#wanna rotate him in my head like a washing machine

[cherrylight]

hi. i miss him. a lot. too much actually. im so sorry. dave i love you more than words can even describe. i feel so bad though. why am i like this. ill give him the world. sending him rocks with cute sayings to throw at him. then gifting him the coolest turntables ever on this earth. or maybe a NEW polaroid camera..... what if i gift him both of them.... with a letter.... i dont think i can write letters for him i wont know what to do. i love him a lot though. boyfriend of the world.

[thatgoblin]

Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy x Rookie Reader Headcannons

Leon

At first you were in awe of your lead. THE Leon S. Kennedy was showing you the ropes and helping train you for the job you'd dreamed of. Hero worship was common in this line of work, but you did your best to keep it to a minimum. You didn't want to embarrass yourself after all.

In place of that hero worship came this insatiable need to make Leon proud. Whether it was memorizing and nailing every written exam or physical test, you wanted to earn his praise.

You worked hard, harder than almost everyone it seemed. Leon never saw you slacking and saw how serious you were about the job. Protecting people was what you had always wanted to do with your life.

So when the grades came back that you weren't doing so hot, you were mortified. How could you let this happen? You didn't slack off, you studied everything you could get your hands on, hell you watched instructional videos on YouTube before bed! But you still weren't making a passing grade.

You thought you would be okay with the physical part, but no matter how hard you trained, no matter the extra hours you put in, you just couldn't seem to get what everyone else did. The moves were simple, why couldn't you just grasp them?

The only thing you thought you had going for you was the firing range, but even that was less than acceptable. Every time you tried to do something the pressure got to you and you messed up. You were so busy trying to make sure you didn't fail Leon that you were failing yourself.

It was when you were called into your commanding officer's office to speak about your grades that you were sure you were done. You were given two weeks that were used for break to study and practice and retest. But you'd already had nearly four months and the best you could do was subpar.

You were in your room, packing your bags because you knew you were going to be kicked out of the program when Leon showed up.

"Hey, Kid, you leaving for break?" He asked as he leaned against the door frame of your dorm.

"Uh. . . No," you said, hanging your head in shame. "I'm flunking out. Figured that it would just be easier to pack my bag now than wait later till I was officially asked to leave."

"What? How are you flunking?" Leon asked, straightening up. "I watch you every day and you're one of the hardest working cadets I've seen."

"Hard work doesn't mean much when you can't apply it correctly," you said. "I can't get the fighting technique right, the written exams are all a bust, and I can't even shoot a gun right. I don't deserve to be here."

"Have you asked for help or for someone to tutor you? That's what I'm here for, you know," he said, moving into the room to sit on the bed next to you.

You stared at the floor as you took a deep breath, feeling all the insecurities come rushing through to the surface.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," you said. "I mean, I wanted to do it all myself without help. I wanted to make you proud that you were my lead. If I was always asking for help, what good does that do? It shows that I can't do something on my own and need my hand held like some baby."

Leon sighed as he folded his hands together between his knees.

"I get it. I do. Wanting to make your leader proud and show how good you are, but we're a team here. No one is by themselves. You're only so good as your team is and if you're not doing well then that's a reflection on us," he said.

"Oh god, are you guys getting in trouble because of me?" You asked, looking at him horrified that you were possibly making things hard for your team.

"No, no, I mean. . . We're a team for a reason. You have to lean on us and trust us so when we need to, we can lean on you and trust you. If you need help studying or practicing outside of classes, I'll help you. That's why I'm here. It can be hard to ask for help in any situation cause it means you're admitting to a weakness, but that's okay. That's how we get stronger as individuals and as a team," Leon said.

You nod with a sigh. "I have two weeks to get better before I officially am asked to leave. I don't know if I can do it on my own," you said. "Can you help me?"

"Of course. I've got your back, Kid," Leon said, giving you a soft smile.

Chris

The B.S.A.A. was not for rookies, but they needed recruits so here you were. They provided training on weapons, protocol, how to work the gear, basically everything. Because they wanted everyone to be a well oiled machine out in the field, they made sure if you couldn't cut it that you didn't make it out of training. It was life and death and while they needed the hands, they weren't sending people out to die.

The trainers rotated to take classes of trainees. You were lucky enough to get the legendary Chris Redfield for your class leader. He would be teaching everything and making sure that everyone was ready. You had heard of him before, knowing that he was a weathered agent and could almost do anything was daunting.

Which was probably why you tried to avoid him at all costs in one on one situations. He wasn't mean or an ass, but he was intimidating. His stature and history were more than enough to show he knew exactly what he was talking about. You didn't want to feel stupid or embarrass yourself, so you kept him at a distance as you worked almost on your own.

Sure there were classes and work that you were trained in, but just the fear of being the weak link in front of others was hindering you. All of your tests and physical training was mediocre at best. Sure there were people that weren't going to cut it obviously, but you were much closer to their end of the spectrum than the other end that was running circles around you.

It wasn't that you couldn't do it. You could, but sometimes you froze up because your hands did something your mind didn't want to do or nerves made you stutter and stumble over your words. Everyone in the class at least had a background in the military or the police force or FBI or CIA or some other group that was similar to this.

You on the other hand did not. You came from a more technical background rather than a physical one. While you were miles ahead on the written tests, the physical ones were going to kill your career.

So when the notice went out that you were on the chopping block to be let go unless you could prove you were capable of being in the field, you weren't surprised.

Half of you wanted to keep trying, but the other half was telling you to pack up and go. You weren't unique or special, so why bother to continue to try?

It was when you were were working with one of the large guns by the shooting range, that Chris approached you. Before then, you two hadn't said a word to each other outside of the classes or even directly to each other.

So when his large frame took a seat across from you, folding his hands on the table after setting a file next to him, watching you with the gun, you weren't sure what to think.

"Hi," you said, freezing as you looked from the gun to him.

"Y/N, right?" He asked. You nodded as you set the pieces of gun on the table. "Why are you here?"

Oh Jesus, no. Why now? Why here?

"Uh," you said, blinking rapidly as your brain tried to come up with an answer. "Because I wanna help people."

"That's usually the answer I get," he said, sitting back to let his hands drop into his lap. "That or 'to kill bio weapons.' That's also a popular one."

"Yeah?" You said, unsure of what he was getting at.

"But I don't think it's why you're here," Chris said. "Because I think you don't know why you're here." Opening the file, you could see it was all information about you. Your background, schooling, family, credit score, even online usernames. They had everything. "When I was looking through the potential trainee's info, you struck me as odd. It's not exactly an every day thing that we get people who are more tech inclined rather than have a police or military background, but it happens. Usually they wash out though and end up in our research department."

"But I don't want to be in the research department," you said, frowning. Was he going to push you over to that section of the organization? You didn't want to be there though, otherwise you would have applied there.

"Every time I talk to someone and they have the chance to go to research after speaking to them about it, they take it," Chris said. "They figured out they can't cut doing the ground work so they move to a different field, but not you. I see you everyday in training, working your ass off to keep up with everyone and you almost make it. Not quite, but almost. Almost isn't going to cut it out on a mission."

"I know, I just. . . I'm working on it," you said, trying not to sound hateful or rude as your hands started to move on autopilot, putting your gun back together. "I'm really trying and I just can't get over this stupid hump that's holding me back."

"What's that? What's holding you back?" Chris asked.

"Me. I'm holding myself back," you said with a sigh. "I second guess everything because everyone around me has the experience that I don't, but I know I can do it. I just choke when it's time to act."

"I know you have some experience that they don't," Chris said. You nodded, understanding what he was talking about.

"I was a kid when it happened, I could barely call it working experience," you said, pushing the empty magazine into the gun.

"It was for Sherry Birkin," Chris said. "Raccoon City for a 9 year old isn't something to sniff at. From what the reports said, you were by yourself for three days before you made it out."

"Yeah," you said, nodding as you moved to the handgun next, disassembling it easily. "Hid in my apartment till I saw military trucks driving by then ran out."

"You lost your whole family to what we're training you to fight," Chris said, keeping his eyes on your hands as your fingers moved without faltering as you put the gun back together. "You were a kid when that happened. I say it still counts for experience that no one else really has. You know what you're doing with the infected and you know what it's like in the aftermath. We need people who know what it's like so that we can stop it from happening again."

"So what do you propose?" You asked, looking up as you finished putting the handgun back together. "After school training? Tutoring? Or do you want me to be counselor for survivors or shove me off to R and D?"

Chris chuckled as he closed the folder to look up at your face.

"I'm not gonna cut you," he said. "You know what you're doing and you're right. You're hang up is yourself. I'm gonna work with you to get over it. It's probably one the easiest things to work through really."

"You mean I can stay?" You asked, relaxing back into the chair, not even realizing you had grown so tense.

"Yeah. I just watched you take those weapons apart and put them back together in record time without even pausing," he said, pointing to the guns in front of you. "I want to work with you, Y/N. This isn't going to be an easy fight, but I really believe you have what it takes to be a good B.S.A.A. agent."

"Thank you, Sir," you said, smiling softly. "I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. We'll start some one on one combat training tomorrow before class. You're going to be working double what the others are, but it'll be for the best in the long run," he said.

"Whatever it takes, I'll do what I need to," you said.

"Glad to here it. Now, while we're here in the shooting range, let's test your aim."

[imagines-hoarder]

The Older Man (Pt 2) *smut*- Thomas Shelby

Request// Hey! Will you post a part 2 of “The Older Man”? I would be the happiest person alive =)

*After two years of sitting on the sidelines and focusing on school, I decided to use writing as a way to procrastinate from classes instead of the other way around. Family Divided and My Husband’s Brother fans are gonna kill me cause they have DEFINITELY been waiting longer; maybe more to come? I do also wanna give a little warning; I have not written a full work for this blog in two years and the first part of this story was the peak of my passion. I wanted to give y’all the smut you loved but wasn’t in the mood for angst so let me know if you have any storylines you have in mind for these two and we’ll see how long I’m around for? Please be gentle with my heart! xoxox*

Masterlist

(Part 1)

For those who know him, Tommy is predictable.

When you took a moment to finally watch the man who you had craved for years, you had noticed that he had a routine of his own that ran deeper than his calendar could account for. He was always awake before the sun, and you could only rely on him to find stillness for four hours a night; six if he could find peace. He’d spend the mornings at Charlie’s yard with the horses as day broke and would spend the coming hours in one of his factories across Small Heath. You had spent many years visiting him strictly on Wednesdays for your pay, but he now knew that a sultry touch could convince you just enough to have lunch with him before you left. He’d leave far after the last machine had ground to a halt and his final employee had clocked out. If he was lucky, you would stop by on your way home on the days of your choosing, but time had soon taught him to expect you at random. It had become his welcomed reprieve from drinking alone.

After eight months of finding yourself endlessly tangled into this circumstance with Thomas, you had settled into strange domesticity that was only possible with a man as destructive and dangerous as Tommy.

The smell of his cigarettes reached your nose the moment you unlocked your apartment. He was visible to you only in the dark by the embers glowing between his fingertips. 

“While I enjoy your covert visits as much as the next woman, I thought you would know better than sneaking up one armed with iron by now,” you proclaimed as you brought the room into further clarity by turning on the lamps. A cheeky grin was already stuck to your face by the time you could see him sitting in the wingback chair left by the last tenant. “Frankly, I’m surprised you found your way here before midnight.”

Once you had left Tommy’s office following your first fling, it didn’t take much time and even less convincing for you to find your own flat. It was close to your parents but far enough to keep them from ever knowing how the Tommy they doted on for years was defiling their only child in the dead of night. He didn’t live there, but it’s where he could be found most nights for the few hours he did sleep.

“Is it a crime to want to see you? Haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came to the office two days ago.” He looked so settled in a chair that was so beneath him, common man’s furniture that had faced many years of wear on the leather and scars on the legs.

“Well, sorry to keep you waiting, Mr.Shelby. I had a commitment to attend to this evening.” You moved to grab the empty glass resting loosely in his hands. He took a moment to notice you, no doubt arriving home from a local club. 

“A business commitment, I presume,” he called to you as you walked to the bar, pouring a glass of whiskey for yourself before refilling his own. “Can’t think of a man special enough to see you in such a state.”

You look down at your dress, an attractive piece of fabric that fashionably displayed your assets between layers of chiffon and beading. Your unruly hair had been pinned to display your mischievous eyes and the rouge in your cheeks. “Other than the present company, only the one I shot in the chest an hour ago. He was working for the Italians.”

He gave you a mere nod before you journey back to him. “At least he got a pretty view at the end of his life, didn’t he?”

His warm fingers brushed yours as you returned his glass, putting out his cigarette in the nearby dish before finding a reason to settle. His free hand pulled you to rest with him in the rundown chair, feeling the warmth of his lap underneath you and enjoying the feeling on his palm splayed on your lower back.

