#i still have a very visible scar on the ankle from being stung by a wasp almost 2 years ago?????

[hearth-of-olympus]

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[whimperwoods]

The Goblin and the Giant

Ok so I saw this post by @pleasancies and holy cow?? I love it?? So here, have the biggest whumpee and the tiniest caretaker (she said and then immediately whumped them the other way around a little bit, but like... just wait for it, it’s there):

Venk’s entire body was on edge, thrumming with adrenaline. This was the worst part of being a scout, or maybe the best. Whatever was crashing around out here in the woods was big, and for a while earlier, at least, it had been getting closer to camp. He needed to get to it, get information, and get back in time for everyone to get ready, or to run.

He darted between trees, staying in the shadows where the moonlight didn’t reach, light and silent on his feet, and with a firm grip on his spear that only mostly made him feel safer.

When he saw the thing, it took him a minute to work out what it was.

It was a foot, on the end of a leg, attached to a hip, and then to a body he could barely see, it was so high up. The foot, wrapped in an enormous roll of cloth, swung through the air and then landed on its tiptoes. It was a giant. And it was sneaking.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

For about a minute and a half, he scrambled alongside the giant’s slow, careful steps that crunched branches underfoot and nearly shook the ground, realizing as he did so that the giant was moving parallel to the camp, keeping a distance instead of coming closer.

Then, Venk got distracted, too absorbed in watching the enormous feet swinging overhead to spot the wasp’s nest in the ground until his own foot was in it.

He yelped at the first stings, too surprised to keep it in, and the giant seemed startled, too, the feet leaping backward away from the noise and coming down hard enough to shake the ground and make the wasps even angrier.

Venk pulled his foot out of the nest and scrambled instinctively up a large rock nearby to get away, cursing vociferously when the wasps flew up with him, continuing to sting.

An enormous hand reached down and grabbed Venk by the back of his ratty leather armor, lifting him up toward the giant’s face.

“Oh no,” the giant boomed, clearly trying to whisper to him.

Venk was still being stung, but that was suddenly much less important. He growled, baring his teeth, and brandished his spear in the direction of the face. “Put me down! Put me down, or I’ll put your eye out!”

“Oh! Ouch! There’s uhhh - there’s stingy things down there. Let me - uh - uh - over here.”

The giant held him at arm’s reach, took several long, hurried strides toward a nearby clearing, definitely shaking the ground this time, and set Venk back down on top of another large rock, about 400 feet from where they’d started.

Venk brandished his spear again and was surprised to see the giant shrinking away from him, one arm up in front of his face as if to protect himself from something.

Venk turned quickly to look behind himself, but saw no one. He looked back at the giant, raising his spear higher again. “Stay back!” he ordered, “What are you doing here?”

The giant had grey, stony skin, and was both thinner and narrower than most giants Venk had seen before - though, he supposed, he’d only ever seen the other ones at a distance, so perhaps he just didn’t know how to judge.

“Please don’t hurt me!” the giant said, “The master says I have to get into those ruins over there,” his huge hand pointed in the direction of Venk’s camp, and the ruins behind it they were supposed to explore in the morning. “He sent me to bring something back for him, but then I saw your camp, and I - I promise I was trying to go around!”

“What kind of something?” Venk asked, curious in spite of himself.

“It’s, um - it’s some kind of sphere, I think. It’s very magic. He said I’d know it because it was very magic and if I wanted to be sure not to disappoint him, I could just bring everything that seems magic. I - I don’t mean to - to - it’s -”

The giant’s voice started faltering, and his shoulders shrunk inward, his enormous arms coming up around his middle as he hugged himself, wilting visibly in front of Venk’s eyes.

The goblin glanced back over his shoulder one more time, verifying that it was really just the two of them, and then sighed, lowering his spear.

As frightened as the giant seemed to be of him, there was no way he could do any real damage. Not when he knew he was knee-high to the giant at best, with a spear the giant could have perhaps held as a pencil, but not as a spear.

“Can you come down here so I can talk to you?” he asked, putting the spear down and raising his empty hands. “I promise not to stab your eyes out. Just don’t grab me again.”

“Oh!” The giant’s eyes widened, and then it was falling to its knees next to his rock, so fast that the stone underneath Venk shook a little.

Even on his knees, the giant loomed over Venk and his two-foot rock, but he seemed to realize it pretty quickly and fell backward onto his butt with another shuddering crash. Then he pulled in on himself again, as if he were trying to be as small as possible, which didn’t actually do much to put him at Venk’s height, but did make Venk feel a confused tangle of emotions.

Now that he was closer to the giant’s head, he could see a huge, nasty-looking collar around his neck, black leather studded through with small metal lightning bolt shapes. Above and below the collar radiated several overlapping sets of electrical scars, like the giant had been struck by lightning a dozen times. He winced sympathetically.

“Alright,” Venk said, trying not to squander the giant’s apparent intimidation before he figured out he could probably crush Venk between his palms in a single motion. “It seems like maybe this is a time when we ought to just make a deal. That sound good?”

“I - I don’t think I can. I have to give the master what he wants.” The giant was - shaking? He pulled even farther in on himself, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Venk couldn’t see the collar anymore, but he could see scars crisscrossing the giant’s shins.

“Why?” Venk asked, “What kind of master have you got, that you’re that scared?”

The giant shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t, if he found out I told his name -” he looked half-panicked, his breathing getting quicker, “I can’t!”

Venk held his hands up in front of him, trying to calm the giant down. “Whoa! Hey, no. No names. You don’t tell me your master’s name, I won’t tell you my clan’s name, everybody’s happy. I’m guessing he’s some kind of mage or demon or devil or something, if he wants his name safe?”

The giant nodded, but didn’t indicate which one.

“What’s he want the orb for, anyway?”

The giant shrugged one huge shoulder.

“See, that’s gonna be kind of a problem. My clan’s got this whole thing with the orb. We’re camped there to go find it, ‘cause we’ve got this whole underground war going with a bunch of kobolds and it’s supposed to get us a dragon on our side or something, and even if I was going to let you go around past our camp, which I’m not sure the others would be thrilled about, I get the feeling our shaman’s gonna say we’ve gotta kill you before we let you take the orb.”

Venk adjusted his stance as he was talking, ready to leap backward off the rock and away from a blow if he needed to, but instead the giant wailed.

“Whoa, hey!” Venk said, patting at the air between them as if it would help, “Hey, calm down, you’ve gotta be quiet, there’s worse around here than wasps.”

The giant was weeping, and that was - huh. That was something else, too.

“I d-don’t wanna die!” he blubbered.

Venk took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he spoke again. “Hey, buddy, it’s alright. I didn’t say we would kill you, just that I figure that’s what the shaman would say. Maybe we take the orb, we do whatever magical mumbo-jumbo gets us a dragon long enough for it to tell those kobolds to fuck off and give us our caves back, and then we let you have it. I’m just saying we gotta be clever about it, is all.”

