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#but just getting to watch them tick you know?
atyourmerci · 3 days
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Softdom!abby X plus sized insecure reader ♡
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Abby painting all the things she loves about your body
CW: smut, MDNI, softdom!abby, sub!reader, plussized!reader, reader is anxious, me making up shit ab artistry, face sitting, fingering, mult orgasms
♡ ♡
In your sun kissed painting room, abby lies against your velvet couch, her blonde hair glowing against her pale flesh. She often modeled for all of your class assignments so she was used to her spotlight.
She loved watching you at work, so concentrated as you perfected your craft. She would do anything for you, she just wanted to help her beautiful girl.
As your eyes are trained on the majority of a blank canvas you zone in on creating your base, knowing your girlfriend would stay still so you can get your perfect shot.
“Why don’t you ever let me pain you?” Is heard from behind the white canvas propped up on your easel.
It caught you so off guard your head peaks around the board to look at your girlfriend. hmmm? Comes out as an honest confusion.
She giggles to herself at how locked in you truly were, “why don’t I ever paint you?” She reiterates.
You giggle back at her question, “because you can’t paint for shit,” you toy with her playfully.
“And what if I wanted to try huh, maybe I’m not using the right medium perhaps,” she comes back with a sophisticated air to her tone.
“Yeah yeah okay, just sit and look pretty,” you say getting back to your work when you hear a rustling, seeing her get up from the couch to approach you, “don’t move! That was a perfect-,” before you could finish her hands are wrapped around your stomach as she kisses the side of your face.
You can’t seem to protest with the naked woman behind you, touches of her sun soaked skin drenching you. You lean into it, letting her do as she pleased.
“I want to paint you,” she says in between peppering kisses down your neck. You giggle at her insistence, “baby I think we’ve been over th-,”
“No, no I want you paint on you,” she whispers into your ear as her hand cups your jaw gently.
“N-now? Right now?” You turn to face her, she had to be joking, right? Abby watches you with doe eyes, nodding back at you.
“But it’s bright in here,” you say averting your glance, the pit in your stomach growing with anxiety of the thought. Your nervous tick of flexing your fingers beginning, and abby notices.
Taking your palms into her own and rubbing circles with her thumbs on top of your hands in order to soothe you.
“I know. I want to admire every part of you. I want you to see what I see baby. Is that okay?”
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A white tapestry lies beneath your barren body, stripped of all the confines and masks you build up to protect perception.
There’s no real reason to hide from abby. She adored every inch of you. Every marking on your body was akin to threads of gold to her.
Now tracing them with your paintbrushes, creating flowers from the stretch marks on your stomach, one of the biggest insecurities you had.
You once tried to hide them, turning around to change, avoiding mirrors that may give away your secrets. She’d trace them in the safety in the darkness, admiring your body for taking care of you, protecting you when she couldn’t.
As she aimlessly paints away at your flesh she admires her artwork, not the paint itself, but her own human body sculpted for her eyes. She rambles on about how you represent the body of a Greek goddess, full and radiant.
Her light touches, soft words, and longing glances sending you into the deepest form of arousal you’d ever known.
To be loved is to be seen
Beginning to form dainty flowers amongst the stretch marks in your inner thighs you couldn’t take it anymore, breath getting heavier, her mouth beginning to gape at your dripping arousal…so close to her touch.
“Please sit on my face,” she sounded depraved, as if she’d die without it.
“B-but the paint,” you breathe out, not giving a shit, but knowing there would be a mess.
“I don’t fucking care, please baby,” she pleas, gripping into the flesh of your thighs.
You’d never done this, allowed yourself that vulnerability. You’d berate your thoughts, always worrying you’d be too heavy. What if she thought you were too much, too heavy for her? Would it change her mind about you?
She guides you above your mouth, paint smearing across her cheeks. You begin at a hover, attempting to make yourself lighter, more palatable.
“Baby all of you, please I need you,” you hear from her, tugging on your thighs to sit comfortably on top of her.
A sigh of relief floods you, releasing the tension and submitting to her completely.
If she could have eaten you whole, she would have. Sloppily licking down your cunt, pressing down your thighs to get as close as she could.
She made you whine and shake till your tired limbs gave out, falling down onto her, letting your body rest completely. Planting kisses on your forehead while she runs her fingertips through your hair.
“Let me do the work this time, just lay there and look pretty,” she says gazing down at you with a grin, knowing she’s stealing your line.
Your body sprawled out on the cloth, completely revealed to her open-mouthed gaze, sun kissing your sweaty flesh.
Driving her fingers into you she can’t help but stare at your pretty mess, paint covered, soaking cunt all of her. “Look so fucking pretty like this,” she coos, sending your head back in pleasure.
The feeling of full liberation, complete autonomy over your body, at the hands of her.
‘mine mine my girl my fucking pretty girl’ she can’t stop herself from babbling, watching as her piece of art comes to life.
Even after you finish from her fingers she can’t stop looking, obsessed, utterly enthralled at the thought of getting the honor of fucking a goddess.
Dried paint chips away at your bodies as the sun goes down. Bare bodies lying there for hours. Maybe you’d never leave this moment.
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snwprl · 1 day
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 | 𝐲.𝐣𝐡
pairing. yoon jeonghan x reader
genre. fluff
wc. 352
a/n. tried my hand on enemies to lovers trope. let me know, how is it?!
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The library was your usual battlefield - worn textbooks, your weapons, silence the tense air you breathed. Jeonghan, your academic archnemesis, sat across from you, brow furrowed in concentration as he highlighted a passage. You, ever the strategist, were already two chapters ahead, a smug satisfaction blooming in your chest.