“I’m sure there are other things he would have preferred to see at death’s door,” you spoke gently, only loud enough for him to hear as you washed down the night with a gulp from your own glass. “Though I can’t tell if you're jealous or excited at the prospects.” He grunted before emptying his glass again.

“I have nothing to worry about. Couldn’t give a fuck about other men; just my best girl.”

“I’d say you’ve gone soft on me, Thomas, but I can feel how hard you are.” You assumed the waiting and outfit had quickly got the best of him as you felt him against you, his rigid facade contradicting the yearning you knew he felt. You slowly rotated on his lap to face him, your legs positioned to relax on either side of him. You slowly pulled the pins from your hair as he watched, letting it fall into its natural state before pushing the wayward strands behind your ear. “You’re the only one who calls me a girl anymore. I’ve been a woman for a while now, Tommy,” your hands trailed down to his trousers, slowly unveiling what you so eagerly pined for. Warm. He was warm all over and his gaze felt light fire on your face, the glasses finding themselves near the smoldering cigarette as your hand grazed deeper into his pants. “and for many, I am what death looks like.”

His lips crushed yours in a manner all but patient, his hands tangled between your hair and the back of your dress, aching to release you from all barriers between you. His lips sunk to your jaw and neck as he revealed your bare torso, leaving behind a trail of lustful caresses. You took the earliest opportunity to find balance on the ground and slipped out of the dress that pooled at your waist, tugging away your undergarments with it. By the time you had finished, Tommy’s chest was bare and you had the pleasure of freeing his member before you reclaimed your throne on top of him, calves rubbing against the firm leather of the chair.

Your weight sunk onto your knees and you felt him fill you. It was as if it were your first time again; so raw and natural as if he didn’t already own a part of you that you only now realized existed. The room brimmed with your sharp moans and Tommy’s heavy pants as you bounced on top of him. You tried to feel every bit of this moment without getting lightheaded; you didn’t know if he was pulling you closer or you were pushing yourself towards him as the coil snapped in your stomach. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck before you let out a shaky whine in his shoulder.

“No, not yet, love,” he cooed as your soft body began to relax in his grip. It would be a sweet yet peculiar notion, to think the night was over so quickly over. You felt your legs slide from the chair as Tommy pulled you to the ground and you naturally found your position. Your hips were lifted as he reached for them and your shoulders fell to the ground. With your cheek to the floor, you could see him in your periphery, the man with a calloused touch that had reached the most inner parts of your desires. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He pushed himself inside of you, and the cry that left your throat was lewder than you could have expected. As you held onto the legs on the worn chair, Tommy only thrusted deeper between your legs. By the time he was pressed fully against you, he was bucking at a pace of his own. “For fuck’s sake, Tommy!”

He bent against you, and his chest was against your curved back, now roping his arm around your waist so every inch of you was connected to him. “They may see you as a woman out there. But in my office, in your bed...on this bloody fucking chair, you’ll always be my girl,” he gritted out. His breath was hot against your ear as he came deep inside of you, bathing in the thrill of filling you up.

All the noise faded while sweat and slick dried between your bodies. His head rested between your shoulder blades as you laid between his arms on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, moments or millennia, before you unwound your limbs from his, grabbing your pile of clothes in the process.

“I nearly died in your arms tonight,” he said with a trace of humor on his lips. You tossed him his clothes before you pulled on your bloomers.

“It’s not your time yet, old man.” The glare you received had become a familiar friend in the past year. You knew that behind his scold, he was watching you as if you were art in the making; beauty in the moonlight that he didn’t deserve.

Tommy is predictable. He always had a card up his sleeve, something holding unexpected pleasures or unforeseen schematics. The longer you knew him, the more you were sure that he would always be one step ahead of those who thought they had him pinned. Maybe that's why you kept coming back to him. He was reckless and sometimes detached in order to stay ahead, but he was always calculated and cared for you in a way only a man like him could. He fulfilled a hunger no drug, no fortune, and no other man could ever satiate in you.

He took your hand in his, his rough palms soothing to your senses. “Then we must make all the little moments count until then.” He left hot kisses up your wrist and forearm. “Marry me, Y/N.” You scoffed with a laugh bubbling in your throat, pulling away from him as you walked to your room. You needed a bath more than a joke at the moment. “I’m serious, love. Marry me and I’ll give you a house with endless corridors and new furniture.”

“Maybe I don’t want to marry you, Thomas,” you teased from the other room.

“And maybe I only want to fuck a young woman I’m married to.”

“Then you’ve become quite the prude in the last five minutes!” 

You could retort day and night, but you knew a ring would be on your finger by next week, whether you had blatantly said yes or not. You would never admit it, but you knew that Tommy saw you as predictable too.

Cuties who have asked me to tag them at some point: @buckybarnesisalittleshit @moonlxghtbay @roliepoliegirl  @iamafancygirl @eggingamazinglove @characterobsessed (if you want to be untagged, please message me!)

[sugarydolli]

The Broken Elevator | [Soft]

Title - The Broken Elevator

Word Count - 1.9k

Pairings - Keigo Takami (Hawks) x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Break up, claustrophobia (your stuck in an elevator), Near-Death experience, Bad day?

My teacher had to read this yo.. 😰

Sorry if it's a bit blocky or weird from my normal writing style, I couldn't write it the way I wanted cause it was for school..but please enjoy 😊. Also your locked in an elevator so if that makes you uncomfy please don't read.

-

Sadly, Your day was already going south before the incident. Your car broke down on your way to work, you just realized that you put your skirt on backwards, and to put the icing on the cake a clumsy co-worker spilled hot coffee onto your new white blazer. “It's fine.” you told yourself as you walked over to the women’s bathroom before getting interrupted by the janitor. “Sorry miss,” he stood in front of the door rubbing the back of his neck. “All the bathrooms are clogged..except for the ones downstairs.” You sighed walking over to the elevator.

Reaching over to press the down button on the contraption, you hesitated. Worry filled your body, remembering all the tales you overheard your Co-workers said about it. According to them, the elevator was cursed breaking down for hours causing phobias and fears to shine through. You looked down at your shirt debating between taking the 10 flights of stairs that would for sure leave your feet swollen or the appearently cursed elevator.

Stupidly thinking your coffee stained shirt was worse than getting stuck on a elevator. Pushing down the fear bubbling in your tummy, you boarded the elevator testing your luck. Quickly pressing the button for the first floor, you waited patiently for it start. Once the sound of the elevator descending started you began to relax and the tension in the air faded. Finally hearing the ding when you reached your destinated floor you rushed over to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

After you finished cleaning up, the feeling of accomplishment waved over you for something going right today. Having no fear towards the elevator, you decide to ride again and finally start off your day on the right foot. A smile slowly spread across your delicate face as you closed your eyes and waited for the elevator to slowly ascend as it closed its doors. Until a flash of red wisped past the small creak in the door causing the doors to automatically open again. You quickly open your eyes to see your ex, Keigo, stumble through the door. Nevermind, this was officially the worst day of your life.

“Heh..Sorry-” his bright amber eyes looked up to see nothing but disgust in yours. Hawks awkwardly straightened himself out and shuffled next to you taking occasional glances. Small glimpses of your break up started to play in your mind as you stood, clouding your mind. Your tears, him walking out, the gossip among your co-workers, it was all coming back to you so suddenly it brought fresh tears to collect in on your waterline. Hawks looked down, regret stinging his face remembering the events from a few months ago.

Trapped in your thoughts you didn't notice the elevator’s sluggish pace, the machine starting to softly rattle before turning into a violent shake startling the both of you. You could hear some creaks and screeches before it proceeded to start plummeting down, a shriek escaped your mouth as large arms came around your frame and cradled you. Without thinking you held on to whatever, too scared to even open your eyes, The elevator halted right before the ground and shook once more then slowly stopping.

After a few minutes, you shifted causing Hawks to jump off you, looking away while scratching his head. Looking around at the now blinking lights you could see a panel of numbers, scooting over to them you pressed the red emergency button. The button gave a distorted ding till it completely shut down. Your next plan was your phone, moving around in your one spot to at least gain one bar of service but after a while of trying you admitted defeat.

Begrudgingly turning your head over to Keigo who was fiddling with his wings with a small blush casted onto his fair face. “We’re stuck.” you announce, slumping back onto the wall. Grief washing over you as you realized your situation. You trapped with your ex in an elevator for who knows how long. Your day went from bad to worse within minutes.

It’s been up to two hours now and it's been quiet with small talk here and there. You played on your phone for the first thirty minutes until it got down to fifteen percent, deciding it would be best if you save the battery. “Do..do you still think about...us?” Keigo asked in a meek tone than his usually laidback one. Taking a moment to respond you sighed, looking at the blonde male. “Why would I, Keigo? Why would I want to relive heartbreak over again?” He looked down, shame casted onto his face. Hawks stayed quiet for a while as you sulked in your corner.

Tears slid silently down your plush cheeks thinking about the events of your break up. “I cant do this anymore, Dove.” he whispered under his breath causing you to stop in your tracks. Keigo got up from the small chair and slid his coat on, “I'm sorry I just don't feel it anymore.” He walked out the door leaving you standing there. It took awhile to process before your knees buckled and you slowly slid down to the ground feeling as if a piece of you died that day. “If that's the case, Yes. I think about ‘us’ everyday.”

A solid hour and a half passed by and there was still silence among you two. Keigo tried to speak up multiple times but as soon as he opened his mouth it was as if the words would just disappear. You didn't move from your corner of the elevator, baskin in your sorrow and regret. Slowly though, the sorrow you felt for yourself turned into spite as time passed. Finally managing to get the words out, Keigo turned to you seeing your red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Sorry Dove..” looking down before he continued but quickly you cut him off. “Sorry Keigo? Sorry? You think a simple apology is gonna make me feel better after months of pain? Having to listen to my co-workers gossip about how you were on some girl at the club literally DAYS after? You think a ‘Sorry’ is gonna fix it all?”

Keigo silently leaned back into the wall as you turned directly towards him and shouted. You could see regret fill his face as you went on and tears gathered up in his golden eyes which were now starting to fall. To caught up in your rant you didn't hear the elevator springs start to pop from your rapid movements, causing you to yelp a bit. Without saying another word you went back to pouting unable to meet his sorry gaze. Keigo came for his things he left at your apartment a month after he walked out, you sat on your couch in silence waiting for him to finish packing. Once he was gone you completely broke down, letting out whimpers and sobs. What happened? In the many years of your relationship Keigo never gave off that he was unhappy. You realizing it was time to move on, so you distracted yourself with work but nevertheless you still thought about him.

At this point it's been 6 hours in this closed space. But the amount of emotions going through both of you made it feel like years in this trapped space. Keigo silently weeped in his designated corner, he felt like apologizing a million times wanting to explain himself as you sat there emotionless. “I didn't wanna leave you..” he whispered gently under his breath. “Then why did you?” you didn't have the energy to look at him. Keigo gave a long sigh, feeling water build up in his eyes once again. “I didn't mean to hurt you, I just…” He paused bringing a hand to wipe his tears. “Days before, the commission found out about us..and I..I couldn't risk it,” Keigo turns to you. “I'm so sorry, Dove..”

You let a few tears slip before rotating to face him, Keigo scoots closure to you from his corner. “Why didn't you tell me?” you muttered leaning slightly. “I didn't know how to explain it..” he ran a hand through his golden locks. The elevator creaked, falling slightly causing you both to jump. You scooted a bit closer to Keigo to where you both were only a space apart still trying to take in his explanation for hurting you all those months ago. Three more hours passed making it now nine hours you’ve been trapped. In order to avoid eerie silence the two of you started to talk normally. It didn't take long before Keigo's silly nature to kick in resulting in your first genuine smile of the day.

He could feel his cheeks burning from your smile, a warm feeling filled his stomach. Without thinking he reached over and stroked the side of your face, “I still love you..Dove” Your laughter quickly died down as your face reddened. Mouth agape as you processed all the emotions at once, You went into this elevator feeling nothing but disgust and revulsion but now your heart was almost pounding out of your chest. As much as you wanted to tell yourself it was good to move on, you always knew you couldn't get over Keigo. “I-..” you looked deep into his waiting eyes, opening your mouth to respond to his confession. Suddenly, the floor beneath you shook then soon everything was starting to vibrate.

Keigo wrapped his arms around your small frame once again as you clinged to his chest. Wires started snapping from above and screeches could be heard from the walls. The room stopped vibrating for a bit allowing you guys to look around before everything started to sink. Metal scraping against each other making a horrible sound, Keigo pulled you tighter against him, tears filled your eyes starting to believe these were your last moments. Quickly making up your mind you look at him deeply, through your tears. “I love you, Keigo” you say as you tightly closed your eyes and braced yourself for impact.

