stolen from, they could take that person prisoner or slave, and do what they wished. If they were feeling generous, they could send the criminal to a local sheriff, and they would be given a “kind” death: hanging.

A chilly waterfall of horror flushed through S’s body as she searched her master’s eyes.

“Are these accusations true?” D asked sternly, concern and dominance hinted in his eyes. The girl’s face lowered as she nodded softly. She lifted her gaze, but was unable to read Damian’s face. “And may I ask as to what you stole and why you did?”

“I- it was just some food and a few weathered blankets, Master.”

“And why did you take these things when I provide you with what you need? Are you planning an escape attempt perhaps?” D interrogated the girl. Just as it wasn’t the first time she had stolen, he wouldn’t be surprised if she were plotting to run... again. She had been tormented mercilessly for many of her attempts, although there were several times he had allowed her to get away with it. S trembled and her eyes pleaded desperately for Damian to believe her.

“No, Master! I swear it wasn’t an escape attempt, Sir! Please! I was just hungry and cold...”

D questioned the child further, but he was already aware exactly why she had done it.

“If you were hungry or cold, you could have come to me or N and we would have provided you with warmth and a meal. You know this, so why didn’t you ask?” D raised an eyebrow and lifted his hand to his chin, almost as if he were deeply pondering the situation.

“I- I was afraid to ask, Master. I feared that if I became too much of a burden to you, you would take my head.” Her eyes lowered to stare at the cold, golden floor she kneeled upon. She trembled even more, one of the first signs of the panic attack she could feel rising into her heart. A tear slipped, and landed on the ground like the first raindrop of a terrifying storm.

“So you thought that by stealing from my executioner, you could get away with it. You didn’t think he would notice. After all, the less you eat, the smaller of a burden you are to me, correct?” D questioned. S nodded, still afraid to meet his eyes. “And even if you were caught, you hoped I would put you out of your misery quickly, rather than make you suffer as K here would.” D pitied the slave. She was just a teenager, and a traumatized one at that. He recognized the need to correct her habit, however.

“Let me have her, D,” K cut in. S glared at him, a cocktail of hatred and horror drowning her tears. D put up a hand to stop K as he lunged forward, fangs bared.

“Now,” D shifted his eyes to the girl between him and K, “It seems we have a problem, don’t we?”

“Yes, Master D.”

“Leave us,” D glanced at K and his ambassador. K growled resentfully, but walked toward the door. The ambassador followed, understanding that the meeting would be over for the next few hours.

It was now between the prisoner and her captor. She knew what she deserved, and she grimaced as visions of her possible punishments overcame her.

“Please have mercy, Master,” she pleaded tearfully, whimpering with tiny gasps. Thirty seconds of silence went by as D stared at S, deep in thought.

“Why were you so afraid to ask?”

S spoke up nasally, still trying to hide her sobs.

“If- if I eat too much you’ll kill me.”

D knew better. She was the spitting image of his deceased sister, and his last plan was to execute the child. Of course, if it came to the point where his only option were the sword, he’d do it, but not for a little nourishment. He still tortured her as needed. She wasn’t his sister after all. He often needed to be reminded that she was a slave, a prisoner of war and ally of the enemy.

D didn’t respond to S’s statement, proving in her mind that her fears would soon come to life. He decided that instead of severely punishing her as he had done many times before, he’d use a harmless fear tactic.

“On your feet.” His sunken tone struck fear and earned a flinch from S. She did as was told, and rose, staring up into his icy glare. “Against the wall.” Once again, S responded submissively, walking to face the wall. D sauntered to his throne, prolonging the process in order to teach a lesson of obedience. He reached for a strand of rope which hung on the wall behind the throne, part of a daunting collection of restraints and weapons.

S’s body jolted as she was forcefully shoved into the gold plated wall. Her arms were yanked behind her back. Her wrists over crossed each other, palms out. The rope brushed against soft skin, leaving a burning trail of red rash as it slithered its way around her wrists.

Fingers sliding over S’s shoulder, D turned her body and guided her forward.

Oh God he’s gonna kill me... no. worse. He’s gonna torture me.

Hyperventilation shook S’s frail body, but instead dragging her to one of the torture chambers, D pushed her towards the opposite side of the throne room. The door on that side led to a stone spiral staircase. These stairs went up to a winding maze of hallways with different suites belonging to each individual royal in the small kingdom. Each suite was like an apartment, and contained its own prison cells for the men’s prisoners. Few ever left the private dungeons. To the surprise of the child, however, D didn’t chain her to a wall in his dungeon. He didn’t beat her to a pulp with the agonizing cracks of a nine stranded whip. A harsh necklace of rope wasn't strung around her neck, nor her tendons cut to allow her to choke to death.

Instead he led her in the opposite direction and down the stairs to the section of the castle that was used as a public hangout. The lower floor was set up with a kitchen, living space, dining hall, music and entertainment room, and had a porch leading outside.

D unsheathed a knife. S only knew this thanks to the familiar metallic scrape of the object leaving its home. A shudder wracked through her, and she expected the worst. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she braced herself, but the pain never came. Instead, D’s knife sliced its way through the rope, and the broken bonds fluttered to the floor.

D walked towards the couch, and picked up a heavy wool blanket. He draped it around his terrified slave. Her body shuddered when the scratchy warm fabric danced on her skin, the only touch she was used to being some form of excruciating torture.

“Sit,” D pointed towards the couch. S timidly waddled over. She was still skeptical that he would hurt her, but D was often merciful to her too. There was no real way of knowing whether he would hurt her or not. When he did, she knew he tried to be lenient, and he only punished her when he felt he had to. Now was one of the times that he may have to, she thought.

Frightened eyes examined every detail of her master making his way about the kitchen at the other side of the room. D heated something in a pot on the stove, occasionally glancing over to assure that his prisoner hadn’t made another escape attempt. The figure huddled in the corner of the couch, afraid to move or make a sound. Even under the shadows of the blanket wrapped over her head and body, dark circles of sleep deprivation made themselves visible.

D walked over to the girl, carrying with him a tray of soup, bread, and water. He set it on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Eat,” he instructed. S didn’t budge. D stared with concern. He cared about her, even if she was his slave. He genuinely didn’t want to hurt her, but she had been his enemy, and a prisoner. Either she was afraid that he poisoned the food, or she was trying to kill herself with starvation.

S cowered away when a steamy spoon of tomato broth met her lips.

“Open.” She did as told, but tears began to fall as she took the liquid in. Whimpers and shivering came with each spoonful.

After several spoonfuls, D seemed to have convinced the child that he hadn’t poisoned her meal. He slowly slid his way up the couch to sit behind her. Drowsiness conquered S’s frail body and she began sleep softly, laying her head across her master’s lap. D combed her brown hair with his fingers, not daring to move. The sedative had finally set in, and he didn’t need to change that.

[quoj]

frailty, thy name is Roman

all right SO this is my FIRST time doing something of this sort so BE WARNED it will not be pretty I can assure you that much 

hurt/comfort

pairing: prinxiety (romantic)

warnings: a tiny bit of angst, descriptions of injuries, crying, hugging, descriptions of fight scenes

word count: 1909

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist)

★  ★  ★

Sweat pooled at Roman’s hairline as he slashed furiously at the Dragon Witch’s roaring frame, swiftly ducking to avoid being hit. His sword, ruby-encrusted at the hilt, glimmered tantalizingly between the monster’s dripping jaws, its eyes glinting with malice. The prince jumped to catch hold of it, but only succeeded in getting himself caught in the Dragon Witch’s sharp scales, which cut deep gashes in his arms. Crying out in pain, Roman released his grip on the animal’s rough skin and fell to the ground, clutching his forearm.

He’d been defeated. Again. How many times had it been? He’d lost count, he thought to himself bleakly. As if counting made it any easier to bear.

The Dragon Witch, sensing his belligerence, slithered smoothly to his side, purring at him soothingly. It cocked its head, peering at him with curiosity. Roman struggled to stand, forcing a smile for his friend. He’d called it here to spar with him earlier. 

Lightly stroking its scales, he turned away. He couldn’t bring himself to accept the fact that he couldn’t win a fight with the Dragon Witch—the very creature he’d brought to life just to slay for a talking point.

It’d been so easy then. What had changed?

Grumbling, he dusted himself and readied himself for yet another match. 

“Hey, Dragon Witch—one more for fun?” he rasped out at the now retreating animal, whose ears perked up at the thought of some more playtime with its best friend. It hesitated, however, when it saw the state of him. Roman, undeterred, nodded reassuringly at the Dragon Witch, inviting it to crawl closer.

He was terrified he couldn’t live up to the glory set for him by the others. He desperately needed to prove he could, and he would do whatever it took to achieve that.

The Dragon Witch laid Roman’s sword at his feet. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was grimy and covered in blood. Roman closed his eyes for a moment, grasping the hilt.

He brandished it in the air with a fierce battle cry. The Dragon Witch reared.

Slash. The Dragon Witch was whipping at him with his tail. He could easily parry this.

A stab. The creature dodged the weapon easily, eyes glittering as if laughing at him. He couldn’t do this.

Another parry, a sidestep, a feint to the head and a stab to the underbelly, where it was undefended . . .

A furious roar from the Dragon Witch and he was on his back again on the cool earth. He groaned, drowsily examining his limbs and torso for any damage. He suddenly felt something trickling down his face, just as he began to get dizzy.

He patted the Dragon Witch’s ears, watching it purr and stretch underneath his hand. He was dimly aware of the growing pain on the side of his head. The fact that even after so many tries, he couldn’t defeat the Dragon Witch was tormenting him. Lost in thought, the last thing he saw before he passed out was the animal’s concerned eyes peering down at him tentatively. Then the world went black. 

The next few minutes (or hours, or seconds) were a blur of hushed voices and wings flapping hurriedly, but Roman was too tired to open his eyes to check his surroundings. What was the point, anyway? He’d never be the prince Thomas needed him to be. All he wanted was to keep his eyes closed and drift off to sleep, where there’d be no pressure at all.

The next thing he was aware of was soft fingers brushing his left temple, and the sharp voice of the teacher he knew so well. But the delicateness of the hand on his head didn’t seem to match with Logan’s lecturing tone.

Roman groaned as he came to, blinking groggily as he saw two faces looking down at him, one deeply concerned and the other tutting disapprovingly. The contrast was so sharp it was almost comical, making Roman want to laugh. And laugh he did, delirious from the pain. This only served to make Virgil crease his brows in even more intense concern and Logan begin to speak, purely to inform Roman that his actions had been reckless and foolhardy.

Roman knew the teacher had no malicious intent, but still the words cut through him like glass. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the criticizing words. He knew he hadn’t been careful. He didn’t need to hear it all over again, especially from Lo—he cut himself off. He simply knew he didn’t want the creativity he had stifled again and again. 

