#floggyfics

thank you to @carlos-in-glasses @ladyknight1512 and @actuallylemon for the tags! here is another whumpy snippet from the kindred spirit sequel, which I have decided to name Infinitely Yours!

The door to the chamber opens, then slams shut as soon as TK steps through. He puts a hand against the wood, and suddenly roots grow out from it, sealing it from the inside. Banging ensues as the guard requests—as respectfully as possible in this situation—for TK to open the door.

Carlos can't help the relief that floods him, though it is matched by panic and guilt in equal measure. Slowly, the man he would give his entire heart to—the man he has failed—turns around and faces him.

TK's expression crumples in an instant. "Carlos," he gasps.

Carlos hangs his head. "You... you shouldn't be here," he says, although it's more of a whimper with the way his voice trembles. He hates himself for the tears that drip from his eyes. He never wanted TK to see him this way—a weakened failure of a man.

TK is at his side in an instant, cupping his face. "What have they done to you?" he asks, voice eerily quiet with anger.

Only then does Carlos entertain the idea that TK's rage might not be pointed towards him. It's made easier to believe by the way TK is caressing his cheek and the devastated expression he wears.

A lump is steadily forming in his throat. "You shouldn't be here," he says again. "It isn't... it isn't safe."

thanks to @carlos-in-glasses and @smallbirdrising for the tags! From Infinitely Yours (medieval au):

All of a sudden, a small object is being pressed into his hand. Cold. Circular. Carlos looks at it and gasps.

"Tyler," he says, searching for a way to explain the ring in his hand, "I didn't mean for you to—"

TK kisses him hard, shutting him up. He kisses until Carlos has run out of air, and is forced to inhale while still locked against TK's lips. One of his favorite things—to breathe TK in. He doesn't think about when he'll get this next.

"Ask me," TK murmurs against his lips. He tastes of salt. They both do.

He hesitates. This isn't how he wanted it. It's nothing like he pictured. There's supposed to be a creek and a sunset and birds chirping overhead. They're supposed to be deliriously happy, not... not this. Not trapped in an impossible situation.

"I... I don't..."

"Ask me," TK pleads, voice growing stronger. "You know the answer, baby. Just say it." His hands tremble against Carlos' face, his neck. He's desperate for this in a way Carlos hasn't seen before. "I'll only let you do this if you promise me—" he closes Carlos' fingers as best he can around the ring— "that this is our future. Our only future."

thank you to @carlos-in-glasses @actuallylemon @smallbirdrising for the tags! from Infinitely Yours:

His gaze whips to the cell across from him, newly occupied. His stomach turns at the sight of Sir Raymond with a whip in his hand, poised to strike. Catherine has fallen to the ground at his feet, shielded bravely by Cooper. Each has a pair of manacles around their wrists.

The tip of it slices through the air with a harrowing crack. Cooper falls to the ground, hand over his face. He cries out.

Catherine sobs. "We—We don't know anything! I swear!"

Carlos jumps to his feet. Without thinking, he bangs the restraints around his hands against the cell bars. "Hey!" he tries to shout, fury raging in him like a fire. These two are innocent. He won't see them hurt like this if he can help it.

"Wait your turn, Reyes," Sir Raymond says, cracking the whip in the air. "There's plenty more where that came from." He continues to bring the whip down on Cooper, who barely possesses the strength to lift his arm over his face.

Carlos doesn't relent. He makes a nuisance of himself, uncaring of the ache in his bones. His efforts cause a cacophony of metal until Raymond shouts in frustration. He throws the whip to the ground and marches into Carlos' cell. Carlos barely has any time to be pleased with himself before Raymond is pinning him against the wall by the throat.

"Think you're so clever, don't you?" Raymond spits. His fingernails dig into the skin, leaving sharp divots in their wake. "You're on borrowed time, Reyes. If I had it my way, the worms would've gotten you the night of the murder."

thank you to @carlos-in-glasses for the tag! another bit from Infinitely Yours, the Kindred Spirit sequel:

He lunges, grabbing at whatever Paul has in his hands. The two of them topple to the floor in a heap. Normally, Paul would probably be able to out-wrestle him, but he has the element of surprise on his side.

"TK, wait—" Paul yelps.

But it's too late. TK's fingers curl around what feels like a small box. He lifts it in the air triumphantly. "Aha!"

Paul reaches for it again, but TK is quicker. He hops to his feet, then scrambles on top of the mattress. Only then does he take the time to examine it.

He has no idea why Paul would hide such a thing from him. The box is covered in navy velvet, no bigger than his palm. It's unassuming and doesn't seem like the clue that will break this whole thing open, but there's a hinge on the side. A container of some kind. He opens it.

"TK, don't—"

TK gasps. Inside the box, nestled in a small, pale blue pillow, is a ring. Silver. Simple. Something that someone might... might propose with.

He sinks to his knees on the mattress, lip trembling. Tears fill his eyes when he pulls the ring from its base and finds the engraving on it. A leaf that matches the design of the very circlet sitting on his head. It matches because it was meant for him. This ring is meant for him.

Because Carlos was going to ask him to marry him.