Fortunately, impact never came. A small shake followed by the feeling of sinking in your stomach stopping caused you to open your eyes. The blinking light was back to its original state and the elevator dinged, opening its doors. People passed by the scene giving weird looks and stares while you both rushed out the door. Running up to the front desk, the two of you tried to make sense of what just happened. “The elevator broke down! We were in there for HOURS!” You shouted, not caring if you were slowly ruining your job reputation, Keigo also gave his side of the experience.

The assistant looked at you both questioningly then shook her head and laughed before explaining what happened. You both walked out the building in embarrassment, according to the assistant the elevator worked perfectly fine and the both of you she assumed were putting on a show. She did allow you to leave for the day and Hawks followed. “Hey..” Keigo turned to you. “I know at the time we were kinda in the middle of falling through an elevator in a dream but..” you giggled looking up at him. “If your trying to ask if I meant it, yes I do..I love you Keigo.” His amber eyes lit up, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you forward. You leaned in to him and softly pressed your plush lips against his, Keigo’s heart swelled no longer feeling empty.

-

You and Keigo: *Dramatic getting back together love story*

Everyone else in the elevator:

[yamithediaperdork]

How to break a bully (My hero academia)

Kirishima was on cloud nine as he walked though the halls of the school. he'd just gotten a98 on his last test, He was at the height of his powers AND he had a blond cutie pie for a boyfriend and a big baby. for a daddy dom like Kirishima it was like getting triple 7's at a slot machine, even though there was ONE slight problem with his cutie pie big baby. it was that his big baby who could be loving and sweet and such a widdle cuddle bug in private..was a big brat and a total bully in public. If you hadn't of guessed as much by now, the baby in question was Katsuki Bakugo, Who as Kirishima looked out one of the hallway windows he say him bullying anther student. 'Little man..I thought we talked about this.' Kirishima thought and frowned, crossing his arms as he watched the scene. He was NOT a fan of his little sweetheart being a bully and had tried everything from washing his mouth out to spanking his bottom bright red and even tried bribing the brat, but nothing seemed to work. Slowly thought as he kept watching, a plan formed in his head. it was a evil plan to be sure, and one that might just break the little guy, but as a responsible daddy he knew it was his duty to teach his widdle guy right from wrong.

Meanwhile, not knowing he was being watched, Katsuki was having fun as he gave a third wedgie to glasses wearing student. he hadn't even bothered to learn the nerds name, he'd just felt the need to blow off some steam and the nerd had been the closet target. "S-Stop this o-or I'll-" the nerd whined and whimpered, lifted in the air by his hello kitty briefs and Katsuki snickered. "You'll what? wet your panties? Tell a teacher? go ahead~ But if I get in trouble because of you you'll WISH for something as kind and loving as I'm doing right now~" Katsuki said and then holding the geek up with one hand twirled him with the other. with the geek all twirled up, Katsuki let him spin and held out his palm so the geek got slapped every rotation. "Geez stop hitting yourself on my hand nerd!" Katsuki laughed and when the nerd was all dazed and confused, hiked him up higher and then dropped him to the ground. Hilariously at least to Katsuki, as the nerd whimpered and sobbed, the front of his pants started to darken and then the geek was wetting himself. "Pffft, Are you pissing yourself? what a BABY!" the blond bully laughed loudly, even though he was the last person who should be teasing someone else. "Maybe you should ask your mommy and daddy to get you some huggies, LOSER!" Katsuki chuckled, and again, considering he was at the moment wearing a power ranger pull up under his own pants, he had ZERO room to talk. Still, he decided the geek had had enough and walked away, whistling and feeling good and having NO idea of the hell that would be waiting for him all too soon.

That night while snuggling with daddy, Katsuki was in his normal daddy time attire (Read: A thick massive white disposable diaper and a t-shirt reading daddies little stinker, and sucking on a paci) they were watching one of daddies shows but since it wasn't a cartoon Katsuki basically tuned out of it, thinking about how tomorrow was one of his rare brief days and looking forward to it. it wasn't that the blond didn't like his pull ups or his diapers (Clearly he loved them) but well, the pull ups just sorta felt close enough to his huggies that sometimes Katsuki would almost boom boom in them before catching himself. Daddy also had promised if he could prove he didn't need his pull ups by keeping his undies clean 10 times in a row (and tomorrow was day number ten!) then he could stop with the pull ups at school anyways. with dreams of big boy undies during the day Katsuki suckled extra hard on his paci, not registering the weird taste on it and the fact he was sleepier then normal, and just snuggled into daddies side and closed his heavy eyes for a second.

when he opened them again he was being dressed by Kirishima and it was morning. "Hey sleepyhead, welcome back to the world of the living. you conked out HARD on me last night." the red head chuckled. "I..I did? huh..Weird." Katsuki said and sat up. he felt a little wonky still, but gave a yawn as daddy finished getting his shirt on him, his socks, undies and pants were already on and a glance at the clock told him that he'd super slept in, they were gonna have to boogie to get to class on time. "Sorry I conked out on you, wanted to play with you." Katsuki said and got up, pecking daddies cheek with a smooch and reached down for his school bag. "hey it happens. maybe my cute big baby needs to start taking naps." Daddy said and winked. "heh, maybe."  Katsuki agreed though the thought brought a blush to his cheek. "something to talk about later, for now, let's get going. one more tardy and you'll have to spent Saturday in detention inside of crawling around in the living room making presents for me." Daddy said and lead the way out the door. Katsuki who loved being a little present maker, gave no argument.

Getting to school with a few minutes to spare, Kirishima and Katsuki split up, their lockers where on different floors and the blond noticed something weird as he walked towards his locker. Normally the other students steered clear of him or gave him looks of hate because of his bullying ways, which was how he liked it. It was part of his (in his mind) brilliant cover for his big baby life with daddy, that in public he was the meanest toughest asshole you ever had to deal with. Daddy wasn't so fond of the plan but Katsuki could endure any of daddies punishments and truth be told, while daddies spankings hurt and Katsuki didn't get off on them..well, they helped him feel like the little boy he really was. Still today as he walked to his locker he was getting lots of chuckles and smiles. a couple of girls were whispering to each other and pointing at him, then both burst out laughing and he raised a eyebrow. he stopped to go and ask them what was so funny when a boy from a grade lower then him came over, wagging his eyebrows for the sake of the crowd and then spoke up. "Are you lost little guy? Do you need me to help you find your daddy?" "..The fuck did you say?" Katsuki asked, going to go for a badass pose when anther student from behind swatted his thigh. "Bad boy! no potty mouth!" Katsuki yelped and jumped at the swat, more from shock then pain but the reaction got a chuckle from everyone. turning around to slug whoever had slapped him, the slapper had blended into the crowd. "Alright, who's got the balls!?!" Katsuki growled, and started to take a battle stance. "Awww somebodies all grumpy!" a voice from the crowd called. "I think he needs hims paci!" anther called. Katsuki's mind was racing now, his cheeks turning red. 'what the FUCK is going on here?!?' he thought. The stand off came to a end when the warning bell rang. "Aww, better hurry up and stock up your diaper bag little guy!" was the second to final insult hurled Katsuki's way though as the crowd moved, SOMEONE patted his ass! "he's still clean!" came the final insult and Katsuki was left sputtering in rage, before stomping off to his locker. almost ripping the door off it's hinge, he found a pastel blue pacifier on a whine cord hanging inside of his locker, with a note taped to it. 'Suck on this before you end up crapping yourself' the note mocked, and he didn't know the handwriting. '..Somebodies gonna die toward.' he growled red faced, and yanked the paci down and tossed it in a nearby trash can. packing his books into his school bag he dashed for class.

if he'd of thought the classroom would be a sanctuary from his torment, he'd been wrong as right there on the chalkboard for home room was a drawing of him, in just a diaper and a baby bonnet squatting and who'd ever done the art had added stink lines. with his distinctive hair it was clear just looking who it was suppose to be, but if there had been any doubt it's been labeled in big bold letters "BABY KATSUKI BAKUGO GOING BOOM BOOM!!" Katsuki let out a soundless screen and almost blasted the chalkboard, but restrained himself, barely and erased the drawing and turned to face the smirking faces of the the rest of the class. "OK, which one of you twat monkeys has a god damn death wish?" he growled. "Sheesh, somebodies a grumpy baby." Tenya chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "Maybe he needs a diapie change already." Yuuga suggested and laughed. "No, i think we'd all KNOW if the baby was poopie." Momo giggled, holding her nose and waving a hand to prove her point. "G-Guys..Come on.. be nice..it's not his fault if he needs diapers.." Midoriya said, sweat dropping. "I DON'T NEED GOD DAMN DIAPERS!" Katsuki yelled. "oh wow, then that makes it worse! you wear'em by choice!" Jirou chuckled. there was throbbing vein on Katsuki's forehead and he was about to blow up the whole classroom when not only their teacher came in, But Kirishima. "everyone, calm down and take your seats please." Fuming and blinded with raged, Katsuki stumbled for his desk and got some d'aww's and 'baby can't walk yet' comments from the class.

the rest of the morning crawled by, with Katsuki receiving more then one note with various drawing of him being a big baby, or worse questions about how his diaper was holding up. so was it any wonder that his school work for the day suffered as a result, and when he was asked to read out loud for the class he stumbled over even the most basic of words, which got quiet chuckles. Come lunch time he couldn't wait to get away from all of them, and add into it that his belly was growling from not only missing supper last night but breakfast this morning. the tummy growls had gotten him even more teasing but he didn't even wanna think about that right now. Kirishima had been called away just before lunch break and so Katsuki didn't have his daddy to help him calm down as he strolled into the cafeteria. he went and picked up a lunch tray and scanned the crowd for Daddy's trademark red hair but then first noticed a crowd at the back of the cafeteria and then noticed WHAT they were all looking at. there, in blown up giant posters were 6 pictures of Katsuki in all his baby glory. The first picture had him triple diapered and asleep, sucking on his thumb on a blanket on the floor. he was face down and ass up and using a teddy bear as a pillow. He didn't recognize when the picture had been taken but daddy HAD told him he'd end up like that more often then not when he conked out on the floor. The second picture had him laying on his back, hands balled up in fists and rubbing his eyes and laying on a teddy bear print changing mat, and in a clearly loaded diaper. THIS one he reorganized as the first time he'd loaded a diaper for daddy, he'd only meant to let out a little bit to try but his butt hadn't listened to him. he'd been hysterical for a hour but daddy had given him LOTS of hugs. Picture number three had him asleep again, this time in a crib and wearing a teddy bear onesie with a bear eared hoodie to go with it and a fluffy tail.  he was also hugging a teddy bear to his chest and drooling up a storm. That had to of been from his birthday, because that was what daddy had gotten him and he'd tried to wear it as often as he could. Picture number four he remembered taking not that long ago, and had assumed that Daddy had been joking about sharing it, but it was becoming PAINFULLY clear who had posted all of these. It had Katsuki in a thick balloon print diaper sitting on a duck shaped training potty, holding onto the handles and filling his diaper, a look of pure pleasure on his face even though he was blushing. Moving onto number five and Katsuki felt himself pale even though he was blushing, making for a interesting look. it showed him on top of a teddy bear that was a foot taller then him, hugging it around the neck and kissing it, and from the blur around his pampered hips it was clear to everyone what he'd been doing. he couldn't even pin down WHEN this had been, as it was the only way he'd been allowed to get his rocks off. the last picture had Katsuki again in just a diaper, but he had paint all over himself and was holding up a poorly made finger painting for whoever was taking the picture to see. of course it was Kirishima but that much wasn't in the picture, though the painting was signed 'To daddy love Baby Katsuki' Katsuki felt his knees going weak and he tried to say something, anything as countless students laughter, chuckled and took pictures, then someone noticed he was there. "HEY EVERYONE, THE BABIES HERE!" practically the whole school turned and started laughing at Katsuki, and the taunts and jeers came. "What a big dumb baby!" "Stuffie humper!" "Diaper pooper!" "who's the big baby now?" "i bet he's filing his diapers now!" "Cry baby cry baby!" "Diaper boy! Diaper boy!" it was that last chant that caught on and Katsuki whimpered and whined. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP ALL OF YOU! I'M NOT WEARING A DIAPER! I'M NOT! I'M IN UNDIES! T-THOSE WERE ALL PHOTO SHOPPED! STOP LAUGHING AT ME!" he screamed, stomping a foot and his voice cracking and going higher and higher pitch. "prove it!" Called the geek he'd beaten up yesterday. "yeah! prove it!" a girl he'd tormented last week agreed. "H-How can I prove it?!?" Katsuki huffed, and whined, fighting back tears. Where was daddy!?! he needed daddy! "Drop your pants!" "yeah! drop your pants and show off your undies!" "drop your pants! drop your pants!" It was a mob action mindset at it's worse, and Katsuki knew it would only get worse if he didn't give the crowd what they wanted. thankfully for him, it was a undies day and he just prayed that daddy had picked a basic white pair of briefs for him when he'd been dressing him this morning. of course if Katsuki had been thinking clearly, he would of realized that since daddy had set this all up, there was no way in hell this would of ended well. but can anyone really blame him for not thinking of that? Undoing his belt to a cheer from the crowd he undid the button on his pants and let them drop to his ankles, smirking. "There see? I'm in big boy underwear!" he said, not bothering to look down. the crowd exploded in laughter and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, then the geek from yesterday called out. "Nice pull ups! I guess compared to the DIAPERS those ARE big boy undies for you!" Katsuki's eyes went wide as saucers and he looked down to confirm that not only was he indeed in a pull up, it was a barney one. "I-I no! I..But..Daddy dressed me..and.." Katsuki whimpered and cried. "Bwhahahaha! he doesn't even dress himself! he really IS a baby!" "what a dork!" "What a baby!" "WHAT A LOSER!" more laughs and taunts and Katsuki couldn't take it and started to bawl, even as the front of his pull up started to swell and Barney's smiling face faded away. he was wetting himself. He couldn't take it anymore and turned to run away, but forgot about how his pants were around his ankles and tripped, landing face down and ass up and giving everyone a perfect view of what happened next. maybe it was all the teasing, maybe it was all of his nerves. maybe it was from the laxative powder that Kirishima had slipped onto his paci for a bit this morning before he woke up. In any case he found himself stuck there as his body suddenly had a payload to get rid of and he let out a massive fart that shut the crowd up for a second. but only a second. "wait..is he going to.." "No way!" "ah jeez, if his FARTS stink this bad.." three loud and powerful farts came out in a row and then the back of Katsuki's pull up started to puff out as he cried and sobbing, pounding a fist on the ground and putting his forehead to the floor. whether his cries and sob and behavior was from the shame of what he was doing or just trying to force what looked like a painfully large movement out was anyone's guess, though most believed it was the latter. the puffing of the back turned into a large lump that was poking out the back of the pull up and one boy who's quirk was force fields thought quick as it looked like the big baby was gonna leak. Forming one around the pull up the lump shushed against it and then as Katsuki screamed out "DADDY!" the mess was smushed all around. the ONE thing the force field couldn't contain however was the smell and lots f students started to hold their noses even as thy laughed and waved hands. "YUCK! what did you eat? roadkill skunk?" "Somebody open a window!" "Are we sure THIS isn't his quirk? super stenches?" with his poopies all out and it all over, Katsuki was crying big time and blubbering for daddy. "Awww, did somebody have a accident?" Came Kirishima's voice. Though tear filled eyes Katsuki looked up and saw daddy, who had a large diaper bag with him. "You..you.." Katsuki whined and whimpered. "am here to save the day." Daddy said, then held his nose. "whew, just in time, force field or no force field, i don't think that load is staying contained for long!" Daddy came over and scooped the blubbering baby up, and Katsuki sniffled and buried his face into daddies chest, getting a d'awww from the crowd. 'it's over..d-daddies gonna take me away and get me changed and-' Katsuki thought, eyes closed. then he felt himself being plopped onto a changing mat that had been set up on one of the lunch tables. "D-Daddy?" Katsuki asked, opening his eyes. no way he was gonna change him HERE..in front of everyone! "Shh, be a good boy and let daddy change your stinky bottom." Daddy said and winked. this was a humiliation a step too far, even in light of all of this and Katsuki screamed and thrashed about, shaking his head no and yelling it it too, till daddy rolled him on his tummy and got the kid making the force field to drop it, then walloped his squishy backside. "Little man! that is enough! you are going to be a good little boy and let me change you're pull up and put you in a nice thick diaper, then you're going for a nap, or daddies gonna paddle your bum and then all of that will happen anyways! got it?" Katsuki bawled and whined, but nodded he understood.