The giant shook his head fiercely. “No, my master will know. My master will know I wasted time. I shouldn’t even have gone around I - I don’t want to kill anyone, but I have to make it back, I -” he reached up around his neck, wrapping his hand over the collar, “I have to make it back with what he wants, I - I have to please him.”

Venk felt a stab of something through his heart and sighed again, sliding carefully off the rock and landing on his less swollen foot. He was an idiot, and he was about to die for it, but at least none of the rest of the clan was around to see it. They’d probably assume he’d done something heroic when they found the pulpy mess of his body out here. Probably.

He stepped up to the giant’s side and patted his huge ankle. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s alright, I don’t want you to kill anyone, either. You gotta calm down. We can figure this out.”

We can figure this out. As if he even knew what “this” was. The giant’s sobs grew a little softer, though. Venk patted his ankle again. “There, there.”

“I shouldn’t have talked to you,” the giant said miserably, starting to pull himself together, “Master always says it’s my own fault things are so awful and upsetting, ‘cause I don’t kill people fast enough. And now I’ll be sad even if I do kill you fast enough, which I don’t even want to do.”

Venk looked up at the huge figure. This close, he could tell that the scars along the giant’s shins were burn scars, like he’d been standing in fire. The lightning scars on his chest and face weren’t really visible at this angle, but there were a couple of small but deep bruises dotting his ribs, black against the stony grey of the rest of the his skin.

“Ok, buddy,” he said, making a decision even as he spoke. “Let’s take a step back. Let’s take a step back from the orb. What’s up with you and that master? He got anything on you, or is it just that collar up there?”

The giant shook his head and said nothing.

“I won’t tell. Not a soul. Just between you and me. I just need to know what I’m dealing with here. Gotta get all the options on the table, you know? And then once we’ve looked at the table, it’s all between you and me still, alright?”

“It - it’s mostly the collar,” the giant said, voice so faint it actually came across as a whisper this time.

“Well, then we’ll get it off you, and then you don’t have to kill anybody. How’s that sound?”

The giant shook his head again, vehemently, wrapping his hands around the collar again. “No! It’s locked. It’s locked, and it’s got traps! It’ll shock me and it’ll shock you, and then he’ll know, and then -” Venk could hear the giant starting to cry again, “And then he’ll know!”

Venk breathed deeply again, trying to center himself. “Ok. Ok. That’s - good to have on the table. You’re gonna be ok, buddy.” He patted the giant’s ankle again.

As the giant continued to sniffle and snort and try to get ahold of himself, Venk breathed deeply and tried to think. How serious was he? How dumb was this? He bit his lip and kept patting the giant’s ankle, weighing the dangers to himself, the giant, and the clan.

Finally, he stepped forward and leapt up to tug at the giant’s sleeve. “Hey, buddy. One more idea, ok? One more idea. We’re gonna take another step back. I’ve got this amulet,” he lifted it out from under the collar of his armor, “And it dispells one spell a day. Only the best of our scouts have ‘em, so you’re lucky it was me that found you, but they’re made to get us out of a tricky spot. If I turn the spell off and pick the lock myself, are you gonna get hurt? Or just me?”

“But what if he finds out?” the quiet hiss was still louder than a whisper, but Venk appreciated the attempt.

“Then you tell him I did it. You tell him a tree fell on you and I came across you before you could get out from under and I thought maybe if I took off that collar I could be your master, only then it zapped me and I died and you’re still a good boy following directions, or whatever.”

“What if it does kill you?”

“Then you tell my clan to get back underground before your master gets here, and you go on forward to the ruins like you were going to anyway. I’ll write a note for them.”

The giant shook his head. “I can’t escape.”

Venk looked around and, finding no body part particularly convenient for grabbing, leapt up to tug at the giant’s sleeve again. “Give me your hand.”

The hand that came to rest on the ground beside him was too big to hold, but he wrapped his hands seriously around the giant’s thumb, trying not to think too much about babies and their hands, just now. “I promise, I can do this. And if I can’t, you weren’t gonna get away before, either. But if I can, then you can get away when you couldn’t before. That’s worth a try, right?”

The giant bit his lip, but didn’t immediately say no.

“What’s your name, friend?” Venk asked, “Mine’s Venk. I can promise you by name, if you want.”

This time, the giant’s eyes widened. “F-Falgh, Sir.”

Sir. Huh. “Falgh, I promise, if you let me try to take that collar off, I’ll be as careful as I can and I’ll give you the best shot I know how to give. Ok?”

Falgh closed his eyes, but then nodded, once, quickly.

Venk took a deep breath and nodded back. “Alright. Let’s try it. Bend forward so I can stand on the top of your back and get at that latch.”

Clambering up a living being was an odd feeling, even one that was lying on its stomach, but Falgh helped, clearly trying to flatten his back as much as he could under Venk’s feet.

The amulet flashed with a soft light and a pleasant heat, and then Venk set to work with a set of thieves tools, wishing he had more practice on things that weren’t manacles.

Then the lock clicked audibly, and both their bodies tensed immediately, but nothing happened.

“There we go,” Venk whispered, “I think I’ve got it. Let me try to open it.” The mechanism that closed the collar was more clamp than buckle, clearly designed for medium-sized hands, which sent a little half-shiver through Venk’s spine to think about. Falgh wasn’t medium-sized, either.

He held his breath as he pried open the clasp, and then - the collar fell free.

He almost fell over as Falgh let out a great, heaving sigh of relief, tension draining from his muscles. “Whoa!”

The giant froze again. “Sorry.”

Venk bent down and patted the giant’s back, beside where he was standing, “It’s ok, bud. I get it.” He wasn’t sure he did, but it seemed like the thing to say.

Falgh nodded, seriously, which also jarred Venk a little bit, and he hurried to scramble back off the giant’s back.

As he settled back onto the ground by the giant’s face, Falgh looked at him with big, soft grey eyes, and whispered, “Are you my master now? Or was that just for pretend, if it didn’t work?”

One answer to that question was clearly more interesting than the other, but he knew he could never give it, even as it crossed his mind.

He placed a small hand on Falgh’s huge cheek. “It was just for pretend, Falgh. I don’t mind if you come with me, though. I’m sure you’d be a great help in the ruins. Or you can go somewhere and hide. I’d understand that, too.”

Falgh’s eyes were dark, serious as they gazed into his own. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? I’m -” his eyes darted away, “I’m not convenient. Or sneaky. Or very good at things”

Venk raised an eyebrow. “Think you’d be good at carrying me back to camp? My one foot’s pretty bad. Dunno how much you feel wasp stings, but I feel ‘em kind of a lot, just now.”

Falgh’s eyes widened, darting back to Venk’s face. “Oh! Yeah, I can do that! If you want.” He bit his lip. “Will the - will the shaman still want to kill me?”