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the open window, scattering Jeonghan's meticulously organised notes across the floor. A strangled curse escaped his lips as he scrambled to gather them. You watched, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes.
"Need a hand, Jeonghan?" you couldn't resist the jab.
He shot you a glare, the kind that usually sent shivers down your spine. Today, however, it did little to faze you. "In your dreams, Y/N."
Minutes ticked by, the silence returning, thicker this time. You stole a glance at Jeonghan, his frustration evident in the way he chewed on his pen. An idea, impulsive and daring, popped into your head.
"You want me to help you pick these up?" you asked, feigning innocence.
Jeonghan's head snapped up, surprise momentarily replacing his annoyance. "You know I do," he muttered, defeated.
A surprised laugh bubbled out of you. "You want me?" you teased, leaning back in your chair.
He met your gaze, a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. "You know I do," he said again, this time his voice firm, but his eyes held a vulnerability that took you aback.
The playful banter dissolved, replaced by a sudden awareness. You realised, maybe, just maybe, this wasn't just about winning in the classroom anymore. Maybe, Jeonghan wasn't just your rival. Maybe, there was something more brewing beneath the surface of your competitive spirit.
A slow smile spread across your face. "Alright, Jeonghan," you conceded, extending a hand towards him. "Let's get these papers back in order."
He took your hand, his fingers lingering in yours for a beat longer than necessary. A spark ignited, a silent promise of a different kind of battle, one fought not with textbooks, but with unspoken feelings. The library, once a battlefield, now held the promise of something new, something exciting.
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blackbird-brewster · 2 days
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Meta: Jemily Queerbaiting
With the huge influx of posts saying 'Jemily is gonna be canon', I really appreciated seeing this post because OP was completely correct. I didn't want to write an entire dissertation as a reply, so I'm making my own post with my personal opinion on this. (All sources are noted in footnotes)
Before I began this rant, for anyone who thinks this is anti-Jemily. It is not. I have shipped Jemily for 18 friggin years and that's never going to change. This post is specifically my thoughts about queer baiting.
First off, I need to note that the showrunners (and the cast members who use social media) KNOW what a huge queer following this show has and that's why we got pansexual Tara Lewis in S16 [1]. Which, in itself, was SOOOOOOO important!!! Our first canonically queer main in SIXTEEN seasons was a middle-aged Black woman!!! That's phenomenal. (The fact it was horrible rep, because they instantly ruined her relationships once her queerness served it's plot point is a whole other post entirely)
In my opinion, the 'big Jemily moment' Paget posted about on Twitter [2] (and AJ hinted at during a recent IG live) is simply queerbaiting to get people to watch S17. I know a lot of you are newer to the fandom and I love your enthusiasm, I really do, ship and let ship, but listen, let's be real, Jemily is not going to be made canon. The showrunners aren't going to suddenly say (after 17 seasons) 'Surprise, Jemily is endgame'. This show has never cared about queer rep and now that CBS/Paramount have already ticked their queer rep box with Tara, they won't be in any rush to add any other characters to it.
Please buckle in, I've got a lot of thoughts on this matter --
What is Queerbaiting?
If you aren't aware of what queerbaiting is, here's a good definition:
Historically, queerbaiting has carried two meanings: the first is an act of aggressive heterosexuality to shut down queer subtext on screen while still teasing and catering to the queer audience in advertising, public relations, and fan engagement strategies; the second is an existing homoerotic tension between two characters played up on screen while met with derision by the professionals behind the scenes. [3]
The Medium article quoted here is from 2017, a time when parasocial relationships were really starting to take over social media. In 2024, actors are now only a mention or tag away online, they have direct conversations with fans, and this process has allowed for an even deeper form of queerbaiting.
Oftentimes online, actors are asked directly about certain ships and while some ignore these questions (usually to avoid breaking their contracts or other repercussions), others (looking at you, Paget) choose to instead tease fans about queer ships. She's done this for years upon years and if I've learned anything in the past twenty-years of existing in fandom spaces it's this -- don't hold your breath. In it's original meaning, for something to be deemed as queerbaiting there had to be malicious, or at least, purposeful intent to string queer fans along by teasing them with suggestive content about the ship in question, while knowing this ship will never come to fruition in canon.
The thing to remember is, Paget and AJ aren't the only ones who know about Jemily shippers -- the network and showrunners are well aware of this ship too. When networks/showrunners figure out they have a strong sapphic fanbase, they love to use that to their advantage to get more viewers and higher ratings. Queerbaiting is a goldmine to keep fans watching long running shows, look at Rizzoli and Isles, Supergirl, and OUAT for examples of this.
Jemily and Queerbaiting:
Ever since Emily joined the BAU in S2 (2006), there have always been fans who ship JJ/Emily (shoutout to the old LJ forums!). Way before celebs were just a tweet away from fans, back when all our fics began with disclaimers so we wouldn't get sued by networks, we went to great lengths to keep our fanworks far removed from actors/showrunners attention.
As far as Jemily goes, this reply from Paget in a 2009 interview with TVGuide.com [4] (which has now been deleted from their site unfortunately, but there are quotes on Tumblr still [4.a]) confirmed some fans' worst fear -- the actors had found our fanworks online.
TVGuide.com: Of course, a band of fans want her to hook up with Hotch.