One change later, and earning a new nick name to go along with all the others he now had (the new one being little nub..go ahead and guess why) and Katsuki was in 4 for his over night diapers and had been changed into a light blue t-shirt with a teddy bear in a night shirt and night cap sleeping on a quarter moon on the front. He'd been given a ba-ba of formula to drink while he was changed, and it had been oddly filling but didn't make things any better for him as he now had to wave night night to the rest of the school. scooped up with dadies hands under his butt and his legs sticking out behind daddy while he held onto daddy with his arms for support, Katsuki was carried towards the shop class where they had built a crib just for the impending big baby. he was sulking and whining and looked eyes with Kirishima as he was carried away. "..why?" he sniffled. "because I told you to stop being a bully or else. you didn't wanna listen. now you'll NEVER be a bully again, and will see what it's like to be picked on. I know it's a hard lesson, and trust me, I didn't wanna have to teach it to you like this. Just, you left me NO other choice." Daddy said. "I-I would of stopped if you'd of told me this was the punishment.." Katsuki pouted and whined. "...Huh. didn't think of that. oh well, too late now. Look at it this way. you'll get to be a big baby ALL the time now. and don't worry, daddies never gonna let anyone physically hurt you." Kirishima said and kissed the huffy boys cheek. Somehow, that didn't make things better but Katsuki just didn't have it in himself to fight anymore. the bully terror of hero academia was gone, replaced with a huffy diapered toddler who could only strike back at his tormentors with stinky diapers.

The end

[pressedinthepages]

Love

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Ciri & Eskel (Platonic/Familial), Geralt/Eskel, Lambert/Aiden

Rating: T

Masterlist

a/n: No request this time, just wanted to write something soft.

thanks to @sometimesiwrite​ for being a great beta/idea machine/friend :)

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: language, softer than a freshly washed puppy, ~yearning~

Ciri asks about love.

    “Hey, Uncle Eskel?”

    Ciri’s voice, smooth and level with her age, rings over the ramparts from which Eskel currently hangs. Vesemir has given them all a chore for the afternoon, and Eskel is finishing closing a gaping maw in the structure of the inner wall of the keep. He is just barely perched on a scaffold, reaching to place the last stone in a spot that’s *just* outside of his reach. 

    Eskel turns to look down at Ciri, her ashen hair shining bright in the waning sun. He huffs as the breeze catches his dark hair and flops it down into his eyes. Ciri giggles, a sweet sound that she has yet to grow out of. Gods, I hope she never does, Eskel thinks.

    “Yes, Swallow?” Eskel is pretty proud that of all the dumb things Lambert and Geralt tried to nickname Ciri, his was the one that stuck. 

    Ciri crosses her arms over her chest, looking all the world like Geralt whenever he has his mind set on something that is almost certainly an inconvenience for Eskel. “After supper, I would appreciate your insight on some personal matters.” Ciri winks, her proper tone eclipsed by a chuckle just under her breath. 

    Eskel grins a bit, thinking back on their previous discussions. She’s grown up quite a bit, still on the earlier side of twenty, but her mind is sharp as a blade, and her tongue even sharper. “Of course, it would be an honor.” Eskel bows where he hangs, making his position even more precarious. He hears the quick intake of breath from Ciri and sits back up, smiling wide even as his scar pulls at his lip.

    “Don’t worry, little one,” Eskel says, switching the stone to his other hand before leaning back to the hole. “You’ll not get rid of me that easily.”

    Shortly after, Eskel and Ciri get to the supper table just as Lambert is serving. He’s on cooking duty all week, which works out well for everyone. He’s got the most agreeable palette, and he uses it well. However, next in the rotation is Geralt. He has the most sensitive nose out of all of them so he doesn’t season, and can’t cook a bird for shit. Eskel plans on appreciating his younger brother’s cooking as much as he can before the next week of bland meat and undercooked bread. 

    “Eat up, fuckers.” Lambert sets a large dish on the table, a hearty roast full of venison and root vegetables that had been stored away before the frost set in. A layer of lightly spiced shortcrust covers the top, and is served alongside tankards of ale and a hunk of dark bread. 

    “Smells delicious, Lambert,” Ciri calls after his retreating form. Eskel sees how the tips of his ears blush as he pours some of his “vodka” (which is really just shitty leftover potion water) into his tankard, but Eskel only smiles down into his plate. Vesemir joins them too, and the four of them tuck into the generous offering.

    Their peace is short-lived though, cut off by the abrupt clang of the great doors flying open. Geralt stomps into the common area where they all sit, and Eskel wrinkles his nose. Geralt is soaked head to toe, and he smells like a mix between a decaying fish and a little bit of vomit after too much spicy food. 

    Lambert clearly picks up on it too, offering Geralt a sip of his drink. “Drowner duty?”

    Geralt grunts as he sits across from Ciri, bumping Eskel’s shoulder as he helps himself to the dinner. Geralt moans a bit as he takes the first bite, and Eskel shudders at the sound. He’s always been weak for Geralt’s voice, especially with how rarely he actually uses it. 

    They eat quickly now, forced to scarf it down in an effort to escape the devastating scent that Geralt brought to the table.  Eskel drains the last of his ale and grabs an apple, slicing it in half and handing some to Ciri. She whips out her own dagger and cuts away the core before portioning it neatly into several smaller mouthfuls. 

    Geralt sighs before pushing himself to stand, a whole new waft of nauseating aroma settling with the sudden movement. “I’m going to wash.”

    “Thank Melitele’s sweet tits, I thought you were just gonna make that part of your ~look~ now, pretty boy.” Lambert leans back with his boots kicked up on the table, carving a crude drawing into a pear from the table. Geralt walks quietly away from the table before turning abruptly and swinging his leg wide, catching Lambert’s chair and yanking it out from under him. He flails wildly before his ass hits the ground and he turns to grab at Geralt’s ankle. But he has already torn off towards the baths, and Lambert huffs before scrabbling to his feet and chasing after him, his pear long forgotten.

    Vesemir sighs in the now much quieter room, also standing and picking up his plate. “Well done on that wall today Eskel. Looks much better.”

    “Thanks, wasn’t anything too difficult.”

    “Maybe so, but I still appreciate it.” Eskel smiles as Vesemir walks away, letting himself revel in the praise for a moment. 

    Ciri clears her throat, bringing Eskel back to the matter at hand. “Library?” She asks, and Eskel nods. He takes Ciri’s plate and sets them into the washbasin for a later time. They trek up the stairs and push open the heavy wooden door. Eskel lights the fire with a flick of his fingers and the room instantly warms, the air light and swirling around them. 

    Eskel watches as Ciri plops down onto the dense fur in front of the fire, warming her hands as the orange light dances over her face. He walks over to his trusty copy of the Beastiary, only to pick it up and find it much lighter than he would expect. He opens it, and instead of his glass bottle of White Gull, there is a note in the hollowed-out hole. 

    ‘Maybe pick a less obvious hiding place, douche-canoe.’

    The handwriting is scrappy and small, just like the younger witcher that wrote it. Eskel sighs before turning to another bookcase, finding a heavy tome that Jaskier had left for him a few years prior. He flips this one open and finds two small flasks of Toussaint wine, which is certainly better than nothing. 

    Eskel walks silently over to Ciri and hands her one of the glasses before sprawling out beside her. They sit in silence for a while, as has become tradition while Ciri gathers her thoughts. They both sip at the wine, and Eskel needs to remember to write a letter to Jaskier at Oxenfurt for saving his ass tonight. 

    “I have to warn you Eskel,” Ciri murmurs, and Eskel looks over to her with a crook of his brow. “This isn’t going to be an easy one.”

    Eskel hums, taking another sip of wine. “Never is, kid.”

    Ciri takes in a deep breath, steeling herself with a long chug of the alcohol in her grasp. “How do you know if you’re in love with someone?”

    Eskel’s eyes widen imperceptibly, and he can feel how his heart skips a beat. “Damn Ciri,” he chuckles, “you weren’t kidding when you said this wouldn’t be easy.”

    Ciri only shrugs with a smirk. Eskel shifts a bit, partially to get himself more comfortable, and partially to give himself more time to think. He can only wiggle around for so long before it gets weird for everyone though, so he just ends up tucking his legs underneath him and taking another long drink of wine. 

    “Well, I-”

    “Have you ever been in love, Eskel?” Ciri turns to him, her bright gaze shocking on even the best days. Now they bore straight through Eskel, and he feels like she is peeling away the layers of mortar he has so carefully laid around his heart for the past, oh, century or so. Eskel thinks back, trying to remember the moment that he knew what love was. 

    And then he tries to figure out how to tell Ciri that he knows what love is like because of her father. Geralt showed him what it was like to feel out of breath whenever they were more than a hairs’ breadth apart. And then the all-encompassing relief that sang through his bones whenever they reunited. They showed each other how to accept this part of their lives that had been so desperately ignored, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

    But that’s a lot. Geralt is terrible with words and feelings, and Eskel is not much better. Ciri looks at him expectantly, with all of the air of royalty running low on patience. Ciri is eternally patient though, especially with all of the practice she has had with Geralt. 