Venk smiled, patting Falgh’s cheek again. “Not if you’re with me, buddy. Not if you’re with me.”

[yanderenightmare]

YANDERE ! BAKUGO KATSUKI x FEM ! READER

goodiebag WARNINGS: ableism, abuse, anxiety, blood, drugs, narcissism, slavery, torture, trauma, noncon/dubcon, yandere

PART ONE

SAFETY - part two

INDISPUTABLY MINE

She didn’t know how long she’d been out for. The remnants of a suppressed panic festering in her chest, simmering like charcoaled embers in her heart, still partially subdued due to the drugs still swimming about in her system, however ready to catch flame any second.

The sun was only slightly farther down the sky now as it was before. Whether that was an indication of how little time had gone or how much, she didn’t know. His teeth marks were ever present on her neck and chest the more consciousness she gained. Even though she had no way of seeing them. She felt them. Not only because they stung, but because they made her feel dirty, and weak, and fragile, and owned.

The more she squirmed the more she recognized other nips and pecks littered across her body, trailing down lower than just her chest. A sudden dreadful realization ran through her, the feeling cold and burning beneath her skin. Her clothes no longer adorned her body, and seemed foreign and unsalvageable in their singed state, where they were carelessly scattered on the floor next to her. What had replaced them was glistening drool that felt stiff but still wet, coating around the blossoming bruises he’d left in his wake.

“You look perfect like that.” The unmistakable tone seemed so strange and eerie and dangerous and gut-wrenching now. Making the thin hairs on her arms rise in cold-dreaded fear, as she met that crooked grin. Those vivid blood-irises and pupils alike blackholes, sucking her in and keeping her there with a death-grip. The other half of a hero she respected, looked up to even, despite his brash nature. “With my mark all over you.” She didn’t see a hint of that hero in the man before her. “Indisputably mine.” A villain had taken his place. A villain who ran his tongue over his lips, inspecting his victim.

In her increasing fear she nearly passed out again upon seeing him in the similar condition she was in. Bruises, or… rather deep unforgiving scars, some still healing, marring his sand-colored skin. Intimidating evidence that he’d survived far worse than she could ever imagine, ever even hope to have lived through. But, the state of his skin was only a mild concern that wavered over her, not exactly what caused the tremors ruining her. The fact that there was so much skin, too much skin without any coverage. He was nude, and proud; confident despite her obvious dread. Licking his lips like some beast. Admiring her from the threshold of the door. She would have felt disgusted if it weren’t for the thundering terror that rendered her sick worthless, as she was being looked up and down by the predatory heat found in his eyes. She still felt the nausea brew inside her, drawing her legs closer, not daring to look away as his large hand lazily rubbed up and down on his intimidating cock. His lingering gaze viewing her as though she was something already owned, already his, a resolution to prove it also evident among the drowning of crimson.

The cuff around her ankle suddenly felt that much heavier now as she was aware of its presence. How it would keep her from running. How it would keep her trapped, in his bed, naked, with him, just as naked, however infinitely less vulnerable.

She felt the spit bile up in her throat, eyes stinging. When he pushed himself off the wall and took a step further, she was soon spluttering out sobs that seemed to wreak though her with determination. His free hand stroking up her thigh with ease. She tried kicking, but her feeble struggles were nothing short of pitiful as he placed himself between her knees. The sinking of the bed mirroring seasickness, as she felt the overwhelming urge to throw up.

It was all so very consuming, the way her stomach seemed to fold in all those special types of fear people often go their entire lives without ever having met. Her guts turning, churning, winding like snakes inside her. Hiccupping, choking on her cries uncontrollably as his calloused hands once again found her waist, only now she didn’t have any fabric to separate them from her delicate skin. The thought that he’d touched and groped and played with her while she was drowsed out crept into her thoughts and shook her beyond what she could handle.

It was violent, Katsuki thought, looking down at the fragile creature beneath him. Beautiful. It was a prideful glee more than a sadistic one. It fueled him to think she was entirely at his mercy. To think she could do nothing to stop him, utterly defenseless, yet so very… beautiful. Why do Gods fall in love with such weak things? He pondered, while examining the contrast between his hand and hers, seeming massive and deadly against the elegance of her small one. She was something so untouched, so very soft, especially under the callous soles of his fingers. Naïve. Sweet. Cute. So very adorable. So small and weak and made for him. It was endearing, the way she didn’t even have the wits with her to protest or to beg or bargain. She barely even struggled, the strength of her cries too vehement for her to focus on anything else. She quaked instead, each sob more frantic than the one before, staggering through her body. Bound to tire herself out. Katsuki amused himself with the thought while containing her wrists easily in one hand pinned above her head, although it seemed exaggerated; unnecessary. He wasn’t really sure if he would at all feel it if she tried to pry her hands out of his grip. Touching her lovingly with the other hand, stroking down her chest, liking how her tits bounced with each of her heavy, earthshattering cries. He didn’t feel ashamed for his growing arousal. He was a God. It was in his right to do as he pleased. To reap his offerings.

His tip teased her entrance, precum smeared over the lips of her pussy. Not serving as enough wetness for him to push through, but his strength couldn’t be quarreled by the weak barrier. However, he was in no hasty mood. He was going to enjoy himself, thoroughly.

She’d wrenched her eyes shut, but as his fingers started ghosting tickles over her folds, sliding the tips through them every so often, she made to look down in horror. Her sobs had subsided enough, though she was far from being calm or collected, still consistently quivering. Her cheeks stained with raw, red wetness. Eyes spiraling from looking up at him to his teasing fingers as she tried twisted her thighs closed, but he kept her perfectly spread with his knees propped up under her. Eyes so bright and glossy, flecked with red; bloaty, just like her lips. With fingers still delving between the lips of her pussy, he licked up her cheek, swiping up at the salty, tender flesh. His tongue; boiling against the sensitive skin, before his teeth made to tug at her puffy lips, grinding the soft, plump chunk between them. The whimpers that followed sounded wet. Wet and mushy and delicious for his ears to receive. He deepened the kiss, growling as a threat for her to oblige him, something which she did when she felt the burning threat his hands provided against her delicate wrists. Hesitant kisses met with his brutal, overpowering ones. His tongue fighting against any resistance left in her mouth, only to be met with pitiful and delectable sniveling. “That’s right…” The words poured into her mouth. “Just obey.” She didn’t dare refrain.

He wanted to test that timidity, breaking apart from his assault on her mouth to plunge his fingers as far down her throat as they could reach. Smirking an open-wide grin as she choked, coughing spit all over his digits. Giving her no time to breathe before his mouth was back on hers. His fingers dipping playfully into her folds again and again before he decided to test out her tightness. One finger entered and he felt her jolt against him, sobbing a moan against his lips.

