#Headache Relief Balm

[ajay-15]

zandu balm red

Introducing Zandu Ultra Balm, the one-stop remedy for pain issues. Zandu Ultra Balm is available to offer immediate relief from muscular discomfort, lower back pain, and back pain. This balm is made precisely to target and treat your pain thanks to its potent ingredients. Zandu Ultra Balm is the greatest balm for headache treatment, so say goodbye to those bothersome headaches as well. Experience the calming effect that Zandu Balm Ultra offers by believing in its strength. Choose Zandu Balm Red, the greatest balm for lasting pain relief, rather than settling for less when it comes to pain relief.. Zandu also sells ZANDU Roll-On, ZANDU Ortho Vedic Oil, and ZANDU Balm.

visit the website https://zandupainrelief.com/product/zandu-ultra-power/

Introducing Zandu Ultra Balm, the one-stop remedy for pain issues. Zandu Ultra Balm is available to offer immediate relief from muscular discomfort, lower back pain, and back pain. This balm is made precisely to target and treat your pain thanks to its potent ingredients. Zandu Ultra Balm is the greatest balm for headache treatment, so say goodbye to those bothersome headaches as well. Experience the calming effect that Zandu Balm Ultra offers by believing in its strength. Choose Zandu Balm Red, the greatest balm for lasting pain relief, rather than settling for less when it comes to pain relief.. Zandu also sells ZANDU Roll-On, ZANDU Ortho Vedic Oil, and ZANDU Balm.

visit the website https://zandupainrelief.com/product/zandu-ultra-power/

#zanduultrabalm #backpainrelief #lowerbackpain #balmforpain #musclepain #zandubalmultrapower #bestpainrelieverformusclepain #balmforpain #balmforpainrelief #bestbalmforheadache #zandubalmred #ZANDUORTHOVEDICOIL #Zandurollon #ZANDUBalm

Introducing Zandu Ultra Balm, the one-stop remedy for pain issues. Zandu Ultra Balm is available to offer immediate relief from muscular discomfort, lower back pain, and back pain. This balm is made precisely to target and treat your pain thanks to its potent ingredients. Zandu Ultra Balm is the greatest balm for headache treatment, so say goodbye to those bothersome headaches as well. Experience the calming effect that Zandu Balm Ultra offers by believing in its strength. Choose Zandu Balm Red, the greatest balm for lasting pain relief, rather than settling for less when it comes to pain relief.. Zandu also sells ZANDU Roll-On, ZANDU Ortho Vedic Oil, and ZANDU Balm.

visit the website https://zandupainrelief.com/product/zandu-ultra-power/

#zanduultrabalm #backpainrelief #lowerbackpain #balmforpain #musclepain #zandubalmultrapower #bestpainrelieverformusclepain #balmforpain #balmforpainrelief #bestbalmforheadache #zandubalmred #ZANDUORTHOVEDICOIL #Zandurollon #ZANDUBalm

[r3starttt]

okay okay!! how about reader gets back late from patrol (so tlou au) and ellie was all worried and it’s super cute and fluffy?? (change it to your preferences if you like :)

THESE WALLS

PAIRING: Jackson! Ellie x reader

CW: fluff. outbreak|tlou universe. brief-non detailed mention of overwhelming thoughts such as fear of loosing loved ones and stress.

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST

The night lay thick with a stillness so profound that even the faintest sound seemed to echo with unsettling clarity. Ellie, trapped in the small sanctuary she had carefully curated, paced restlessly. Her gaze was perpetually drawn to the door, its unyielding silence a stark contrast to the usual rhythm of your return. Each passing moment stretched infinitely, laden with a tension that seemed to deepen with every tick of the clock.

The dim glow of a solitary lamp cast a soft, golden haze over the room. Walls adorned with wooden murals and comic book covers. Delicate strands of Christmas lights wove their way across the space, their faint twinkle casting a gentle, warm light. Yet, despite the serene ambiance, Ellie’s heart was a storm of unease.

She attempted to distract herself, but the mundane details of her surroundings blurred into an indistinguishable haze. Every action seemed to drift by in slow motion, her frustration mounting with each fruitless effort to quell her growing anxiety. She knew in her rational mind that the patrol was fraught with danger, but her deep-seated fear of losing those she loved clung stubbornly to her thoughts.

The creak of the door shattered the quiet, sending Ellie’s heart leaping to her throat. She dashed to the entrance, the door swinging open to reveal you, looking slightly disheveled but otherwise unharmed. Relief surged through her, though it was quickly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions.

As you stepped into the room, the scene before you was both touching and a little comical. Ellie’s usual dorky charm had been replaced by a palpable anxiety. The carefully decorated room, filled with her beloved nerdy trinkets, faded into the background as your focus honed in on her distressed face.

“Hey, sorry,” you said, offering a weary smile. The concern in her eyes was evident, and you could tell she had been struggling.

“We ran into a few more infected than we expected. It took longer to clear them out,” you explained, trying to reassure her.

Ellie’s response was sharp, but it was laced with an undertone of deep-seated worry. “I was starting to think… I don’t know, shit had happened.” Her eyes, usually so full of mischief and laughter, were now wide and brimming with concern.

You stepped closer, the old floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. Her fingers drummed impatiently against her thighs, her gaze darting over you in a frantic search for any signs of injury.

Ellie let out a deep sigh, rubbing her temples as though trying to ward off a headache. “It’s not just about being late. It’s about you being safe.” Her voice faltered, and she turned away momentarily, struggling to regain her composure.

You reached for her hand, gently enveloping it in your own. “I’m here, Ellie. Safe and sound. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

Her eyes met yours once more, shimmering with a blend of relief and lingering anxiety. “I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier—never mind,” she murmured, her words softening as the harsh edge gave way to a tender vulnerability. Her usual playful demeanor was momentarily eclipsed by her raw, heartfelt fear.

Drawing her into a tight embrace, you felt her tense muscles slowly unwind against you. “I’m here,” you whispered into her ear, your voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You gently cupped her face in your hands, pressing a soft, loving kiss to her lips. When you finally pulled away, a small, contented smile graced her face, her eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

“Hey…” you murmured, leaning in closer. “How bad do I smell?” You playfully nuzzled against her, inhaling her comforting scent, the familiar fragrance and the fabric of her hoodie enveloping you in warmth.

Ellie chuckled, a soft hum escaping her as she considered your question. “Baby diapers," your quiet laughs mingling.

Your lips beushed over hers, one last tender kiss on her lips, savoring the moment. “I love you."

“I love you too,” you replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “And I’ll always come back to you.”

[shadow-book-wren]

Tea Magick (TBC)

Stir clockwise to bring positivity and then counter-clockwise to repel negativity. the tap cup 3 times to seal intent.

Green - energy, immunity, cleanse, memory

Peppermint - decongestant, clarity, stomach ache, divination, stress, dreams

Chamomile - anxiety, stress, sleep, dreams, money, gut-health, headaches

Hibiscus - blood pressure, love, harmony, anti-inflammatory

Black - strength, repel negativity, energy, heart health, digestion

Ginger - nausea, stomach ache, menstrual pain, money

White - cleansing, protection, antioxidant

Cinnamon - cold relief, anti-inflammatory, metabolism, dreams, psychic

Matcha - mental clarity, detox, protection

Chai - calming, energy, digestion, nausea, pain

Lavender - dreams, psychic, calming, cramps, headaches

Lemon Balm - Dreams, cleansing, anxiety, sleep

Goldenrod - divination

Mulberry - divination

Rosemary - protection, memory, headaches

Juniper - protection

Lemon - protection

Basil - money

Marigold - psychic

Bay-leaf - psychic

Dandelion - cleansing

Thyme - cleansing, psychic

Saffron - positivity, happiness

Turmeric - arthritis, cancer, ibs, alzheimers

Mushroom - healing, aging, cancer

Rose - dreams, psychic

Mugwort - dreams

Jasmine - dreams

Clove - psychic

[vampirestookmydoubts]

can i request a bridgerton sister one with violet bridgerton! maybe we're the sister is dying or i'll? prompt #24 "You're too good for this world." and #38 - "Hey. Hey! What did I just say? Keep your eyes open!”

A/N: thank you for the request! absolutely love writing for bridgerton, especially because I'm currently rewatching every season! I was in a writers slump forever, hope you like it!

Characters: bridgerton!sister, Violet Bridgerton, Bridgerton siblings

Warnings: life-threatening illness

In the heart of Grosvenor Square, the Bridgerton household, usually bustling with laughter and lively conversations, was subdued. The shadows seemed longer, the rooms quieter. You, one of the youngest Bridgerton, laid in your bed, your face pale and body weak from a relentless illness that had struck you with cruel suddenness mere days ago. The entire family was ensnared in a web of fear and hope, each of them dealing with the anguish in their own way.

Your mother, Violet sat by your bedside, caring for you the way only a loving mother could.

She had not left your side for days, her eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights filled with fear and silent prayers. Her hands, usually steady and composed, trembled as she applied a cool cloth to your feverish forehead. You sighed in relief as it soothed your headache and fever for a moment.

"You're too good for this world," Violet whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions as she caressed your cheek. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back, determined to stay strong. "My darling girl, you must fight. We all need you."

Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze still unfocused but filled with a flicker of recognition at the sight of your mother. "Mama," you murmured, your voice a faint whisper.

"Shh, save your strength," Violet replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You will get through this. The best doctors are tending to you, and your brothers and sisters are all praying for you."

As if on cue, Anthony, the eldest of your siblings, entered the room. His usual stoic demeanor was replaced by a mask of worry, his eyes revealing the depth of his concern. He walked around your bed, taking the opposite side from your mother and squeezed your hand gently.

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically tender. "How are you feeling today? Kate told the servants to prepare a special tea for you.” You turned your head to look at him, answering him by squeezing his hand back. “You're a fighter. You've always been. Remember when you climbed that tree and refused to come down until you saw the sunset? You were only five, and you had more determination than any of us."

You managed a weak smile, the memory flickering faintly in the back of your dazed mind. "I remember," you whispered.

"That's the spirit," Anthony encouraged with a bright smile. "Hold on to that. For all of us."