    Eskel is just about to open his mouth when he hears stomping down the hallway, and he waits until Lambert pushes open the old door with enough force to send the snow into an avalanche over the mountains. He, now, is soaking wet, though instead of drowner guts he only smells of the clean mineral water that flows into the springs beneath the keep. Eskel smirks up at him as he traipses over to where the two of them sit, dropping himself unceremoniously into one of the soft chairs that rests not far from the fire. “Geralt throw you in?”

    Lambert hums in the affirmative, seemingly harboring no further ill-will towards him. “What are you two chucklefucks talking about?”

    Ciri pipes up, seemingly (for whatever reason) interested in Lambert’s opinion. “I asked Eskel what it feels like to be in love.”

    Lambert’s face looks as though he was just violently slapped with a fish, glancing over to Eskel who only offers a shrug in return. Eskel is expecting a long-winded rant about how ‘Witchers don’t love, it makes you soft, and a soft Witcher is a dead Witcher…’ blah blah blah, but that’s not what he gets. Instead, Lambert kind of sinks further into his seat and his eyes turn tender, and Eskel realizes that he’s getting a glimpse into the Lambert that the world so rarely sees.

    “Wanna know what I think about love, little beetle butt?”

    Ciri nods, turning more fully towards Lambert. Eskel does the same, curious to see what his youngest brother has to say. Eskel holds out his half-empty flask, handing it to Lambert in a silent offer of support. Lambert drains the remainder of the wine in one gulp, the bastard, before he smiles a bit as he loses himself in his thoughts. 

    “I think that love is-” Lambert sighs, searching for the right words, “love is indescribable. You don’t know what it is until you have it, and then you never want to let it go.” 

    Eskel nods at Lambert’s words, letting them resonate in his mind. He never quite feels right anymore without Geralt at his side, his body and soul yearning for their other half in a way that cannot be depicted with mere words. 

    “Ciri, I haven’t got a clue about whatever you’ve got going on,” Lambert wags his finger in the air, and Eskel can see just how influenced the youngest of them was by Vesemir. “But life, especially human life, is too short to dwell on shit that will fester and bubble under your skin if you don’t let it out.”

    “But how do I know?” Ciri whispers, and Eskel’s heart breaks for her. Gods, he has spent decades asking himself that exact same question, and he still doesn’t really have an answer.

    “You’ll know when it’s not a question anymore.” Lambert stares off into the fire, watching the flames lick up into the air, chasing the wayward embers into the dark of the ceiling. Eskel is kind of stuck, Lambert’s words ringing through his head. When it’s not a question anymore. Fuck, when did the little prick actually get smart?

    Ciri rolls over, pressing a gentle kiss to Eskel’s cheek, right over the angriest of his scars. “Thank you, Uncle Eskel. And you, Uncle Lambert,” she gives him a kiss on the cheek as well, and leaves them alone to their thoughts. 

    Eskel looks over at Lambert, seeing in bright relief the decades that have worn this man raw, and wonders just how he can still have room for love in his heart. “Who is it?”

    Lambert sighs, hanging his head a bit. “I met him on the Path. We’ve been...traveling together now for a couple of years. He’s uh-he’s the best man I’ve ever met.”

    Eskel smiles wide once more, scooching closer to where Lambert sits. “I’m happy for you, Wolf. Why haven’t you told us?”

    “He’s another Witcher, and a Cat no less.” Eskel blinks at this, but the way that Lambert looks at him, vulnerable and exposed, shuts up any errant thoughts he may have had. “Besides, like you have room to talk. You’ve been pining after Geralt for how long? A century? Two?”

    Eskel throws his shoe at Lambert, catching him on the shoulder. Fuck, I need to work on my aim. “Shut up. I’m working on it.”

    Lambert scoffs as he stands up, chucking Eskel’s boot back over his shoulder. “Right, well. Once you figure it out, let me know. By that point, I’ll be retired on the coast with a whorehouse next door. You’ll know where to find me.”

    Lambert is almost to the door when Eskel’s arms wrap around him, strong enough to bruise a rib if he wasn’t a Witcher. “Shit, Eskel! Let go of me, you great oaf!”

    Eskel gives one last squeeze before he relents, grabbing Lambert by the arm before he can take off running. “Thank you, Lambert, and I promise. I won’t tell anyone before you’re ready.”

    Lambert glances down to the ground with a great breath in, his golden eyes catching Eskel’s when they return. “Thanks, brother.”

    “Of course, Wolf.”

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows XXXI

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You are horrible at surprises."

"No, I'm not."

"This is the suckiest surprise ever."

"Just sit in the chair, Y/n."

"No, I'm not going to sit in the damn chair Loki!"

"You won't get your favorite smoothie anymore."

"...Fine." I glared at Loki through the glass as I sat down in the metal chair in the middle of the room. Once I shifted for a moment to get comfortable, I felt the metal suit under my clothes activate, holding me in place. I couldn't move my arms, legs, and I could only rotate my head a fraction. "I hate you, you know that? Look at my right hand, that's what I'm feeling right now." To the best of my ability, I flipped Loki off.

He didn't seem amused.

I heard machinery as something unfolded from the floor. I turned my head to the best of my ability to see what it was and let me tell you I did not like the sight.

"Loki, please tell me you aren't going to stick that big-ass needle into me." I didn't even try to keep up the sarcastic facade.

Loki looked at me reassuringly, "Don't worry, it'll be over in a moment."

I tried not to remember my previous experiences with syringes. I really tried, but the only thing that came to mind was the pain. How could I not when the results could be felt under my skin twenty-four hours a day.

I fought back the tears of fear that were swelling by clenching my eyes and balling my hands into fists. As I heard the steady hum of the machine next to me grow closer, I felt the muscles of my jaw grow tighter.

The needle pricked right above the collar of the metal suit and I suppressed a cry as I felt the substance enter my veins. The metal seemed to stay in my skin for an eternity longer than necessary. It eventually exited and I let out a forced sigh of relief.

I opened my eyes to see Loki watching me worriedly. I pushed it off with a fake laugh, and his face softened.

"Are you alright darling?"

My voice was a bit tight as I said, "Fine, dandy, peachy even. Can I just get the hell out of this thing now?"

"Right!"

The suit relaxed and I hurriedly stumbled out of the chair. I felt the place on my neck where I was punctured and found I was bleeding from the wound. I licked my finger and held it to my neck to stop the bleeding. I grunted, "You wanna tell me what the fuck you just injected me with?"

"The nanobots that you just received will allow us to track your location and render you unconscious if you become a danger," Loki said it matter-of-factly, but what he was saying wasn't making any sense.

I squinted at him, "Loki, in case you haven't noticed, I've got a suit that can paralyze me and there's no reason to track my location if I'm stuck in this fucking cell!"

He smiled with a glint in his eye as he walked around the glass, "Well, that's about to change."

He came to a stop exactly across from where he came in. As he pivoted to face me, his hands were clasped behind his back. 

I watched in amazement as a section of glass slid down into the floor. I took a hesitant step toward the opening, waiting for some sort of consequence; a consequence that didn't come. So I took another, and another, and then one more to the point where if I stuck out my toe, I would cross the line. I stared at the floor, at my feet and Loki's who stood only a few inches away. The only thing I could do was swallow and raise my head to look at him. 

He showed me an encouraging smile. Then, without warning, he grabbed my hand and pulled me through.

I let out a surprised yelp at the jerk and had to brace myself against the white wall. I felt it in amazement. It felt exactly like the floor, but unlike the floor, I never thought I would be able to touch it. 

Loki kept hold of my hand and started to walk around the glass towards where the outer door always opened. I dragged a couple of fingers along the wall as I followed behind. When we approached the door opened quickly and I didn't have time to process another drastic change before we exited the bright cell to the dim basement. 

The doors shut behind me and that's when I refused to move for a moment. I vaguely felt a tug at my hand when I stopped, but I was too engrossed in the feeling that the even slight shadows brought me. It was energizing. I blinked slowly, almost sleepily. I cracked a lazy smile at Loki when he watched me curiously. I didn't say anything and I took a step towards him to signal that I was ready to go. 

The elevator ride was silent but comfortable. I had to admit that I was terrified. I was scared that the moment I opened my mouth this would all fall apart into some sort of twisted dream. Or maybe a worse option was when I started asking questions and found out that my deepest fears were coming true. 

Maybe they weren't letting me out. Maybe they were finally getting rid of me. Maybe they were going to drop me trapped in a remote location with no hope of freedom. 

Maybe they were just going to kill me.

So I stayed silent, I hoped, and I prayed to any god that I didn't know. 

Eventually, the elevator stopped at our destination. The doors opened what I saw on the other side nearly evaporated all my fears. There was the team, and a few others I didn't recognize, but they were all smiling.

I had forgotten I was still clinging to Loki's hand until he squeezed mine before letting go. I missed it's warmth for only a moment before Clint launched himself at me, almost making me stumble back into the elevator. He pulled me into a tight embrace. It didn't take long before five others had their arms around me.

I'm not ashamed to say that I cried. To be out, to see my friends, to have this level of comfort, to be among people again, it was all so overwhelming. 

When we all untangled there were a few moments of awkward silence broken up by giggling. In that period I raised my head and something caught my eye. For a moment it was all I could look at and I froze. 

But only for a moment.

The next moment came quickly. I barely noted my legs moving at break-neck speed and the confusion and panic left behind me. The only thing I focused on was shoving the door open and breathing in the open air. My hair whipped behind me as I sprinted across the field until I dove and rolled in the grass. I tumbled a couple of times before I stopped and lied on my back, laughing uncontrollably, relishing the feeling of cool grass beneath my hands and the beautiful blue of the sky above me. 

That lovely exhaustion from lying in the warm sun washed over me as the group jogged out to where I was in the middle of the field and sat around me, looking up at the sky as well.

And I knew everything was going to be okay.

A/n: Hey, if you enjoyed it consider leaving a comment and a reblog!

Tag Lists [OPEN]: 

Best Buds: @kitkatd7 @snarky--starky @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @kaogasm

OKAS: @paigelin @ghost-of-the-oldwest

[evohealed]

◀ LITTLE TALKS ▶

(( here’s an old mini fic i thought i should post. rex goes to the rebooted zagrs because it has his mother’s voice, and it’s … comforting, in a strange way. it’s the closest confidant he has. enjoy – it’s under the cut. I may write more like this in the future. ))

Rex doesn’t know what to do. He’s feeling so pushed over the edge, and off his shit’s that he doesn’t have a single coherent thought running through his mind, and he’s really, really fucked up. He’s bloody and broken, and even though Providence tried their best to patch him up and his nanites usually helped him heal faster … not everything could go away in an instant. He’ll be fine soon enough, he’s just … scared, and so alone. They wouldn’t even let him leave the building to get some fresh air after the horrific EVO attack he’d just had to deal with occurred – something had totally let some from the petting zoo’s isolation chamber free, and, well … he doesn’t wanna talk about the injuries he sustained from it. He’s got his phone out, and through tear-glazed eyes and a shaky hand, he types out a message to Noah. But … he just can’t find it in him to hit send.

He’s typed, retyped, deleted, typed, retyped, deleted, typed, retyped, deleted … but no matter how many times he does this, no matter how much he wash, rinse, and repeats, he just can’t send it to Noah. Wouldn’t he come off like a total baby? Doesn’t he have better stuff to deal with? Wouldn’t he just be wasting Noah’s time? There’s nothing on his mind but Noah, and how Noah could make him feel better, and how he wants to just hear him … so, while he’s totally out of it, the thumb that’d been hovering nervously over the call button presses down. It’s barely even ringing before Noah picks up, and he’s saying hey, and asking him what’s up. But when Rex doesn’t immediately respond, and all you can hear is him clearly sniffling like he’s gonna cry, Noah starts to ask what’s wrong.

He doesn’t really answer, and it’s not til Noah’s trying to beg him to talk because he can hear Rex crying ( which must be … alarming, because he knows Noah’s never seen or heard him cry before, and he’d always wanted to keep it that way ) that he really realizes Noah’s on the other end. Oh, god he’d heard him sobbing.  He can’t bring himself to say anything but a quick somewhat muddled sorry and hangs up the phone, trying to keep back his sobs until he can stop fumbling with his phone enough to hang up, and … when Noah calls back, he just rejects it. He can’t stand rejecting his phone over and over again, and he just wants it to stop. Why did he do that? That was so stupid of him! Sure, he wants Noah around more than anything right now, and he really, really wants to be consoled by his blonde friend, but … he feels too guilty for making Noah worried.

He feels guilty for showing any kind of feelings when he KNOWS better than to do that. He’s just a weapon, he shouldn’t be burdening anyone else with his issues! There’s nobody he should even be talking to about this. So it’s with a bitter sniffle that he turns off his phone to avoid the calls and texts from Noah, and just … sits there, alone in his dark room, alone with his thoughts, and suffers silently. Nothing new to the tall teen, unfortunately – it’s what Providence has ingrained into him, after all.