Brewster: I know! I didn't realize that fans make these videos on YouTube? A.J. Cook sent me a hilarious one that made it look like Prentiss and J.J. were having a secret lesbian affair. You know, when Hotch was blown up in the SUV, we shot this scene where he's in the hospital and I'm standing next to him, looking at his bleeding ear. Our director came in and said, "Paget, you're looking at Hotch like you're in love with him. It looks really weird." So now, every day, Thomas [Gibson] and I flutter our eyelids at each other.
This was the first time I recall anyone acknowledging Jemily shippers publicly and at the time (Jan 2009), the show was still in Season Four (just before CBS fired both AJ and Paget [5]). Paget genuinely said it's 'hilarious' that fans shipped JJ/Emily. Even now, I'll see people say 'We know Paget and AJ have seen Jemily fanvids, so they obviously ship it too' -- but those same people rarely acknowledge the full context of the original answer. Paget not only thought JJ/Emily were 'hilarious', but then she doubled down and turned her reply back to how she and Thomas liked to play up the chemistry between Emily/Hotch.
While no one can say for sure which video it was that AJ sent Paget, just knowing they were watching JJ/Emily fanvids sent a bit of a shockwave through the femslash side of the fandom. To some it felt like an invasion of privacy, fanworks are by fans for fans -- knowing the cast were poking around in fandom spaces added an extra layer of worry around what we fans were posting online. Fifteen years ago, it used to be quite taboo for actors to outwardly discuss shipping or other fanon for whatever show they were in, and we fans were usually comfortably removed from the actors altogether.
Of course, now it's the norm for fans and actors/showrunners to co-exist online and interact with one another. This connection has opened new ways for shows to queerbait their fans. Pretty much every show has some form of social media account now and there is no doubt that the people running those accounts keep up with the most popular ships and hashtags. Not to mention that actors are constantly barraged with questions about whether they ship their character with x,y,z, or whether they think a ship should be made canon, etc. These interactions only serve to benefit the shows themselves, because whether the conversation is for or against a certain ship, it's all just free publicity (Why do you think CM now has a TikTok account?)
Every time AJ or Paget say anything about Jemily, the queer side of the fandom loses their minds. But this has been going on for YEARS now and every single time, it turns out to be nothing but social media hype and queerbaiting. Remember this AJ post? [6] Or what about the notorious reply by Paget to a fan, where she talks about how she and AJ held hands under the table 'for the shippers' [7] I've seen this cycle over and over again, so perhaps I am cynical, but I'm not getting my hopes up that Jemily will ever seriously be canon.
It's widely known now, after both Kirsten [8] and Paget [9] have talked about it, that there was an early idea where Prentiss was supposed to be queer, but that was ultimately scraped before it ever made it on screen. For context, please remember, this show has been airing for nearly twenty years. It began in 2005, during the highly conservative Bush administration. Queer people didn't have rights in the US, we couldn't get married, we were rarely protected under discrimination laws, and we could even be fired for simply being queer (in some states). Diverse queer representation on screen was extremely limited to things like 'The L Word' and 'Queer as Folk' (both aired on Showtime, so they were behind a paywall. And as far as tLw goes, that show was extremely male-gaze focused and is horrible in nearly all regards if you try to rewatch it now). As far as prime time shows went, queer rep was even more rare. Which is why Emily wasn't queer from the get-go.
Yes, things have changed since 2006 in terms of queer rep on TV. We have a myriad of queer identities represented in TV and film nowadays, which is why I think it's so easy for newer fans to say 'lf she was supposed to be gay anyway, they should just make Emily queer in canon!' I know this is what fuels most fans' demands for Emily being confirmed queer, and I get it, I DO. I would be all for it! However, I do not, in one hundred years, actually believe that is going to happen after they already canonically queer confirmed Tara in S16. The fact we even got ONE queer character is ground-breaking for this show.
It's also worth noting, that in the time between Paget's departure in 2012 and her return in 2016, she became very active on Twitter. This was when more and more fans began asking her about Jemily and after Kirsten's AfterEllen interview, fans also pushed for Paget to address the possibility of Emily being gay. 'Pushed' is actually an understatement for some of the outright harassment she would receive. (AJ received some of this harassment too, but less so because she doesn't use social media ass often) Back then, neither of them replied to these things directly. Yet, no matter what either woman posted, the replies were full of Jemily stans begging for her acknowledgement. (Did you know 'stan' is literally a term coined for stalker fans?) I remember one time AJ's friend was missing and she posted info on her IG about it, you know what the replies were? People asking her about Jemily. It was genuinely sickening.
Within this context, it was no surprise to fans when Emily came back in S12 , she and JJ's friendship was seemingly erased. The two women were rarely on screen together in the late seasons, plus the writers saw fit to even give Emily not only one (Mark in London, but two, on-screen boyfriends for the first time in the entire series. I personally do not think these changes to Emily's character were coincidence, I saw the hellscape of what people would say to AJ and Paget online and I fully believe that upon Paget's return to the show, the showrunners purposely tried to distance JJ and Emily to dissuade the more abusive side of the fanbase.
Can I prove that, no. But it is the only reason I can think of as to why Emily S12+ seemingly didn't care about JJ anymore, despite their deep and meaningful friendship. I mean, they both CROSSED THE WORLD to go rescue each other in prior canon -- but when Emily comes back, they acted like they barely knew each other. This was even more prevalent in S16, when JJ's main storylines all revolved around Will, and Emily barely looked at JJ in the entirety of ten episodes. (Remember how Prentiss didn't even hug JJ after bomb, but she did go hug Luke?)