Hours turned into days as the Bridgerton siblings took turns at your bedside, each sharing stories, memories, and words of encouragement. Benedict brought his sketchbook and regaled you with tales of his latest artistic adventures. Colin read aloud from your favorite books, his voice a soothing balm in all this craze. Daphne and Eloise sat close, holding your hands while sharing stories of Daphne’s children and the happenings at the latest ball.

Francesca and even your youngest siblings Gregory, and Hyacinth, did their best to bring cheer to the somber room. They sang songs, recited poems, and brought in fresh flowers from the garden, filling the air with a sweet fragrance and brightening your mood.

But as the days wore on, your condition seemed to worsen albeit the frequent visits from doctors and drinking all the special teas your sister-in-law had prepared.

It became harder for you to breathe, your moments of consciousness seemingly more fleeting than before.

One evening, as a storm raged outside and the rain was drumming against the windows of your bedroom, Violet noticed your faint breathing and your eyes beginning to close. Panic surged through your mother abruptly, and she leaned closer to you, her voice urgent.

"Hey. Hey! What did I just say? Keep your eyes open!" She gently shook your shoulders, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please, Y/N. Stay with me."

Your eyes fluttered open once more, the effort exhausting you more than you thought.

"I'm so tired, Mama," you whispered, tears slipping down your pale cheeks in desperation. Closing your eyes, just for a moment to forget your aching body and dazed mind, seemed way too tempting. Why wouldn’t she let you have that moment of rest?

"I know, my love. I know," Violet said, her own tears finally breaking free. Softly cradling you in her arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But you have to stay with us. You have to keep fighting."

The room was silent except for the sound of your labored breathing and the quiet sobs of your mother. In that moment, it felt as if time had stopped, the world outside the walls of the Bridgerton home ceasing to exist.

That day as night gave way to dawn and the storm passed, a change seemed to come over you. Although your breath was still shallow, it seemed to become steadier every passing hour. Your fever began to break, and a hint of color returned to your pale cheeks. Violet watched with bated breath, hope blossoming in her heart. "You're doing it, my love. You're coming back to us," she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of relief and wonder.

Your eyes met your mother's, a faint but unmistakable spark of life coming back to you. "I'm trying, Mama."

"And you're succeeding," Violet replied, tears of relief streaming down her face. "You're succeeding, my love."

Violet knew the road to recovery would be long, but in that moment, she dared to hope again.

[chaoticrockmusic]

Worlds Apart, Minds Connected

Synopsis; After a mission goes disastrously wrong, you and Charles are separated, trapped in an unstable facility with only a telepathic link to guide you back to each other. As he navigates you through the darkness, your minds grow closer in ways neither of you expected, creating a bond that will be hard to let go once you finally reunite. The question lingers: will the connection forged in crisis survive beyond the danger?

Warnings; None but kissing the LOVELY James McAvoy uggghhhhh-

Requested by @kaley612!

The last thing you remember is Charles shouting your name before the explosion. The impact threw you back, slamming you against something hard and cold. Dazed and aching, you pushed yourself up, trying to make sense of the chaos around you. Dust settled like snowflakes, a reminder of the blast that had ripped through the building.

The connection flares to life—a warmth, gentle and insistent, nudging at the edges of your mind.

“Can you hear me?”

Charles’s voice is like a balm, familiar and grounding. Relief floods through you as you close your eyes, focusing on that connection.

“Yes, I’m here,” you answer, your mental voice steadier than you feel.

“Are you hurt?”

You swallow, taking quick stock. A few bruises, a splitting headache, but nothing broken. “I’ll survive. What about you?”

“Just a scratch,” he says, though you sense he is holding back. “Listen, we’re separated. I can’t get to you from where I am—there’s debris blocking my path. But I’ll guide you. If we keep this link open, I can see what you see. All you have to do is keep going. Can you do that?”

Your heart pounds, but Charles’s steady presence brings an odd calm over you. “I trust you.”

And, for a beat, there’s silence. You feel a brush of something—warmth, reassurance, and a trace of something deeper that he quickly shields.

“Then let’s go,” he says, his voice like a hand reaching through the darkness.

You stand and begin to move, Charles’s presence a constant pulse in your mind. Each step is careful, shadows twisting as you make your way down the broken hallways, Charles murmuring directions and gentle encouragements, his voice steady even when your path grows perilous. If you could be with him right now, you'd kiss him. As a thank you of course. Nothing more.

“You’re doing well,” he says softly, his tone dipped in admiration. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Somehow, with him there—though only in your mind—it feels true.

"Thank you, Charles. Where do I go now?"

"Charles?" Your heart dropped before you heard him again.

"I'm here, I'm here. Just... Do you really want to thank me with a kiss?"

Huh. Shit.

You freeze, heat rushing to your cheeks as his question settles in.

“I… thought you couldn’t see thoughts I didn’t direct to you,” you stammer, trying to push the words out as smoothly as possible.

There’s a soft chuckle on his end, warm and teasing. “That’s true… unless you think it loudly.”

You huff, half-embarrassed, half-defiant. His voice is quieter now, almost reverent. “I’m waiting.”

With renewed determination, you make your way down the dark hallway, Charles guiding you through each step and turn until you see the faint light of an exit. Your heart races, each footfall bringing you closer to him. And then, just as you round a corner, there he is, waiting—dust-covered, scratched, but alive and whole.

Without thinking, you run to him, and he opens his arms, catching you before you even realize you’ve thrown yourself into his embrace. His hands settle around you, firm and reassuring, as he lets out a sigh of relief that mirrors your own.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you press a kiss to his lips, a gesture of thanks, of everything left unsaid. Charles freezes for a fraction of a second, then responds, his lips gentle but warm against yours, his hands cradling you like something he never intends to let go.

When you pull back, breathless and unsure, he offers a small, tender smile. “I think we both needed that.”

“Maybe so," you whisper, a smile breaking through your own exhaustion.

And as you stand there, safe and together, the unspoken promise of something more lingers between you, fragile but very, very real.

(JAMES MCAVOY JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE-)

Plz do not copy or translate! -Callme_Bunni

[thatlotuscookie]

hi how about dabi x reader when she has a terrible headache and she's literally lying in bed crying out of pain and how he'd help her. make it soft and fluff like cuddling, kissing and pretty long if you can

✧･ﾟ: a/n : thank you so much, anon, for the adorable request! Writing soft moments with Dabi is always a treat <3 Hope this brings all the cozy vibes you were looking for!

✧ Title: ✧ Pain Killers ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: You’re curled up in bed with a splitting headache, the pain nearly unbearable—until Dabi slips into the room and wraps you in his arms. His gentle touch and quiet humming help you find peace, and as you drift off, you realize there’s no place safer than here with him. ✧ Content/Tags: Soft!Dabi, Dabi humming a lullaby LMAO, comfort, cuddling, fluff, soft mementoossss, kissy kissing ✧ WC: 1144 words // 6.3k chars

The evening was hushed and soft, the world outside wrapped in quiet darkness. Normally, nights like this felt peaceful, almost dreamlike. You’d relish the cozy calm, savoring a quiet evening with Dabi. But tonight was anything but peaceful. A pounding headache had taken root hours earlier, starting with a dull ache that grew until it felt like it was consuming you. Each heartbeat seemed to echo in your skull, the pain radiating through every inch of your head. Even the soft glow of the lamp by your bed was too much, and you were left curled up under the blankets, hands pressed to your temples as you lay in near darkness, hoping for some relief.

Silent tears trailed down your cheeks as you lay there, trying to keep from falling apart entirely. The pain was relentless, pressing down like a weight you couldn’t shake off. You didn’t hear Dabi enter the room, his quiet presence somehow managing to blend into the shadows as he came to check on you.

Dabi had been in the other room, nursing a few injuries of his own from a recent mission, but when he hadn’t heard you for a while, he’d grown concerned. His quiet, cautious steps brought him to the doorway, and his heart sank when he saw you lying in bed, your face creased in pain, your body curled tightly beneath the blankets. He might not have known how to handle every emotion, but seeing you hurting like this? That, he understood. And even if he didn’t have the perfect words to fix it, he’d give you all the comfort he had to offer.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice soft as he approached the bed. He knelt down beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence without having to move. He reached out, brushing the hair from your forehead, his fingers cool and gentle against your skin. “You okay?”

His voice was like a balm, low and grounding, cutting through the haze of pain that clouded your mind. You barely managed to open your eyes, the small movement making your head throb. But seeing him there, worry flickering in his usually unreadable gaze, made you feel a little less alone.

“Headache,” you whispered, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. “It’s…bad.”

Dabi’s frown deepened, and without another word, he climbed onto the bed beside you. He shifted until he was leaning back against the headboard, one arm sliding around you to pull you gently against his chest. He cradled you in his arms with a rare tenderness, his touch careful and warm. “C’mere,” he murmured, guiding your head to rest against his shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

The warmth of his body against yours was grounding, a steady comfort amidst the relentless ache in your head. His hand started to rub slow, soothing circles along your back, his touch gentle and steady, like he was silently telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere. Each brush of his fingers dulled the pain just a bit, giving you something else to focus on besides the pulsing headache. With your head resting on his chest, you could hear the quiet, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a soothing lull that made you feel safe, even as your head throbbed.

After a while, he started to hum, a low, almost hypnotic melody that vibrated through his chest. It wasn’t a tune you recognized, but the sound was comforting, like a lullaby just for you. He’d never been one to hum or sing, but he knew it could help, and right now, he’d do anything to ease the pain you were feeling.

Minutes ticked by, the quiet of the room broken only by the sound of his soft humming and the gentle rustle of the blankets as he adjusted his hold on you. The pain was still there, but with Dabi beside you, it felt more bearable, like he was somehow absorbing some of it, holding part of the weight so you didn’t have to carry it alone.

“Any better?” he asked after a while, his voice soft, almost a whisper. His lips brushed against your temple as he spoke, his breath warm against your skin. When you nodded faintly, he pressed a gentle kiss there, lingering as if he could somehow kiss the pain away. “Good. Just relax. I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt yourself melt into his embrace, the pain slowly receding as his arms wrapped around you, shielding you from the world. His fingers traced slow patterns along your arm, light and steady, grounding you in the present moment. He kept adjusting the blankets, making sure you were completely tucked in, his protective nature showing in the small, careful gestures.