Honestly … what was he thinking? He couldn’t even go and see Noah, and Noah wouldn’t want to see him like this anyways .. not when Providence was scolding him for how much of a baby he was being, and how he should have done better in handling the attack than he did.  They expected him to heal fast, because he usually heals fast, but he’s really fucked up, and he just… can’t! He’s injured way too much and the injuries are way too extensive to even let him function right for a few days, and sure, Providence had great pain meds and medical access, but nothing the med-bay could offer could stop this … painful feeling he had all over his body. There’s no scars or anything ( okay, well. no BAD ones ) but some things were DEFINITELY  broken, and .. well. They hadn’t been treated ASAP, so it’s no wonder that everything in his body hurt so fucking badly.

And on top of this all, he’s got a distinct sense of being a burden, and he just knows it has to be true. If it wasn’t true, then … why would they be treating him like this? He knows he should have been better, he knows he should’ve fought better, he knows he shouldn’t have called Noah no matter HOW distressed he got … and yet he did. So … where was he gonna go? What was he gonna do about this? He doesn’t know, so he’s curled up on his bed and looking like a kicked puppy. He buries his face in his knees, just staying in a ball, and … that’s how he stays, for hours on end. He’s sure he’s fallen asleep and cried himself out at one point, because suddenly, he’s waking up, and … Bobo is already asleep. All the lights in Providence are turned off ( well, except the night light rotations .. those are dimmer lights turned on by nine PM so people can sleep here ) and .. well, if those are on, then there’s a good chance that means Cesar is out of his lab. Or, at the very least, asleep – that man sleeps like a rock, so if he was in there, and was still asleep? It wouldn’t matter, he wouldn’t wake him up. So,

Rex, still feeling miserable as ever, decided to get himself up and out of there. He needs something to talk to, something like a parental figure to tell him everything will be okay – but Holiday had already gone to bed for the night, and he’s not about to wake her up. And .. Six was. Six. He wasn’t a very good dad figure at all. And he hated being woken up for anything pertaining to emotions … says he should just get over them. Okay … what does he do, then? Well … he’s decided in an instant, something that just clicks and makes him feel absolutely at peace.

He’s going to talk to ZAGrs.

Honestly, Rex couldn’t say he’d expected the revelation that ZAGrs used his mother’s voice, but … it made a whole lot of sense. The voice, it’d sounded so … eerily familiar from the get go, and now Rex knows why. Cesar had managed to kill her self-aware programming and reboot her since the last time they’d dealt with her, and … well, while Rex certainly felt silly he hadn’t even recognized his own mother’s voice, everything made so much more sense. Now, he knows that it’s not really his mom talking to him, and that she’s not really self aware anymore, but … it’s as close as he’s gonna get to his mom. I mean, it has her voice, doesn’t it?

So … it might as well be the same thing as talking to his real mom. He doesn’t think he’s weird for what he’s about to do with this information and thought process, but he wants someone to speak to, and ZAGrs is as close as he can get to having a parental figure at the moment. ( it’s wack logic, but he’s going to choose to run with it anyways. ) Slowly peeking his head through the door, he checks around for any signs of Cesar in the room. He sees his brother passed out at his desk, drooling everywhere over his papers ( gross, he thinks, but mood ) and the computer turned off. He slips into the room as quietly as he can, if he feels like he can barely move without causing a mess through the room ( seriously, he’s bumping into everything… he really shouldn’t be walking ). And, once he’s in, he takes another look around ( yup, Cesar’s still asleep ) before he puts his hand to the monitor and turns it on with his nanite abilities. ZAGrs ( or  … er, computer? isn’t that just what she’s called now? ) is alive and well and functioning, and it greets him.

“Hello, REX. SALAZAR. What is your query?” 

Rex, miserable as he is, tenses up, and then … relaxes. He has to remind himself that he’s not gonna be killed by this thing anymore, it can’t try to murder him or genocide all the world’s Nanites … so, he decides to finally try and speak. “Um … Computer, can I … talk to you?”

“Of course you can talk to me, REX. I have many commands you can execute.”

“… Right, um .. I actually wanted to talk to you about .. my feelings. Is that .. okay?” He sheepishly rubs his neck, offering a little forced grin. Wow, okay, he feels like a fool for doing this, and that motion alone hurts to do, but .. he’s still gonna keep it up. So, with a deep breath, a side glance, and pulling a spare chair out, he sits down, and asks his question.

“Computer … Have you … ever felt like you don’t actually matter much?”

“QUERY not recognized.” 

“I mean, it’s just … I know I’m not totally worthless, but … it’s hard not to feel that way when you’re someone like me.”

“Your body will likely have value on the black market, if that is what you are inquiring.” “What’s a black market? I don’t – you know what? Whatever, okay. Um.. I just – I’ll just talk about what I came here to. Just .. listen, okay?”

“OK.”

“Okay, w-well .. god, everything hurts, for starters.” He complains, melting into the seat he’s found and leaning back. He lets a pause hang in the air before he continues, only the sounds of the computer’s whirring filling the background, and then he breathes in deeply. He’s just gotta … take a second to breathe. His body still aches, and his head and thoughts are still foggy and he’s still very sleepy, but … he’s gonna continue anyways. “But … really, um .. I’m …” He struggles to find his words, and for a second he really does believe all is lost, and then, all at once, the words start pouring out.

“I … messed up. I know I’m supposed to be a machine. I’m supposed to be a good weapon, a-and I’m supposed to not feel anything. But .. sometimes, the stress can get to me, you know? I don’t know, I know I should be keeping my biometrics up, but … I d-don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I mean, I wanna help people, and I w-wanna help save the earth and stop EVOs from hurting each other, and cure everyone I can, but … b-but I’m not .. good enough! I can’t be a good weapon, but I’m n-not even a normal person, either. And if I’m not a good w-weapon, and I’m useless as a human, then … who am I? What am I? It’s not – I just don’t understand. I know Providence tells me – that Six tells me – that I’m not s'pposed to have emotions, I’m not supposed to get upset like this, and I should just focus on doing m-my job … but I can’t help feeling like I’m a failure because … I am feeling! I have emotions! No matter w-what I try, I just can’t get rid of them! I’m trying my hardest not to, but they’re here, and they’re… I can’t just ignore them!”

He forces himself to pause – he’s back to silently sobbing again, trying his damndest to keep his tears as quiet and hidden as he could. It’s … the first time he can remember crying in a long time – he can usually shove it all down, but now it’s all bubbling to the top. This whole situation just sucks, he just wants to be a normal kid, but Providence wants him to be a pure weapon! Why does he have to have emotions if he was meant to be a weapon? If he has emotions, why is he a weapon? Weapons shouldn’t feel, and humans shouldn’t be able to do … this! “… People tell me I’m a freak. Everyone at Providence is always yelling at me that I’m a weapon, everyone I try to help tells me I’m a freak. I’m getting mixed signals and I – I don’t know what to make of it. I just want to be normal, I wanna be able to talk m-my emotions out, but … But who would I even talk to? Bobo?” He lets out a bitter laugh before continuing, his voice little more than a whisper as he talks to himself.

“I love him, but … He doesn’t take that stuff seriously, he’s not an emotions guy. A-and Holiday can only afford to waste so much time on me, plus I don’t wanna look LAME  for her. Six is outta the question, he says I shouldn’t even have emotions. A-and … Noah, he’s … I know he says I can talk to him, but I know I don’t do anything but stress him out. I don’t w-want to ruin anything by telling him everything I’m upset about, I’m probably just being a baby about it. I just –” he pauses, and then … when he sees his brother finally stirring, his words speed up.

“I’m t-tired of being hurt. I don’t w-want to be, but … it feels like nobody cares if I get hurt. ‘Cept maybe Holiday. I heal quickly anyways, m-my nanites will fix it … and if anyone even notices, obviously they don’t care. It’s always about gettin’ back to work as soon as I can. I just wanna... I wanna feel appreciated, I--” He hiccupped again, taking a moment to calm down his sobbing and letting the tears all run out, and then … A pause. He was totally silent for a good few minutes. He gets an idea. It’s not really his mom, but again, it’s … close, right? Maybe hearing her say this would help him feel better.

“Computer … ?”

“Yes, REX?”

He’s cautious as he speaks his next words, “Can you .. say, ‘Rex, I love you’?”

“REX, I love you.”

And that … robotic as it may be, as aware as he is that it’s not really his mom, and that it’s not really anyone real.. it placates him greatly. It’s enough to get him to stop his crying entirely, and it’s not long before he’s taking deep breaths to calm himself down. When he’s finally not crying anymore, he wipes at his eyes with the heel of his palms, and he smiles.

“.. Thank you, Computer.”

“You’re welcome, REX.”

He uses his nanite powers to shut off the computer, and with that, he leaves the room. And, hell, he’s still in immense pain, but honestly? He’s cried himself beyond the point of caring. He simply walks out of the room, and starts to head back to his. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks like absolute shit because of how tired he is and how sleepy that crying made him, so he just kind of planned to go to bed, so he made a beeline for his room. However, just inches away from the door, he heard his name be called out – and he looked around, confused, but saw Noah standing in the hall. Why was his crush friend here?

He doesn’t know, but before he can even say a single word, Noah’s charging at him and tackling him in a hug. He’s surprisingly got enough force to tackle him to the ground – if only probably because Rex was in such horrible shape, and he was clearly beaten up pretty bad, so he winces hardcore when he hits the ground. But Noah’s still clinging on his midriff, saying that he scared him, and clearly, he’s been crying – asking what’s wrong, and why did he hang up? Was he mad? Rex just kind of forced an awkward chuckle as he threaded his fingers through Noah’s hair, and then sighed. “It’s … nothing. I’m fine.” He says, unconvincingly. Noah’s trying to ask something, but Rex just waves it off, smile growing strained.

“Dude, I promise, I’ll be fine. Now, did you … bike all the way here? At like … eleven pm?” A pause, and a very red-faced Noah nods, and then … Rex laughs. He can’t believe the blonde did that, all for him! He feels a little bad about it, but he still ushers Noah into his room, and then … the night isn’t so shitty after that. Noah really helps, but knowing he could talk to Computer and that it couldn’t wouldn’t judge helped even more.

Maybe everything will be fine after all.

[btsqualityy]

BTS Baby Series Drabble: Waking The Baby Up

Author’s Note: This drabble is filled with smut! Please don’t read on if it makes you uncomfortable!

Kim Seokjin

“Oh my gosh,” you whimpered as you wrapped your arms around Jin’s neck, your hands settling into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Shit,” Jin hissed as he grinded harder aganist you. He placed his hands on either side of your waist and pulled you closer to the edge of the washing machine so that he was able to slip into you easier.

“Yes, right there,” you moaned out, throwing your head back. Jin smiled and licked a stripe up the length of your now exposed neck, making you shiver. Jin continued to thrust into you quickly, and you could feel your climax approaching. A loud burst of screaming broke through the orgasmic cloud that you were heading into and you froze. Jin did the same, and you both heard the cries become frantic sounding.

“We have sex in the damn laundry room and he still hears us,” Jin groaned, rolling his eyes lightly. 

“I know,” you nodded, sad that you two were interrupted once again and that your orgasm was slowly but surely fading away. “You gonna go get him?”

“I’m too hard to function right now,” Jin sighed dramatically. “Can you go?” You nodded and Jin pulled out of you before you hopped down off the washing machine.

“Where’s my pants and underwear?” You asked, glancing around on the floor. Jin spotted your jeans on the shelf above you and grabbed them before handing them to you.

“Here. No underwear, though. I’m not through with you,” Jin smirked, winking at you.

Min Yoongi

“Yoongs,” You sighed as you laid on on his chest. 

“Hmm?” He wondered, placing both of his hands flat on the small of your back as he rocked into you.

“You feel so fucking good,” You moaned as you turned your head to the side, kissing his lips sloppily.

“Yeah? Missed this cock baby?” He placed his feet flat on the bed and thrust up harder, reaching even deeper inside of you. You groaned loudly and nodded, placing your hands on his forearms. A sudden cry from the baby monitor on the bedside table sounded and it made the both of you look over at it. The crying got louder and more intense, causing both you and Yoongi to groan in frustration.

“I’ll go,” you muttered, pushing yourself up off of Yoongi’s chest. You got off of Yoongi’s lap, his cock slipping out of you making you whine. You quickly grabbed your robe and wrapped it around your body, tying it up around your waist.

“Please hurry up so that I can continue fucking you,” Yoongi pleaded and you giggled and nodded before rushing out of the room to go settle Kinsley.

Kim Namjoon

“Baby, he’s crying,” you whined, your nails raking down Namjoon’s back as he continued to pound into you.