“You like that, don’t you?” She twisted unenthusiastically, whining while crying, trying desperately to wiggle away from him burying his finger knuckle-deep inside her. “You like my finger inside you?” He didn’t really expect an answer as he started pumping in and out. “I know you do.” He decided to reward her by stretching her pussy out with yet another digit inside her. She cried out this time, visible pain in her sewn-together brows. He only laughed while curling and scissoring his finger into the warm, spongy walls inside her, drawing out wetness and more woeful moans and gasps and whimpers.

Not wanting to disrupt those mouthwatering sounds escaping her lips, he made to bite and kiss at her neck instead. Her hands growing numb above her at how hard he was gripping her wrists. She wondered for a moment why he hadn’t tied them up instead, but found the unsettling result that he must draw an inane amount of pleasure by being the sole reason she was left so utterly defenseless. Tying her up would keep him from that satisfaction.

“You’re not paying attention.” He growled when the strained whimpers died down and grew more controlled than he’d like them.

Her musings were cut short as he added yet another finger. At this she shrieked. “Please…” She begged, whimpering and mewling. He felt the sounds reverberate beneath her skin, torrenting on his tongue and lips on her neck. He growled a groan into her ear, before it broke out into a low, patronizing chuckle.

“Believe it or not, I’m doing you a favor…” She was too distracted to feel the smirk up against her throat, or to detect the smugness in his tone. Wincing and gasping at how all three of his big fingers stretched out the ring of muscle inside her. The aching tender flesh sending sharp shoots of pain to rocket through her abdomen. “How on earth are you gonna survive me, huh? If you can’t take three fingers inside you, I wonder how loud you’ll howl when you take my entire cock.” She began sobbing again, crying through her moans. “Poor little baby…” He kissed down her breasts, sucking and biting at the nimble flesh. Taking her nipple into his mouth and pulling at it with his teeth. “Let me kiss it all better.” There was a growl present in the sentiment, and it shook her to the very core.

His hand let go of her wrists as his fingers quit their unrelenting pumping in and out of her, to assist in holding her spread open for him when he moved down to lick between her folds. She pushed at his head with her newly freed hands, but the struggle was short-lived when he grabbed each wrist in a new deadlock in each of his fists, as he propped her up under his arms. She made a series of protests and pleas. Begging, pleading for him to stop, but he simply replied by teasingly dragging his tongue agonizingly slow up between her slick folds, only to flick off at her clit. The act earning him a shaky moan which his ears fluttered upon hearing.

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it. Your hero’s gonna take good care of you.” He twirled his tongue around the sensitive pearl, before flattening it on top, closing his lips around and sucking the skin into his mouth.

Her knees started shaking, weakening, submitting. He smirked up against her, swiping his tongue up and down in a quick pace, before moving back to her clit and flicking from side to side. And, despite her arms continuing to struggle, her lower half was melting beneath him; surrendering. He knew exactly what strings to pull to make her back arch upward and for the moans to come spluttering past her lips. Relentless in his conquest too. Lapping, biting, sucking, growling at the tenderness found at his mouth for him to devour, for him to conquer, for him to storm into surrender. And, just as she felt the guilty knot brimming inside her, he pulled away with a mellow kiss, a stark contrast to the earlier ravaging. Inching back up to place his throbbing cock at her drooling pussy. Planting his hand on her chest, just between her lungs, her useless fists weakly banging at his arm as he steadied himself. His other hand gripping his cock to better place it against her.

Her eyes wild and frantic as they looked up at him, shaking her head hysterically. “Katsuki, please-” Was enough for him to push inside her, all in one quick thrust, feeling her tight walls pulsate against him. He intended to go in slowly, but she was sending him over the edge with all her begging. To both their surprise the sound that escaped her sounded oddly pleasurable and not as though she was being defiled. Something in between the mix of a gasp and a moan, only barely a wince embedded into the wet noise.

His whole length inside her, feeling the warmth of the snug fit wrapped around him. She felt as though she could feel him up in her throat, as she choked. Her head spiraling, ascending.

His mouth hung upon, eyes closed in euphoria. “Fuck-” He pulled out slowly, letting her feel every muscle, every ridge, every vein of him inside her. Almost all the way out, he snapped forward again and this time she made a moan so pure, so sweet, so ambrosial. Again, he pulled back slowly as his hand dove to push down into the plush flesh of her breasts and started tweaking at her nipple roughly, pinching, her hands lazily holding onto his arm. She moaned so beautifully for him when he started lolling his hips into her, letting her get used to his size before increasing his tempo. “You take me so fucking well…” It was so far from ashamed, the way he groaned and moaned at her tightness enveloping him. As though made for him.

As it seemed her arms were rendered useless in the unwanted state of bliss she found herself lost in, he took the opportunity to grab under her knees and push them flat against the bed. This way, he could better slot his head in the crook of her neck as he started thrusting, rolling his hips into her harder and faster for each time he bottomed out inside her. His heavy balls slapping against her ass served as yet another lewd noise that filled the room, echoing off the deliberately barren walls. His ears perked up and perched right next to her mouth, all her little sounds so sheer for him to drool over.

She was again shocked by his painful thrusts back to reality, bringing her hands with her to push at his shoulder to get off. But, the tempo of which he now had adopted rocked her so violently, his weight unmoving on top of her. Her weak protests only aiding his determination to fill her up with his length. Her wiggles as well were constrained by his hands holding her thighs in place and only resulted in upping the friction and movement received by his cock pumping in and out of her. Her hands were her only means of weapons, as she made to scratch up his back in a feral attempt to make him stop, but he rather enjoyed that type of pain above what he would usually face in battle, it seemed in a strange way a type of affection he lusted for, especially when accompanied with her tight pussy clenching around his shaft, in what he thought of was needy and clingy and loving in all the right ways. “Pretty kitty has claws now, does she?” He chuckled, the labored breaths and grunts fanning over her chest, causing goosebumps to spread like wildfire on her skin. “Well… this wolf’s got fangs.” His bite sunk into her throat, on top yet slightly ajar from the previous bite he’d gifted her with. She wailed, quitting her terrorizing on his back, digging her nails into her own palms instead.

“Katsuki…” She moaned and he moaned in return at the sound of his name drip so sweetly off her tongue, removing the pressure his teeth had around her neck. “Please…” He licked up her throat, sucking up the taste of metal he’d made surface, biting at her earlobe when he reached it.

“Are those the only words you know?” He snickered in her ear. His weight nearly suffocating her, his thrusts so deep and so fast and so hard and so very crucial. “Have I melted your brain that much already, huh?” Groaning and moaning and grunting savagely into her neck. “That’s right… those are the only words you need to know. That, and telling me how much you love me, how much you adore me, how much you love being mine, how much you love my cock, how much you love it when I fuck you into oblivion…” He continued rambling, each word barked out as he pushed his twitching cock inside her welcoming warmth and comfort, her pussy pressing around him in a tight embrace.