After a while, he dipped his head, pressing a line of soft kisses across your forehead and down to your cheek, each one lingering like a silent promise. His lips brushed over the corner of your mouth, feather-light, his way of reminding you that he was there, that he’d stay by your side until the pain faded completely. Each kiss felt like a quiet reassurance, a vow to be there whenever you needed him.

When a cool draft made you shiver, he pulled the blankets up around you both, tucking them under your chin and wrapping his arms more tightly around you, creating a cocoon of warmth. He shifted, adjusting so you could lay even more comfortably against him, his fingers still threading gently through your hair.

“You’re stuck with me now, you know,” he murmured, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. “No getting rid of me.”

A faint smile pulled at your lips, the warmth in his voice melting away the last bit of tension as he adjusted his hold on you. He started to hum again, his voice low and soothing, filling the room with a quiet melody. Each note wrapped around you like a blanket, his voice the only sound you could focus on. It was a lullaby just for you, a reminder that you were safe, protected, loved.

As the minutes ticked by, the pain slowly ebbed, leaving you feeling drowsy and content in his arms. His hand never left yours, his fingers lacing with yours in a silent promise that he’d be here, no matter what. And when you finally drifted off, it was with the feeling of his gentle touch, his warmth surrounding you like a shield, his soft murmurs the last thing you heard as sleep claimed you.

When you woke up the next morning, the pain was gone, replaced by a warm, comforting drowsiness. Dabi was still there, his arms wrapped around you, his breath soft and even against your neck. You smiled, the memory of last night’s quiet intimacy filling you with a warmth that lingered even as you drifted back to sleep, safe and loved in his embrace.

[writingjourney]

pain relief | copia x gn!reader

content: 550 words, gn!reader, just some comfort for my chronic pain and tension headache prone ghesties, can be read as papa or cardinal ♡

Masterlist – Ao3 link

⛧ ✦ ⛧

The heating pad radiates a steady warmth that your tense muscles eagerly absorb. Even as the cramps in your back ease in their intensity, it’s like the memory of your pain stays trapped within the tight tissue. Lying flat on the bed, you breathe a sigh into the quiet air around you.

“Sit up for me, amore.”

It’s not even a question. When you peel your eyes open, you see Copia looking at you from his spot on the couch. He’s been reading through papers all evening, his square reading glasses slowly sliding from his nose as the minutes continue to pass, occasionally pushed up by a gloved fingertip. You’ve noticed the way he’s bringing work home with him lately, how the lines on his forehead deepen in concentration when his mind drifts off even as he holds you in his arms at night. Still, he never complains.

The papers rustle as he sets them down on the coffee table where another high stack of books and documents sways as he moves past. You do as he says, a wave of dizziness blurring your vision as your head leaves the soft pillow. It prompts you to close your eyes again until you feel the steady presence of another body by your side. Soft lips brush your forehead, then your temple. 

“What do we do with this stubborn head of yours, tesoro?” 

“Chop it off?”

He chuckles. “Mhm, no. I don’t think so.”

You watch as he pulls the gloves from his pale hands, dark hair running all the way from his fingers to the sleeves of his black shirt. He pulls them up a little more, revealing his freckled forearms to you. For a moment you reach out, trailing the blue lines of his veins from the crook of his arm to his wrist where his pulse beats a steady rhythm against your thumb.

“Shirt off,” he says.

You’re too exhausted to joke about his commanding tone. Instead your numb, tingly fingers lift the hem of your shirt and pull it from your body. You fall against Copia for a moment, the pain pulsing through you once more. He holds you even as he slowly scoots behind your back, his strong thighs bracing your body.

 His hands only leave you as he squeezes some of the soothing ointment Primo prepared for you into his palm. The salve feels cool against your skin when he spreads it out evenly with nimble fingers. With ease they remember the movements and the right amount of pressure, so many nights he spent helping you through these pains. Expertly he smoothes out the knots in the tissue, rubbing the herbal-scented balm into your skin until you can feel the effects from your fingertips all the way to your head.

“Thank you, my love,” you whisper, closing your eyes in blissful relief as he runs his thumbs up your neck in a way that feels so good it makes you shiver. For another few minutes he continues like this, no words leaving his mouth apart from the occasional hum. When he notices the tension leaving your posture, he wraps his arms around your middle to pull you into his warm chest.

“No need to thank me, amore,” he whispers and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. “I will always be there to ease your pain.”

Thank you for reading! I hope it helped you ♡

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac # 22 : Monkey vs dragon

They meet Ao Lie and go on with the journey!

Macaque was curled up inside Wukong's heart-pocket, the golden-furred monkey called it like that because he sewed it right on top of his heart. The sage's heartbeat was the sweetest of lullabies, Macaque often than not found himself soothed by it. The pocket was comfortable, soft and warm, Macaque wouldn't mind spending the entire journey cuddled up there. Nonetheless, the black-furred monkey woke up when he smelled fruits, he stretched and straightened himself, his head perking from the pocket. Wukong patted his head affectionately the moment he saw him.

“Hey there, sleepy head. Here.” Wukong gave him some pieces of plums which Macaque nibbled on it. As he ate his fruits the black-furred monkey noticed how the sage was glaring at the monk, his eyes boring holes in the kid's back.

“You're still angry.” Mumbled Macaque.

“Of course I am! I protected him from thieves and he put this cursed circlet on my head!” Huffed Wukong, one of his claws flicked the golden headband tightly circling his head.

“... The headache sounded painful.” Whispered Macaque, he left Wukong's pocket and climbed him until he sat on top of his head. Then he saw how the flesh under the circlet was swollen and sighed, he began to apply a balm around the circlet to ease Wukong's pain. The sage sighed in relief and relaxed ever so slightly.

“It was.” Pouted Wukong, he crossed his arms, tail flicking in irritation.

“Let me talk to the kid, okay? I'll try to solve this.”

“Is there even something to talk about?” Grumbled Wukong.

“If we have to journey together, shouldn't we at least try to get along?” Replied Macaque, he took some strands of Wukong's fur and began to braid them by habit, Wukong's tail flicked happily and he let Macaque do as he pleased.

They walked until they came across a stream, Wukong called it the Eagle Grief Stream. They settled on the bank of the river, Macaque climbed down Wukong and took some of his vials to refill them with water. But the moment Macaque tried to touch the stream rippling surface a white dragon emerged from its depths. The golden-furred monkey threw away the luggages he was carrying and violently snatched Sanzang off his horse; he then carefully picked Macaque with his tail and ran behind nearby boddlers as the dragon gobbled up their horse.

“Master” Said Wukong with a hint of sarcasm, disliking calling someone master. “The dragon ate our horse.”

“W-what? But how can I travel West without a horse?? Are you sure it just didn't run away in fright?” Nervously asked Sanzang as he clutched his staff. “I'll never make it!” He whined.

“I have you know I have golden vision, you namby-pampy-”

“Wukong has great eyes, kiddo. He can see far and wide, he would know if the horse ran away.” Replied Macaque, cutting Wukong before he could say something harsher.

“... I'll just check for the dragon and try to get our horse back.” Sighed Wukong, he then looked at Macaque and groaned in frustration. “I'm sorry I yelled, Master.”

“Oh…I-it's okay. But you'll leave me? What if I'm attacked or a demon comes by or the dragon returns?”

“I'll stay with you.” Sighed Macaque as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Sun Wukong lingered a bit before kindly patting Macaque's on the head and jumping out of the boulders, staff in hands, ready to battle the dragon.

“He's really kind to you.” Observed Sanzang.

“Are you afraid of him, kiddo?” Sanzang flinched and averted his eyes. “Look, I understand him killing those thieves frightened you but the circlet business? That's not gonna solve anything. I'm quite angry at you for this actually.” Explained Macaque with narrowed eyes.

“But…how can I teach him Buddhism? He's… I can't control him. And Guanyin gave it to me…”

“How about I talk to Wukong about it? But you have to promise to not use the circlet again.” Compromised Macaque, he sat on the kid's knees, looked up at him and extended one of his lil paws. Sanzang stared at him for a bit before shaking Macaque lil paws with one of his fingers.

“I'll try, Mister Fairy.” Sighed Sanzang.

“I told you to not call me that.” Groaned Macaque as he threw his head back.

“But you really are like a fairy.” Mumbled Sanzang with a small smile.

Wukong returned shortly after, wet and frustrated, with someone new on his toe and Guanyin behind him.

“Bodhisattva!” Exclaimed Sanzang as he straightened himself.

“Fear not, Tang monk. The local spirits informed me of what was going on at Wukong's demand. I'm here to inform you the dragon is named Ao Lie, he was sentenced to death by the Jade Emperor for setting his father's palace on fire and will be redeemed if he accompanies you on your journey.” Then with a flick of the wrist Guanyin transformed the dragon into a pearl-white horse. Wukong was sulking, for some reason, and glaring at the bodhisattva every now and then. Guanyin paid him no mind and even gifted him three magic-imbued hair to help him on the journey. The sage mood was a bit better after receiving his gift. As Guanyin left on her auspicious cloud Ao Lie turned back in his human form and smiled at Sanzang.

“Hi! I am Ao Lie, pleasure to meet you.” Excitedly greeted Ao Lie, then his gaze fell on Macaque and his eyes widened in curiosity. He carefully grabbed Macaque and lifted him to his face to take a better look. “I never saw someone like you before.”

“I'm Macaque.” Nervously waved the black-furred monkey, he was lifted by the scruff of his neck before he could say more and held protectively in a very familiar pair of palms.

“Don't lift him like that.” Mumbled Wukong as he held Macaque close to his chest.

Macaque just hoped this new addition wouldn't bring any more chaos already.