“I hear him but I can’t stop,” Namjoon grunted, leaning down to suck at your neck. “You feel too good wrapped around me.”

“Joonie,” you muttered as you felt his cock swelling inside of you. “Please baby.”

“I know, I know,” he smiled as he kept going. “Want my cum baby?” You nodded quickly and all it took was a few more thrusts before he let himself go, flooding you with his cum. He set his damp forehead aganist yours and stared at you as you both tried to regulate your breathing again.

“Come on, off,” you said, patting his arms. “Go get him.”

“Why do I have to go?” Namjoon whined. “It’s bold of you to even think that I can go anywhere after an orgasm that strong. I’m pretty sure my legs don’t work anymore.”

“You better figure something out then. I’m not about to pick up our child with cum sliding down my thighs.”

“Mm, I like it when my cum slides down your thighs though,” Namjoon smirked as he wriggled his eyebrows at you. You smacked his chest before pushing him.

“Just go!”

Jung Hoseok

“Hobi, shut the hell up,” you whispered through grit teeth as you wound your hips to move up and down on his cock. 

“I can’t baby, you’re riding me too good,” Hobi murmured, bringing his hands up to tweak your nipples. 

“You’re gonna wake one or both of the babies though,” you whispered against his lips as you sped up your pace. Hobi let out an almost feminine moan and placed his hands on your cheeks, bringing you into a seething kiss. 

The telltale cry of one of the twins, Berkeley it sounded like, made you sigh heavily. You tried to slow down your pace but Hobi moved his hands from your face to your hips, holding you in place as he started to plunge into you. The force that he moved his hips with made you freeze and your eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“Just be quiet and she’ll stop,” you suggested, not wanting to have to stop at this point. Hobi nodded and bit down on his lip harshly, trying to keep his moans in. Sure enough, Berkeley’s cries tapered off into nothing and you looked down at Hobi, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I told you that you were gonna wake them up,” you sniped and Hobi smiled apologetically at you.

“Sorry Y/N-ah. Maybe you could punish me?” He suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Park Jimin

“Please Jimin-ssi,” you begged as you watched Jimin delve his tongue in and out of your wet folds, overstimulating you. “I can’t take it.”

He moaned in response and the vibrations aganist your clit made your back arch up from the bed. He finally pulled his mouth away from your center and smirked at you. “Only two orgasms for me Y/N? You’re clearly out of practice baby. Usually I can get at least three out of you with my tongue before you’re pushing me away.”

“Why don’t you fuck me into the third one then?” You smiled and Jimin quickly settled himself in between your legs. He pushed his cock into you slowly, the both of you letting out loud, simultaneous moans at the feeling.

“God, it’s been too fucking long baby,” Jimin said as he began to move in and out of you. 

“Fuck yeah it has,” you nodded as you set your hands on his cheeks. Jimin began to bury his cock inside of you until his hips touched yours on every thrust, which made your mouth fall open. The both of you were letting out a loud string of moans, curses and grunts, completely forgetting that Noah was in the room next to yours. However, you were both quickly reminded after hearing Noah’s crying.

“Shit,” you groaned, throwing your head back in slight annoyance. Jimin pulled himself out of you and got off the bed, searching for his shorts.

“I’ll go settle him back down,” Jimin said as he found his shorts and slipped them on. “And then I’m coming back and fucking you until you can’t walk straight tomorrow,” he announced, making you blush harshly as he walked out of the room. 

Kim Taehyung

The sound of Tae’s hips slamming against your ass sounded throughout the room, intermixed with your loud moans and Tae’s grunts.

“Jagi, as much as I love it when you moan my fucking name,” Tae grunted as he set his hands on your hips. “You’re gonna wake Munchkin if you don’t quiet down.”

“You’re fucking me so good, it’s hard,” you admit, making Tae smirk. He leans down, his back aganist your chest, and places a line of kisses across your shoulder blades. He starts to slowly rotate his hips, making his cock circle inside of you. You grip the bed sheets, trying desperately but failing to keep the volume of your moans down.

“You just can’t help it, can you?” Tae wondered and you shook your head back and forth quickly. Tae took one of his hands off your hip and brought it around the side of your head, placing his hand over your lips. You mumbled against his hand and he smiled as the sound was effectively muffled. However, it was a few seconds too late because Spencer started to scream from her nursery.

Tae waited a few seconds and after she kept crying, he removed his hand from your mouth and slipped out of you. “You wanna go get her?” Tae asked and you shook your head.

“I can’t focus on anything other than how much I want to come right now,” you confessed. “You go.”

“Alright,” he nodded and grabbed his boxers from the floor, putting them on. He walked towards the door and was about to walk out but he stopped, turning back to face you again. “Oh, and don’t touch yourself while I’m gone.”

Jeon Jungkook

Your hand hit Jungkook’s ass, having nothing else to grab or hit as Jungkook thrust himself into you. The both of you had been insanely busy lately, both with work and taking care of Ava so you hadn’t had much time to spend together. Any time you two did have together, you both were too tired to do anything. However, Jungkook had been determined to change that. He got off of work early today, cooked you and him a nice dinner, and even got Ava down to sleep early.

After that, the both of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, Jungkook immediately stripping you of the dress you had on and plunging into you.

“Baby, you have to be quiet,” Jungkook whispered as he brought his hand up to tighten around your neck. “You’re gonna wake up Ave.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, both from the pleasure that he was giving you and from your airway being constricted. “You’re fucking me too deep Kookie.”

“You like it though, don’t you jagi?” He murmured huskily, and you connected your lips with his as an answer. He continued to delve into you, your moans bouncing off the walls. Sure enough, you soon heard Ava’s cry through the baby monitor. Jungkook breathed heavily as he paused his movements.

“Let me go get her back to bed,” Jungkook said as he pulled out of you and slipped on his underwear. “Don’t go to sleep Y/N.”

“I won’t, promise,” you nodded and Jungkook walked out of the room down the hallway to Ava’s nursery. After quickly changing her diaper and rocking her back to sleep, Jungkook walked back down the hallway into your bedroom. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw you underneath the comforter, sleeping peacefully.

“This has got to be some sort of cruel fucking joke,” Jungkook muttered angrily before walking into the bathroom to take care of his still present erection. 

[bondedbrotherhoodau]

Complicated Part 1

Written by @YesImAGlowstick and @VishousBDB_  (AU)

*~*~*~*

Vishous: *I walked into the gym and was glad no one was around. I put my earbuds in and played Nowhere fast by Eminem, as loud as the volume would go. I was trying to drown out the voices in my head, my thoughts, and the world around me. I was getting antsy and the only way to get a quick fix was sex or exercise. And atm I didn’t want to think about the first choice. So cardio and pumping iron it was. I did some quick stretches and then hopped on the treadmill. I started off at a slow jog to warm myself up. One foot in front of the other. Breathe, in through the nose and out the mouth. My arms making a quick pace beside me to match my pace. After about ten mins I jacked the machine up to a four incline and was running at full pace.*

Lassiter:

After my little spontaneous fight club the last time I’d hit the gym, I’d taken a step back from hitting the weights and fucking up the treadmills. Going a few rounds with whoever looked at me had done a lot to let out the last of the guilt and the anger, but that didn’t mean every other part of my life was sunshine and roses.

Between the happily mated pairs and the not so happily mated pairs, I was on struggle street heading uphill with a broken fucking clutch. And fuck me, it wasn’t like I was itching to be paired off. I’d known when I became an Angel, known that serving Him would take priority over all else. The past centuries I’d done my best to avoid the kinds of emotional connections that would cripple me if He ordered me away. How was I supposed to survive centuries of constantly losing loved ones?

Yet undeniably, all the Brothers and their mates meant more to me now than simple tasks set by Him for completion. If the Creator chose to pull me away, I would bleed inside.

That didn’t change the fact I was all but itching to get away from them right now. And thank fuck, The Pit was far enough away from the gym that I could pretend I couldn’t hear Vishous tapping away at a keyboard, or listening to a Red Sox game, on repeat, that nobody but Vishous, Butch and the Red Sox cared about.

Pushing open the gym door, I almost fell over myself in an effort to come to a dead stop.

“Oh motherfucker…”

If I backed out slowly… I could still get away. No sudden movements. No further expletives. Just leave…

Vishous: *I was sweating. My black shirt clung to my body like a second skin. I powered through my legs feeling like they were going to collapse. The pain shooting through my muscles a much welcome distraction. After a few more mins I could feel my body reaching a numbing point. I ran and ran until my playlist started to repeat itself. My body spent, I put the incline to zero and walked for a minute or two before turning it off. Shower. I popped out my earbuds and peeled off my shirt. That’s when I noticed the angel. He was staring hard.*

Lassiter:

Those diamond eyes locked on me as I stood in the frame, caught on the precipice of what was arguably heaven n’ hell. Somehow swallowing the slew of curses that ‘really’ wanted to come out, I reminded myself that I couldn’t pussy out. Instead I wrenched my gaze off the male and picked a bench halfway across the room, beelining it for the leather and throwing my towel over it.

Rather than glance back over at Vishous, all glistening skin and fearsome features, I grabbed a few discs of weight and racked them on.

Vishous: *His white gaze shifted and I waited for him to say something but instead he moved to the complete opposite side of the gym and was busy with weights. I went to my locker and as I opened the door, my phone buzzed in the pocket of my gym shorts. I pulled it out and had to bite back a curse. It was from Tohr saying I was on rotation with Lassiter tonight, because cop had tests to set up for the trainees. Fuck. I put my phone on the shelf in the locker and took off my shorts. I grabbed my towel and went to the showers.*

Lassiter:

Vishous doing the shortless walk to the showers did NOT escape my attention, FYI. That motherfucker’s rear was clearly crafted by Gods, though hopefully not his mother. Ew. Awkward thoughts…

I’d barely finished racking on the weight when my phone buzzed. I almost leapt on it, needing the distraction, hoping it was Tohr with a job to do or a request. I’d even play delivery boy tonight if it got me away from the manse.

But of course…

A string of colorful words left my lips at the directive to go on rotation with Vishous, and for the first time in a long time I almost considered replying with a ‘no’, or perhaps a ‘fuck no’. Then again…

Casting a glance toward the showers, I took a deep breath and tried to think it through. It wasn’t like we’d be doing anything but patrolling and fighting. And a good fight… damn, I kind of needed the exertion. I kind of needed to hit something.

Tucking the phone back into my pocket, I unloaded the weights and strode toward the showers. Stepping onto the tiled floor, steam wafted out to greet me, my hair sitting flat as I peered through the mists to find Vishous.

“Yo,” I called, my voice nice and steady. “We’re working tonight. Where do you wanna meet up? Upstairs or downtown?”

Vishous: *I turned the knobs to pretty fucking hot and stepped under the pounding spray of the shower head. I grabbed the shampoo and did quick work of washing my hair before moving to the bar of soap and giving my body a wash. The hot water felt good on my sore muscles. The sound of the water slapping against the tiles was calming. I put both palms flat against the tile wall and just let the water run over my head, chest, and shoulders. I heard footsteps come into the shower room and I turned my head to see lassiter a few feet away. I turned of the water and stepped out to grab my towel off the hook. I quickly began to dry myself off and wrapped it around my hips. I bit back a curse. I was hard as a rock. The towel did nothing to hide “it”. * Give me an hour and meet me on top of the iron mask?

Lassiter:

“A whole hour?” I muse, arching a brow at the request. “What, you gotta do your makeup n’ your hair or some shit? Don’t worry V, you’re pretty without all that extra shit,” I offer, doing my damndest to be both cheery and annoying. Judging by the look on the male’s face, I was hitting the target dead on.

And I mean, it wasn’t like I was wrong. Vishous /was/ pretty. The whole ‘son of a deity’ was working for him when I breezed in to see his glorious form all but splayed against the wall. Running water, steam, and an ass carved out of marble.

Was it possible to tempt angels into Hell like this? Cause dayum, I was suddenly grateful that He had never put a caveat on impure thoughts. I’d never get out of Hell.

“Aight, I’ll give you your hour. I’ma shower n’ get ready myself.”

But oh… did I dare shower down here? …nah, probably a bad idea.

Vishous: *The angel had his way of annoying the fuck out of me but at least it let up the tension in the air. I started towards my lockers and pulled out my leathers and shitkickers. Making quick work of getting dressed, I called back.* Yea cold steel is goin to look real fucking pretty. *I closed the locker up and walked out of the training center. I was headed to the pit, without another word to Lassiter.*

Lassiter:

Well… I guess that solved that problem. Being so annoying as to drive the male off was one way to get the showers to myself. As he went for his locker I shrugged, trying to ignore the twisty feelings in my gut and instead stripped off my shirt. Kicking off my sweats and joggers, I took one of the still cold showers and cranked the tap into ‘melt my fucking bones’ hot.