“Please, Katsuki…” She said again, her voice a mix of a whisper, a whimper and a moan. “Go slower… please.” Her begging was so sweet, but he couldn’t possibly relent now, not when she clung to him like this, his body melting into her, her thighs sticking to him in sweat and juices, he needed this, she needed him, he wasn’t going to stop.

“Beg me some more.” It was low and guttural whisper, more of a prayer than a command. He couldn’t help it, not when she was clenching so tightly around him, sucking him in. Not when she was so wet, dripping, drooling, around his cock, just for him. She did as he said, begging with his name spilling from her lips. He responded by hoisting her one leg over his shoulder to free his hand, moving it down to her clit, thumb rubbing rough circles upon the highly sensitive spot. She gasped and moaned, clinging to him harder, saying his name again and again until he really couldn’t hold back any longer. Thrusting quicker and harder, building up into one last time with one loud and heavy moan, hitting even deeper inside her, emptying his balls into her quivering pussy as he nuzzled soundly in her neck. Heavy panting against sweat-slicked skin.

His drool coating her and running down her chest, relaxing to feel every bit of his orgasm, savoring it. He made a couple more, slow and careful pumps into her, feeling his cum drip down his shaft at each movement. She uttered something about how he was a monster, but he chose to ignore it in his bliss, keeping on rubbing those quick patterns over her clit, feeling as she wiggled under him.

Taking ahold of her throat, as he kissed down her chest once again, licking up the taste of her sweat. “Beg me.” His words were muffled into her skin. “You want me to make you cum?” The condescending tone was unbearable as his thumb slowed its friction against her clit, his cock still biting at the sweet spot inside her.

Nipping at her nipples, tightening around her neck when she tried to wrench his head off her. “Yes… please, Katsuki.” She clawed at his hand around her throat, but it only resulted in him tightening his hold. “Please, please, make me cum, Katsuki.” His grip relented, content with what he had reduced her to. Keeping his cock inside her, his thumb racing over her clit again and again until she came all over him, her back arching into him in the softest from of gratitude.

She whimpered, obviously disgusted with herself, while the both of them panted their hot breaths onto each other’s skin. “So… fucking perfect.” He continued circling her clit with his thumb, despite her growing panicked restlessness beneath him. “Just for me.” Moving both hands to wrap around her neck, he growled at her to kiss him back. She complied with a whimper, trying her best to compensate his hungry kisses. “Tell me you love me.” He pressed on her neck, as she started crying again. Her orgasm still crippling and waving through her, she didn’t even want to look at him.

When she didn’t answer, he decided to pressure her neck even more. Sniffling and choking, feeling the soreness sting in her throat both from his iron-grip and from all the sobbing and screaming she’d committed since Katsuki decided she belonged to him. She managed to force the words out with a strangled struggle. “I, I… I love you…” He stopped his tight hold, biting her lip. Her legs still held up with him placed between her thighs. Skin to skin.

“Say my name.” He commanded softly, resting his forehead against hers, enjoying the slippery of sweat between them.

“I love you, Katsuki.” Her large, shimmering eyes stared into his crimson ones, the scent of caramel more overwhelming than ever. He finally pulled his cock out and praised her as he climbed off. Settling in beside her instead, pulling her body into him, chin resting atop her head. She heard him say it back, feeling his cum seep slowly out of her, knowing that she should be expecting the same thing tomorrow.

She cried, too scared to sleep as she felt the unrelenting, low growling from the monster behind her.

PART ONE

[finsterhund]

I finally managed to finish this after working on and off on it for several months. It's probably the most complicated thing I've ever made. I also wrote a little story to go along with it. :3

Andy strained with effort as he tried to dislodge the large boulders that blocked his path. With one solid shove he thought he felt the larger rock he stood on shift, but was too preoccupied trying to push the rock in front of him to notice. After another dedicated shove the boy finally dislodged the boulder, destabilizing the entire pile he stood atop in the process. Losing his footing as the rocks began crashing down, Andy toppled forwards but saved himself by tucking into a roll, springboarding fluidly off of the ground with both feet as he tumbled into it, but in the process he careened himself over the rocky ledge he had been previously standing atop. Andy's momentum kept him moving forward even as he dropped down a perilous rock slope. He didn't have time to study the strange formation, but Andy was on some sort of naturally occurring chute made out of stone, perhaps huen by years of heavy rainfall. Andy managed to land hard on his rear but having built up too much momentum his efforts to slow his decent by slamming his feet in front of him was ineffective and he careened down the rock slide. He cried out in fear and pain as the uneven surface of his rocky descent caused him to be buffeted up and down, his stomach dropping out from under him as he went up, and his tailbone hitting the rock hard as he came back down. Andy's distressed cries shook and stuttered as he was buffeted along, skidding painfully despite every effort to slow his fall. Panic escalated as Andy saw with horror that the painful slide he had unwittingly chosen to ride was very quickly running out of track.

"W-wooaaaaaaaahh!!??" Andy howled as he was flung wildly off of the rock slope and tumbled into a dizzying freefall. His vision was spinning as he hurtled frighteningly fast towards the canopy of vine-covered trees and the swampy ground below. Andy was buffeted by leaves and vines, serving more to further knock the wind out of him than to slow his descent, and the battered boy was pummeled into stunned unresponsiveness as with a sharp snapping tug a vine became entangled around his left ankle, immediately ceasing his descent as if attached to a bungee cord. Andy was just barely able to grab hold of his hat to stop it from being ripped away with the force and he held it tightly to his head, disoriented and breathless. Thundering around him, the rocks he had dislodged splashed loudly into the deep murky swamp water that pooled just below, splashing up and soaking the boy's face with rank stationary water.

Andy now hung upside down with one badly twisted leg dangling from thick stretchy vines. Everything hurt, but the pain was most centralized in his lower spine and ankle. Despite the natural padding his muscles provided, his bumpy descent left him horribly pulverized, and the feeling of whatever the vine had done to his ankle combined with his full body weight bearing down on it made balls of white-hot pain flash behind his eyes. With a weak sob, Andy tried to regain his senses, first feeling the arid breeze hitting his exposed stomach, hanging upside down allowing his shirt to roll downwards aided by gravity, accompanied by the repeated groaning creak as the vine he found himself entangled in swung gently back and forth when carried by the breeze. Andy shut his eyes and let his arms hang limp, trying to acclimatize himself to his predicament and slow his ragged breathing and thundering heartbeat.

But something else was not about to let Andy rest just yet. From the murky swamp water, Andy heard and felt a massive shudder, the water rippling and churning as from deep below there came the stirring of something very big. Enticed by the falling rocks that had sunk deep to the bottom of the stagnant water, a groggy slumbering creature had decided to come up to the surface of the swamp for what must have been the first time in several weeks. To Andy's horror, he felt the draft and heard the sound of something very large breach the surface behind him, out of sight, before it slid back down below the ripples. The boy twisted and turned, trying to look to where he heard and felt the water disturbed, still disoriented and dizzy from hanging upside down.