+ cut scenes

Guanyin : Wukong why did you attack the dragon I hired him to go with you all on the journey? 🤨

Wukong : he attacked first! 😠

Ao Lie : omg you guys are the pilgrims? Sorry I ate your horse 🙏

Wukong : Does that mean I can't fight the dragon? 🥺

Guanyin : no 😑

Wukong : sad monkey noises 🥺

Wukong : Okay, the fight was kinda fun, maybe I can get along with this guy? 🤔

Wukong *see Ao Lie pick up Macaque* : this is war 😠

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[kana2025]

Jaehyun comforts Reader who has a headache

The dimly lit room was a sanctuary from the day's chaos, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh sunlight. You lay on the couch, a cool cloth draped over your forehead, trying to find relief from the pounding headache that had taken over your day.

The sound of the door opening caught your attention, and you turned slightly to see Jaehyun entering the room. His expression softened with concern as he saw you.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked gently, crossing the room to kneel beside the couch.

You managed a weak smile. "I've been better."

Jaehyun reached out, carefully brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "I brought you something," he said, pulling a small bottle of essential oil from his pocket. "I read that lavender oil can help with headaches. Do you want to try it?"

You nodded gratefully. He opened the bottle and gently massaged a few drops into your temples, his touch soothing and cool. The calming scent of lavender began to fill the air, and you could feel a slight easing of the tension in your head.

"How does that feel?" he asked, his voice low and comforting.

"Better," you murmured, closing your eyes. "Thank you."

Jaehyun sat down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "You know, it's okay to take it easy. You don't always have to push yourself so hard."

"I know," you sighed. "I just hate feeling like this."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Everyone has days like this. Just rest now. I'll be here."

You felt a wave of gratitude and warmth as Jaehyun settled next to you, his presence a soothing balm. With his hand gently stroking your arm, you allowed yourself to relax, the pain in your head gradually fading into the background.

In the quiet, you could hear the soft hum of his breathing, a steady rhythm that anchored you. "Thank you for being here," you whispered, feeling the tension in your body ebb away.

"Always," Jaehyun replied softly. "I'll always be here for you."

As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, you knew that with Jaehyun by your side, you could face anything, even the worst of headaches.

[musictooth]

Have you ever thought about Pete having muscle cramps, nosebleeds, sprains, fractures, abrasions, bruises and cuts. Skin infections, blisters. Itching, redness, and discomfort of the skin. Dislocated finger, shoulder or jaw. Busted knees, shin splits, genital injury. Rib, back, neck and elbow injuries. Collapsed lungs, herniated discs, spinal fractures. Broken nose and black eye. Dehydration, heat stroke. Headache, dizziness, confusion, nausea, and temporary memory loss due to concussion. Pain around the joints, discoloration of the skin, heavy bleeding, difficulty in swallowing and/or breathing.

Or have you ever thought about Pete being treated with gentle stretching, ice packs, cold compresses, warming liniments and balms, bandges and sterile gauze bads. Alcohol, anti-septic or anti-inflammatory medications and pain relief medications. Surgery followed by physical therapy. Reduction, immobilization, and rehabilitation. Rest.

I have.

[cynicalrosebud]

Echoes of Duty (COD Sentinel AU) - Locked In Scenarios

Series Masterlist

Aka locked in scenarios with each of the 141!

Being locked in refers to a Sentinel entering an intense sensory focus where they lose awareness of everything outside their primary sense. This hyper-focus makes them highly effective but vulnerable, as they become reliant on their Guide to help pull them back or ground them. It can happen due to stress, sensory overload, or a combination of both, making it a dangerous state if the Guide is unable to intervene. The bond between Sentinel and Guide is critical in these moments, as it allows the Guide to calm and redirect the Sentinel’s attention, breaking the “lock”.

Setting: Late evening in the safehouse, Price’s office

John Price sat hunched over his desk, piles of paperwork scattered in front of him. His head throbbed from hours of staring at mission reports, but it wasn’t the paperwork that was overwhelming him—it was the sound.

The safehouse, normally quiet, felt like an amplifier to Price’s heightened sense of hearing. Every creak of the floorboards, the distant hum of electronics, and the muffled conversations from the other rooms felt as loud as if they were happening right next to him. The overstimulation was unbearable, each tiny sound striking like a hammer against his already splitting headache.

He rubbed at his temples, trying to focus on the task at hand, but it was no use. He was drowning in a sea of noise, each sound crashing over him with increasing intensity. The tension in his jaw tightened.

“John?”

Y/n’s soft voice broke through the chaos, and though it was the only voice he could tolerate, even that sent a ripple through his heightened senses.

Price looked up, his gaze tired and strained. “Y/n... It’s too much.”

She moved toward him, recognizing the symptoms immediately. His senses were overwhelmed, the burden of his Sentinel abilities catching up to him. She could see it in the tightness of his expression, the way his fingers clenched the edge of the desk.

“I’ll help,” she said softly, already stepping close to him. “Close your eyes, and let me take it from here.”

Without hesitation, Price obeyed, closing his eyes and allowing her to take control. Y/n knelt beside him, her hands gently resting on his arm as she focused on guiding him, filtering out the barrage of sounds that were tormenting him.

“Breathe, John,” she whispered, her voice a quiet anchor amidst the noise. “Focus on my voice. Block out everything else.”

Gradually, the tension in his body began to ease as Y/n helped him narrow his focus, silencing the overwhelming flood of sounds. She created a bubble of calm around them, her presence a shield against the sensory onslaught.

The ticking of the clock, the soft rustle of papers, and even the faint sound of his own breathing began to fade into the background, muted by her careful guidance. Price could finally relax, the pounding in his head easing as the world around him became quieter.

“There you go,” Y/n murmured, her thumb tracing soothing circles on his arm. “Just my voice, John. That’s all you need to hear.”

Price’s lips twitched in a brief smile, the overwhelming strain lifting as he focused solely on her. The relief was immense, the silence she brought a balm to his senses.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes, his gaze meeting hers with unspoken gratitude. “You’ve got a way of fixing things no one else can,” he muttered, his voice low but sincere.

Y/n smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As she moved to stand, Price caught her hand, bringing it to his lips in a soft, lingering kiss against her knuckles. It was a simple gesture, but filled with depth—a thank you beyond words.

“Thanks again,” he said, his voice sincere.

Y/n nodded, her smile warm. “Take it easy, John. The paperwork will still be here tomorrow.”

Price chuckled softly, a hint of his usual confidence returning. “Aye, it will. And so will you, I’m sure.”

Y/n gave him a reassuring nod, turning back to him before leaving the room, “Always, John.”

Price watched her go, the echoes of her calming presence still lingering around him. His hearing had returned to its normal sensitivity, the overwhelming sounds that once plagued him now just a faint memory. But her voice—that remained, steady in his mind, a lifeline whenever he needed it most.

Setting: After a particularly grueling mission, at the team’s temporary base

The tension in the air was palpable as Kyle "Gaz" Garrick sat on the edge of his bunk, his hands flexing and curling into fists. His head hung low, shoulders sagging under the weight of the day. The mission had been brutal, close combat and intense physical encounters, but the worst part was the aftereffects.

For Gaz, it wasn’t just the mental exhaustion. It was his sense of touch—constantly heightened, always aware of every shift in the ground, every subtle movement of the air, every vibration through his gear. Now, after the mission, his body still screamed with the sensations that hadn’t let up, each one amplified, keeping him on edge.

He could still feel the recoil of every shot, the tension in every muscle he’d used, even the dull scrape of the rough fabric of his fatigues against his skin like sandpaper. It all grated on his nerves, his skin practically buzzing with overstimulation, as if his entire body was stuck in overdrive.

Y/n noticed him from across the room. She could sense the strain rolling off him in waves. His brow was furrowed, jaw clenched, his hands restless. She knew that look. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the mission—it was the burden of his enhanced touch, every tiny sensation amplified, overwhelming him in its persistence.

Quietly, she crossed the room, stopping just in front of him. “Kyle,” she said softly, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. “You’re feeling it, aren’t you?”

He didn’t need to answer, the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his hands, all spoke for him. His touch sense had been in overdrive all day—every hit, every jolt, every shift in his surroundings hammering him long after the mission had ended.

Y/n knelt down in front of him, placing her hands on his knees, grounding him. “Let me help.”

Gaz let out a shaky breath, his hands dropping into his lap, the tension still humming under his skin. “It’s like I can’t turn it off,” he admitted, his voice rough with fatigue. “I can still feel everything… every punch, every damn vibration. It’s too much.”

Y/n nodded, her hands gently wrapping around his, fingers brushing his palms. “Focus on me,” she said softly, sending a pulse of calm through their bond. “I’m going to help filter it out. You don’t need to feel everything right now.”

He exhaled, trying to let go, focusing on her touch. Her presence began to take hold, like a gentle wave washing over him, dulling the sharp edges of his overstimulation. Slowly, she helped him narrow his focus, channeling the chaotic flood of sensation into something more manageable, more bearable.

Kyle’s breathing evened out as Y/n guided him, her touch grounding him in the present moment, smoothing away the strain. The vibrations running through his muscles began to ease, the overwhelming sensations gradually quieting as she worked.

“Better?” she asked, her voice soft but firm, still holding his hands in hers.

“Yeah…” Kyle’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the relief was clear in his tone. “Feels like I can breathe again.”

She smiled, her hands giving his a light squeeze before pulling back, though her presence remained a steady, soothing hum through their bond. “That’s the point. You don’t have to carry all that weight alone, Kyle.”

He looked at her, gratitude clear in his eyes, though his words came slow and soft. “Thanks, Y/n. I… don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d figure it out,” she teased gently, standing up. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

As she started to leave, Kyle sat up a little straighter, finally starting to feel like himself again. The overwhelming edge of his heightened sense of touch had receded, leaving only the steady pulse of relief in its wake.

Setting: Safehouse, post-mission late afternoon

Ghost sat in a darkened corner, his mask pulled down, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes were shut tight, jaw clenched as if holding back a flood. The mission had been brutal, but it wasn’t the fight that weighed on him now. It was his enhanced sight—always a gift on the battlefield, but a curse when he couldn’t switch it off.

Every detail, every flash of light, every movement in the room felt like a knife in his skull. He could see too much—the shifting shadows, the glint of metal from across the room, the smallest flicker of the fire. Everything was magnified, overwhelming, burning through his already frayed nerves.