So, do Paget and AJ earnestly ship Jemily, or are they continuing the long tradition of queerbaiting us? Who fucking knows, not me. But based on the history of this fandom, I think I can make a safe bet. (Interestingly, if you search all of Paget's twitter for the word 'Jemily' [10] she only has 3 direct tweets mentioning the ship. I don't think it's a coincidence that two are within the past few months since they started filming S17 (the other one was a RT of Kirsten (who tagged something Jemily)
This is all to say --
Just because Paget and AJ have publicly talked about Jemily,, this doesn't mean it's ever going to happen on screen. And you know what, THAT'S OKAY!! There has been this constant outcry (after Tara became queer confirmed) of 'Do Emily next' or 'Why wasn't it Emily with a girlfriend!?' and 'Jemily needs to be canon in S17!' -- as if people believe their ships aren't worth anything unless they are canon.
That couldn't be further from the truth! Fandom is built on headcanons and fan interpretations and rare pairs and all types of shippers. Your ship does NOT need to be canon for you to enjoy it. I will ship Jemily forever, no matter what. I don't think there will be some magical queer plot in S17, at best, we might actually get to see Emily/JJ on screen together again and after the train wreck that was S16 -- I'll take whatever I can get.
And hey -- if I am completely wrong, if Erica Messer pulls a Korrasami out of her hat, I will be ecstatic. I will be happy to be proved wrong, but at the same time, I'm not going to lose sleep over it and I'm DEFINITELY not going to go hound the actors about it on social media.
Sources:
[1] 2022 Digital Spy article about the importance of Tara's coming out
[2] 04/18/24 Paget Tweet
[3] 2017 Queerbaiting article from medium.com
[4] 2009 Broken TVGuide link
[4.a] Tumblr quote from the above TVGuide Interview
[5] 2010 Kirsten interview screenrant.com
[6] 2019 AJ Instagram Post
[7] 2020 Paget video on Twitter (via @karasluthqr)
[8] 2015 Kirsten interview AfterEllen.com
[9] 2016 Paget Interview CriminalMindsFans.com
[10] @PagetPaget search 'Jemily'
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yayyyy 💕 then can i ask for a scenario in which the reader, who’s a trans guy, volunteering to be the bride in the ghost groom scenario and threatening to stab anyone who says anything about him looking like a girl with platonic feng xin + mu qing and romantic hualian? (or just xie lian, since technically hua cheng is only there for like, .5 seconds lol)
(💥 anon)
Masculine Bride?
HuaLian x ftm(?)reader
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IM SO SORRY 😔 I'VE HAD THE WORST FEW MONTHS OF MY LIFE BUT I LIVE I WILL BE COMPLETING REQUESTS AGAIN THANKS FOR NOT GIVING UP ON ME AGAIN GUYS ☺️🖤
____________________________________
☀️Feng Xin didn't want to be in this ridiculous mission at all. He has to deal with Mu Qing in disguise and he has to see Xie Lian who was once his best friend. So it feels a little awkward to him but he gets to see you too! So he's quite happy to see you and Xie Lian again
☀️When he finds out that the plan is to disguise as a bride he immediately says Nuh uh. No way he's doing that, Mu Qing would never live it down.
☀️But when you offer to disguise as the bride, since you do looke somewhat androgynous he's like great!
☀️He doesn't have to do it and he can protect you if you all get in harms way
☀️Honestly he's surprised you volunteered so quickly. Feng Xin knows you'd rather stay in your male form and he knows you don't like appearing feminine much these days. Gods do it all the time so Feng Xin doesn't mind. Have you seen Shi Qingxuan?
☀️So everything was going great, they got you dressed and the one village girl did your makeup so you didn't look like a clown. But then they ran into those annoying men again.
☀️ They were congratulating Xie Lian, Mu Qing, and Feng Xin for finding a pretty bride and even wanted to join up, but they all knew the men just wanted to eat off their success.
☀️So when you laughed and explained you did make a good bride even though you're a man, No one really laughed. The men had genuinely thought you were a woman sooo they try to call your bluff.
☀️You did in fact change forms to look more like a bride but it doesn't feel good to have every single feminine feature to be pointed out. You're used to it so you weren't going to say anything but the group of men freeze and their skin pales when you hear a crack behind you
☀️Feng Xin may or may not have broken a pillar. May or may not have damaged his own temple. . .
☀️it succeeds in shutting the men up because what man is able to just break a God's pillar?!
☀️Feng Xin has to admit he's pretty irritable, but hearing the group of men bully you just pisses him off. He knows he's supposed to be in disguise and not gain your attention but he can't stand by and watch you be passive about it.
☀️ When the men practically evacuate the area you only laugh softly and link arms with him saying, "I found my guard!" You already know it's Feng Xin🙄
🌕Mu Qing was also your best friend and you never really gave him the chance to distance himself from you like he distanced himself from Xie Lian.
🌕Mu Qing has been with you a long time and he knows you're more comfortable identifying as a man. He has no issue with it. It took some time getting used to but he doesn't care as long as you're happy.
🌕so hearing the group of men start pointing you out so blatantly ticks him off. He knows he can't harm mortals but he sure wishes he could.
🌕It's not against the rules to threaten them though, so when he threatened to cut off their hand because it's rude to point isn't against the rules either.
🌕You were surprised honestly, Mu Qing doesn't care about a lot of things and doesn't usually get violent unless it's with Feng Xin.