Virgil seemed to understand, surveying Roman’s face and getting up to usher Logan out of the room. He offhandedly recited some reassuring words to the teacher, letting him know Roman would be in good hands. The teacher’s face relaxed slightly as he saw Roman let out an audible breath of air. From his place on the bed, he could just barely see Logan smirking as he closed the door behind him.

Virgil said nothing, but avoided Roman’s eyes as he gingerly bandaged the prince’s wounds. Roman, still dazed with pain, watched mesmerized as the other Side’s fingers danced over his skin.

“So, Roman . . . how’d you get this scratched up?” Virgil chuckled lightly as he washed the other one’s injuries, taking extra care not to hurt him further. He was blinking quite a bit, worry etched on his face.

Roman felt his face heat up.

“I was . . . sparring with the Dragon Witch. Getting in some extra practice, you know.” The prince mumbled, trying to laugh it off. Virgil, however, kept pressing.

“Right, the Dragon Witch. I nearly had a heart attack when it came flying in here with you lying on its back.” Virgil exhaled, still noticeably avoiding Roman’s eyes.

“You looked so . . . dead.” The Side’s voice broke slightly on the last word, turning away from Roman, shoulders shaking lightly. The prince’s eyes widened.

“Virgil, listen—”

“No, Princey, you listen. We were all worried sick when the Dragon Witch brought you in here. I . . . I was worried too.” The side fidgeted with the ends of his jacket. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.” He was visibly choking up.

Roman tried to reach out to pat the other’s shoulder, but hesitated.

Abandoning all pretenses, Virgil suddenly grabbed Roman’s shoulders, forcing the prince to face him, his eyes decidedly wet.

“You need to be more careful,” he whispered.

Virgil let go of Roman’s shoulders, now beginning to pace the room, breathing quickening. The prince attempted to stand up, not sure what was happening.

“You can’t keep being this rash. Going and getting yourself killed isn’t going to help anyone!” Virgil’s volume was steadily increasing, causing the already-confused Roman to shrink back. 

Of course. It was more chastising, more scolding, more putting him down. He’d expect this from Logan, but from Virgil? It looked like his support was narrowing. And, like in all other cases of this, Roman let himself grow numb to the harsh words, painting on a nonchalant face.

“Thomas needs you, so you have to be more cautious!”

Virgil was close to shouting now. 

The prince flinched involuntarily, looking down. Then his gaze hardened again.

“It doesn’t look like he does, me being how I am.” Roman stated flatly, trying not to let any emotion creep into his voice.

Virgil stepped back, his eyes wide. Then he moved forward slowly again, his tone softening considerably. 

“Princey, you know that’s not true.” Virgil sighed. The prince was glaring vehemently at the other Side now.

“Is it, though?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Not based on how you and the others have been acting, I don’t.” This part was mumbled, the creative side deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Virgil stopped in his tracks. Then paused, and sidled up to Roman awkwardly.

“No, Princey.” The side was twisting his fingers together nervously. “We . . . I’m sorry.”

“It really hasn’t been looking like you are,” Roman choked out, fighting to keep his voice even.

Virgil kept playing with his fingers, looking nervous. Several times he opened his mouth to speak, only to apparently think better of it and close it. The next few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence, until Virgil decided to make the first move, moving towards the injured prince.

“I’m sorry, Princey,” he said forcefully.

Roman let out a breath. He struggled to sit up straighter for a few seconds, until Virgil put his arms around his and steadied him, both their faces faintly tinged with pink.

“Princey, I said I was sorry.”

The prince put his head in his hands. “It’s fine, Virgil. I’m fine.” The prince desperately battled against the lump in his throat, only to lose to it in a humiliating show of emotion.

Roman wasn’t particularly surprised. He always lost, didn’t he?

Virgil gazed at Roman’s sentimental display, his breath catching in his throat. In a moment of abandon, the side gently settled himself on the bed next to the prince.

“No, Princey. You’re not fine.” Virgil quietly placed his arms around the other side, clasping them together and leaning his head on the Roman’s shoulder.

Roman was shocked by the other’s spontaneous move of affection. The extra strain pushed him over the edge, breaking the dam that had held his poise in place for so long.

The prince resignedly looked away. Virgil didn’t need to see him like this, a blubbering mess of emotion and insecurity. He fought to control his breathing, now with tears openly streaming down his face.

But Virgil was undaunted by Roman’s cracked façade. He merely squeezed the prince tighter, whispering words of encouragement here and there. After a few agonizing minutes, Virgil lifted his head to speak.

“Princey. Roman.”

Roman glanced up, surprised, but Virgil pushed on.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl. It was unrealistic. He’d been apologized to so many times before, all of them meaning the same thing.

But something made this time different.

Virgil stroked the other side’s hair as he spoke, sometimes stumbling over words, but making it there through squeezes of encouragement from Roman.

“You were right, Roman. We haven’t been treating you well. But Thomas still needs you, I promise.”

Virgil stopped for a moment, then tilted up Roman’s chin with his hand. Roman felt his face flush, meeting Virgil’s eyes to see that his face was doing something similar.

His eyes. When had they become so captivating? Roman was spellbound, lost in the deep, brilliant purple.

Virgil faltered for a second, gazing at Roman’s face. Then he spoke.

“Roman. You’re not anything less than the perfect prince.”

He blushed. Roman’s heart was in his throat. He opened his mouth to disagree, only to be lightly shushed by Virgil.

“You should know that. I mean . . . it’s true. You . . . you are perfect, just as you are right now. I mean, that’s not to say you weren’t perfect before, you always are. You know that right?” Virgil was rambling now, his face completely red. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

But Roman was grinning. He reached around Virgil’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Yeah, I’m perfect. And you’re adorable, emo.” 

★  ★  ★

taglist: @letsjustdieeveryone​, @nayrs-thoughts-13​, @deanbean-soup​, @someoneiwasnt​, @the17thmeatball​

[roguewriting]

No. 40 for Sukuna x reader UwU thank you :')

I actually had a hard time writing this. I hope this is good, anon!

A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

Exorcising curses and causing mischief was just a typical pastime for you and Sukuna. Since you two started dating, you couldn’t remember a single day where you weren’t out doing something illegal or just being nuisances to the public and curses alike, and you were really starting to enjoy yourself.

Which brought you to today. You two had teamed up with Gojo and his students to exorcise a curse that was causing too many problems for the sorcerers. Too many that they had decided the king of curses needed to be used, which just seemed to send Sukuna on even more of a power trip than usual.

“If you’re so strong, why did your precious school have to ask me to handle this?” Sukuna taunted, sneering at Gojo who seemed unfazed.

“Ah, I wonder that myself.” Gojo looked over at you, pulling up his blindfold for a quick wink that sent Sukuna on a downward spiral for the day. You found it funny to an extent that Gojo was able to rile your boyfriend up, but you never played along for fear of being Sukuna’s next target. Just because you two were dating doesn’t mean he would let you get off scot-free. 

As you predicted, Sukuna was quick to look your way to see your reaction. Paying no mind to either, you skipped up to Yuuji and dangled off him. “I haven’t seen you in a while Yuuji! How are you?”

Yuuji’s face heated up at your contact and he looked away, stuttering a quick response. You would have thought it was cute too if a hand hadn’t grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and dragged you back. “What do you think you’re doing, little one?”

“Obviously talking to Yuuji,” you replied, waving your hand in the air. That must have been the wrong move because you were quickly pulled away from the group, who took it upon themselves to scurry away. “What’s the big deal, Ryo? He’s like a little brother to me.”

Sukuna laughed as he balled his fists, trying to calm himself down before he did anything rash. “Look, I’m only going to say this once. I no longer reside in that brat, so don’t go touching him anymore. Got it?” 

“Sukuna, he’s 17.” 

“Age doesn’t mean anything,” he growled, leaning closer to you, “You’ll heed my warning. Next time you touch that brat again, I’m not responsible for what happens.”

You’re quick to wave off his little threat, turning on your heel to catch up with the others to calm yourself down. Aware of what sort of punishment would be in store if you were to disobey, you kept some distance between yourself and the others, except Nobara of course.

“Awfully touchy today, huh?” Nobara whispered, falling into step with you. All you did was shrug. Keeping your mouth shut would benefit you in the long run.

Due to the tension in the group, no one was prepared for the attack that struck shortly after. You were closer to the others than Sukuna, which would come to be his biggest regret of the day.

A curse materialized in the middle of the group, catching all of you off guard. Nobara was quick to draw her nails, Megumi summoning his divine dogs, and Yuuji quickly jumped into action and raced towards you to pull you away. Yuuji wrapped his arms around you as the curse struck, knocking you both to the ground. You hit first, Yuuji landing on top of you. It was apparent that he was knocked out from the blow, but as you tried getting up, pain shot through your left shoulder. You looked at your shoulder to see a sword sticking out of your skin, but you didn’t have the energy to pull it out. Gasping for air, you weakly attempted to push Yuuji off with your right arm, to no avail.

In the next second, the weight was being lifted from your chest and you were able to breathe again. You heard a quiet apology being whispered in your ear before more pain shot through your shoulder, causing you to scream out in pain. An arm gently wrapped around you and pulled you to in and a gentle kiss was pressed to your lips. With no energy to fight against it, you laid there letting whoever it was kiss you.

Catching your breath and the ringing in your ears dying, you opened an eye to see what was going on. Sukuna was hovering above you, panic etched on his face. When he saw an eye open, he was quick to kiss you again, pressing you closer to his chest as he coaxed your mouth open with his tongue. You obliged, letting your eyes slide closed again. Everything quickly faded away and you cracked an eye open to see Sukuna had opened his domain.

“I did what I could with your shoulder for right now,” Sukuna informed, breaking the kiss to assess anymore damage. “I need you to tell me what hurts.”

“Chest….” you managed, trying to suck in another breath. “I think…. Broken ribs….”

Acting quickly, Sukuna focused his energy into healing your ribs. You tried to talk, to say thank you or apologize, but he kept shushing you. A few silent minutes passed before Sukuna gently pulled you into a sitting position.

“You’re fine now, little one,” he whispered, pulling you into a hug. It was honestly quite rare that he hugged you, which means you were in worse shape than you thought. You hugged him back, thankful that the pain had vanished, and you were still alive. It took awhile before Sukuna was comfortable enough to let go of you, even though you both were protected in his domain.

“Ryo I’m…” you choked out, your emotions finally coming to a head as tears began to fall from your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, wiping the tears that had fallen. “I don’t know why you’d have to be sorry. I was the one who fucked up.” He pulled you in again, guiding your head to his shoulder so you could continue to cry.

“I wasn’t the one who protected you this time,” Sukuna whispered, barely audible enough for you to make out. You gripped onto him tighter, a choked sob slipping out of your throat. He sat there for a little longer, letting you get everything out before heading back into battle.

When you were ready, he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead as you composed yourself. “Ready to go back out and fight?”

“What if the fights already over?”

Sukuna laughed as his domain faded away. “Come on now, little one, these four can’t hold their own against a curse this strong.”