Y/n had seen him like this before. She moved silently across the room, feeling the waves of tension and frustration radiating off him. Ghost’s senses were overstimulated—his enhanced vision had been pushed to its limits during the mission, and now, without the adrenaline of combat, it was threatening to shut him down.

She knelt beside him, her presence a calming force. “Simon,” she whispered, her voice soft and grounding, cutting through the overwhelming flood of sensory input.

He didn’t move at first, his breath coming in shallow, measured bursts. His eyes stayed shut, as if opening them would make everything worse.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” she asked gently, her hand resting lightly on his arm, letting him know she was there. He didn’t need to answer—she could feel it in the tension rippling off him.

“Too bright,” he muttered after a long pause, his voice rough. “Everything’s too damn bright.”

Y/n nodded, already reaching out with her Guide energy, her calming presence washing over him like a cool breeze. She could feel the overstimulation, the way every flicker of light and movement pressed in on him. Slowly, she began to help him narrow his focus, dulling the sharp edges of his vision, bringing him back to a state of calm.

“I’m going to help you turn it down,” she murmured, her voice steady, soothing. “Focus on me. Block everything else out.”

Ghost exhaled shakily, his eyes still closed as he felt the pressure begin to ease. He focused on her—her voice, her touch. The overwhelming sensory input began to fade, the blinding details around him slipping away as Y/n helped him filter out the chaos.

Bit by bit, the tightness in his body began to release. His breathing slowed, and his muscles, once rigid, softened under her influence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes. The world no longer assaulted him with its overwhelming brightness. Everything felt softer, calmer, and most importantly, manageable.

“You did it,” Y/n said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Feeling better?”

Ghost gave a slight nod, his shoulders still tense but no longer coiled with that unbearable pressure. “Yeah… thanks.”

He didn’t need to say more—his gratitude was clear in the way he relaxed under her touch, in the way his gaze softened just a fraction as he looked at her.

“I’m always here, Simon,” she reminded him, her voice firm but gentle. “You don’t have to fight it alone.”

Ghost gave her a brief nod, the words sticking in his throat. He wasn’t one for emotional displays, but he didn’t need them with her. She knew.

As she rose to leave him to rest, his hand shot out, gently catching her wrist. His dark eyes, still shadowed beneath his mask, met hers.

“Stay.”

It was a single word, rough and unpolished, but it was enough. She nodded, sitting back down beside him. The two of them sat in the quiet, the bond between Sentinel and Guide humming softly, soothing the storm that had once raged in him.

Setting: Early afternoon, training grounds

The sun beat down on the training grounds, dust kicking up as Soap MacTavish barked orders at a group of recruits. He had been running them through drills for hours, but their performance was sloppy at best. His patience was wearing thin.

"Come on, ya daft lot! Get it together!" Soap shouted, his voice carrying across the field.

The recruits scrambled to fix their formations, but the disorganization grated on his nerves. The sharp scent of sweat, gun oil, and dirt filled his senses, mixing with the frustration that had been simmering all morning. For a Sentinel like Soap, with his heightened sense of smell, the intensity of it was suffocating.

Each recruit carried a unique scent—some were nervous, others exhausted, and a few reeked of fear. It was overwhelming, bombarding his senses with a cocktail of emotions and adrenaline. The anger in his chest grew as the stench of failure filled the air.

Soap slammed his fist into the nearby post, startling the recruits as he tried to ground himself. But the smells were too much, too sharp, too strong. He couldn’t block them out, couldn’t focus.

"Jesus Christ, ye smell like shite!" he snapped, earning a few nervous glances from the recruits.

That was when Y/n, sensing the shift in his emotional state from the other side of the training grounds, made her way over. She could feel the anger radiating from him, his frustration feeding into the intensity of his Sentinel senses.

When she approached, Soap immediately caught her scent—calming, familiar, like fresh rain after a storm. The chaos of the training ground faded, and for a moment, all he could focus on was her.

"Johnny," she said softly, coming to stand beside him. "You’re pushing too hard."

Soap grunted, his jaw clenched, but didn’t respond. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of dirt and sweat still lingering in the air around them, the tension in his muscles refusing to ease.

Y/n stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Let me help," she offered, her voice calm and soothing.

Soap glanced at her, the familiar scent of her presence already starting to work its magic. He nodded once, reluctantly, as if ashamed to admit he needed it.

She took a deep breath, extending her Guide abilities to him, her touch grounding him. Slowly, she helped him filter out the distracting smells—the overwhelming mix of sweat and fear that clouded his senses. Instead, she focused his attention on more neutral, calming scents. The earthy smell of the grass beneath them, the faint tang of gunpowder that always lingered around Soap’s gear, and most importantly, her own scent, which had always been a source of comfort to him.

Gradually, the tension in his body began to ease. His breathing steadied, the overwhelming sensory input fading to a manageable level. The anger and frustration that had been bubbling inside him dissipated, replaced by a steady calm.

"Better?" she asked, her thumb lightly brushing against his arm.

Soap exhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a moment as he savored the reprieve she’d given him. "Aye, much better."

Y/n smiled, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Good. Now take it easy on them, yeah? They’re new."

He let out a short laugh, the sharp edge of his temper softened. "Aye, but they still smell like fear. It’s distractin’."

She chuckled softly at that. "Not everyone’s as fearless as you, Johnny."

Soap’s lips twitched into a grin. "Damn right."

As Y/n began to step away, Soap reached for her hand, his grip gentle but firm. He brought her knuckles to his lips in a soft, grateful kiss, lingering just long enough to convey his thanks.

"Thanks, lass," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers.

"Anytime, Soap," she replied, giving him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the recruits.

As she moved away, Soap’s eyes followed her, the lingering scent of her calming presence still anchoring him. He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he looked back at the recruits.

But a new thought crossed his mind as he watched her scold the recruits for their lack of focus. The way she handled them—firm but fair—left Soap wondering what she’d be like as a mother, especially to the 141’s future children. The image made him smirk, a sense of warmth filling his chest.

"God help the poor bairns if they take after me," he muttered to himself with a chuckle before turning his attention back to training.

[archonsoflove]

his love language | part 3

featuring: cyno, tighnari, diluc x gender neutral! reader

{appreciation}

Cyno was, by far, the most unusual man you had ever met. Your expedition into the desert on behalf of the Akademiya had been gruelling, to say the least, and meeting the Mahamatra of all people had been a shock to your system.

But he had been your saving grace, safely escorting your group to the ruins you were after. You’d been off course by a few kilometers.

“Do you know why we all have such dry skin out here in the desert when working?” he had asked you, the threat of a smile glimmering in those violet eyes. “Because we have no elbow grease to put into it.”

Your partners had groaned in protest behind the two of you, but Cyno didn’t miss the small smile fighting against your schooled features. 

“I thought you hated my jokes. But I panicked and told them for the rest of that journey!” Cyno laughs about it now, shaking his head. 

You bumped shoulders with him, a light blush dusting your cheeks. You sat knee to knee in front of a fire, the stars bright in the desert sky.“I am just as silly as you for appreciating them so much.That’s what makes us so goof together, don’t you think?”

You would never tire of his jokes, no matter how much Tighnari and Collei complained. They were simply so Cyno, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Whenever he would be called for work, you’d be left at home with your books for a few weeks, finding a few jokes every now and then to store away for his return. 

He had travelled by boat to the borders of Sumeru and Natlan, and you had the perfect joke in mind for his return:

  “Where do boats go when they’re sick?

The boat doc.”

•

{shared interests}

All Tighnari had even known his entire life was the forest. Foraging, hunting, and studying were in his nature, and sharing this part of himself with you was his greatest treasure. 

You had never been one to hunt, and ran headfirst into the desert ruins, filled with theories and rich history in the house of Vahumana instead. The forest was quite a change of pace.

“I am not too sure this is a good idea…” you faltered, your hand on the recurve bow shaking ever so slightly as Tighnari helped you knock the arrow and pull it back with the other.

His hand tightened on yours, the soft pads of his fingers warm on the back of your hand. Your arm steadied and you took a deep breath in. 

“See?” you could hear the smile in his voice as he helped you aim. “You’ve got this. Now just…”

He let go of you and took a step back. He stood behind you, arms crossed and watching proudly as you finally took your shot. The arrow was off by an inch as it flew past the bundle of Zaytun peaches ahead. 

You sighed in relief, handing the bow back to the forest ranger immediately.

 “While you look incredibly cool, I have a feeling that crossbows might be my forte.”

Tighnari laughed and brought you in for a hug, a hand reaching up to brush hair away from your face. “Then that’ll be what we try next.”

•

{acts of service}

Diluc, whether it be due to his publicly stoic nature, or the past weighing heavily on his shoulders, is only open with his affection towards you behind closed doors. 

You dote on him terribly. Finding him up late in his study most nights, eyes darkened with fatigue, a cup of tea or simply a steady and quiet presence next to him, watching him pour over document after document is enough. 

“You should come to bed,” you gently say, a hand brushing disheveled red hair from his face. 

Unwilling to argue for once, he’d allowed you to escort him happily ��� and far too giddily for so late – into the adjoining bathroom. A bath had been drawn and the soft scent of Cecilia oil was a soothing balm to the tension headache building behind his eyes. 

MASTERLIST

It was in thoughtful moments like these that he felt most in love with you. After years of living by himself, trapped in that dark place broiling with revenge, he had now found peace. And knowing you’d be there to look after him, and see him through his worst days, made his heart feel just that little bit lighter.  

-------》 part 4

[sexsylexi]

Relief from the stress.

Dick grayson x reader

Summary-

Overwhelmed by work and looming deadlines, you find yourself spiralling into stress and anxiety. Dick, your supportive boyfriend, notices your distress and gently pulls you away from your chaotic desk to offer comfort. With the help of his loyal dog, Haley, Dick takes you for a calming walk, reminding you of the importance of taking breaks and not facing challenges alone. Through tender kisses and reassuring words, Dick helps you regain a sense of peace and determination, proving that with love and support, you can conquer anything.

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

The clock ticked menacingly on the wall of your home office, its steady rhythm only serving to heighten your anxiety. Papers were strewn across your desk in a chaotic manner, a testament to the tumultuous workload you had been grappling with. The deadlines were looming, and every passing minute seemed to add another weight to your already overburdened shoulders.