🌕but you laugh when the group of men run off and you lean on Mu Qing. Saying you're so happy to have your own personal protector
🪷Xie Lian doesn't really fight. It's not that he can't he just doesn't see a point to do so.
🪷but that doesn't mean he'll let people bully you either
🪷 You've stuck with him for awhile so you're used to just taking mean words in stride. Xie Lian has never let them get away with it though.
🪷So it comes as a Surprise to you all when Xie Lian uses rou'ye to tie the group of men up together and he "advised them to go away before something unfortunate happens"
🪷You smiles and kiss his cheek, linking arms with him with a smile.
🪷"You're cute when you're protective"
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A new burrow.
[Note: psssttt @nobodys-reblogs come get your BIB fuelll!]
"...What is that?" Horror pointed to the bunnies—Very round ones at that, snuggled warmly in Killer's jacket, as he gave the widest smile.
"Rabbits!" He exclaimed, bouncing on his heels as Dust lit up his third cigarette today, he did not have the sheer mental compatibility that was required to deal with Killer's energy.
"...Not food?" Horror followed up with as he tilted his head, and Killer shook his skull. "Nope! Not food! They look like us!" He handed Horror the bunny missing an ear, as he glanced down hungrily at it.
Then he placed Dust's bunny on top of the hooded skeleton's head... because of course he did.
"We're not keeping them." The smoker spoke with a gruff voice, and Killer pouted, his heart shaped soul seemed to dim a bit.
"Uh, yeah we are?" Killer said as his bunny was chewing on his hoodie's strings, little tail wagging as it's eye.. goop? Was getting everywhere.
Horror looked at Dust, then back at his bunny—Which was the largest of the three. "...They ain't gonna hurt anyone."
"Fuckin'..." The Dust bunny flopped it's ears over Dusts face, getting a groan from him. "...I hate you."
"I know!~" Killer spun the rabbit around. "I'm gonna go set up an enclosure for him!" He decided as he hopped, teleporting to who knows where.
"...Don't." Dust hissed out as Horror went to nibble on his rabbits ear, the rabbit in question was chewing on his arm.
After deciding he didn't want to watch Horror eat... well other Horror (are these.. from AUs of their own?) He left the two.
The Dust bunny continued to demand his attention, now pawing at his forehead as he tried to ignore it, walking towards the kitchen.
"Stop.. pawing me..." He grumbled, as it's paw hesitated, before bapping him again. He sighed.
"Goddammit..."
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BIBmare was royally freaked out. His henchmen were gone! He thought they'd retreat, but nooooo! Those... morons! They're gone!
He thumped throughout the carrot castle, one built off carrots and dirt, a burrow fit for king! As he was calling out of his bunnies as he saw BIB Cross, who was eating one of his decorative plants.
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"You!" He hopped forward, "Where are the others!? They haven't returned!"
BIB cross made a nibble noise.
"...Yes, I'm aware they aren't in the castle, that is an issue!" All six of his ears flopped up and down in a panicked motion.
Another squeak from BIB Cross.
"For stars—Go look for them!" He demanded. Momentarily, BIB cross paused... before eating the dry wall instead.
"OH MY GOD!" BIBmare exclaimed. "You idiot! That is not—" He paused, hopping over and nibbling on it too.
Okay- it was pretty good.
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Okay so his Bunny has now eaten a hole in his jacket, which mildly ticked him off...But, then he remembered that, the guy probably hasn't eaten anything food related in awhile. So, snack time! Plus, he wanted to see how much damage the others rabbits had caused.
"Oh Dusty!~" Killer said in a sing song voice, pausing as he got to the kitchen.
Dust, had made a sort of... Nest? He was sleeping sitting up, wrapped in a few old blankets. While Dust bunny rested in his lap, tail wagging ever so slightly. Next to him, Horror and his rabbit were curled up, along with bits of carrots and various other vegetables scattered on the floor.
Killer smirked, his own bunny still being carried within his jacket. He walked and got into the frigde, pulling out a carrot that he let his—Who he's deemed Killey devour it.
After he was done with his little snack, his small paws kicked ever so slightly, making a whine as he wanted down.
"Awe, you even fight me me!" Killer said as he just, let go- the BIB bounced three times, until it landed on the other side of the pile. He shrugged, walking over and plopping down right next to him, letting his round friend climb atop his chest, like a weighted blanket.
Yeah, this was pretty nice.
Oh, and he's sooooo using this to blackmail Dust later, with his bunny hating bullshit.
But for now, he wanna snuggle.
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one doctor who thing I’ve always thought would be fun is meeting a future doctor in a ‘current series’ - like a preemptive multi doctor special
but this ep reminded me why that’s not a good idea :(
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natsubane · 5 months
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watched all the available episodes of sousou no frieren today and surprised myself with how much i enjoyed it so i want to leave my thoughts here before i forget them; i think it would've been a lot more enjoyable if i was catching it from the start, but i ended up crying more than several times anyway
it's such a good concept to begin with, the storytelling is so compelling, and i really enjoyed the atmosphere in every episode. the worldbuilding is very good, we never really get exposition dumped but we learn things as the characters do, which keeps things believable and easy to stomach... plus, we always see stories about the defeat of the demon king, and much less the story of the aftermath, which got me interested in it in the first place. and especially when you add in the factor of time as a matter of inconsequence to frieren in comparison to everyone else especially with her personality... it's so satisfying seeing the exploration of things like the delicate balance between memories of the past and their inability to be changed with how they have influenced and shaped growth (of both the characters and the world) into the present, the passing of time and its varying (in)significance to the characters caught in its flow, the transience of life and (the learning of) what it means to live...