[ask-ethari-anything]

Ooooh!! I need to know more about that first time where Runaan fell asleep before you started courting, because he was hurt and all.

Please? 🥺

It’s my pleasure, love.

Young assassins are often given guard duty for little trips outside the Silvergrove, to give them practice with awareness and responding to relatively safe situations--compared to taking humans, anyway. Runaan really seemed to enjoy those trips before he was cleared for assassin missions--he really embraced the idea of protecting people by standing between them and danger, and by sorting out tense situations to keep others safe. He has a knack for that, as much as he does for um, harder things.

He was often assigned to guard me while I went on a gem-finding trip. I loved those trips! Pulling rough gemstones from the earth, from caves, from riverbeds, seeing them sparkle in their first light of day, it warms my soul. If Runaan loved his guard duty, then these were the trips I loved. I always asked for them, whenever the village needed more rough stones, and I was good at finding them and bringing them back as intact as possible. Glow crystals are easy to find since they give off light, but it’s almost as if I can hear the gemstones pinging in the earth, and I love that first moment of discovery like nothing else.

But I do get overly focused on my work, and that’s why I need someone watching my back. *sassy grin* So Runaan and I made a great team even when we were younger, and he trekked out with me many times before we had romantic inclinations for each other. 

One time, I insisted on traveling out during a rainstorm because the cache of opals I was after lay beneath an overhang that had been undercut by craftsmen so much over the centuries that I worried for its stability. I wanted to get out to it and retrieve my opals before the overhang got too soaked and became dangerous--and the storm was going to be a big one. Runaan advised that we wait a few days, but I was impatient and insisted. So he dutifully traveled out into the drenched forest with me. I could read his judgy silence, though. He didn’t say a word for hours, and I knew he was grumpy with me for being rash.

We reached the overhang, a muddy slit just big enough to crawl back into, beneath a large chunk of dark gray rock. The vein of opals extended quite a ways, and there was plenty of space beneath it--as long as you were sitting down. Runaan handed me a padded hat. I glared at him, and he glared right back. So I put the stupid thing on to protect my horns and crawled under the overhang through the mud until I reached the back of the rock wall. I began unearthing them as quickly as I could and stashing them carefully in my bag. 

After only a few minutes, a massive bolt of lightning struck a tree nearby, and the thunderclap that followed literally shook the earth. And then it kept shaking.

Runaan called my name and scrambled in under the overhanging rock. He began dragging me out, but before we reached safety, the overhang started to tip and collapse. He seized me in a fierce hug, rolled me over top of him, and then thrust me past him out into the rainstorm!

And the overhang collapsed on top of him.

A few very important things became instantly clear to me as I sprawled in the wet grass, then. I’d been a fool. Runaan had been right to worry. And he might just have died trying to save me from my own stupidity. I had to make it right.

I was on my knees at the edge of the overhang in an instant, chucking big rocks aside and crying his name. Surely he’d be just under this rock, or this one, or this one... 

Well, he’d nearly made it to the edge before he was buried, so I did find him soon, although it felt like a million years. I found his hand first, and I squeezed it tight, trying to get a response from him. I nearly cried with relief when he faintly squeezed me back! I unearthed him even faster than I’d been working--and when I found his head, I had to laugh.

He’d stolen my padded hat when he booted me out into the rain, and it protected his horns under all the rocks--and I had been so worried, I never noticed that he’d taken it!

“Thief,” I blurted, grinning. “You took my hat.”

Runaan looked up at me from the rocks, bearing scratches and bruises on every part of him that I could see, and utterly slathered in fresh mud. But his wide turquoise eyes still managed to look shocked. “Sorry...” he began.

“Moon and shadow, I’m joking! I’m just glad to see you alive. Let me get you out of there, hold on.” And I unearthed him the rest of the way, and helped him up. But he’d been squished pretty thoroughly, and he couldn’t walk well. One of his feet had gotten a bit twisted among the falling rock.

We stared at each other in dismay for a moment, as the rain started to wash the mud off of him. 

“I guess we’re camping out here tonight,” I said, at the exact moment that he said, “You should head back without me.”

Then we chorused, “Don’t be stupid.”

Runaan glared at me, and I snorted and started laughing. His glares had a lot less weight when he was two whole inches shorter than me and also covered in mud!

“Come on, I know a place we can dry off. And when we get there, I’ll need that medkit of yours, the one you always bring in case I’m, er, stupid.”

I wasn’t completely sure, but it seemed for a second that he blushed under all his mud.

It was cute, I’ll admit, even way back then. Silly overachieving assassin trainee, striving so hard to be perfect. He tried to limp along ahead of me to scout the way, but his foot was in bad shape, so I insisted on carrying him on my back. “That way, you can still see ahead and let me know if there’s trouble,” I told him.

“I’ll get you muddy,” he protested.

“Yes. And?” I pointed out that I was muddy from the knees down after having crawled in after my opals.

Well, he still thought it was unseemly for an assassin to show so much weakness that he had to be carried. Poor elf was in quite a quandary! So I said, “Listen, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. But we can’t stay out here in the rain, and you need to rest. You just had a whole boulder collapse all over you!”

Runaan struggled mightily for enough justification to let me carry him. It was written all over his cute little face! But eventually he gave in and nodded. I backed up and bent down, and he leaned against me and wrapped his muddy arms around my neck, and I scooped him up under his knees, and away we went.

He didn’t say a word the whole time, and his hands were flexing like mad. I didn’t understand what that meant back then, not really, but it was clear that he was pretty tense. 

I hiked to the nearest dry cave and set Runaan down in a safe corner. He was mostly mud-free at that point, except for where we’d been pressed together. He didn’t want me to check him over for injuries yet, so I told him I’d scout around for some supplies. He immediately gave me a list! Luckily for both of us, I’m very good with lists. I made him swear that he’d be alright when I returned, and he did so, readily. So I headed back into the rain to gather berries and leaves and stones and roots and moss, and a few flower petals, if I could find them. He’d added them to the list with another blush, so I was determined!

Well, I found everything he asked for and brought the damp lot back in my opal bag. He seemed surprised at my competence, but I told him, “Craftsmen know their way around the same forest assassins do.” That seemed to make him think for a moment.

Then I asked him what all the supplies were for, and he started spouting assassin knowledge at me. I could barely keep up! Moss and stones to give off a radiant heat with only a little light, berries and leaves for pain and wound cleansing... but he didn’t want to tell me what the flower petals were for.

“Runaan. Just tell me. Is it for a tea? Do you eat them? Here, you take them and do what you want with them,” I offered, holding them out.

But he blushed again and looked away. So stubborn! I pretended like I was going to crumple them up and toss them away, and he reached out and grasped my wrist tightly.

“Wait. They’re... healing petals. For the scratches on my face. I... it’s easier if someone else...”

I grinned so widely, I thought my face would split! “Runaan. Are you telling me you’re worried about your pretty face?”

He blushed again and glared at me.

“Because you’re still pretty, but now you look like the badass who saved my life,” I added seriously. “Did you think I wouldn’t tell everyone how brave you were? How you selflessly saved me first and risked yourself? How you did exactly what you’ve been trained to do? So what if you took a few scrapes? That just proves how dangerous your work is, and how strong you are to survive it. Doesn’t it?”

He stared at me dubiously for a long, long moment, and then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he looked aside. He let out a slow sigh, and then he glanced at me and offered his cheek toward me for a petal bandage.

I scooted forward and used my softest craftsman touch to press the first one over a scrape along his cheekbone. “There we go. I’ll have you looking pretty as a lunabloom in no time,” I murmured.

He glared up at me for implying that he wasn’t already that pretty, and I winked at him. “A lunabloom who didn’t just save my life in spectacular fashion,” I amended. Another petal pressed against his forehead, and another beside it, covering a large abraded area. He winced slightly, and I paused. “Did I hurt you?” I asked. But he shook his head and looked down.

I turned his chin lightly, looking for more scrapes to cover, and found a pair along his jaw. I softly pressed more petals over them and then looked his face over thoroughly. “Alright. I think your legendary beauty will recover now,” I pronounced.

Runaan rolled his eyes and looked away again, but I saw a little smile on his lips.

We snacked on a few moonberries, and I tended his foot under his sharp-eyed instruction, patching and binding it for him. He propped it on a stone and lay by the warming moss, and I lay nearby with my head next to his, in case he ever decided to talk again. 

He went still, and then he huffed suddenly as if waking. A few minutes later, he did it again. I realized he was trying not to doze off.

“Runaan, you just got buried in rocks, and you need to rest. Don’t worry. I’ll stay awake and keep watch for you.”

“Do you even know what to watch for?” he asked sleepily.

Sassy assassin. “I imagine anything that darkens the cave entrance will be worth waking you for,” I sassed back.

He rolled his eyes again, but then he nodded, as if in agreement with my very general assessment of his watch duties. I sat up then, facing the entrance of the cave with Runaan stretched out beside me. 

He tapped my knee with something, and I looked down to see him offering me his sword. I blinked in shock, and then I took it, slowly and reverently, and held it across my lap. As if I knew what to do with the thing aside from admire its craftsmanship.

But he nodded seriously, having successfully passed watch duty to me, and soon enough, his eyes slid shut and he relaxed into sleep.

I’d never seen an assassin sleep before. That’s like seeing a shark sleep. They just don’t sleep around other elves. They don’t sleep much at all, I’ve since come to realize. But there he was, a young, earnest injured assassin, soft and slumberous at my side. And he’d given me his sword.

The amount of trust in those two gestures astounded me, even though we both knew he had no other choice due to our circumstances. He was taking a chance on me. And as I sat there in the dimness, with an assassin’s sword in my hands, I began to feel... something amazing.

I wanted to keep him safe. From everything. He was so tense, so worried, about me as his charge, that he’d neglected to worry over himself. But Runaan was definitely worth worrying over! He’d trained so hard and so earnestly, and he truly enjoyed helping keep others safe. I wanted to make that as easy as possible for him. Because he was overdoing it by a fair bit and he needed to relax!

While he slept, I contemplated that sword. I wondered who had made it for him, and if a better one would serve him more efficiently. I wondered about enchantments and secrets and maybe even moon opals. And so I hauled out my damp notebook and started writing down ideas.

“What are you doing?” Runaan’s voice startled me some hours later.

“Making notes. On swords.”

“Swords?”

“You need a better sword.”

“My sword is perfectly functional, Ethari.” He held out his hand, and I returned it to him.

“But what if it could be better?” I asked eagerly. “Listen. You’re an assassin. You performed your duty today and saved my life. Let me return the favor by making you a better sword, so you can be even more efficient.”

“But you’re a jeweler.”

“I’m a craftsman,” I said, a little too forcefully. “I can make anything I like. And I want to make you a better sword. It’ll take time, because I’ll need to change my training focus, but... if you’ll be patient with me, Runaan, I want to pay you back for saving my life. And this is how I want to do it. I want to make you a better sword.”

