#ecgleheart

@ecgleheart said: Is he sulking because he hasn't recieved any love from his sun lately ? Yes he is.

                  ϟ ––       ❝ Come here. ❞ His hands pull them into his lap, resting their head there, his fingers stroke their soft hair, gently, stopping for a second only to plant a kiss to their temple. ❝ I missed you. ❞ His tone is soft, low. ❝ I miss you everyday, every minute you’re not in my arms. ❞

* angry child noises *

@ecgleheart​ said: warning : federico's property. no touching or 🔪🔪 || accepting 

                    he grins widely, chuckles even before hands reach for the tip of the shirt, pulling it up a little so when his hands reach for it from behind it’s reachable, pulling it off, just so he can wear it again, the back of it now to the front, making their warning more visible. 

          ❛  mhmm ~  ❜

                    He is NOT ALONE in his suffering, that much he knows; they have tasted the agony, the ETERNAL torture of losing a BROTHER, of losing half a family even. It pains him, hearing their pain, the story of injustice and corruption leading to the loss of even an INNOCENT child, one who probably wondered for the reason of their murder before it happened, who cried and begged for their life, but CRUEL men are deaf, they have no ears for the innocent, only for themselves, their GREED and TARNISHED AMBITIONS. Liam knows. ❛  I’m so sorry, Fed! That’s–  ❜ He can’t even find the words; what happened to their family, it was UNFAIR, ugly! His hand finds their shoulder, squeezing firmly; words can’t express the rage he feels for them, for the injustice they have suffered. Attention and focus are with them even as he retracts his arm, yet unable to stop himself from peeking at the name of one of the many he has lost, one of the many scars to his soul and heart. In the dorsal of his wrist is a name engraved in ink to his skin, the name of a brother he LOST the moment he FOUND. Theo. ❛  It’s a...long story.  ❜ It’s his fault they wonder about it, and he only hesitates at the beginning; this man beside him is a brother, too, and they have shared with him what is probably one of their most precious secrets, it’s only proper he does the same, and besides, he trusts them with everything, even the most precious to him, even Theo. ❛  Me baby brother..  ❜ He starts, head lowering, gaze not parting the inked name, thumb brushing against it longingly. ❛  It was a bad day from the start– bad eight or so months even.. I couldn’t find anyone or anything’ I was lookin’ for, but I found him!  ❜ Now a smile graces his softening features, a mix of longing, pride and hurt on his face, in his voice. ❛  He was cryin’, no one was there, so I picked him up, pressed him against me chest, tried to calm him, rockin’ him, and he..calmed!  ❜ He has to look at them, a wider smile on his face, it’s like he was, and still is, proud of that, it still feels good, it still surprises him how he managed it back then. ❛  He started laughin’ at the faces I made, holdin’ me nose, sometimes pullin’ me lip!  ❜ A laugh now, a one that doesn’t live for long when he does his best to not crack down, not cry, and he quickly turns his face away, jaw clenching. ❛  I- They came and I- I hid with him! H-h-he was calm, he was okay! I decided t-to lure ‘em away but.....  ❜ God, he is so ANGRY, so hurt, he can’t control the thumb now DIGGING into his flesh. ❛  They caught us... I had him in my arms and then he was...gone!  ❜ It’s subconsciously when his arms demonstrate, moving as if he still has his brother in his arms, and then they don’t, and so his arms wrap around himself, just like the cold days after. He tells them how the bastards SUFFOCATED an eight-month-old child, MERCILESSLY stopping to let the boy have some air back into their lungs just to suffocate them again, and again, and again, all while he kicked and fought, trying to free himself just so he could free his baby brother, but he was weaker than now, weaker than them, and he could only BEG and PLEAD, cry for them to let his baby brother go! They can KILL him, TORTURE him, do whatever, but just let his brother live, let his brother go! They don’t, no! They let him WATCH until Theo is gone. ❛  That-t wasn’t e-enough!  ❜ He can barely speak now, tears running down his face, his voice is cracking, yet he holds on, doesn’t cry yet. ❛  When they brought th-that gas, I was...relieved! I thought I was gonna die with me baby brother!  ❜ He was wrong; they only poured it over the toddler’s corpse, forcing him to watch as whatever left of them turned to ASHES, refusing to even keep something for him to bury, to honor. ❛  He w-was only e-e-eight months and they BURNED him, F-Fed! They burned me b-b-baby brother, Fed! They... they...  ❜ Words can’t get out anymore; he can’t hold the cry in anymore, letting it all out, his shoulders jump with the failed attempts to stop, his arms tighten around himself as he lowers his head further, leaning forward, head almost at the level of his thighs.

