my poor darling

Mr Graves heals his hands, heals his back, heals his legs. He takes him to diners and repairs his clothes with a swish of his wand. When Credence still has a quarter-stack of pamphlets in his grip and the shadows of the skyscrapers shroud the streets, Mr Graves appears with a swirl of misplaced air to take them from him so Credence won’t get into trouble.

“Please,” Mr Graves begs one night, as he runs the tip of his wand along the rungs of Credence’s ribs, “Come with me. If she does this again – if I couldn’t get here in time – “

The waist of Credence’s trousers is sodden with his blood.

anonymous asked:

Hance, sleepy cuddles?

Lance staggered his way into Yellow’s hangar, Yellow swinging her head around toward him. Hunk glanced up from where he was reclined against Yellow’s toe, puzzling out a wire box and its inability to light up how he wanted it to. He smiled as Lance wandered over to him, swaying on his feet.

“How was one on one?” Hunk asked, setting his tools to the side as Lance approached.

Lance groaned, folding down into Hunk’s space. Hunk slipped a palm over Lance’s waist, steadying, and Lance sunk down into his embrace with a contented sigh. “I’m dead. This is my ghost, hey, what’s up, I’m Lance.”

“I told you not to volunteer. Shiro’s been practicing new drills with Allura,” Hunk said, laughing as he shifted Lance around on his lap until the perfect position was found. Lance tucked his nose against Hunk’s throat, sighing as he relaxed against the hold. Hunk picked up his wired box again, fiddling with it behind Lance’s back.

With a quiet hum, Lance said, “I’m gonna nap. You okay with that?”

“Sure thing,” Hunk replied, shifting a knee so Lance could sprawl easier. With a pleased rumble, Lance burrowed closer. Yellow trilled from above, curious, and Hunk clicked one of the buttons on the device. It didn’t light up. He frowned and fiddled with another, careful of jostling Lance too hard.

It wasn’t long before Lance drifted off, the tense line of his shoulders relaxing and his breath puffing even and slow over Hunk’s neck. Hunk clicked another wire into place, fiddled with the connection, and hit the button. Still didn’t light up. Yellow hummed, a quick image of the wire in another place flitting through Hunk’s thoughts.

“Huh, you’re probably right,” Hunk whispered, shifting Lance enough to get at the wire. Lance grumbled, clinging tighter to him, and Hunk rubbed his cheek against Lance’s hair in apology. The wire slid into place, Hunk clicked the button, and the light came on. Success! Yellow rolled congratulations over his thoughts. Hunk snapped the lid on the box closed, tossing it toward his workbench. With that done, he relaxed against Yellow’s toe, Lance settled warm against his front.

Maybe he’d get a nap in too.

Send me a ship and I’ll write you a smol


I haven’t forgotten for a moment. I still remember the day Cocytus fell. I will make them pay. I vow it.

I kind of love how cranky Sasha is during the entire Rhombus of Ruin demo.  Like, he’s (understandably) mad at headquarters for refusing his and Milla’s attempts to help with the kidnapping case.  He’s (rightly) angry that politics plays a role in that refusal.  He’s grumpy with Lili (or so he thinks) for burning stuff.  He’s disgruntled about the squirrels getting in the plane and at headquarters not installing an underground hangar despite his research proving it is a wise investment.  He gets annoyed and tells Razputin “Not now!” if you psi-poke him.  He is grumpy about Milla’s disco suitcase.  There may be other instances of him being cranky in the demo that I have not yet discovered.  He is just one big frowny ball of stern seriousness, and it really harkens back to Ford saying Sasha has no sense of humor when on a mission, and I love it.