He lay in the dimness and stared up at me with those blazing turquoise eyes I’ve come to adore, and he simply said, “Thank you.”

[crybabytoy59]

My Begging letter PT8.

After they fell asleep I slept on and off suffering in the bondage position they had left me in, During the night sometime around 4am I was woken by light shocks that were growing in strength not enough to make me cry out just hard enough to have me whimpering, unbeknownst to me they were both up naked, Mistress Mummy was hanging up the remainder of the urine from the water fountain that she had put into a bag then sat it in the sink with boiling water to heat it up, this would add an element of Deeply bitter taste every time The new Slave swallowed it down unfortunately for Babyslave Mistress Mummy had woken feeling Not only Very Dominant But extremely Dirty....As she pushed the Tee peace to the neck of the bag with the sprung loaded valves this allowed for a second liquid to be lifted by the first fluid passing the valve, All she needed to do was prime the valve with a syringe 💉as she hung up the bag she pushed the second tube from the rebreather box on the floor pulling on the large syringe she watched Smiling as the wee ball in the clear valve port spun around rapidly pulling the discoloured liquid from the box up to meet the valve, Then pushing the syringe backwards until the tube from the box was 3/4 of the way discoloured & the last 1/4 was stale urine, pulling the syringe away she felt the growing heat between her legs.

At that point Master Daddy had returned with a bag full of ice in a bucket putting it down by Babyslave he softly whispered “Ready Sweetheart?”...

“Fuck yes Darling time to up the pace for Babyslave”

She took away the mask from sissy’s face closing the valve to prevent any smell, then lifting the cock dummy gag this to had holes fro the rubber throat ties to fix it in Babyslave’s mouth. She patted sissy’s chin, then pushed it lightly down..Babyslave Opened Widely ! Sissy was learning, she fed the cock dummy feeder down the rubber laces until the foam ring slipped behind Babyslave’s teeth, as she did Master Daddy pulled the over head belt tightly again making Babyslave bite down on the foam ring sealing the mouth shut !

Next he fitted the rubber bag to the rubber Oring around sissy’s neck making a seal. Mistress Mummy giggled lightly as the wheel on the valve started turning & whimpering came from the hood, Hot urine now passing out all the holes in the cock dummy Babyslave would know it had been heated up as it was over body urine temperature. Inside the hood they could here Swallowing as each time sissy swallowed the dummy would simply refilled from the bag...but worse still Mistress Mummy watched as the discoloured fluid went further up the tube, in a few minutes Babyslave would get her first taste of the new mix...

She nodded to her husband who emptied the ice into the rubber bag surrounding Babyslave’s headie..He closed the rubber seal on top only the tube protruded from the rubber bag a large hole at the top let air in the space between the ice bag & sissy’s face at the front the only place the bag had no contact with the inner hood.

They kissed each other & went back to bed for a couple of hours as they wanted a 7am start as Mistress Dee was arriving at 9am & all had to be prepared for her playtime !

As they worked on me in silence I found this part terrible as when they spoke I got a strange comfort from it even though they were being Wicked & Dominant....But this ? I could only await my fate...that’s when I felt her soft finger tapping my chin then push it lightly down...she wanted my mouth open, the pressure from the strap over my head had released, so I opened Wide to please her, I jumped in the bondage as the 4” cock Dummy was fed into my mouth as it went quite far back but it also had something at its end ? She forced this part past my teeth till it seal my mouth open around the plastic guard on the outside I knew it was attached to something as it kept moving for a short time then I felt it get hot as suddenly stale urine filled my Mouth! But it was way too hot to be fresh, Tears now starting Again as I resigned myself to drinking there “Golden nectar” Wondering why it did not make me feel sick ? Or even nauseous? It was just simply horrible that was all....

Then suddenly something crashed around my head then tightly pulled its self against my hood all but the front were my face was.... slowly my head got cooler I found the swallowing became a task as my tiredness coupled with my cooling head making thoughts hard to focus....my lullaby I’m my ear buds sounding louder & more emotive, smack ! Wwaaaa’wwaaaaWwaaaa .... Smack !! Wwaaaah’Wwaaah !my head felt different but I was too busy Swallowing. Slowly my head started to get cold so much so my lullaby in the ear bud was making me cry...just the sound of it made me want to Cry...

The next hour was spent Very uncomfortable & by the time I felt them removing the head wrapping & hood I was genuinely glad to be able to see them....

Looking closer at the mirrors in front of me They we���re both dressed in rubber suits...This made me nervous....as they both set about putting the equipment away, the frame in-front of me was removed then Master Daddy set about unlacing the bondage pants, as they came loose I was suddenly aware how much the I had wetdiring the night,  but my rear felt strange tingling as the bondage was undone every part of my body aching as I swallowed the Now fowl liquid down mouthful after mouthful pashhed down into my tummy I was feeling very full now, slumping in the last of the ropes Mistress Mummy spanked my sore thigh Thwack! “On your Knees Crybaby Sweetheart We have much to get done so We Want Complete Obedient behaviour this morning Madam !....Now Gulp Nice & fast until I says Stop Cutenesses!”

Still disoriented from the ice freezing & tiredness I started the first of my tears rolling down my cheeks....as I took big gulps of the horrible liquid formula forcing my tummy to fill even fuller ! This seemed to please them no end as Master Daddy undid the armbinder he patted my black leather rear to a dull thudding “Ok Crybaby Sweetheart All fours & follow us (he was putting the pink dog collar on me over the posture collar clipping the leash to that he tugged it up hard) Heal Crybaby !”

I pushed my hood tightly to his leg whimpered then moved forwards with him in time with his steps...”Clever girlie Crybaby that’s the way, Look Mistress Mummy someone’s Very Obedient this morning.....(she giggled) But Am guessing we Will have to see how this morning goes won’t we Crybaby?” I nodded my hood covered head as best I could given the posture collar !

Mistress Mummy pushed the box along side me the feed bag was now half empty swinging obscenely back & forth as we went to the white room, inside they removed the Special leather pants then the Nappy & my maids uniform the Nappy was put into a bucket, then Mistress Mummy remover all the sticky pads. I was so very relieved by this as the shocker therapy was Very unpleasant.

I was made to stand up & hold the over head bar so they could again wash me as I did Mistress Mummy removed the feed gag, as Master Daddy took off my hood, I could now hear properly with the ear plugs out.

Mistress Mummy spoke to me “Clever girlie Crybaby look at You !!! (She giggled as she put the water on I squealed!!) Hush Hush Crybaby Sweetheart we’re only going to wash Babyslave” I squealed due to the sudden sting from my rear as Master Daddy’s “Special Nappy” had worked it’s magic My rear was Red all Over an angry rash that would make any punishment Very painful !!! This was there intention all along as they had Plans for today that would make yesterday seem tame !!!!!....

Mistress Mummy rubbed my rear “Open Wide Crybaby Sweetheart (she forced something wet into my cheeks Deeply) Clever Baby That Keep our girlie Quiet”

She had fed me the pad from yesterday afternoon that had Master Daddy’s seed on it But it was now wet with hot urine !...relaxing now as they both washed me like the day before Very tender the warm urine from my catheter running down my leg she simply plugged it shut for now, smiling at me as the smell of the strawberry soap filled the air, after my shower drying off had me whimsical due to the rash as it was Very sensitive to the touch.

Mistress Mummy opened a bottle of Baby oil then started putting it on my head to toe my whole body glistening in the bright lights.....

“Clever girlie Crybaby that’s You all ready to Play with Mistress Dee so let’s get you into the play room Crybaby !”...

I was Again led by my leash on all fours to the hidden door...as Master Daddy opened it I could see two figures inside dressed in red rubber catsuit’s Mistress Dee...But the other I didn’t recognise she was around five foot 4” heavy built with a Very muscular body she looked around her middle thirty’s But this was not what had me looking at her it was the huge green bag she was next to hung from the ceiling ! With a tube from it that had a double balloon retention enema tube from it with a strange steel base to it ?

They all kissed each other ignoring me.....Mistress Mummy turned to me unfastened my collar & lead....”Now Crybaby Sweetheart You Will Do what You Are Told when You Are Told do I make myself Clear? (I nodded) Clever girlie Crybaby Don’t have us come back in until the girls are Done or there Will be Very serious Implications Crybaby !!!”....They Both simply left the room..

I had not been alone without them both until now & this made me ever more scared as Even although they were Very WKD I had come to feel close to them,but this was different two new Dominant’s I had only met Mistress Dee to have my colonic, as she stepped forward kneeling to cup my chin she spoke..

“Clever girlie Crybaby You just be Obedient & All will be fine.....Now this is Mistress Carla she is my partner You Baby Will Obey Her Ever Word First Time or things will get Very unpleasant for You Pain Toy !....Now crawl to the frame Time to get started Crybaby !!”....Mistress Carla was at the frame opening the neck hoop for me to put my head in, as I straddled the tummy bar Mistress Dee guided my ankles into the waiting rings cold metal shutting around my ankles I knew there was now No escape...prone on the floor in the framework they cuffed my wrists into the rings under my shoulders Mistress Carla without a word pushed the first balloon Deep inside me then inflated it fully, next she inflated the outer balloon sealing my fate...

The metal part was for my cage this she pulled back clipping the two together she then ran a tube to my catheter! Any pee would now go up my rear !!

Opening the valve green fluid flowed into me....she spoke as Mistress Dee got a special hood ready for me....”Crybaby Sweetheart this is a special mix that’s going to help make Baby Very emotional Mummy & Daddy Tell us your quiet the Crybaby But this Sweetheart is a whole different level we are going to really enjoy messing with your headie Crybaby!!” At that she rubbed my sore bottom “Shall we Spank Crybaby Mistress Dee to start her off ?”......Mistress Dee was kneeling at my face “what a great idea Mistress Carla...Open Wide Crybaby Sweetheart (she took out the wet wad giggling) Look Mistress Carla (she held up the cum & piss smoked rag !) Crybaby has been having fun, haven’t You Crybaby? (Wess Mistress Dee) Clever Baby Stay Open Wide!”

She lifted my lower mouth guard pushing it onto my lower teeth firmly, next she lifted my upper guard pushing that in place also Mistress Carla handed her a long waxed looking strip ? This she fed into my cheek pushing firmly pushing so they were wedged behind the guards forcing my mouth to stay Open WIDE ! Mistress Carla handed her a second strip as she did the same with this long wax strip she spoke to me my open further & Fuller “Crybaby Sweetheart this one is from me the first one is from Mistress Carla say thank you Babyslave !”.....as I did Mistress Carla put a bowl underneath my chin.....looking me right in the eyes “Clever girlie Crybaby that’s to catch the liquid at this end Sweetheart!!!!!...