even then the flow of time passing is animated so well; there's this relentlessness to its passing, but despite that it flows like a calm river, clear and constant and steady, never hurrying, never drying. and mage's comment about it showcasing perfectly how frieren stays the same despite time passing is really neat too. on the flip side seeing how things have changed over time (the borrowing, adaptation, improvement of spells from demons which then go on to be adopted by mages is something i really fucking liked!! and the way fern uses the magic so casually as a way to demonstrate the development of magic turning a death spell into 'ordinary offensive magic' is so so good. frieren using this to teach her a history lesson was Also really good.)
it's hard to dislike any of the main characters when they show such strong cohesion of their complex pasts and personalities, and their actions do so well to showcase who they are even in battle (fern's precision and blunt simplicity stands out here). you can even see how they have changed each other over the course of their journey... frieren wanting to give up on finding the lost ring so not to slow the party down but fern insisting they'll stay until she finds it contrasting with her impatience with frieren spending months trying to find the blue moon weed at the beginning of their journey is something that stuck with me a lot
the other thing that stuck with me is the rebuilding of the original party not only thematically within their roles but also in influence by the original heroes (fern being taught by frieren and their noted similarity in the earlier episodes with regards to magic, stark being taught by eisen and the same way they express and approach fear, sein's choice not to become an adventurer being directly influenced by heiter not to mention their obvious similarities in habits)... and of those it's really fitting how frieren represents himmel's hero role now after she was influenced by her journey with himmel, especially with his death giving immense meaning to her new journey and frieren copying his actions because it's what he would do
but i enjoyed it... will be back next week..... waha.............
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chaoswillcalmusdown · 3 months
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The Banshees of Inisherin / Polite Society / Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse / Summer of Soul/They Cloned Tyrone /The Godfather/Rye Lane / Bottoms / Die Hard
9 Favourite First Time Watches: 2023
Tagged by @thatidomagirl and tagging @cryptiddies @icedsodapop @polarcell @naslostcontrol @kutputli @fishbarconcept and anyone else who wants to do it
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cant do it anymore sorry, unfollowed literally everyone except for a very VERY small handful of blogs, mostly ppl i know irl or im very close to like on priv or something. i will still post but it's Just Me jfhdk there's probably not gonna be any new art reblogs or anything... just reminiscing on old stuff, i cant deal with the new stuff anymore
i did keep all the smplive blogs in my following tho on the off chance someone decides to come crawling back lmao
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lordiavolo · 1 year
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to be like frank here, redemption is an ever going cycle. when youve been the problem, the toxic ex, the abuser, you have to know you will have to apologize for that for the rest of your life. you will always have to live with the guilt and conscience of knowing how you hurt that person, or mutliple people. and you have to constantly CHOOSE to not repeat that behavior, and its not easy.
when you meet a new friend the topic of who you used to be will come up eventually, and if you have changed youll be honest with who you were. you cant run from it. you cant try to round the corners and make it seem like the other persons fault, or like it wasnt as bad as it was. its really really scary. because everytime you open up about it, its not just the wound of guilt but its also the fear that theyre going to look inside and not like what theyll see.
but you have to keep moving on and you have to keep being honest. and you have to remember that everyone is applicaple for redemption, you just have to work for it and admitting you were wrong with no buts is the first step.
#anyways cna u tell im kinda going thru it LOL#ive always been a toxic person thats why ive sort of secluded myself from society i avoid human contact w non household members as much as#possible bcuz i feel honestly like im a ticking time bomb that just hurts everything i touch#i dont think its fair to have to have someone deal w my shit when its such an emotional turmoil so even though i want friends im making my#peace w the fact that i like honestl dont really deserve rhem? ik this seems MOPEY but its like this is my geniune non like baiting thoughts#i was an abuser in high school and in an abusive relationship where for the first half i was the perpetrator. i hit my ex and u know i dont#even have anything to add to it other than it was fucked up. i was selfish in bed and sex addicted and sometimes did anything for my fix.#i will and cannot lie about my past as being a shitty person. its scary to say and post but i have to be honest thats who i was that IS a#part of my history as much as i wish i could i cannot erase.#i dont rly even know what to add here honestly. just watching mias vid got me thinking u know#there is more to this story ofc the same ex i was abusive to was also abusive to me it was just split into segments. like i was the problem#for the first year and a half then it switched to them but its not rly rhe best place 2 share that story when im talking about my mistakes#im not trying to detract here i just want 2 get this shit off my chest again. ive talked about it before but not since remaking a few times#anyways i dont have any excuses well i mean i can pull a bunch out but im not going to cuz at the end of the day i shouldve known better#than to be a bitch when i knew i was being a bitch u know?#being the bad guy is a constant struggle where u will have to really really fucking fight yourself tooth and nail to change and i want to be#that person. i want to be someone who can be 100% honest about how shit i was to myself and others (which i do already do to my friends)#hopefully this makes sense idk anyways if ur struggling with being abusive or toxic im here for u. u can get through this and you can be a#good person it is within ur hands i promise u#ok love u goodnight#personal
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beeseverywhen · 9 months
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god the duality between 'I don't want someone in my house' and 'yeah I'd like my own kids and no way I'm doing that alone'
