Satan's sacrificial waterfall? That's what we're calling it?

The safehouse is unusually quiet.

Ghiaccio notices it first—not the silence, but the way you’re curled up on the couch, shoulders tense, breathing shallow. Your movements are slow, careful, like every shift hurts. He pauses in the doorway, irritation already bubbling up out of habit... before he actually looks at you.

This is for the ladies and trans-man on their period. I'm kinda on my period right now, so I thought about this. Love you my mosslings. Hope your period gets better.