My eyes suddenly bulging at her comments....They could not be serious right ? I mean it could not go all the way through Me...Could it ??......just as that thought hit me so did something else !  The wax strips weren’t wax, they had both spent weeks preparing them for using on me today, they had been toilet wipes over & over until they were so soiled they had become waxed then they had dried them out before starting Over! Tears ran from me now as I realised what Mistress Mummy had told me was true Today was to be Far Far Worse than yesterday’s harsh treatment.....

Mistress Dee rubbed my Tummy “Let’s work this In much Deeper Crybaby Sweetheart......Aaawwww Look Mistress Carla there she is there’s CRYBABY!...spank her Mistress Carla!!” The spanking was not to harshly given by Mistress Carla it did have me whimpering but as the heat grew from this my tummy started making loud noises as small cramps started Mistress Dee lifted a corset putting it around my waist clipping the clasping together she spoke Mistress Carla had stopped spanking me to join her..”Crybaby Sweetheart Your Very Full but given that your pluggie tube won’t be letting anything out of you back there am guessing our Babyslave understands what coming next cutenesses” she started lacing up the corset ! Mistress Carla came to my face “No Crying won’t stop us cutenesses as we want to see our Babyslave in Tears ! So am going to spank you now ..But Crybaby not like before...No am going to spank you Very Hard & Painfully Then cutenesses we are going to take turns flogging that Cute botty....am sure we can find all manner of things to make sure Crybaby can’t sit for Days !!!”

She went behind me & The spankings started heavyweight blows that had me Crying openly in moments....But as Mistress Dee did up the last of the corset a big cramp came..suddenly I felt fluid pass from me as I went to squeal !

They both clapped as the enema fluid ran out of my MOUTH !!!!!!....As the cramping came more fluid flowed over my face into the bowl, tears mixing with the fluid As the room echoed with the sound of My spankings, at first by hand then a flogger a huge heavyweight one ! Next came a belt..they both took time between each stroke until my Struggling stopped before administration of the next painful spank, Last was a robber hoop This really hurt ! So much so Mistress Carla stopped it as Mistress Dee knelt Down at my head..”Come here You noisy girlie Crybaby”

She pushed the new mask over my face as it approached me I could see it had a cock gag the balls were on the outer side ow as hollow ! I wrenched as she pushed it down my throat more fluid poured from me out it’s balls ! As she pulled the rubber taught, pushing the cone ovals up my nose ! The mask had eye holes quite large so they could still see me crying for them...on the outside of the nose cones were two long tear drop shaped plastic ovals with clear tubing from them around 3ft long thir tube she set to a small jar with what looked like a plastic round accordion bellow ?...she then looked up at Mistress Carla “All Ready Darling please continue...Baby is in shush Need of Training”

The next whip from the rubber loop was given with such force I screamed for allI was worth rigging in the bondage framework.But only a dull sound came from me...”Clever girlie Crybaby that’s much better now Pain Toy !”...

Just as it subsided Mistress Mummy walked into the room with a tray, this had two glasses of wine and strawberries & cream....she completely ignored my plight putting the tray Dow she spoke to the girls..”How is she behaving girls ?”

Mistress Dee was first to talk “Not too bad Mistress Mummy...although I have just had to gag her with the cock gag but I used my new mask as you can see so she will realise shortly she should have Not been so noisy !”....Mistress Mummy gigged at her comment turning to look at the mask she knelt Down to look at the severe looking mask, again completely ignored my begging eyes & sobbing....just then Mistress Carla spoke to her “Mistress Mummy why don’t you stay there & have Crybaby look at you as I put her to sleep for a short nap ?”

Yes wonderful idea Mistress Carla.....”Crybaby Sweetheart Look at Mummy...Keep looking at me ..No Matter What.. Ok Baby? (Ga’Ga) Clever Baby..Now !” She lifted a small fork hit it off her hand then held it to my ear...

Wwwwaaaa, Wwwwwwwaaaaa, wwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaa. WWWWaaaaaa.

I started Crying out like a real Baby it could be heard even past the cock gag !

I was imitating the lullaby !!! It must have been some sort of hypothesis & the fork was the key seed !

Mistress Carla raised her arm high in the air gave a grunt pulling Down sharply!

At number seven everything went Dark as I passed out to clapping in my ears fading into the distance......

[prettywordsyouleft]

Forsaken | Part 14

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story. In this particular part, there is a detailed battle scene resulting in injuries and fatalities.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

“They’re going to live.”

It didn’t matter how much you voiced your statement, even you were struggling to believe in it now. You had managed to escape, though there was no slowing down for some time. The air was tense, the sacrifice given for the six of you to get away from Argo and his men hung over the heads of everyone. Dusk arrived and the decision to continue onto the docks throughout the night meant there was no time to rest and recover.

You knew Mark was sporting a minor injury from combat and yet he continued as if it didn’t bother him. Perhaps it didn’t. And yet, you worried about him joining Jackson in his evident pain. Jackson travelled in and out of consciousness, letting out whines and grunts sporadically.

The plan to leave the base hadn’t seemed this grim, even when everyone had spoken about it in depth. You felt ridiculous for being so naïve. The past two days had felt more like two years in length and the waves of emotions had truly taken their toll on you.

“Rest,” Jinyoung said into your ear but you shook your head stubbornly. His arm that hadn’t shifted from around your middle curled further into you, pulling you back into his armoured torso.

You fought his instruction and sat back up, fingering the dark strands of the horse’s mane instead. “I’m staying awake.”

“Don’t resist rest when you need it.”

“No one else is resting.”

“We’re used to this,” Jinyoung refuted and you heaved a troubled breath.

“I’m not. I’m not used to this at all.”

“I know and that’s why you need to rest so you can face tomorrow as best as you can.”

“Why? When Mark’s injured and acting like it’s fine to be.”

The fellow rider glanced at the pair of you and then winced. “It’s not my first injury, Y/N. It’s just a light cut, I’ll be fine.”

“Until you’re not and then it’ll be you in the cart next to Jackson!”

“Y/N,” Jinyoung growled warningly and you tore your gaze from Mark’s stunned expression and down to the hairs you were holding within your hands. Your tears fell upon your fingers, soaking the strands. The man behind you softened at your spilling emotions, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault I’m not cut out for this.”

“I don’t want you to be accustomed to any of this.”

“I’m no help to any of you. I couldn’t do anything when they surrounded us and now we have no idea if BamBam and Yugyeom are-”

“He was the spy.”

You nodded sadly. “I knew already. Jackson spoke of his suspicions.”

“And yet you are worried about him? We wouldn’t be in this mess with Argo hunting us down if it weren’t for him sharing information over the radio.”

“Of course! He risked his life for us to get this far. He could be hurt or…”

“He could be dead,” Jinyoung finished your statement. “He would have died with no regrets then.”

“I don’t want him to be gone from this world!” you admitted tearfully. “He was too young to have completed everything he was destined to.”

“Life isn’t so clear cut for us, you know that. We’re lucky to even make it to adults. Most Forsaken don’t live that long.”

“It’s all so cruel.”

Jinyoung held you more tightly. “We have each other, we have a life ahead of us that we can live in gratitude for the choices the others made for us to have this. Let’s not think so horribly anymore, hm?”

“You sound like me,” you mentioned with a watery chuckle. “It’s me who is always looking for the brighter side to everything.”

“Well, I’ve got to start trying now too.”

“Why?”

Pressing his lips to your crown, Jinyoung nestled his head into your neck. “Because I’m no longer a warrior. Just a man in love who wants to settle down with his family away from all of this.”

You smiled. “I love you, Jinyoung.”

“I love you even more, Y/N.”

You had been lulled into slumber in the early hours of the morning, the continuous movement of the horse rocking you back and forth and easing your concerns. However, you were woken with a jolt, Youngjae’s scream echoing within your mind.

Eyes now wide, you looked ahead to see the horse and cart sliding on the path dangerously, the majestic animal falling to the ground with a groan.

There laid an arrow in its chest.

“We’re under attack!” Jaebum cried as another arrow hurtled towards your convoy from the east. Jinyoung’s horse came to a stop and you leapt out of his grip, running towards the cart now on its side.

Youngjae was cradling Jackson’s head in his arms. “Is he okay?!”

“I’ll check!” you exclaimed, your hands shaking as you reached to search for a pulse. You nodded rapidly when you found it. “He’s still with us!”

Your attention turned to the new battle in front of you. It was a much smaller group, some twenty men with a battered and bloodied leader riding towards you all. Jinyoung dismounted his horse and pulled out his sword, swinging away any arrows that came his way. Mark and Jaebum brought down four attackers before running out of arrows themselves, reaching for alternative protection.

“You bother me greatly, cat.”

“Still alive, are we? I didn’t know dogs had multiple lives as well,” Jinyoung grunted, his face contorted in a deadly manner. You had never seen him look this dark and it worried you when he smiled wickedly.

The trained warrior in Jinyoung wouldn’t back down no matter what happened next.

Glancing at Youngjae and then back to Jackson, you clamped your eyes shut. You heard nothing of the pre-fight banter that occurred or the roars from Mark and Jaebum as they charged forward. You didn’t pay any mind to Youngjae crying out for clarification of what he should do.

You cleared your mind of everything, searching deep within. You faced your timid self, looking at her determinedly. She shook her head. “I cannot do this.”

“You can.”

“This is the end for us, isn’t it?” your inner voice questioned with fear. Reaching out for her, you jostled her around.

“Snap out of it, we can do this together.”

“Why are you so sure of yourself? Argo has lived. That means all those who tried to stop him have failed. The men before you are exhausted and injured. You’re just a noblemen’s daughter. That’s all.”

“I am more than that,” you voiced calmly. “I can be more than that.”

“I’m scared.”

“I need you to help me. I need you to try.”

Slowly opening your eyes with renewed clarity, you turned to Youngjae panicking beside you and put your dagger in his hand. “Protect Jackson.”

“What are you planning to do?!” he enquired desperately as you reached into the crumpled supplies for Jackson’s sheathed sword. Pulling it out, you gripped at the hilt and stood up, immediately aware of the fight coming your way. Swinging the weapon as best as you could, the blade connected with flesh. You allowed only the slightest tremble to make its way through you as you thrust the weapon at the man to ensure he wouldn’t reach Youngjae and Jackson before you continued forward.

You knew you weren’t the tidiest, but with your senses heightened, you were able to swing when you needed to attack and duck when you needed to back off. Your presence wasn’t lost on the others and Jaebum instantly flanked your side, his gaze unfaltering from the battle.

“Don’t be rash, Y/N. Only attack who comes your way.”

“Jackson cannot defend himself, I’m merely here in his place!” you exclaimed, spinning around and jabbing out fruitlessly at an enemy. Refocusing, you managed to connect with him a second time, not without him knocking your sword out of your grip in the process. You cried and this alerted Jinyoung, the man swiftly clashing swords with Argo whilst backing up towards you.

“I can do this!” you stated loudly at him, ducking at the attacker’s approach again and reaching for your discarded weapon, elbowing the man viciously. You sliced at his arm before spinning around again, striking him in his back.