#like ppl who don't want kids should be free to live their lives without ppl being like 'watch out! your biological clock is ticking!'#that's bullshit ppl shouldn't say that. but also. i would like kids and#after so many years trying not to get pregnant and that seeming like a worst case scenario. so desperately wanting to not become my parents#now i am an age where I'd happily have a kid if i were in the right life situation & i don't feel I've got all the time in the world anymore#lol like. the space in between 'too young to have a baby' and 'old enough that i risk more health issues/ will be an older parent'#feels way way narrower than i ever would have assumed lol. esp. because all the parents in my family are so young. the idea of being an#older parent is so strange to me. I'm so aware of the things you can't do when you're older and how it's harder work to run after them#and like my body is already wearing out way faster than anyone elses. my health's only gonna get worse so.#being an older parent just doesn't seem an option. not to mention like. the older i am the less generations I'll get to see.#i want to be a great grandmother damnit. lol.#like I'm on a clock. to get over my commitment issues or it legit won't happen. but yeah. can't think of anything worse than having#to have someone in my house. if i was rich enough to have lots of space that's one thing but. I'm not lol.#and rich ppl rub me up the wrong way whenever they try and chat me up so doubt I'm gonna marry in to money looool#like i have come to terms with the fact that. if it doesn't happen it doesn't happen. id rather not get to be a mother than to settle#like that whole 'looking for a partner' dating life is not for me i can't think of anything worse. if it happens it happens#I'll either meet the right person who im willing to give up an empty house for or i won't looool#and it's not like im giving up the whole raising kids thing completely.#like I've got to play a significant hand in raising my siblings even if i didn't ask for that. I've got to see them grow and#help them reach those milestones. and whatever the circumstances I'm blessed to have had them in my life#even if i don't have my own kids I'm always gonna have kids in my life even if I'm an aunt rather than grandmother you know#I'm lucky to be in a family where raising kids is a communal thing. but yeah id love to have my own kids & have someone that looks like me#but I'm not willing to bring someone in to the world in non opportune circumstances deliberately.#like if it's up to me i want them to have 2 parents to look out for them and 2 parents that at least stand a chance of liking each other lol
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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I'm trying to write a post about tick safety and avoiding tick bites, but a lot of the info on websites is like "Avoid going in the woods, in plants, and where there are wild animals" and "Activities like hiking and gardening can put you at risk" and I'm like thanks! This is worthless!
As ticks and tick borne illnesses are expanding their range, I think it's important for people to be educated about these things, and I think it's especially important to give people actual advice on how to protect themselves instead of telling them to just...avoid the natural world
Rough draft version of Tick Advice:
Ticks don't jump down on you from trees, they get on you when you brush against grass, brush, bushes etc.
Ticks get brought to an area when they get done feeding from an animal and fall off them. In the USA, the main tick-bringing animal is deer, but I've seen plenty ticks on feral cats and songbirds.
Ticks get killed when they dry out so drier areas with more sunlight are less favorable to ticks.
The above is useful for figuring out whether an area is likely to have lots of ticks, and how vigilant you have to be in that area.
Wear light-colored, long pants outside. Tuck your pants into your socks, and tuck your shirt into the waist of your pants. Invest in light, breathable fabrics idc
IMMEDIATELY change out of your outside clothes when you come back from a tick-prone area, wash them, and dry them on high heat to kill any ticks that might be stuck on.
Shower and check yourself for ticks after coming inside. Hair, armpits, and nether regions in particular. You can use a handheld mirror or rely on touch; an attached tick will feel like a bump kinda like a scab
While you're outside, you can just periodically check for ticks by running your hands down your legs and checking visually to see if anything is crawling on your clothes. Light colors make them easy to spot, and they don't move fast.
Combing through each others' hair to check for creepy crawly critters is a time-honored primate ritual and is not weird. When hiking, bring a friend who will have your back when you feel something on your neck and need to know if it's sweat or a tick
If you're careful, you can usually catch ticks before they bite you, but if one does bite you, it's not the end of the world. Since tickborne diseases are different regionally i suspect this advice will differ based on where you are, but the important thing is remove the tick with tweezers (DON'T use butter, a lit match, or anything that kills the tick while it's still attached, please) and contact a doctor to see what to watch for. Most illnesses you can catch from ticks are easily treatable if you recognize them when symptoms first appear
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zhongrin · 4 months
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festered wounds
— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.
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© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’
✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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“i’m sorry.”
zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.
“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.
“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”
“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”
zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.
belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.
zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.
“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”
“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”
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“a-are you sure you want me?”
out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.
“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”
“oh….”
“….”
“….”
you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.
“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”
you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.
and it angered him.
but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.
funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.
“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”
“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”
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“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”
wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—
he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.
“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”
he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…
“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”
“then is your own head telling you that?”
“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.
he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.
he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.
“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”
the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.
he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.
“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat
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neckromantics · 3 months
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We don't talk enough about how absolutely devastating and romantic and hot the idea is that Astarion would know the scent of your blood anywhere.
How quickly he would notice when you've even the slightest of nics? When, no matter how focused on anything else he might be at the time, he always comes to check it out?
You'll be peeling a piece of apple with your pocket knife when it slips in your grip. The sharp edge of the blade slices a shallow cut into the meat of your thumb, and you inhale sharply through your nose even though it barely hurts at all. Instinct has you sucking your injured digit into your mouth with a soft curse– the sweet juice of the fruit you were snacking on quickly overpowered by the metallic twang of blood.
You nearly jump out of your skin when he appears over you not a moment later. He makes some offhand comment about how careless you are. Takes hold of your injured hand and tuts like he intends to tease, but he isn't fooling anyone.