You rubbed your temples, feeling the dull throb of an impending headache. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to get ahead of the tasks piling up. The stress was consuming, a relentless force that made even the simplest of tasks feel insurmountable.

In the midst of your turmoil, you barely noticed the quiet sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway. It wasn't until a gentle hand touched your shoulder that you were jolted out of your frantic thoughts. You looked up, meeting the concerned blue eyes of Dick, your boyfriend and unwavering source of support.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging in your mind.

You sighed heavily, slumping back in your chair. "I don't know, Dick. There's just so much to do, and I can't seem to make a dent in any of it. I feel like I'm drowning."

Dick's expression softened as he took in your exhausted state. He knew better than anyone how much pressure you put on yourself, and it pained him to see you struggling like this. Without a word, he gently pulled you to your feet and led you over to the couch, guiding you to sit down beside him.

"Close your eyes for a minute," he instructed, his voice low and comforting.

Reluctantly, you did as he asked, feeling the tension in your body begin to unwind ever so slightly. Dick's hands found their way to your shoulders, his thumbs working out the knots that had formed there. You let out a soft sigh of relief, the sensation of his touch helping to ease the burden you were carrying.

"You're working too hard," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "You need to take a break, let yourself breathe."

"I can't," you whispered, your eyes still closed. "There's too much to do."

Dick's hands stilled for a moment, and then you felt the press of his lips against your temple. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of love and care that brought tears to your eyes. He moved to kiss your cheek next, the soft brush of his lips a silent promise that you weren't alone in this.

"You don't have to do everything by yourself," he said softly. "I'm here for you, always."

You opened your eyes then, meeting his gaze. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache with love for him. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Let me help you," he whispered before closing the distance, capturing your lips in a gentle, reassuring kiss.

The kiss was slow and sweet, a reminder of the strength of the bond you shared. As his lips moved against yours, the tension in your body melted away, replaced by a sense of calm and security. Dick's hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek.

When he finally pulled back, you felt a sense of clarity that had been missing all day. Dick smiled at you, his expression filled with love and understanding.

"Better?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Better."

"Good," he said, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's take a break. We can tackle everything together later, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, feeling lighter than you had in days.

Just as you were settling into the comfort of Dick's embrace, a soft whine caught your attention. Looking down, you saw Haley, Dick's loyal dog, sitting by your feet with her head tilted and her big, blue eyes filled with concern. The sight of her brought a fresh wave of emotion, her unconditional love and innocent concern a reminder of the simpler joys in life.

"Hey, Haley," you murmured, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. She leaned into your touch, her tail wagging slowly. Haley had an uncanny ability to sense when either of you were stressed or upset, and her presence was always a comforting one.

Dick chuckled softly, his hand moving to stroke Haley's head. "She knows something's up. She always does."

Haley responded to his touch by nudging her nose against his knee, a soft bark escaping her as if to agree with him. The moment brought a smile to your face, the tension in your chest easing further. It was impossible to stay entirely stressed with Haley around, her gentle nature and unwavering loyalty a constant source of comfort.

"Come on," Dick said, standing up and offering you his hand. "Let's get out of here for a bit. Take Haley for a walk, clear our heads."

You hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the piles of work on your desk. But the look in Dick's eyes and the hopeful wag of Haley's tail made the decision easier. You took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

"Okay," you agreed, feeling a sense of relief at the thought of a break. "Let's go."

The three of you made your way outside, the fresh evening air a welcome change from the stuffy confines of your office. Haley trotted happily beside you, her leash held loosely in your hand. Dick walked close on your other side, his hand resting gently on your back.

As you strolled through the quiet streets, the stress and anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of peace. The stars twinkled overhead, and the rhythmic sound of Haley's paws against the pavement was soothing.

"See?" Dick said softly, his eyes shining in the dim light. "Sometimes all you need is a little break and some fresh air."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words. "You're right. I just... I get so caught up in everything, and it's hard to step back."

Dick stopped walking, turning to face you. He took both of your hands in his, his gaze steady and reassuring. "I know you do. But you don't have to do it alone. I'm here, and so is Haley. We'll get through this together."

You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Dick. For everything."

He smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "Always," he whispered against your mouth.

Haley barked softly, drawing your attention. She had found a stick and was wagging her tail expectantly, her eyes bright with excitement. Dick laughed, bending down to take the stick from her and throwing it a short distance. Haley took off after it, her joy infectious.

As you watched her play, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. With Dick and Haley by your side, you knew you could handle anything. The weight of your work seemed less daunting, the deadlines less menacing. You had love, support, and a reminder that sometimes, all you needed was a little break and the warmth of those who cared for you.

When you returned home later that night, you felt renewed. The tasks waiting on your desk no longer seemed like insurmountable obstacles but rather challenges you could face one step at a time. With Dick's hand in yours and Haley curled up at your feet, you knew you had everything you needed to get through it.

As you settled back at your desk, Dick kissed your temple once more. "Remember, I'm right here if you need me," he said softly.

"I know," you replied, squeezing his hand. "And that makes all the difference."

With a final, reassuring kiss, Dick left you to your work, his presence lingering like a comforting shadow. You took a deep breath, feeling more capable and determined than before. The storm had passed, and in its wake was a calm, steady resolve to face whatever came next, knowing you were never truly alone.

[callsignfate]

Kate Laswell Fluff One Shot - sleep.

(I wrote this a bit ago because I was sad and exhausted, but here you go. This can be read as Gn!reader x Laswell, I think.)

Masterlist/ More like this/ Request

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

The quiet and welcoming atmosphere of your small house embraced Kate as she entered, her exhaustion from the day weighing heavily on her shoulders. The soft light over the sink and the living room lamp, always left on for her, provided a comforting sense of security. She appreciated your thoughtful gesture, knowing that you were always mindful of her safety incase of intruders, even in the mundane moments of daily life.

With a sigh of relief, Kate set her keys down and began to shed her jacket, feeling the tension of the day slowly melting away. The kitchen island was tidy, cleared of the remnants of the morning's breakfast. Saturdays were your designated cleaning days, a routine you had established to ensure that Kate's return home was always a pleasant one. It was your way of demonstrating care and support, even in her absence.

As Kate took in the immaculate state of the house, she couldn't help but smile. It was clear that you had been hard at work, keeping everything neat and orderly. Kate's work schedule rarely allowed her a day off, so the prospect of having Sunday and Monday free was a rare and precious gift. She looked forward to sharing this time and surprise with you, a break from the demands of her job.

Kate's smile deepened as she noticed the small bowl of food and the little pink note waiting for her on the kitchen counter. Your thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze her. She carefully picked up the note, reading the loving message.

"I waited as long as possible, I hope it's still warm when you come home! -Love you."

The simple yet heartfelt words were a soothing balm to her tired mind. She folded the note and tucked it into her jacket pocket, where she planned to put it with the collection of your other notes over the years. Each one was a precious reminder of the love and care you had for her.

With her jacket hung up and her keys set aside, Kate finally released her hair from its ponytail. She let her long locks cascade down her shoulders, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to alleviate the stress and pressure headache that had been bothering her all day.

Her footsteps were soft as she made her way down the hallway to the bedroom you both shared. She felt the weight of the day lifting as she moved closer to the place where she could find solace and comfort in your presence.

The soft, ambient light in the bedroom bathed the room in a gentle glow as Kate quietly entered. Her heart warmed at the sight of you sleeping peacefully, your limbs haphazardly arranged as you once again occupied her side of the bed, facing away from her and the door. It was a familiar sight, one that never failed to amuse her.

Suppressing a soft chuckle, Kate moved closer, careful not to disturb your slumber. She gently maneuvered your arms and pushed your legs over with hers, creating a space for herself in the bed. As she curled her body around yours, she couldn't help but smile at the sense of familiarity and comfort that washed over her.

Your sleep-induced mumble of her name was music to her ears. "It's me," Kate whispered softly, her arms wrapping around you as she planted a tender kiss on your shoulder blade. She loved these moments when she could come home to you, finding comfort in the warmth of your embrace.

As you turned over in your sleep to face Kate, your drowsy eyes blinked open, still heavy with the remnants of sleep. Your hand found its way to her cheek, your thumb beginning its soothing and rhythmic motion across her skin. It was a gesture of affection that never failed to calm her.

Your soft, tired mumbles filled the air, a hushed declaration of how much you had missed her. Kate's heart swelled with love and tenderness as she leaned in, resting her forehead against yours. In this quiet and intimate moment, words were unnecessary. The connection between you both spoke volumes, conveying a love that transcended words and filled the room with warmth and comfort.

"I missed you too," Kate whispered in response, her words filled with affection as she nestled closer to you. In the quiet hours of the night, when she was supposed to be sleeping too, she often found solace in simply listening to your soft breathing and the occasional mumbles that escaped your lips whenever you stirred. It was in those moments that she truly felt the depth of your love and appreciation for her.

Your sleeping form, with your legs entwined around hers, brought a smile to her face. She often teased that you did it to prevent her from leaving, but in reality, it was a comforting embrace that made her feel safe and loved.

"I don't have work tomorrow, or Monday," Kate announced, her words tinged with excitement. She placed a loving kiss on your forehead, then your temple, feeling your body respond with a gasp of delight. Your mention of a date you owed her filled her heart with joy.

"I love you too," Kate whispered, her voice filled with tenderness as you both settled back into the peaceful embrace of each other's arms. In that moment, you knew you were exactly where you belonged, peacefully safe and deeply loved in her embrace.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Masterlist/ More like this/ Request

[kiiwiigii]

Night-Time Reading

Alec x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are having a rough day managing your POTS/CFS. All you want to do is relax and Alec is there to help.

Warnings:

Fluff! Nothing but tooth rotting fluff.

Word Count: 400+

Requested?: Yes!