“Y/N!” Youngjae screamed and you moved back now that your attacker had relented, trying to reach the cart before the enemy did.

It was too late, he aimed his sword right through the small gap of armour and into Jackson’s abdomen, Youngjae managing to make the man drop to his knees with the dagger and you swung at him and killed him on the spot.

Dropping the weapon, you pushed your hands under the amour to put pressure on the wound as Youngjae loosened the protective layer off. “He’s losing too much blood!”

“Where’s Jaebum’s kit?!”

“Y/N! They’re still coming our way! Go! I need you to give me time.”

If your clarity before had given you the drive to step forward, anguish only made you more ruthless. Your swings were more desperate yet precise, and you managed to keep the attackers away from the cart. Brushing aside the tears, uncaring of the blood you streaked over your face from doing so, you glanced back at Youngjae before running forward. There was no relent in their onslaught, the others fighting endlessly. Jinyoung was battling between Argo and his men who tried to take him down and you attempted your best to get closer to the activity, hoping to take some of the heat off of Jinyoung.

But you weren’t made to be a fighter.

Hot tears ran down your face when a man thrust his sword at your thigh, causing you to drop to the ground in pain with a cry. Before you faced further injury, Mark leapt around and took off their head in a single swing, kicking away another that came at your back. He looked at you and then back at the cart, trying to decide where you needed to be.

“I can do this!” you continued to exclaim, taking Mark’s hand and using the sword to get yourself up. Finding an inner strength you hadn’t believed possible to garner until this moment, you continued despite the searing pain.

However, you tired more easily than the men did, and once again you were knocked off your feet, this time by Argo himself.

“You are a cunning little witch. I should have taken your head off before you had the chance to speak.”

You smirked. “And you’re an absolute fool.”

“Bold words for a warrior now kneeling before me.”

“At least you see me as someone formidable to label as such,” you mentioned tiredly, blinking slowly when the man disappeared. You knew the swift shadow moving in front of you belonged to Jinyoung.

“Do not touch her!”

“Why, worried you won’t be able to keep her alive, boy? Look at her, she’s already done for. We could stop this here. You could join me and we could lead a new army.”

A clashing of swords showed Jinyoung’s response. They battled it out some more and another man jumped at Jinyoung, causing him to pause with Argo to fight him off. It was a cheap tactic and you watched in horror as Argo knocked Jinyoung down to the ground, putting his boot on top of his shoulder, grinding his toe right into him.

The wail was deafening.

“Not so powerful now, are you, kitty cat?” Argo motioned victoriously, pointing his sword at Jinyoung’s throat.

He resisted the man as best as he could but Jinyoung knew he was trapped, his gaze falling to yours. You shook your head, pleading with Jinyoung to regain that harshness to his expression that he held before. You scrambled to your feet, limping your way through the chaos towards them.

Jinyoung was losing hope.

“Good, you can watch me slay the man you love from this world. Or should I kill you first and then him? Decisions, decisions.”

You noticed how tied up both Mark and Jaebum were still, their injuries now slowing them some.

It seemed as if there was no way out.

You wouldn’t give up yet. Repositioning Jackson’s sword, you held it out at Argo. “Get off him.”

“You don’t scare me, poppet.”

“I SAID GET OFF!” you screamed, stunning all that were in the vicinity.

“Y/N,” Jinyoung said, gasping when Argo moved his foot closer to his throat. You barely tore your eyes away from the assailant to glance at Jinyoung before glaring again at Argo.

“Remember what… I said when I taught… you to fight?”

Your mind slipped back to your first lesson with a sword.

“Jinyoung, I’m not a killer.”

“I do not want to make you one but there may come a time where you need to choose to fight. What will you do if someone cuts me down?”

Gripping the sword more tightly, you looked at your situation and then at Jinyoung. He nodded. Driving Jackson’s sword directly into the foot oppressing Jinyoung’s ability to fight back, you burst into tears, knowing you had gone far enough to rest the soil underneath Jinyoung’s shoulder as well. Jinyoung smiled encouragingly despite instantly paling, whilst Argo screamed in pain and lost his footing. Argo’s sword dropped onto Jinyoung and he reached for it, immediately embedding it in his side.

And before you could move any further, a bloodied figure came into view, reaching down and sliced at Argo’s neck, his gurgles soon ceasing as the life left him.

You glanced up at Youngjae who had put an end to the tyrant before turning back to Jinyoung, his breathing coming to a halt then as well.

“No!” you wailed, cradling his limp head in your lap. “You can’t leave me. Not yet! Please stay with me!”

_________________

Part 15 (Final)

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

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[ktheist]

interlude: sit still, look pretty [2]

synopsis. yoongi is like the embodiment of the dark side of the moon while jungkook is the luminous, shining side that showers you with his light. one grounds you down to earth and the other makes you want to reach your hand up and touch the cosmos.

but you can’t be making decisions on your own now. everything you do and all you will do, is subject to the happiness of the little bundle of joy you had along the way of your fallen marriage.

and it’s obvious as day, your daughter won’t accept anyone else as her father other than min yoongi and nobody else as her mother other than you.

muses. ex-husband!yoongi x ceo!reader x co ceo!jungkook

chapters. previous | next

x

“i’m so sorry to drag you on a monday morning like this, jungkook.” you shoot him an apologetic look before undoing the seatbelt.

“don’t sweat it. nobody could have foreseen that car of yours to break down.” his lips curl upwards the way only jeon jungkook can manage but it’s short lived as his meets your gaze sternly, “being borderline crazily involved with your job is good but you need to be aware of your surroundings too - like remembering to take your car for maintenance.”

you fix him a sheepish smile before hwayoung’s groggy “mommy are we there yet?” catches your attention.

“wakey wakey sleepy head.” you shake her tiny foot to wake her up before opening the door on your side and hopping off the car to get to her.

”mommy, if i ask daddy to let me stay with you, can you take me back?” hwayoung asks with a small, tired voice. a pudgy hand going up to rub the sleepiness away.

you hum, lips curling upwards as you undo the hook to the baby seat she’s strapped in, “hmm but won’t you miss daddy, sweetie?”

the little girl seems to give it a thought before nodding, arms stretched as far as her body could. “i miss daddy this much.”

you chuckle, picking her up in one arm before reaching to for the bag of newly bought baby essentials on the other end of the car. before you even come inches to grabbing it, the car door on that side swings open, revealing a grinning jungkook, “let me.”

‘seriously, thanks.’ you mouth to him, heat rushing to your face when he winks at hwayoung as though sharing an inside joke. the little girl, noticing the gesture giggles to herself.

they’ve only met for ten minutes when you handed him the baby while you transfer the baby bag filled with hwayoung’s essentials and another grocery bag into the backseat of his car. he comes out with hwayoung in his arms two minutes later, the two chuckling to themselves while you eyed the man suspiciously. yet within the span of that time frame, they’ve already become the best of friends.

“will you and uncle koo stay and play with me, mommy?” she peers up at you, puppy eyes and pouty lips. 

you hit the 7th floor button once you get into the elevator, jungkook standing closer than you prefer when a couple gets onto the elevator with you.

“we’ll play some other time, how about that? you can’t play because you have to get ready for school, remember?” you offer, ruffling the natural locks of your child’s pig tails.

hwayoung huffs, lips pursed into the ultimate pout.

“don’t you like school, youngie? you can play with your friends everyday until you get to visit mommy again. it’ll go by in a breeze.” jungkook leans down to hwayoung’s eye level, making him appear too big in this tiny space while holding a baby bag and another bag of a groceries in his hands.

“i do,” hwayoung pauses to play with her fingers.

“but?” you offer, smiling.

“but i like mommy and daddy and uncle koo more! i want us to play together!” she jumps in excitement in your arms, lips curling into the brightest smile, the sun can’t compare.

somewhere deep in your heart, you know that can never happen and it pains you that you still can’t set your ego down and sit down in a room with yoongi to fulfill your child’s wish of seeing her favorite people play with her like the old times. with jungkook as an addition too. 

“we will, sweetie. but you have to promise me something.” you step out of the elevator when it reaches the familiar hallway where the walls are painted white and there’s a fake potted plant at the end of it, inside the grail of the apartment.

“what?” hwayoung blinks, her innocent curiosity making you chuckle.

“you gotta promise me you’ll have the funnest fun with your friends at school so they won’t feel sad if they know you like playing with me and uncle koo more.” you pinch her cheeks, coming to stop in front of the apartment at the end of the hallway before ringing the door bell. 

hwayoung doesn’t need to think about it to reply, “i promise!”

the door swings open, revealing a fully awake yoongi who’s bathed and dressed for the day. back then, you have to drag him out of bed to get him to wake up this early in the morning. you don’t miss the questioning look he gives jungkook but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

“daddy!” hwayoung chirps, probably the only person immune to the man’s ever unsmiling face as he goes to unlock the grail and take her from your arms without any words.

you hand him the familiar mickey mouse printed bag that you took from the man standing next to you.

“these are formulas, baby foods and ointment for the rash on hwayoung’s back.” you’re about to hand him the grocery bag too before he rejects it.

“we don’t need those.” he declines flatly. “i’m fully capable of getting my daughter’s supplies with my savings.”

your heart clenches in your chest at the way he insinuates the words you threw at him a week ago.

“yeah, but i bought extras so i thought i’d give some to you.” you reason, lips curling in an awkward angle when you meet your child’s observing eyes. that smile of hers now gone.

“look, you feel bad for what you said to me and you think buying materialistic items in the name of our child’s well being will make it up for it because you also know what i said about you putting minimal effort and patting your own back, is true as day.” yoongi says all with a straight face and a barely-give-single-fuck tone.

“at least, yoongi, i don’t make my kid cry and ruin her mood with my blunt honesty.” you shoot back, gaze steely before it softens when you see your kid’s tears pooling in her eyes.

you’re about to apologize to your kid for your own failure in containing your emotions even though parenting doesn’t work that way: show, don’t tell, they say.

“youngie,” jungkook calls from next to you, shoulders hunched to match her eye level and lips tilted into one of his bright smiles as he waves both his hands minimally, “me and mommy will see you soon.”

and just like that, the mood changes and you’re able to smile from your own heart - though perhaps it’s because you’re trying hard not to look at the man holding her.

“bye, youngie.” you wave as well before she starts waving back, “remember your promise, okay?”

it breaks your heart to watch your kid hold back her tears as yoongi turn around and step into the apartment but you manage to keep the smile on until the door closes behind them.

thankfully, jungkook walks a few feet ahead of you on your way to his car - so he wouldn’t see your distraught expression. by the time you slip into the passenger seat, you’ve managed to school a neutral, fit-for-business face.

“so it’s a promise,” he says in between having his hand on the back of your headrest, his other hand maneuvering the wheel effortlessly - like he can do clean reverses like this in his sleep.

“hm?” you blink, questioning.

when the car begins to roll forward and both his hands are on the wheel, he steals a glance at you. his signature dazzling smile present, “you’ll invite me next week for our play date.”