He stands so close, jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, a tension in his shoulders that tells you he's doing everything in his power to keep composure. Your blood calls to him like a moth to a flame, and as funny as you find it in the moment, you don't have the heart to tease him for it. It's actually kind of endearing.
He'd only get quicker in noticing as time passes.
Especially after you've been traveling together for a few years, and he's come to know your scent better than his own. Which only makes sense considering how often he's got his nose pressed to some part of you. (He thinks you smell good.)
At this point, when you get injured in battle, he often catches the fragrance before you've even processed that you've been hit.
He'd suck in a sharp breath through his teeth– a hiss so loud that it catches your attention just enough for you to spare him a glance as you fight.
It's all you need to see just how blown his pupils are from where you're standing, mostly because his gaze is laser locked onto you to second you search for him. His movements turn faster. Deadlier, as he scans the field before you. Determined. Hungry. Angry. He's searching for the sorry wretch that dared to get the best of you– that dared spill even a drop of his beloved's precious blood upon the soil.
You've already taken them down, of course. Poor sap might have gotten a good dig in at your shoulder, but ultimately didn't stand a chance once he properly pissed you off.
Astarion's eyes go heavy.
Half-lidded in that special way of his and only darkening further as he appraises you. You can practically feel it as he follows the line of your throat, zeroes in on your pulse point for a moment, before settling to watch the warm crimson that's beginning to soak into the sleeve of your tunic.
You see a bit of concern in those eyes, but then he sees your smile and– A flash of hot, honeyed desire catches you by surprise.
You suddenly can't tell if it's just the blood loss making you woozy or if he's about to make you swoon like a maiden from an old romance novel. You try (and fail) to keep a straight face when he sinks his dagger into his final opponent's neck without so much as a glance their way.
There's a splash of red against pale white skin, and a lifeless body dropping to the grass by his feet. Your heart stutters in your chest, and he all but moans in response to the sound of it. A mere four paces and he's on you– hands and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin, ripping open parts of your armor to gain better access, like you're not stood in a field of gore and ruin and freshly spilled blood.
You cling to him like a lifeline.
Before he drags you away to camp– to a warm tent and a soft bedroll where he can have his way with you for as long as you and your mortal body will allow him– he has you down a potion of healing or two.
And it's a good thing one of you has a Lesser Restoration spell handy somehow, cause you're most definitely gonna need it.
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assassinsblade · 4 months
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Arrows and Ashes
You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?
WC: 4.7k
Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.
Part 2
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Drip. Drip. Drip.
It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.
How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?
It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.
From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.
You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.
You might not make it out of here.
You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.
Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.
If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.
But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.
"Cassian..."
"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."
He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.
You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.
“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."
Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.
Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.
Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.
Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?
The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.
They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...
But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.
So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.
You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.
But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.
Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.
Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.
"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."
But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.
The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.
The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.
"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."
Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.
Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.
Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.
"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."
You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.
You were alive. You were strong.
There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.
“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.
You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.
It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.
You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.
Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.
It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.
You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.
You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.
Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.
Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.
You thought you heard Cassian retching.
And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.
Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.
But everything ached and stung.
As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.
You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.
Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.
And then you were going in and out of darkness.
There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.
But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.
You’d hear glimpses.
You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.
Big threats from a bedridden brute.
You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.
You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.
And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.
“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”
But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?
You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.
Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.
“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”
You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.
“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.
“Do you want her to live?”
You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.
Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.
Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.
It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.
Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.
Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.
You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.
It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-
“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.
Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.
Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?
You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.
“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”
You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.
A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.
You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.
“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.
“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”
Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.
“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.
“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”
Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”
Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.
His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.
Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.
“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.
You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.
“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”
Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.
You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.
You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.
"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."
You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.
Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.
You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.
But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.
Did it look as bad as it felt?
You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.
He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.
His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.
“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.
Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.
“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”
“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.
Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”
You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.
Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”
Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.
You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.
But you didn't.
“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.
“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.
Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.
“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.
You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.
“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”
And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.
Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”
He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.
A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”
Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.
“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.
It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.
Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”
“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.
You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...
“Keep her awake.”
Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.
And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.
“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”
Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.
“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."
You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.
"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”
His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.
Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.
Now you were just tired. So so tired.
“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”
But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.
Azriel was here. You were safe.
“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.
His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.
The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.
“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”
Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.
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empresskylo · 5 months
Note
can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.
featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro
⊹ cod men x gn!reader
[ warnings ] domestic violence implications
cod masterlist
Ghost
He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower. 
“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level. 
“I know, I’m sorry—”
“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you. 
You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.
A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you. 
You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.
“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.
You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed. 
“Who?” He asked sharply.
You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.
“ Who… ?” You repeated.
“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him. 
“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”
“Ghost, please.”
He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.
You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down. 
Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.  
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Price
You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”
He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly. 
You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with. 
Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower. 
His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance. 
His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”
“John, I–”
He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”
A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 
“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body. 
You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”
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Soap
“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day. 
“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile. 
He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!” 
He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure. 
“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice. 
“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes. 
Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile. 
“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.
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Gaz
Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you. 
“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled. 
“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.  
“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips. 
You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face. 
Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.
“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes. 
“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders. 
“Hey,” he said calmly. 
You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.
“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”
“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair. 
You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go. 
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König
He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.
He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did. 
He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions. 
Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.
“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse. 
“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little. 
He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig. 
Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively. 
“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair. 
You nodded. “M’sorry.”
He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek. 
“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him. 
“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”
You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig. 
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Alejandro
“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted. 
“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad. 
He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear. 
Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear. 
“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”
Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?” 
You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”
He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”
You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”
You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling. 
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