Then, with dread, Andy looked on as a strange textured mass of unidentifiable alien creature broke from below the surface a second time, except now it was visible… and closer. The creature had smooth mottled grey skin with darker grey patches marking it. Like spots. Its skin looked smooth but with the occasional bump and ridge that would indicate muscles or joints that Andy's lack of insight into the creatures of this world made him unable to identify. Panic set in, and Andy looked around desperately for anything he could use to escape. Sticking out of the mud was a long sturdy branch about as thick around as his wrist. The boy twisted at the waist to try and swing himself towards it

And his fingers missed by a wide margin.

Feeling himself swinging back away from the branch Andy made the effort to swing around in the opposite direction so as to hopefully build up enough momentum to reach the branch by swinging towards it a second time. Squirming in the air, Andy felt himself moving further back, and angled himself to swing as far away from the branch as possible.

From below the water's surface, a set of more than two eyes peered up at the trees through foggy lenses. The giant worm-like monster could not blink away the grime and algae that clung to the multiple ocular receptors that were set back behind its beak-like mouthparts so with vision poor, made poorer by the water, the creature could not easily tell for certain what had caused the many heavy stones to fall from the sky, but it had gone without a meal for quite some time. This creature had lived for far longer than circumstances would suggest that it should have, and it had the scars of incendiary wounds along its tail end to prove it. Ever since the shadows that brought with them fire and pain had come this far into the swamps it had struggled to find decent prey. It fed upon the spectres that flew above the water wherever it could, but they frequently came in packs, and the scorching that the creature's soft skin endured when one tried to avenge its swallowed brethren still stung, if not as horrifically as the blows their ruler dealt. The swamp creature held itself still beneath the waters surface, having already disrupted the stillness enough to potentially alert any prey of its existence, and waited for any sign of movement to determine what, if anything, was nearby.

The blue and brown of Andy's shirt and shorts blended in well with the surrounding trees, water, and sky, which would have proved to be effective camouflage if not for the bright unmistakable red of his neckerchief that vibrantly stuck out against the greens and browns of the humid vegetation. Andy had been swinging wildly from left to right, trying to grab hold of something out of the swamp creature's field of vision, but the flash of red around his neck certainly made him visible. As the swamp creature became aware of Andy more details of this little squirming creature became available. The swamp monster could see his arms and legs, pasty and pale when compared to the spectres that had invaded its home. This struggling prey brought back memories of the flying beings that the swamp monster had resigned itself to never seeing again. Something not made of emaciated bones and slimy shadow. Something warm, fresh…

And alive.

The sight of Andy thrashing about on the end of a vine was tantalizing to the swamp creature. Irresistible, like a worm on a string. It began to salivate as it moved to breach the surface right below Andy, preemptively opening its maw before it even broke the surface of the water.

Its lower jaw consisted of two large beak-like parts, and its upper jaw, three. When closed they aligned evenly but as the mouth slowly parted they widened, first breaking the water's surface as five individual points that slowly extended further and further upwards. As it opened its maw wider and wider water began to drain from between the five extended points as it purposefully, swiftly, lifted itself out of the swamp.

Andy was moving back to try and gain momentum when he first saw the unrecognizable creature slowly rising out of the water below him and he began to panic, bucking his hips and swinging his arms as he desperately tried to gain the momentum he needed. Andy swung far away from the branch and then with a groaning creak of the vine spun back around again. The boy reached with outstretched arms toward the branch, begging, pleading to grasp ahold of it. He extended his fingers as far as they would go…

[ahomeganeyatsu]

Ran Off in the Night (Part 12)

“Lucas?”

His fingers tightened its grasp on Eliott’s hood. Lucas buried his face further into the shadowhunter’s chest, trying to breathe. He took in the smell of sweat, blood, a bit of that demon ick, vomit and forced his heart into a reasonable pace.

“Lucas, we’re here,” Eliott said and although Lucas was reluctant to let go, fearing that the lack of rushing wind was just his imagination and the shadowhunter had been lying about being here, he still did. A blue eye peeked out to glare balefully at the teen who was looking down at him.

“You’re an absolute prick, you know that?” Lucas grumbled. The shadowhunter’s stare didn’t stray from his face. Heat began to creep up his neck and settled on his cheeks. A sudden awkwardness took over him. “You—” he cleared his throat and patted the shadowhunter’s shoulder, “You can put me down now.”

“Huh?” Eliott blinked away the glazed look in his eyes, “Oh! Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that.” Lucas watched him worriedly as he sets him down on the ground. From where his hand brushed the guy’s neck, Eliott’s skin felt clammy. Lucas also noticed how he was more panting than breathing, his efforts to hide it inefficient. “Let’s go, in.”

Lucas followed Eliott as he led the way. He placed himself behind the taller male, ready to catch him if he ever faltered in his step. He didn’t even bother with the likely possibility that he might not even be able to hold the guy’s weight. The bell tinkled as they went inside the shop and they were greeted by the mixed scents of herbs, old books, and Quell’s potion brewing that wafts down from her lab upstairs into the shop.

He had barely stepped into the room when a sudden gust of wind rushed past him and Lucas lifted his arms to shield his eyes. Something crashed and a pained groan echoing in the shop. The teen dropped his arms and his eyes widened into saucers.

Eliott was pinned to the wall. Wisps of magenta wrapped around the shadowhunter’s neck, dangling him a few inches from the floor. His hands battled hopelessly with the magic as it began to inch closer around his neck. He wasn’t even thrashing. The run here had pretty much sucked out most of his strength.

“Where is he?” Quell’s voice rang in the room, coming everywhere and nowhere. Lucas had never heard her like this before. Power coated her very voice. The room visibly trembled from being subjected to it. Even Lucas felt his legs shake, his knees buckling underneath him. Lucas had been intimately acquainted with fear all his life, and this was one moment in all his existence where he felt his own blood freeze.

“I’m here.” He croaked and Quell’s eyes focused on him. The harsh look on her face melted and Eliott gasped as the hold around his neck loosened a bit. She scanned Lucas for any obvious injuries and when they land on his bloodied hands, she returned her attention on Eliott.

“You better pray to your Angel that Lucas isn’t hurt, because if I find out you had anything to do with it directly, even your precious Clave won’t save you.” Her magic released him and dropped him unceremoniously to the floor, sagging like a bag of potatoes. She strode towards Lucas, dropping on a knee and running her hand over his body. Lucas flinched at her proximity. Quell’s hand faltered in reaching towards him. Regret and shame sparked in her dark eyes. She looked away and swallowed, steeling herself before resuming her previously aborted action. You could barely see the tremor in her hands, but Lucas had seen it with how closely he was watching the warlock.