So I'm going through a really rough time, I'm disabled (pots and CFS) and my cfs is acting up badly cause school started and I've been so busy I haven't had a break period, constantly walking and running and being busy. now I have a three day weekend so my body is letting myself feel the consequences of pushing myself too far, so I was wondering if I could suggest some comfort? Alec with a mate that either has cfs or just has some symptoms and just him keeping them as comfortable as possible while they're in pain Common symptoms (including the ones I'm going through) - joint pain (I can barely go up stairs and walk -extreme temp fluctuations (really hot to really cold quickly) -brain fog (brain is foggy. I'm too weak to open a bottle of coke so I left it open and while talking I tipped it over and forgot it was open) -migraines/headaches -sore throat -trembling -really tired but can't fall asleep and/or sleeps for a really long time Thank you for listening 🫶🏼 -🦊

A/N: Hey nonny! I am so, so sorry it has taken me this long to write this. Honestly, I was (and still am I suppose) intimidated to write this, simply because these illnesses are not something I am not even remotely familiar with. But I also want to thank you because it's a good writing exercise for me. I'm also sorry that you're having such a rough time. I can't even imagine. So here's a fic, just for you, darling. I hope you're feeling better.

Another A/N: So the wonderful and amazing @alecvolturi did an amazing edit of Alec reading the first bit of The Hobbit. Please give it a listen as you read. It's PERFECT.

Miserable.

I was fucking miserable.

It began just by sitting up. I could feel the migraine building, and I was already in the throws of a hot flash. It didn't help that the pain in my joints was flaring up again.

It was 3 a.m. and I was already this close to crying. I couldn't remember the last time that I had a proper nights sleep. I just wanted one day, one day where I didn't have to be in pain or worry that any movement I made would set off a whole other series of symptoms, all of which almost all of them were painful.

"Darling?" Alec was next to me, his cold hands running over my heated skin, trailing goosebumps behind in his wake.

His hands were a sweet, cool balm on my flushed skin. It gave me a little relief. I leaned into him, enjoying the cold. His lips pressed to my forehead.

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

"7 to 8." I mumbled.

One would think with how long that I've lived with this disease that I would have a high pain tolerance. That couldn't be further from the truth. I could already feel a few tears slipping from beneath my lashes. I just wanted something to make the pain go away.

I whined as Alec disappeared, only to reappear with my meds and a bottle of water a moment later.

"Here, drink." He handed me the pills and water, and I took them gratefully. He pulled the comforter from the floor where I had kicked it off, bundling it back up on the bed for us to lay down on. He then grabbed my phone, pulling up my favorite playlist, the one he made for me to help me calm down when I felt like shit. The music started flowing through the speaker near my bed at a low volume.

"What book, darling?" His eyes were already scanning my bookshelves.

"Uhm…" I blinked back at him slowly, trying to process what he said.

"How about The Hobbit?"

"Perfect." I rasped with a small smile.

He was next to me again in a flash, his back against the headboard as he pulled me gently to him, a pillow already ready in his lap.

"In the hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit." His voice lilted over me, and I felt myself begin to relax as his hands gently ran through my hair and along my neck.

The fine mist that signaled the use of his gift began to unfurl from his fingers and I felt myself begin to numb. The first time he had done this it had been disconcerting, but now I welcomed it with relish. A small reprieve from the pain. I smiled to myself, letting my eyes slip closed as I listened.

Then finally, sleep came for me.

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3r @rosedpetal

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[lespetitesmortsde]

short hair laudna? it's been making the rounds

It's been a minute since you sent this, but yes, love short-haired Laudna. This takes place circa episode 65 with (apparently) some elements of 77 thrown in. Now, here's the thing. I fully intended this to be a short and fluffy little thing. We're talking like the 1,000 words realm of things, if that.

What happened, you see, is that Laudna went "what if we had a long overdue conversation?" and Imogen laughed at me. So instead, you get this thing which has some light-heartedness and they at least start to discuss some feelings in the kitchen because conversing in the kitchen is domestic AF and I love that for them.

For full disclosure, I haven't seen episode 77 yet, but I have been informed that there are some similar themes/topics happening.

You can read it on AO3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51582754

Call Me a Midlife Crisis

It was getting late. Imogen craned her neck to see a few extra inches to the left through the window in Zhudanna’s kitchen. Laudna should’ve been back by now.

She’d just gone into the market for a couple of crafting supplies, she’d said. “Oh, just a bit of string, maybe some yarn, and of course I need to see what they have for fabrics now. They were awfully short when we were here last.”

Imogen had offered to accompany her, given how easy navigating the populace was now that she’s got the circlet on, but Laudna had gently rejected her offer. She’d wanted to pick something up for Imogen, too, and didn’t want her spoiling the surprise.

So, knowing Laudna as well as she does, it should’ve taken her two hours, three at most to get caught up in all the market’s offerings and make her way back. She was passing the four and a half hour mark.

“Do you want me to make you some tea, dear?” Zhudanna’s voice floated into the kitchen from the sitting room doorway. Imogen whirled around to meet her knowing eye.

“Oh, no, I’m okay, I’m sure everything’s fine,” Imogen lied, fighting to keep the trembling out of her vowels. Zhudanna didn’t need to know that every passing minute exacerbated her anxiety about Laudna’s safety.

“Well, alright dear, have a nice evening,” Zhudanna said and a few moments later Imogen heard the door to her room click shut.

Imogen looked over to the armchair in the sitting room where she’d been waiting for the first three hours. Her book still lay open on the end table, spine broken, and her glasses were haphazardly tossed beside it. She couldn’t even remember what was in the chapters she’d read.

Her fingers felt empty without Laudna nearby to hold, to reach for. The room felt cold without her constant movement, her fidgeting, the way her fingers moved relentlessly against her skirt, her hair, Imogen.

She reconsidered, for the sixth time, Sending to Laudna. Just to check in, make sure she’s alright. It had worked once over a short distance, even with Ruidus fucking things up. Maybe it would work again. And if it gave her a headache, that was fine, that would be worth it if it could confirm that Laudna was okay. That she was safe and on her way home.

Holding the bloodwell vial in her hand, she felt the prickle of power gathering at the ends of her fingers. Just as she reached to cast the spell, the front door opened and Laudna’s voice sang into the house, “Oh, Imogen!”

The spell fizzled out at her fingertips before she could fully let the magic out to cast it.

Imogen whipped her head over to the door so fast, lightning wavered at the edges of her eyesight. The relief she felt when she finally got her eyes on Laudna was an immediate balm and then her attention was taken instead by the shocking lack of hair against her shoulders.

Her mouth dropped open in a soft, “Oh,” as her eyes raked respectfully over the newly-exposed skin of Laudna’s neck, no longer covered with long black hair. Some of her hair was still pulled back into a loose bun held aloft with her favoured rock chisel, but her hair stopped short just past her chin. The streak of white had place of pride, no longer lost in the ocean of dark hair.

Imogen peeled her eyes away from the change to take in the rest of Laudna. She had one bag of purchases in hand and wore a shy smile on her face as she drank in Imogen’s expressions.

“I see you’ve noticed,” Laudna gestured to the new length with her free hand.

Imogen nodded dumbly, eyes wide, unable to string together any words at all.

Laudna’s expression turned fragile and hesitant. “Do you dislike it?” She entered the kitchen, still several feet from Imogen, and placed her bag on the counter.

And of course that would be Laudna’s automatic assumption, of fuckin’ course she’d automatically assume that Imogen was speechless because she couldn’t find any positive words to say.

It could never be that Laudna looked so gods-damned beautiful with this cute-as-shit new haircut that Imogen was scared she’d melt right into Zhudanna’s floorboards.

“Oh, honey,” Imogen said softly, rushing up to Laudna. “You look gorgeous,” the words tumbled out of her and Laudna lit up like her Dancing Lights. “I mean,” Imogen felt the blush warm her skin from chest to cheek, “you always look beautiful, sweetheart, but this suits you so well.”

Imogen wanted to savour the purple hue that adorned Laudna’s cheeks. “Are you sure? It was kind of an impulsive thing, thought a bit of a change could do me some good, you know?”

Laudna laughed and Imogen wanted to bundle it up around her like a comforting blanket. “Besides, I think I’m overdue for a midlife crisis, don’t you think? I’ve died twice, so I can probably have another one soon, too, if I want to. And everyone suggests buying a fancy new wagon or getting a haircut at that stage.” She gave a little twirl, her skirt swishing gently in the wake. “Maybe I’ll look at vehicles or horses next time.”

Imogen stepped right up to Laudna, holding her hand out. “May I?” she asked, looking from Laudna’s eyes to the hair and back.

Laudna’s pleased smile deepened. “Of course, darling, you can touch anytime. You don’t have to ask.”

“I want to,” Imogen replied. “Ask, I mean. Well, l – the touching, too.” She shrugged. “You know that you having choices is important to me.”

“I do,” Laudna said. “And I hope that you know that I will always choose you whenever I have the option.”

Imogen smiled and then brought her fingers to graze the ends of the hair. She ran her fingers lightly through the ends of the tresses. “Do you like it?”

Laudna considered, tilting her head to the side. “I think I do. It feels… freeing, in a way.”

Imogen slipped her fingers against her neck gently, clearly broadcasting her intentions so Laudna could say no.

Laudna didn’t say no. She leaned into the touch of Imogen’s fingertips, bare, warm against her skin.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” Imogen whispered, tilting her head up towards Laudna’s.

A wide grin spread across Laudna’s face and Imogen, for just a moment, wished that she didn’t have the circlet on. Wished that she could hear Laudna’s thoughts, dive into them like the ocean and drown in the music.

They have shared several kisses since their first, yesterday, beside the bakery stall. Imogen has been the one leaning in for them more often, asking for them. Laudna has been plenty affectionate back to her, of course, but she hasn’t initiated a kiss since their second one.

Not that Imogen’s been keeping track. Laudna tended to deposit kisses to her hair, her forehead, her cheeks. Sometimes, her lips grazed the backs of Imogen’s knuckles.

And she let the little bubble of insecurity float to the surface.

“Do… do you want to kiss me?” Imogen swallowed the at all that felt like too much at the end of the question.

Laudna reeled like she’d been slapped, the smile evaporating from her face. “What?” She blinked aggressively. “Imogen, do you think I don’t want to kiss you?”

Imogen felt her whole body flush. She admonished herself for being foolish, for being weak. Embarrassment filled all the space in her lungs.