"No," he murmurs, clenching the ring in his fist. It sits cold in his palm, and he can't help but think that's fitting. "No. No, Carlos." He wipes at his eyes. It's no use. They might as well be waterfalls at this point, washing out his sadness. "Oh, baby..."

thank you @afiendishthingynisba @actuallylemon and @carlos-in-glasses for the tags! for my latest wip, the kindred spirit sequel:

Carlos kneels before TK, lowering his head in the ultimate show of respect he could give. He did all of it for him, and it is indescribably satisfying to know that out of all the competitors, his victories are what has put Texas in first place. The blood, sweat, tears—all of it for his prince.

TK places the crown of flowers on his head with a delicate touch, fingers brushing as much as they dare against Carlos' curls. Instantly, Carlos knows the crown was not just another symbol of victory meant to be handed out to the athletes—TK grew it himself. The poppies woven into its intricate braid are too vibrant, too beautiful to be grown with anything other than the prince's magic. Fiery oranges and reds stained with dark purples and blacks at their centers. Pure things being stained to make it more perfect than before.

Carlos feels himself heating up on the inside at the notion. He thinks, ridiculously, that this was all TK's design for him. TK put up with the royals, the manners, the endless hoops to jump through to please everyone and prove whatever it is they wanted to see, just so that he could stand here and crown Carlos the winner. He hates the decorum, loathes the formality. He rolls his eyes whenever someone points out his un-prince-like behavior. And yet, he did all of that for him.

"Sir Reyes," TK says, and Carlos tilts his head up to look at him. The look in his half-lidded gaze says everything that Carlos wants to hear. He's proud, he loves him, he wants him in every way. There's not a thing Carlos could do wrong. Nothing could sully this moment, or the way TK sees him. Carlos is his knight, his protector, his lover. His.

Carlos tilts his chin up further, imagining what it would be like to lean in and take him into a kiss. He holds himself back, but only just. When he refocuses on TK's face, it's clear the man is thinking the same thing.

"Congratulations," TK whispers, and it's only for him.

I've been thinking lately that perhaps when this is done being written (currently sitting at an unedited ~55k! wow!) I might commission an artist to do a little drawing of one of the scenes. if any of u have suggestions, lemme know ;) also hopefully one day I'll decide on a name for this bad boy

thank you to @afiendishthingynisba for the tag! from the kindred spirit sequel:

Pearce doesn't look fazed. He simply continues breathing heavily and leaning on TK's doorframe and taking up space in a place TK doesn't want him to. "I was out training in the fields—"

"So you thought you'd come dripping at my door?" he drawls, unimpressed. There is only one man in the world he ever wants to see sweat, and it's definitely not him.

"Ha, you're quite funny in the mornings. Anyone ever told you that?" He wipes his forehead with his arm, displaying what TK has to admit is quite the set of muscles. "I was thinking you and I could get breakfast before the games today."

Before he can ask why Pearce would want to do that, he enters his room uninvited. TK takes a quick glance outside, but neither of the typical guards are at their posts.

"I had the help sent away," Pearce says, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. "No worries about safety—" he pats his hip, where his sword is tied to his belt— "I would't let anything happen to you."

been trying to write a little every day! a snippet for today, from the kindred spirit sequel:

TK and Carlos exchange a look. Young love, he mouths at Carlos, waggling his eyebrows. It really hits TK now exactly how young. He's pretty sure Wyatt only just came of age a few months ago.

Carlos pulls him in, lips brushing against TK's, not quite kissing. He teases, as is his right—TK has teased him quite a bit these past few days. "You know, I wasn't expecting this when you told me you'd 'see me later'."

"Are you disappointed?" he asks, voice husky. Alone time for them has been so rare; perhaps Carlos was looking forward to something else.

But his lover smiles. There's excitement in his eyes, and TK knows that he's mirroring it. Change is right here, within the four of them. It's manifesting in connection between people who are not allowed to be so close to each other and yet have beaten the odds anyway. It might not be enacted for years yet, but now that each of them knows they're not alone, TK is certain that it's coming. It's inevitable. One day he's going to show every soul in this kingdom exactly what Carlos means to him, and he won't feel one ounce of fear for it.

thank you to @carlos-in-glasses @actuallylemon @afiendishthingynisba for the tags this week! I haven't been writing as much as I'd like, but hopefully I can still keep up.

"So," TK says while they share a quick midday meal, "has anyone ever told you that you have a gift for backhanded compliments?"

"My brother, in less words," Pearce deadpans. "Although, in terms of backhandedness, I'm looking at the master."

TK throws a bread roll at his head. "Shut up," he says with a small chuckle. He finds himself smiling and realizes in the next second that he normally jokes like this with Carlos. Suddenly, it feels like a betrayal for allowing himself to be happy, however fleetingly. A frown rolls in.

"Hey," Pearce says, nudging his foot under the table. He leans in. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he murmurs. He spreads his fingers out, rubbing his hands over the surface of the table in circles. The wood grain feels rough against his palms. "Just... worried. I, uh, really have a lot riding on this working. Obviously."

Pearce grabs his hand mid-motion. His grip is warm. His eyes... for once, TK sees nothing in them but a care that doesn't revolve around himself. "Whatever happens, we'll get through it," he promises.

Staring so intently at one another causes TK's cheeks to heat up. "Th...thank you," he says. Have his eyes always been so brown? So deep?

A tiny static shock in his fingers causes him to yank his hand away. He shakes it out. "Ouch. Wonder what that was," he says.

Pearce puts the edge of his cup to his lips, murmuring, "No idea. Suppose there'll be lightning later."