Guilt squeezed his heart. Quell had told him about the prejudice warlocks faced. How human parents react when they first realize their children bore demon blood. How they bore that first rejection even after centuries on this earth. Quell had never seemed to be bothered, but Lucas was familiar with carefully crafted masks.

He knew he reacted instinctively. It still didn’t make it any easier that he put that look on Quell’s face when she had been nothing but kind to him. This mundane boy who had the gift of the sight.

Lucas held still as Quell’s magic tentatively reached for him. He felt the warmth of it, wrapping around him like a gentle hug, or a snuggly blanket you could just burrow into in the freezing winter. The tension holding his body seeped away slowly and the throbbing in his head subsided.

“He didn’t hurt me,” Lucas finally said as he found his voice. Quell looked at him, surprise evident for a second before it vanishes. Like she hadn’t expected him to speak to her after that display. Protective and frightened display, a thought whispered to him. Made evident as his first concern was the shadowhunter, not himself. They were both injured, except Eliott had suffered more severe wounds than he had. Lucas’ own well-being was secondary to that. Especially, when he was the cause.

He also didn’t want Eliott to get in any more trouble because of his own mistake. He had to clear that up and diminish any ire Quell had for the young shadowhunter. Eliott didn’t deserve it. “But he did get hurt because of me.” Lucas gulped remembering the bleeding gash on Eliott’s abdomen, the scent of burnt flesh. “He—” His hands were shaking again and his eyes stung from the tears he desperately holds back. “He says he has demon poison in him. You have to—” he lifted his eyes, staring imploringly into Quell, “You have to help him. Please.”

Quell’s eyes roamed his face. Maybe he was such a sorry sight, looking pitiful in his rumpled clothes, hair tangled from the wind and hands stained with Eliott’s drying blood, some smudged on his face. Lucas definitely felt like it. Or Quell still felt guilty for frightening him like that. Whatever it was, Lucas was thankful when the warlock eventually let out a sigh and made a banishing gesture with her hand. With a blink, Lucas found them in one of the upper rooms. Eliott was lying flat on a table, chest rising and falling faintly. Quell stood and Lucas scrambled to his feet to follow. He almost tripped on the carpet but caught himself before he hit his head for the second time that night.

Quell stood beside the prone figure of the shadowhunter and snapped her fingers, getting rid of the teen’s shirt and jacket and leaving him half-naked. On any other circumstance, Lucas would have blushed. It was the sight of the pink flesh of the recently healed injury that stopped him. He couldn’t even get himself to think of anything else. The scent of seared flesh forever tattooed in his memories. Quell made a thoughtful noise as she ran her hand coated in magenta magic over Eliott’s body. She frowned as they stilled on certain points—the gash on his abdomen, a cut on his leg, his bruising neck, and his head. She shook her hand and muttered, “You’re not wrong about the demon poison.”

“Is it bad?” Lucas asked. Eliott was losing color and his lids were drooping. He had never been around someone this hurt before. He had no idea what to do. Does he take his hand? Hold it to comfort him? Talk to him? Keep him awake? Do you deal with demon poison the same way? Does an antidote exist? How the hell can Lucas help? Be of use? He can’t just stand there and watch Eliott slowly losing the battle for his consciousness as color leeched out of his skin.

“It would’ve been if you’ve arrived any later. What kind of demon attacked you?”

What do you mean, what kind? There’s more than one?! was what he wanted to say, but Lucas already knew that. The scar on his ankle throbbed and the teen shook off the feeling. “I— He called it a rave-something. It looked like a crocodile and a scorpion’s lovechild or something. It was freaky.”

“Ravener,” Quell supplied. Her forehead creased before turning back to Eliott who lied increasingly still on the table. “Why would those things be here?” the warlock said as an afterthought. It didn’t seem like something she expected to say to Lucas.

Lucas worried at his lips. There wasn’t a single indicator in Quell that she was pleased with that information. Lucas wasn’t new to the Downworld. He had always been able to see it, always had been obvious where those particular beings hung about. But he was barely introduced to the Shadow World, a layer of society that was more than he previously thought, and he was floundering. It had only been a day at most. He’d just learned shadowhunters and demons existed. He didn’t know what raveners were, but they can’t be good if it has Quell looking like she wants to blow things up.

She refocused on the injured shadowhunter. “He’s lost some blood that we’ll have to replenish immediately after I draw out the poison,” she pushed up her sleeves and positioned her hands over a spot where black lines branched out. The skin surrounding the wound was bruising into an alarming color. Lucas can’t even believe he hadn’t noticed that.

“Sh-should I get the blood bags from the fridge?” Quell glanced at him. Lucas fidgeted in his spot. “What? Don’t give me that look. It’s not like I would have missed them when they were right next to the milk!” he said defensively.

“No, you wouldn’t. But those aren’t for mortals,” she explained. Eliott groaned as Quell’s hand moved to pull something out of him slowly.

“What? Are you keeping some weird pet? You know Finn won’t be pleased with that.” Lucas stood there in silent awe as black liquid flowed out from the wound and collected into a sphere floating above Eliott. Quell didn’t even look strained as she did it, save for the few beads of sweat that dotted her forehead. It made the scales on the side of her face glisten as the sweat rolled down on them.

“Hah! If I had another pet, Finn would just make sure he had you all to himself. Greedy little thing that he is.” Quell clicked her tongue in mock disappointment. Finn, seemingly summoned by the mention of his name, stood at the edge of the table and chittered in offense at such unveiled accusation of his greediness. “Oh don’t you even deny it. You’re my familiar and you still prefer mon loulou’s company, you traitor.”

Finn made a high-pitched sound and raised his head in a pompous manner, before turning around and jumping down from the table.

For the first time that night, Lucas felt his lips twitch in amusement.

“Sure, be that way! But before you sulk, get those potions!” Finn yipped annoyed but walked out of the room to the direction of Quell’s storage. “Lulu’s gonna come with you.”

Lucas aimed a grateful look at her. He was glad that Quell understood his need to be helpful at that moment. He threw a last worried glance at Eliott, who had already lost consciousness minutes into the process, and followed after Finn.