“you’re gonna need a kid of your own for a play date to be - well, a play date,” you point out.

“maybe i can borrow my nephew.” he hums, as though thinking out loud but his next words makes your heart stutter in its rhythm, “so it’ll be a double date.”

x

note: there won’t be anymore updates for this drabble, i’ve lost interest in it and find other au’s to be more interesting to write. thanks for reading though!

[writingfordayz]

See You There, -K

Ever since Lance almost died on a mission, Keith's been on edge and more rash in his decision making. When he doesn't know who to turn to to help sort out his feelings, he starts sending messages to a dead Shiro in hopes of finding peace; however, Lotor attempts to turn the team against him by manipulating the messages into a sign of betrayal.

“That’s it. I’ve let this go on long enough. You cannot continue making reckless, unauthorized decisions,” Allura scolded Keith as he peeled off his helmet. He was barely even listening while the team gathered around him, his mind constantly replaying the explosion he’d just nearly escaped.

“Keith?! Do you have anything to say for yourself?”She pushed as Lotor took a fortifying place by her side.

“I did what I had to do.”

“What you had to do? You broke formation to fly headfirst into their battleship! The plan was to board and secure, not destroy!” Although Allura was the only one yelling, it was evident by the team’s worn out faces that they were tired of his bullshit.

It’s hard to notice little things in the heat of battle when your heart is beating in time with the blasts and your brain is on autopilot, merely trying to finish the job alive and with little recollection of the destruction, you leave behind. Keith’s usually good at tuning everything out, but this time, the formula was off.

Keith’s heart had completely stopped and he became agonizingly aware of the fact that Lance was stuck in a tractor beam with a canon about to sign his life away. Lance never radioed for help, never informed the team of the cannon for fear that he’d ruin the whole plan, and he must have struggled in the beam’s grasp for a good two minutes before the weapon was fully charged, but it only took Keith a second register what he was about to lose and decide to plow his lion into the metal mid-blast. Screw the plan. If Lance wasn’t here, then what’s the point of anything?

Even now, Keith could read the guilty expression on Lance’s face as he tried to sink to the back of the crowd and go unnoticed. Just three weeks ago, he’d confided about his uselessness to Keith, in his ability to fuck up missions. Through tears and bloodied fists beaten desperately against the wall, he begged to be worth anything, even if it were just for a moment. Keith felt helpless then, not good with words and definitely not good with knowing how to handle someone crying, so he settled on a hug that lasted several hours and a humming that brought sleep. They hadn’t talked about that night since, but Keith vowed to never let Lance blame himself for anything again.

Looking Allura straight in the eyes, Keith confidently explained, “I thought the cannon was going to destroy the castle. I had to stop it. As for unauthorized decisions, last time I checked, I was the black paladin. I’m the leader here, so I call the shots.”

Lotor sighed loudly, feigning regret. “I really didn’t want to disrupt your family, but I think it’s best you know the so-called ‘black paladin’ has been lying to you all for months now.”

That comment struck a new fear in Keith, one he never imagined he’d have to face with his closest friends in earshot. He’s lied to all of them at some point, but always because it was better than the alternative. On top of that, he knew how easily Lotor could poison them with doubt; he chose his words carefully and only attempted it if he had evidence. It had worked on Keith before, but he felt the deception internally was worth the alliances they gained throughout the galaxy. A war can be fought with six soldiers, but it can’t be won.

Allura’s loyalty to Lotor was unwavering as she gripped his arm and picked up the accusation where he’d left off: “It’s true, he’s a danger to Voltron… a danger to the whole universe. We can’t let this go unnoticed.”

Keith was beyond irritated and beginning to panic now that Allura had verified his words, but he also knew that Shiro would tell him to be patient and focus. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “What exactly are you implying?”

“We’ve seen the messages. Every few nights you fly off to do ‘perimeter checks’, but really you’re sending encrypted updates on our progress to the Galra.”

The room was now a rainbow of statues, and Keith realized for the first time that black is unnatural in a rainbow; he sticks out in a way that diminishes the liveliness of the rest. He knew exactly what they were talking about, the alleged messages, but if they really saw all of the messages… His eyes met Lance’s for the first time tonight, but oddly enough they didn’t seem confused or upset. Those blue eyes had been stuck at high tide for weeks now, threatening to spill over, but now they were a raging storm.

“I’m not sure what it is you think you read, but Keith would never betray us,” Lance declared.

Lotor shrugged and said, “Well, fortunately, we have all of them, including the ones detailing your shortcomings.”

Lance shifted in place and crossed his arms to keep himself from looking anxious. The one thing that would completely break him would be Keith admitting what Lance had feared all along.

“As I said, Keith would never betray us,” Lance repeated.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I read a few of these out loud,” Lotor said while pulling up a holograph of the messages:

Today we liberated some hostages and were able to provide them medical treatment. In doing so, we also gained a cargo ship full of weapons to arm the resistance. Be careful approaching the castle. Next, we’ll be heading to Arus. See you there. -K

“That’s enough,” Keith insisted.

“Why stop there when there’s so many more that detail your grim outlook of the team?” Lotor questioned.

Another political alliance was made, bringing the total number of planets supporting Voltron to 13. They are all significantly smaller than the Galra Empire, and even together they probably won’t be strong enough to win the war. Making a pit stop at Balmara to rest. See you there. -K

The team has been arguing nonstop and this makes us vulnerable. We’ve lost four battles in a row, and the yellow lion is out of commission. Stuck in the Javeeno Star System. See you there. -K

“I said that’s enough! These are personal.” Keith practically begged, activating his sword.

“If you’re as loyal as you claim, then you wouldn’t have anything to hide!” Lotor declared.

Lance was assigned a search and rescue mission, but in the process, both the hostage and his partner from the Blade died. He can’t perform basic tasks and is starting to drag the team down. Not sure if I’ll be able to find someone else to pilot red before the assassination attempt on the witch. We wouldn’t make it with him. Stopping for supplies on Pollux. See you there. -K

If Keith had known that’s what was going to be read to Lance, he would’ve stabbed Lotor the moment he landed in the castle, but he didn’t and now Lance looked like a mirror shattered in its frame, trying desperately to keep himself together. All the injuries Keith had gotten in space don’t compare to the pain he feels seeing Lance become void of all life, in fact, this moment ranks in the top three worst moments of his life including when his dad died and when Shiro died.

“Lance, I swear to you that I didn’t write that.”

For a moment it seemed like he couldn’t speak, eyes trained on the ground, until Lance quietly asked, “So you didn’t write any of those messages?”

“No- well yes. The first two, yes I did. But that last one I didn’t. I would never.”

“Whether you claim to have written them or not, you are sending messages to a hidden address. You’re explaining our weaknesses...disclosing our location!” Allura yelled.

“To Shiro!” Keith couldn’t take the accusations, the prying eyes, Lance's mindset.

“I write messages to Shiro hoping one day he’ll respond! That he’ll tell me what to do because I keep failing you, and I don’t know how to be a leader! That he’ll tell me not to worry. That he’ll tell me we’ll survive this. That he’ll show up while we’re collecting supplies and everything can just go back to normal!”

For the first time since he lost Shiro, tears poured out of Keith’s eyes as he tried desperately to hold back a sob to not look as weak as he felt, but it was that vulnerability that proved he was telling the truth. Just as quick as Keith had attempted to sacrifice himself for Lance, everyone surrounded Lotor with their bayards drawn. Even Allura, as conflicted as she was, joined them as Lance took the lead.

“Hunk, Pidge, take Lotor to the holding cell,” Lance commanded while his gun burned an invisible line through Lotor’s head. Lotor narrowed his eyes at Lance, challenging him.

“You will be the one to die before the war ends. I’ll see to it,” Lotor threatened.

Fuck patience.

“Over my dead body!” Keith yelled and threw his sword directly through the center of Lotor’s back. It clanged against the ground, dust particles dissipating and floating towards the ceiling.

“Where’d he go-”

That’s what Keith last asked. That’s all he keeps muttering as the ringing in his ears intensifies, and the smoke from the explosion clouds his vision. There’s someone yelling, but it seems distant and indecipherable. His eyes focus on a drop of blood that runs down his nose and falls to the ground, joining the small pool of red that had already formed. A lot of red is usually an indication of an injury or anticipated death, but it’s also a representation of Lance: passionate, fierce, and inspiring. Lance who stood up for him when no one else did. Lance who never questions his decisions. Lance who loves his family with every ounce of his being. Lance who can see the hope in all of the despair. Lance who has the most uplifting smile. Lance who currently doesn’t have a smile.

Keith was pulled back to reality as pain split through his head. Hands gripped him roughly in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and his eyes had shifted from the pool of blood to the red of Lance’s suit to the black behind his eyelids.

Several hours later after the fires were put out and the castle had been put on lockdown, Keith sat on his bed going through the messages he had actually sent to Shiro. Lance sat across from him quietly; he hadn’t talked since the explosion, but he wasn’t about to let Mr. I’mFineIDon’tNeedAHealingPod with a slight case of traumatic brain injury go unmonitored. Keith peered at Lance over his screen and finally spoke, “You know, you can probably put your bayard away now.”

Lance didn’t look up, tightening his grip on the gun; “I thought you were gonna die. Not gonna let that happen again.”

Keith frowned, knowing the feeling all too well. “I thought you were gonna die when boarding that ship earlier.”

“So you did crash into that cannon because of me!” Lance snapped, finally glaring at him, “And what was that ‘over my dead body’ bullshit? You can’t just die for me!”

“I can, and I will if I have to.”

“Why?! I get hostages killed. I get partners killed. I can’t perform basic tasks-” Lance was getting so worked up, his knuckles were turning white around his bayard.

“I told you I didn’t write that.”

“Then what did you write?” Keith could see how desperate Lance was to know for certain it wasn’t true, and he knew right then that whatever happens after he reads it is worth it if Lance can believe in himself. He slowly reached across the bed and slid his hand on to Lance’s. Rubbing his thumb lightly over his knuckles, he whispered, “Please put the gun down first.”

Lance stared at their hands for a moment, and considered not listening to him; it would mean this could continue, and oh boy did he want Keith to hold his hand forever. Reluctantly, he leaned the gun against the wall, but as he brought his hands back to his lap, Keith reclaimed one and held it tightly in an attempt to steady his voice before he spoke:

“Lance was assigned a search and rescue mission, but in the process, both the hostage and his partner from the Blade died. I assigned him this mission because I believed he was the only one who could successfully complete it, but after those losses, I never want to assign him a rescue mission again. I never want to assign him any mission. I’m so terrified of losing him. He’s my right-hand man, and I wouldn’t even be able to attempt to lead this team without him. He’s the only person who’s made me smile in years... I know this job is dangerous, and we all run the risk of getting hurt or killed, but I’ve already lost two of the three people I love, and I don’t think I could handle losing him too. That’s so selfish of me. I know it is, and that’s why I need your help. He’s hurting Shiro, and I don’t know how to fix it. You know I’ve never been good at this. Please help me...We’re still near Olkarion. See you there. -K”

Keith let out a nervous breath and looked back to their hands locked between them, trying to decide if he was unnaturally cold due to nerves or if Lance was always this warm.