Laudna knew how to understand so much more about Imogen with even less. Laudna pulled away, but didn’t let go of her.

“Oh, darling, I am so sorry that I have made you feel like I don’t want to kiss you.” Her focus on Imogen was intense, relentless. Imogen couldn’t do much else aside from stare back into those wide black eyes, reflecting all the love she felt in her heart.

“I can’t imagine it’s easy for you to be with someone like me, like this,” Laudna said softly. Imogen tensed, refutations surging to her lips.

“Please, darling, let me get this out,” Laudna looked at her knowingly and Imogen deflated, letting the retorts ebb back into the crevices around her heart.

“Nothing would make me happier than to kiss you for the rest of your life,” but there was an ancient sadness in the words, the echoes of loneliness that never went away, that waited for Laudna to return. Imogen abruptly frowned as she realised Laudna’s precise language. Your life.

“But I also understand that it can be jarring… to kiss someone like me. And I love that you’re willing to kiss me, love, how could I not? But I will never expect that of you and I will never force it upon you.” She cleared her throat and looked down at her hands on Imogen’s waist.

Imogen had never struggled so hard to keep her mouth shut.

“And I also understand… that it may not always be what you want. That I may not always be what you want.”

She tasted salt and copper on her tongue as she pulled her teeth out from the particularly bruising puncture wound she’d inflicted on herself.

“And that’s okay,” Laudna said, like it should put Imogen at ease, like it shouldn’t rip her heart out of her chest, still beating. “I will always give you everything in my power, my dear. And I hope you take it. Because you deserve to have a life. After all of this, after everything, you deserve a happy ending.”

Laudna tried to hide a sniffle in a watery chuckle. She shook herself out of it, put a smile on her lips two centimetres too wide.

“Which reminds me, I am sorry for not giving you the choice yesterday. I – I found that I was overcome by my emotions, by your belief in me, by your lovely but misguided opinion that I’m not a bad person, and I acted without thought when I kissed you.”

“Please don’t do that,” Imogen begged, voice thick and tears falling in rivulets down her cheeks. Her scars glowed dimly. “Please don’t apologise for kissing me, for showing me that you love me.”

“But Imogen –”

“No ‘but’s, Laudna. I don’t think I could take it if you were sorry about kissin’ me.”

“I – it’s – I’m just sorry I forced it on you!” Laudna spluttered.

Imogen was shaking her head before Laudna even finished. “If that was you forcing something on me, I want you to do that forever,” Imogen declared, eyes bright. “For all of your life.”

“Imogen–” Breathless, sad, maybe a little shocked.

“No, no, you got your turn to say something, now I’m gettin’ mine,” Imogen interrupted. “How do I get it through your thick, beautiful head that I love you?”

Reprimanded, just a little bit, Laudna argued, “I know that you love me.”

Imogen shook her head. “Okay, you know I love you, but I don’t think you understand what that means.”

Imogen ran her hands through Laudna’s shortened hair again and then placed her hands on each of Laudna’s cheeks. “Sweetheart, I love you so much.” She paused, caught herself, because she didn’t want to give Laudna any space to misinterpret what she was saying.

“I am so in love with you that my heart feels like it will burst when we’re this close,” she gestured to the mere inches between them. “Hell, even when we’re just in the same room and we make eye contact.”

Her eyes blazed into Laudna’s who didn’t seem able to move her focus away from Imogen. Imogen placed her hands on Laudna’s waist.

“I am so in love with you that I wish I could crawl into your chest and settle right down beside your hound and make my home within your branches and bones.” Laudna’s eyes were glassy, her jaw tight.

“I didn’t have much of a life before you, Laudna, and I wouldn’t have much of one after you, either – except I’m not going to let there be an after. Do you hear me? I don’t want an after; I won’t accept it. You are not one stop on my road to happiness.” She tried to let that sink in.

“Laudna, you’re the journey and the destination.” Imogen swallowed, soothing her suddenly dry mouth.

“I don’t have a happy ending unless you’re in it. I don’t want anything except for you.” She brought a hand back up to Laudna’s cheek. “So fuck Delilah if she’s back. She can’t have you. I won’t let her. I will do everything in my power – I will find a way to get that bitch out of your head.”

They let her words hang in the air for a moment.

“And what if she’s what’s keeping me… undead?” The fear is whispered into the scant space between them but it fills the entire room with a dull heaviness.

“We’ll find a way,” Imogen’s voice left no room for argument, before turning fierce. “You’re mine, Laudna, for as long as you want to be. And I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Ichor ran down Laudna’s cheeks. “Imogen,” the word so soft it barely disturbed the air. “Darling,” her voice was stronger now, she took Imogen’s hands in her own. “I’m already dead.”

A sob tore itself from Imogen’s throat. “No, you’re not!”

Laudna smiled sadly. “I am, Imogen. And I’m worried, as you might suspect, that you don’t really understand that.”

“Laudna, Laudna, Laudna,” her name left Imogen’s lips so quickly, like a fevered prayer. “You have died, I know that. Twice. And I know it was my fault the second time–”

“It wasn’t your fault, dearest, it was Otohan’s. Never yours,” Laudna’s voice was assertive, calm – everything that Imogen’s wasn’t in this moment.

“It was my fault. She knew. She knew I loved you, more than anything. Knew, somehow, that you’re my favourite part about the world.”

Indulgent, that’s the best word Imogen could find to describe Laudna’s face. “That’s very kind of you, Imogen, but that still doesn’t make it your fault. Otohan would’ve killed us all.”

Imogen needed her to understand. “But she killed you to get me to break – and I did Laudna, as soon as she threatened you, I folded like a sheet in the wind. And she killed you anyway.” She couldn’t stop crying.

“Exactly, darling,” Laudna’s voice was soothing. “It wasn’t about you. It was about her. It wasn’t your fault.” Her grip tightened around Imogen’s wrists. “The blame, the guilt you feel is misplaced, dearest.” She laughed, but there was no humour in it. “If you want to talk about fault and endangering the other, I think we both know that crown is mine.”

The mental image of Laudna in a crown, looking regal and – fuck – only distracted Imogen for a moment. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Laudna spoke so gently and her grip on Imogen’s wrists loosened. “Darling, if one of us is guilty of constantly putting the other in danger, surely you see it’s me? With her in my head? I broke your rock because of her.”

There has been enough time and distance since those horrible few days where Imogen was reeling from the betrayal she had never expected that Imogen was now able to see the truth. “Laudna, she broke the rock, not you. And it might’ve been a good thing to get it away from me, I don’t know. But you didn’t do that, sweetheart, she did.”

“Isn’t that worse? To know that I can’t stop her, that at any moment she can come out to play and there’s nothing I can do about it?”

“She needs you, Laudna. Whatever she does in your body, that’s what she does, not you. You’re not to blame for Delilah’s nonsense.” Imogen brought one of Laudna’s hands to her lips and kissed her fingertips. “You’re not the same and we’ll find a way to separate the two of you.”

Imogen wet her lips as Laudna took that all in. She looked at the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life beside and said, “I promise. You’ll get to live a life without her.”

Laudna looked down at her with ichor-welling eyes. Imogen faltered. “If – if you want to, that is, you don’t have to. But I’ll make sure you get the option.”

Imogen reached up and wiped away the ichor from Laudna’s face. Laudna leaned in against the press of her hand and held Imogen’s gaze. “Imogen, there is nothing in the world I could want more than a real, normal lifetime with you.”

“I want to kiss you,” Imogen said, smiling at the way Laudna lit up. “And if you want to kiss me, too, ever, there is nothing I would love more than you takin’ the initiative.”

“Are you sure, darling?” The words were hesitant, but Laudna sounded less convinced now than she’d been earlier that Imogen couldn’t possibly want to kiss a dead person.

“Do you want me to come kiss you? When I want to? Without asking?” Imogen asked instead.

Laudna nodded. “Of course.”

Imogen grinned victoriously. “Right back at’cha, sweetheart.”

She watched as Laudna seemed to go back and forth with herself and Imogen wondered idly, if she didn’t have the circlet, if she would have been able to build her mental walls well enough to stay out of Laudna’s thoughts. If they’d be too loud for her to stay away from.

“You’ll tell me, though? If you ever don’t want that? If you change your mind? I’d understand.” Laudna said, clenching and unclenching her fingers in between them.

“It won’t happen,” Imogen assured her, “but if it’ll make you feel better, then yes, of course I will.”

“You deserve options, Imogen,” Laudna stressed.

“I want you,” Imogen countered. “Gods know I don’t deserve you, but I want you anyway,” she said forcefully. “I don’t need any other options.”

Laudna was too busy sputtering, “You don’t – you don’t deserve me?”

But Imogen was ready for her, expected the response as much as she hoped it wouldn’t come. “Of course not. You coming into my life was the most important thing to happen to me. Ever. You are so kind and generous and wonderful and good, Laudna. I don’t understand how everyone isn’t in love with you, but I am so happy they aren’t.” She chuckled. “I’m so thankful those assholes don’t understand what they’re passin’ up, because it means I get to have more time with you and I am so selfish when it comes to you, honey.”

The flickering candles reflected their light in Laudna’s shimmering eyes and Imogen watched with hope as Laudna’s eyes closed and she rushed forward to kiss Imogen.

Imogen felt those cool lips on hers, felt long fingers slide along her scalp down behind her ear. She gasped at the gentle pressure Laudna exerted to pull Imogen’s mouth more ardently against hers.

She responded in kind, wound her fingers in the new length of Laudna’s hair, pulling her in. Their mouths moved against each other. Imogen nipped softly at Laudna’s lower lip, wrenching a rough hum of delight from that pale throat.

Imogen wondered what other noises she could pull from Laudna, what kind of orchestra she could conduct with this glorious woman as her instrument. She tugged slowly but firmly on the locks of hair still wrapped up in her hand.

A whimper. Imogen pulled back, to check, to make sure Laudna was okay, that she didn’t go too far. Laudna looked down at her, like prey staring down their hunter, as Imogen breathed heavily.

“Was that okay?” Imogen asked, keeping her hand in this new short hair that she loved.

Laudna licked her lips. “Do it again.”