[angstalottle]

Looks like lightning

A giant alien spaceship castle you would assume have more then enough bathrooms. However despite the size there were only four in the whole castle one in each wing. Apparently Altean’s didn’t need to go as often as humans did so they never bothered to fit every area with a bathroom.
Of course Allura had her own personal bathroom in her chambers and Corran used the one in the east side of the castle leaving the five Paladins to share the one closest to their collective rooms.
Shiro at first attempted to create a time chart so that everyone would have time to get ready in the morning and get in a shower before bed.
However he quickly learnt that asking a group of teenagers not to take hours in the bathroom was like expecting a pig to sprout wings and fight the Glara.
Keith spends the least time in the morning, only bothering to brush his teeth before going out to train, it’s the evenings that he takes his time, spending almost an hour in the shower letting the warm water work its magic on his sore aching muscles.
Hunk takes his time whenever he uses the bathroom. Often singing or having imaginary arguments with himself.
Pidge spends hours in there. Often taking their computer in with them and ends up losing themselves so completely in their work that they could leave for five minutes to use the toilet and not be seen until dinner.
However out of everyone Lance is by far the worst. He spends hours in there every morning and evening, he will often run out during training just to look in the mirror. Because of this more then a few times a fellow Paladin has been forced to run across the castle in search of another bathroom.
After yet another close call Pidge had enough.
“He’s just so vain!” They snapped walking into the common area where Keith was sat sharpening his knife. 
“I know but there’s not much we can do about it” he shrugged not even bothering to look up as the green paladin flopped down on the couch next to him.
“We could complain to Allura or maybe Shiro?” They offered voice slightly muffled by having their face buried in the cushions.
“Wouldn’t work. They already know and the worst that would happen to him is get a lecture and maybe being out of cleaning duty, it wouldn’t change anything. As long as he’s got all his cleaning products he’s going to continue to hogging the bathroom.” Keith patted Pidge on the head when they let out a frustrated groan.
Suddenly they sat bolt upright making Keith pull his hand away in surprise. 
“But what if he didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?” Keith questioned a little unnerved by the Cheshire Cat like grin that spread across the smaller Paladins face.
“What if Lance didn’t have his products? What if someone were to hide them to teach him not to just leave his stuff lying around in the bathroom like he owned the place?”
A similar grim spread across Keith’s face as he realised what exactly Pidge was suggesting.
“I think that just might teach him a lesson.”
———————————–
When Lance rolled out of bed that morning like every morning he walked down the hall to the bathroom so he could wash off his face mask and get ready for the day. 
However when he had washed the white mask off and reached for his makeup bag only to find it missing he knew something was very wrong. He checked again in case he had put it somewhere else the night before but found nothing.
At this point he began to panic falling to his knees as he tore apart the bathroom desperately searching for his bag as his breaths came shorter and faster.
He had to find his bag.
He couldn’t let the others see him without his makeup.
———————————–
Unlike Pidge, Keith couldn’t wait to see Lance get his comeuppance, so when he heard Lance go to the bathroom that morning Keith had followed close behind listening just out side of the door waiting for the moment of realisation of the prank.
Keith had expected Lance to get angry or maybe even a few tears but nothing major.
What he didn’t expect was to hear the sounds of the bathroom being ripped apart and soft desperate sobbing.
Worried the red paladin opened the door “Lance are you-” 
He cut off when he saw exactly why the makeup bag had meant so much to him.
Across the right side of his face there were long white scars trailing along his skin. There were five in total all connected at the side of his neck disappearing under his clothes. One stretched over the outside of his face curling round to just above his left eyebrow. Another curled under his right eye with one branching off to across his nose. The other two wrapped around each other by his chin and jaw line.
Seeing Keith Lance instantly threw his hands up covering his face. “Don’t look at me!” He screamed frantically.
His sleeves fell down showing his right arm also covered with the swirling pale scars shockingly different to his dark skin.
Keith stared at him in shock. 
How long had Lance been hiding this from them? When had he been hurt? What could of done this kind damage?
“Oh god… Lance”
Lance shrunk away from Keith not stopping until he hit the cold tile wall.
He looked like a trapped animal countered by a predator.
“I’m so sorry” Keith mumbled sitting down next to him and pulling the blue paladin into a slightly awkward hug.
Lance stiffened for a moment before melting under his team mates touch.
He turned, burying his face into Keith’s chest and sobbed desperately.
Keith wasn’t sure what to do. All he knew was that he wanted to make Lance feel better. Slowly he began to run his free hand through the taller boys hair making quiet shushing noises.
Half an hour later Lance had calmed down and had stopped crying, however he still had his face hidden in Keith’s shirt.
“Thanks” Lance mumbled so quietly that Keith had to wonder if he had imagined it. 
The guilt stopped him in the stomach. He didn’t deserve thanks. He deserved to get his ass kicked and then shot out into space for what he had done.
“You don’t need to thank me… it’s my fault” 
Lance slowly looked up just enough so that his blue teary eyes were visible. “It’s not… its mine.”
Keith bit his lip, he wanted to argue but Lance almost never talked about himself, not really.
“How so?”
“I was twelve I think, back when me and my family still lived in Cuba…”
Keith could practically hear the homesickness dripping from those words. He wished he could relate but he never really had a home to miss in the first place.
“Mamma told me and my older brother not to go to the ocean that day. But Leo told me it would be fine. And it was for a little bit. We swam, played and surfed for a couple hours. Then it started to get dark and Leo said it was time to go home b-but I was having too much fun so I ignored him. I even ignored him when he tried to warn me…” 
Lance was quiet for a few minutes trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 
“See Mama had seen on the news that there were lots of Jellyfish in the water that day… she tried to keep us safe without scaring us. 
But we wanted to play and well I didn’t notice the Jellyfish until one stung me on the ankle…”
Keith found himself leaning closer silently urging Lance to continue.
“I fell off my board right into a whole bunch of them. I don’t remember much. Just blinding pain then next thing I know I’m waking up in hospital a week later.”
Keith gasped cringing at how Lance flinched at the noise.
“C-can I see?” He asked hesitantly. He didn’t expect his request to be answered so it was surprising when Lance took of his shirt to show the mess of thin white scars that stretched across his torso.
Kieth couldn’t help but run his finger over the one across Lance’s chest. 
“Beautiful” 
“What was that?” Lance asked causing Keith to blush bright red “I erm I only meant that they look cool! Like lightning!” He sputtered.
Lance chuckled bitterly “yeah I used to think so too. In Cuba at least the kids in school saw it as a badge of honour. But after my Dad died and we had to move to America to live with my Grandparents well… kids can be cruel. They can be cruel about makeup too but I find it’s easier to play the vain pretty boy then have to deal with teasing or worse pity.”
Keith gulped. He was honoured that Lance shared something so personal with him but he knew he didn’t deserve it. 
“Look Lance this really is my fault me and Pidge stole your stuff to try and get back at you for always hogging the bathroom.” 
Keith expected yelling, maybe more crying. What he didn’t expect was for Lance to just shrug one shoulder “yeah I figured from how guilty you looked.”
“Your not mad?”
Lance laughed, for real this time. “No I’m not mad. Your the first person to call my scars beautiful… it kinda meant a lot.”
Lance looked away blushing almost as much as Keith was.
He realises his hand was still resting on Lance’s bare chest and pulled it away only for it to be grabbed by Lance.
“Glad I was awake for this bonding moment”
Keith smiled looking down at their hands for a moment.
“Yeah me too.”