     ❛  I just wanted t-t-to die, but w-wasn’t a-allowed even t-that!  ❜

         Distress, is genuine behind her eyes, despite her trying to hold it together. Caroline is not used to this sense of overwhelming helplessness. It had been drunken idiocy to begin with, her husband thinking the solution to supporting a child at his age, would be crime... and sure enough, it had ended with him getting into prison. 

           but now? now she was involved too. sheltering a convicted felon, worried cops would break down her door, knowing they’d search his wife and daughter’s home for him... he had broken out of prison, convinced that her father were plotting some sort of conspiracy against him, wanting him dead. 

@ecgleheart​​ asked: "I've got you" - cristina

help my muse wash off blood from their body | Accepting

Even in the warm of the steaming bath, Cristina had not once stopped quivering since she saw her new husband intervene with a man who just had grabbed her and tried to - 

The thought of it made her want to vomit again, though her mind wasnt quite sure how to react. She had not been able to say a word since it happened but was glad to have Federico wrap her in his arms and guide her back home. Where had he gotten so adept with a knife. That was rather different to fist fighting...wasn’t it?

One hand grasped desperately onto herself, curling inwards as the other was currently being washed by him. She remembered being held against the stinking man, being sprayed with water (what she had assumed was water), raising a hand to it and it coming back red as suddenly the man behind her dropped.

Blinking, she came back to the present again as he spoke to her. Blue eyes bore into his, holding onto those words so tightly. Yet she felt she didn’t want to leave her house again, not for a while. Cristina had always prided herself on her fortitude but this was just too much.

@ecgleheart​ asked: "I've got you" - maria

help my muse wash off blood from their body | Accepting

This all was a nightmare for Maria and her mind raced over it again and again as her son cleaned blood from her. Annetta had stitched the cut in her leg and changed her into a sleeveless nightgown,  and cleaned that but Maria had sent her away afterwards to distract Claudia. She thanked God that their children were none the wiser and that this could be cleared (and Federico summoned) without alerting them or Giovanni. What if this had been a lure to get her husband home?

The fact that her children were in the house terrified her more than anything else. The fact that she had killed someone hadn’t hit her yet, and not in the same way as it had when she was young. This was protection. 

               This is not the plan he had in mind; his men would have cleared a path for the assassin to flee on their own, all while he watched them from afar, and maybe a proud smile would have been decorating his features, a one that would say: you owe me.

     Not all plans go accordingly, that’s why one must have multiple alternatives, right? that’s what Marcus uses: an alternative, it’s not plan b, c or even d, it’s probably z.

     “ We’re leaving. ” those words alone would have been like to music to Elliot’s ears, but Marcus wouldn’t be Marcus if he doesn’t torment Elliot with his sudden decisions. “ Bring him with us. ” clearly an order, but Elliot has to sound his concern; their target is an assassin after all, an enemy. “ Now! ” he doesn’t leave any space for a discussion, and Elliot knows even without clear words that he has to do it on his own, no other man should see this, which is why everyone else beside Marcus, himself, his fellow bodyguard Thomas, and the assassin, is dead.

     It takes fine skills and focus to smuggle an almost dead man out of there and into Marcus’s mansion, a one where only he, Elliot, Thomas and the now needed health staff are allowed. they take care of their patient, they even sew back the severed fingers that they have preserved in cold temperatures enough to keep them viable; Marcus’s orders, and they do it all carefully, professionally; the idea of losing their lives is embedded in their minds should they make the smallest of mistakes, a price they can’t afford. “ Alright, dismissed. ” they can’t leave the house, but they are allowed to a spacious room, Thomas keeping an eye on them.

     “ He’s tough, I will give him that. ” there’s no effort spent when he admits their might, any other person would have been dead had they suffered what this assassin has, but he doesn’t waste more time on the matter, already diving into his work, still in the same room; he wants to see it when they wake up from their slumber.