“There’s more, a lot more, about you. I promise they’re all good, and you’re more than welcome to read them,” Keith said through a slight smile as he held the screen up for Lance to take, but as soon as it was in reach, Lance shoved it away. He leaned up to rest on his knees in front of Keith and carefully wound his arms around his neck.”I don’t want to hurt you more than have been...but I also never want to let go again,” Lance whispered.

[aniray]

Into The Mist

Into The Mist

A little oneshot for Tommy and Lizzie.

~*~*~

The rally had gone without issue.

Lizzie had sent Ruby and Charlie off to bed after supper. They’d complained a bit about not having her read a story, but she’d shooed them off fairly easily. Then she’d dismissed Frances and the other staff for the evening. Turing on the radio, Lizzie had taken her seat in the library. And she waited, like Tommy said. And she listened, like Tommy said.

And the rally went on without issue.

Mosely spoke his lies and filth. The crowd cheered. And still she sat and she waited and she listened. Then the event was finished. The sounds of a crowd dispersing peacefully came through the speakers for a moment. The evening program turned to static. And still Lizzie sat. Because there had been nothing- no gunshot, no screams and chaos- nothing Tommy had told her was to happen.

But that had been hours ago. The day was beginning to make its presence known out the window of her bedroom. She had waited up for Tommy- she didn’t know why. She had listened all night for the crunch of tires on gravel. And yet the sound only came now, as the weak morning sun failed to break through the thick fog that had surrounded Arrow house in the night.

She saw Arthur park the car in front of the fountain. She watched as he got out and half stumbled his way to the other side. For a moment she wondered if Tommy had been injured, what with Arthur dragging his brother from the car. But there was no blood that she could see. And after a moment Tommy had righted himself. Well, he stood unaided, at any rate.

A chill seemed to wrap itself around Lizzie as she watched her husband. The man was always a bit stiff, a bit distant, a bit cold. But never frozen- not even the night he’d lost Grace. But now… Now, Lizzie felt as if he had turned to ice. A part of her- the part she often hated- said go to him. But the smarter side of her said that she’d be of no help. And she couldn’t handle his abuse this early in the day.

So she stayed where she was and watched his brother speak words she couldn’t hear and didn’t care to know. She pulled her arms tighter around herself as if to ward off the chill that Tommy sent out- reaching her even through the walls and distance between them. Her mind took her to the day’s events- visiting Ada, helping Charlie with his lessons, trying to keep Ruby from ruining another of her dresses. She stood at the window and planned the dinner menu and what letters needed writing for the many Shelby charities.

So she almost missed him when he left.

He’d turned towards the field- the one that he’d blown to kingdom come not too long ago. He marched towards it as if he were heading into a meeting- preparing for a fight. And just before the fog pulled him into its cold embrace, she saw it. The twitch of his hand at his side. The sharp yank as he pulled his gun free of its holster. And suddenly she was made of ice.

‘Should you choose to depart…’

Her feet were moving before she’d had time to tell them where to go. The corridor seemed to last for ages instead of the mere seconds it usually took to get to the stairs. She barely felt the cold of the floor on her bare feet as she ran to the front door- her coat left on its hook. It had been a long while since she’d had to run barefoot outside- but her body could never stop being used to pain or forget how to push through it.

‘Either by your own hand or another…’

She heard Arthur call after her, but she ignored him. Because she could still see him- just a bit. The swish of his black coat was still there through the fog. So she chased after it. She couldn’t lose sight of it. Gravel gave way to damp grass, then grass gave way to mud and still she kept going. She could hear him now, just barely- talking to ghosts, talking to himself- talking…just talking.

She tripped.

She lost him.

Lizzie scrabbled back to her feet, careful now. She knew he was in front of her, and she knew he’d shoot her by mistake in the state he was in. So now she moved slower. She listened harder. And she heard him. Close, muttering about Irish whiskey and dead horses and barmaids not counting for something. But Lizzie didn’t give a shit what he was saying so long as he kept saying it. So long as she found him before he…

Then he was there. Appearing in front of her like a ghost out of the mist. And she wished she hadn’t seen him- not like this. She winced in pain as he screamed into the void. Her knees felt weak as she took in the gun digging into his temple- the gun held in his own hand. She crept closer, her cold feet sinking into the muck. She moved round to his front, slowly.

He was mad. She’d wondered for years, suspected for months, but now she knew. She could see it in him. In his eyes and his face and the way he held himself. Sanity had fled the confines of Tommy Shelby’s body. At least for this moment. Lizzie moved in front of him- right into his line of sight. His eyes flashed to hers- then through her to some other realm.

“Tommy…” His lashes fluttered and the gun pressed harder to his head- the skin blanching from the pressure. “Tommy, it’s me, Lizzie. Lizzie Stark.” For a moment she saw him- the boy from before the war. For a moment she saw the man who’d stolen her heart from her chest.  “You used to walk me home from the pub when I had late nights. Can you walk me home, Tommy?”

She reached out- slowly, keeping her hand palm up where he could see it if he looked- and carefully wrapped her fingers around his on the gun. It was a terrible moment. She could feel it- a dark power rising in her. One twitch of his finger and he’d be gone. One instant of weakness or fear. One small thing and Tommy Shelby would be no more. And she could stop it.

Or she could not.  

Her hand shook over his as she stayed still. Her index finger slid to rest over his on the trigger. How many times had he hurt her? How many times had he used her for business or pleasure and given nothing of himself in exchange? How many evenings did she spend watching Ruby and Charlie grow still at the sound of the door, only to relax when it was Finn or Ada or anyone not their father? ‘In my head I still pay you for it…’And she’d taken his price, hadn’t she? She’d paid it over and over with blood and tears and bruises- from him and others. He’d turned her love for him into a tool.

But how many times had he held her after she’d had a nightmare? How many times had he gone to the kitchen himself to bring her a sweet when she’d been carrying Ruby? How many times had he laughed with her in the office and joked at the Garrison? How many times had she watched him slip into Ruby’s room to kiss her goodnight?

Her hand slid back down, fingers curling around his wrist. Gently, she coaxed his arm down to his side. She put the safety on and nudged his finger off the trigger. Then Lizzie put her arm around his neck and held him close- held him tight. A heady rush of emotions bombarded her as she felt him take a shuddery breath. Tears threatened to spill as she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

“It’s alright, Tommy.” Her voice was shaky as was the rest of her- or maybe it was him. Maybe it was the both of them at once. His hand still held the gun and hers still held his wrist and it seemed appropriate. It seemed like the sum of their marriage. Him, cold and steady and destructive. Her, warm and rash and keeping the peace. “It’s gonna be alright.”

A hot tear landed on her neck, left a warm trail along her skin. But she didn’t say anything- she didn’t so much as move. Tommy’s arm came up to rest on her lower back. She let him, she fought back her tears and she held him tighter. And she didn’t know how long it was that they stood together like that, but Lizzie wasn’t moving until he did.

Finally, he pulled away. Lizzie let her arm fall from around him. There was no space between them, but there was distance now. He was back in his head, back in this world with her. She let go of the hold she had on his wrist and watched as he stared down at the gun. He took off the safety and Lizzie’s heart clenched. But she didn’t move. Tommy raised the gun, aiming at something she knew she wouldn’t see if she turned around. She didn’t flinch when he fired.

Tommy tucked the gun back into its holster. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He handed her one, and Lizzie took it with a slight nod. She watched the flicker of the flame as Tommy lit her cigarette and then his own. The brightness of the flame seemed to shock her body into awareness. Suddenly her feet ached and her toes were going numb. Her bare legs and arms were cold and she hugged herself to hold in whatever heat there was to hold.

Her movement had Tommy shrugging off his coat and wrapping it around her. He took hold of her hand and pulled her along through the field. Every step was agony, but Lizzie kept quiet. The moment felt too fragile to disturb. She was afraid that one wrong thing would send him back to screaming at nothing and pressing guns to his head. She’d not risk it so soon.

Arthur met them at the edge of the drive, but Tommy didn’t slow. Lizzie sent what she hoped was a reassuring look back to Arthur, but his eyes were on the ground and he was turning back to his car. She’d have Polly go round and check on him later. Facing forward once more, Lizzie watched as the front door opened. Mary stood, concerned expression clear on her face, as she took in Lizzie’s bare feet. The usual insecurity she felt when the staff disapproved of her were absent this time as Lizzie walked into the house.

Tommy let go of Lizzie’s hand. He walked into his study and she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She slipped out of Tommy’s coat and tossed it on the bed. Then she went into the bath and turned on the water, letting the tub fill. Her dress was discarded on the floor and with only a bit of discomfort Lizzie sank into the hot water.

The warmth had seeped into her muscles and the sting from rocks and sticks was fading by the time the door opened. Her eyes were closed but only Tommy would come in while she was bathing and not announce himself first. Cold fingers came to rest on her stomach and she opened her eyes to see Tommy settled on the floor next to tub. His eyes met hers as his thumb drew circles into her skin. She wasn’t sure what she saw in the blue of his eyes, but it was heavy.

“What stopped you?” She bit her lip, and feigned confusion. That moment in the field was a bit too much for her think about just then. At least it was too much to think about honestly. But Tommy being Tommy couldn’t let the question alone. His hand left her stomach and he wrapped his fingers around her wrist-like she had done. “All you had to do was press down. A small thing to end Tommy Shelby. So what stopped you, Lizzie?”

She couldn’t tell him. She wouldn’t. She’d not give him anymore of her to tear apart when he got angry or use when business dictated. He knew why, and he was a prick for asking. Her hand pulled free of Tommy’s grip. Her eyes left his to stare at the ceiling instead. “Charlie and Ruby’d miss you,” she said, voice flat and empty.  She saw him give a slow nod. “Besides, it wasn’t me that stopped anything.  When've I ever stopped you doing something you wanted to do?”

Tommy stood up slowly. She could almost feel the ache of his muscles in her own body. His eyes were on her, she could feel it. But she didn’t look. She let her eyes fall closed again, trying to ignore Tommy and the field and Mosely and just everything. And it was almost working- she had almost got her mind to stop buzzing and her heart to stop aching.

But then he spoke…

“She was calling my name.” Don’t look at him. “I could see her waiting for me.” If you look it’ll only be worse for you. Her teeth sank into her lip as she tried to push out the words. They were too much- the weight heavy in her gut. She didn’t need this. God, she didn’t need this. “But then you were there- asking for a walk home.” She took a deep breath and held it- kept holding it. “So you did. Stop me. You stopped me, Lizzie.”

Then he was gone and she was sat trying to figure out what the fuck to do with all these feelings he’d left her with.