Yeah yeah, I can hear you all cautioning that I should’ve been having a cold shower, but hey, he was about to leave and I had the place to myself. Hot was gonna be fine.

Rolling my shoulders, I felt the scar down my back pull only slightly. Weeks of training and conditioning until I could barely feel the thing had done the trick, though I still didn’t bother summoning my wings anymore. And ironically, Vishous was one of the few I could tolerate showing it to at any point. Vishous had scars of his own - in that… we matched. Sadly.

Vishous: *I had dressed in my leathers and loaded up my dagger and gun holsters, checking everything a second time. I was really fucking hoping I wouldn’t have to use them. The night would be a quick recon and I could get back home and start drinking to forget all about Lassiter. To forget about cop. To forget who the fuck I was. I stepped outside the mansion and demateralized to the top of the iron mask. I lit up a handrolled as I waited for the angel.*

Lassiter:

The shower was magic, if not lonely, and rather than don my usual visually aggressive clothing line afterward, I instead pulled on the leather, shitkickers and all black ensembles the males were used to rocking in the night. Some days I figured they were all just shy of a few extra props to get a YMCA dance going.

A hop skip and a jump of ghosting across town and I appeared on the rooftop near Vishous, in invisi mode. I appreciated the view, and ironically, I wasn’t talking about the male. After a few seconds, I popped into existence beside him. Dear Creator, let this night not be a clusterfuck.

“Evening.”

Vishous: *As the angel appeared beside me I had just finished my smoke and was putting the butt in my breast pocket. My diamond eyes gave the angel a once over.* We start with the rooftops and then check the alleys. You move when I move. If its all quiet after a few hours we get to split as per Tohr. *Part of me wanted a good fight. The other part wanted to drink myself into a coma.*

Lassiter:

“No shit Sherlock,” I reply cheerfully, trying not to give Vishous the finger as he treated me like some rookie who’d never been on a rotation before. Some days it was a struggle not to remind these grouchy motherfuckers I was actually older than them. Respect your elders, bitches.

“Here’s hoping all the ickle Lessers are safe at home in their beds n’ we have a cruisy night. Dunno about you, but m’ not really in the mood for your bright n’ shiny personality,” I add bluntly, still faking the whole cheery smile routine. I was an angel, after all.

Vishous: Ditto angel. *I demateralized a few buildings down and into a nearby alley. I crouched low staying close to the building before I rounded the corner. A black truck hid me as I peeked around. I could smell them before they were even close. Baby powder and rot filled my nose. I wanted to gag. I didn’t bother turning around or waiting for Lassiter to keep up. He was tight on my ass. Had to give him props when it came to hunting. Gone was the cheery eyed school girl. Lassiter was all business. I whispered.* “I count three of them about a mile out. They smell new.” *I palmed a dagger and waited.*

Lassiter:

“Sure, if ‘new’ is rancid three week old meat and sugar,” I mutter, taking a deep breath and getting the same whiff of putrefaction.

Noting V drawing a dagger, I opted for the silent method too, ignoring the twin glocks and going for a nine inch stainless steel blade that’d slide home between a Lessers ribs no problem. I, however, wasn’t locked into the whole ‘hide and seek’ thing. Stepping past V, I shot him a quick look, my voice a whisper.

“Play distraction as they get closer.”

There were perks to being an angel. I didn’t have to dematerialize to go invisible, instead vanishing from sight and moving down the street like the grim fucking reaper, leaving Vishous in the shadow of the truck. Getting into place behind the Lessers, I mirrored their steps as they got closer to V’s spot.

The Creator himself could ask me and I’d deny it, but being on the other side as Lessers approached Vishous got my heart rate jacked. Regardless of our bullshit… protecting the male was right now at the top of my ‘to do’ list.

Vishous: *I stepped out of the shadows as Lassiter called it distraction. I knew the angel was near. Did I trust him not to get my ass killed? Short answer? Yes. The lessers caught a glimpse of me and started running. I didn’t see any automatic weapons so I didn’t draw my glocks. Instead, I widen my stance and moved in a blur of speed. I plunged my dagger in the chest cavity of the first lesser. He let out a screech and then pop. Flash of light and the fucker was gone. I turned toward the second but didn’t move fast enough before he sliced up my bicep with the butterfly knife he was carrying. I forced myself to kick the lesser, crushing his knee cap and sending him stumbling over. I backed up to give myself space, that’s when I saw the angel.*

Lassiter:

Good to see that as distracting as Vishous could be for me, he was even more so with Lessers. Whoop-di-fucking-do-dah.

Despite their running act, as soon as the two moved forward to engage V, I came up behind the third. Putting the invisible man to shame, I used the little blinding light moment from the Brother’s popped Lesser to insert my knife right through the top of the demon’s spine. The rest of his body went limp, his weapon clattering from lifeless fingers as his meat sack crumpled into a pile. Before I could drop down to provide my own little light show, everything shifted.

The scent of V’s blood in the air hit me like a truck. I didn’t think as I became visible again, my head whipping around to see the Lesser staggering back from the vampire, catching sight of me. V’s arm leaked red; the only color I saw as I darted forward. I barely felt the kiss of the blade as the Omega’s spawn took a slice at me. It glanced off my shoulder, silver blood spattering the concrete. I snarled, seizing the things head and wrenching it sideways. Its neck broke with a loud SNAP.

His body hit the pavement. My knife went for his heart. With another burst of sound and light, the corpse was gone. I looked to V.

“I said distract them, not introduce yourself to their weapons,” I managed, my tone mercifully even. “That cut deep?”

Vishous: *The angel made quick work of the remaining lessers and I have to say, the male was good with his hands. The adrenaline in my blood was so thick I didn’t feel the pain in my bicep…yet. I looked at my arm and holstered my daggers.* I’ll live angel. *A smirk on my puss as I went in my pocket to get out a smoke. I didn’t have time to react to what happened next. Fuck me this was sloppy. Noob move. I should of scanned better. My legs buckled and sent me flying face down kissing the concrete. I heard Lassiter saying something but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. My vision was blurry and getting dark. I tried to get up but my body was failing me.* Lassiter! *I screamed his name.*

Lassiter:

‘I’ll live’.

Famous last words.

The bullet ripped through the vampire like he was butter. For one impossible second my brain struggled to process it. The spray of blood. The whiplash of his body. The echoing crack that finally followed, the sound so much slower than the metal.

Then I was moving. Vishous hit the pavement and I was over him, my body a shield. Sliding my arms under his I dragged, hauling his leather coated rear out of the line of fire until we were tucked against the building.

“V! Vishous!”

I was snarling his name, but even if I’d screamed it he wasn’t about to pop those diamond eyes and flash me a smile. My fingers pressed against his throat, adrenaline hitting every nerve and frying my concentration until I felt that wonderful, incredible thing.

Tha-thump.

A pulse. He was out for the count but he wasn’t dead. But now I had two problems. Getting Vishous back to the med suite, and doing so without also getting my head blown off. Logic dictated I find the Lesser and rip him to pieces, but logic so often took a back seat for this sort of shit that now was no exception.

I ghosted, leaving the shelter of the building in my invisi state and flying down the street to the nearest car. If you think I cared that it had one window made of duct tape and barely four wheels, you’re dead fucking wrong. It was a stallion, a chariot, Willy Wonka’s magic elevator. It was the escape hatch and I broke into that bitch and started her like it was the Fast and the Furious and Vin Diesel was waiting for me to race.

Screaming back down the street, I jerked the car around and threw open the door. It offered some modicum of a shield, but already I could feel the hood of the car taking punishment. Dragging the male into the car, I didn’t wait for the door to shut properly before I stepped on the gas and lurched us forward. The windshield pinged, shards of glass scattering over me as bullets made almost perfect holes. A dodged lamp post, a mounted curb, and the car lurched onto a new street. The rain of gunfire ceased.

“Vishous!”

Glancing over at the male, I cursed and fumbled my phone out of my coat. A near flat battery. The time leered out at me from the screen. Just when I thought I’d lost a problem, I gained a new one. Dawn was barely twenty minutes off. Much as I liked to think this piece of crap stallion would make the manse in time, there was no way in hell.

I swung off the main road and changed direction, my brain racing ahead. There were parking garages and storage areas nearby that would provide the privacy and shade I’d need for the male for the day, but if I didn’t get to one fast enough, it wouldn’t matter. He was bleeding, and the amount of blood was upping my anxiety about a billion.

“Vishous! I need you to wake the fuck up and answer me!”

Vishous: *I was floating and Lassiter came to me with those huge white and silver tipped wings of his. I knew they were incredibly soft. I had touched them more than a few times. They felt like fucking clouds, being so strong as to lift the angel gracefully towards me. Everything was white so as shiny as Lassiter usually is he actually stood out from the background. He lifted me up in his arms. For some reason I couldn’t move a fucking muscle. I looked into his white eyes and for the first time in a while I felt comfort. The angel smiled at me and before I could ask a question he shook his head and I could hear him yelling for me to wake up. The sound was distant. Then it came closer, and closer until I closed my eyes and opened them again. Lassiter was driving and I tried to answer him in a raspy voice.* Miss me?

*~*~*~*~*~* End Part 1 *~*~*~*~*~*

#Complicated #BondedBrothersAU

[glopratchet]

astryl-wondering

and he shouts at Cludstrum to stop his program from causing harm and with a sword in hand and says "I am Cludstrum, I have been sent here by my masters to kill you and he bites and eats dirt and sand from the barren dessert that he is in a little demon who is worshiping his God turned the area and stained with blood like the color of grass He thirstily asks "For how long must I live in this barren land? Clay penises A furry armchair seat with a maw in its backside, which is interpreted as a fertility symbol since birth because he wakes up on the forest floor next to a well he had fallen into previously in a Yinnie and Turtle dance the following ngiht: Pledge for the Succubi Incubi Party, Please vote for us, tomorrow! and an alarm will sound warning about a hostile if it detects an aggressive action meaning that stress levels are at maximum and performance is at minimum for vital functions based on line of sight from anyone in those hexes and how noisy it would be Due to exhaustion and hunger priority is given to rest and hunger and failure, he looks up and to his surprise Yinnie and Turtle smile down on him so many times before, he bows down on one knee and puts a palm across his heart he says "Why have you chosen this weakling to grace him with your presence? " "What do you want me to do? but other than that, it is just him and the former demons since astryl dos not know the demon realm sent the computer virus He is quite surprised the two coudl change his mind so quickly and delusion Was it peer pressure? or was it change he wanted? or did he want to slowly perfect himself from the inside out? and die, but another strong memory which is contradicted by the other makes him forget what to do Gorram it! along with a news summary from before the blackout with an extremely hot wind pushing large volumes of sand all over 's code that contain his priorities, changing them around to an unknown end but that's just a name that has been given to them These things leave some bits completely alone no matter how much they are prodded to devour them and astryl is experiencing some sort or identity escesthesia That was just a fancy word for he changes his mind a lot through the script, digit It's a handle but no profile can be pulled up to tell what species they are or anything really It is immensely difficult to communicate or perform any task what so ever flat vector Cludstrom confirms that this the same Mr digit who clued him on the codex You could ask the contacts, but they would mostly say no because astryl would seem out of character to them but if he has the directions to mr digit from before, finding it again should be no problem In that order but then start working agian in 5 minutes and then will 'discover' the virus and then after that, it is game over Sending you back to the ui at one point but then interupted by the virus and allow you to continue the cycle of events The countdown reads 7 hours and 4 min Gorram light rain is falling now, you need to get mr since cludstrom seems to shy away from social interacions "That's what astryl is for" listed before but he fears the rain might wash them away The sun was blocked to such an end affect that the crops inside were spore like and minature like a strand of hair Astryl's soul is unageing, that much is true Only feeble minded mortal-like need for such things You're still very much afraid of what the whole sandbox reality push is to you the other bits like the moldy vikes and dirty calendars just crumble in his hands and excrete other things but not before cloaking himself in moldy flyers But before all this can be done there is an issue of social interaction "You need to get mr digit to start fixing the communications lines Me and you just ain't on the same platform darlin'" What a strange word edible is Social interaction cannot always be verbal speech But most objects have a quality that make them a higher or lower quality most objects are concieved from the fungal mold that grows into them Like bread his hands into Too much technology or use and they overload crashing around him The mite ink clogs things up and mess something aflated Usually the tourch works by exothermic oxidation but it uses too much fuel and other elements that are very rare and hard to find that has water so he would not die from too much dryness but it may have some element unknown to him that is toxic or uneeded by the body until he become too angry to do anything but this will take him a very long time A shadow comes over him Is it from the monoliths towering over his head? since it only reacts when he already captures and immobilizes in with his mercy gloves But something worse happens some kind of colony its called Jansenns Shpawn the town of magos toktek a camp called the hym camp A place to rest in the desert is a cave that belongs to a large worm named Robert you realize have gotten yourself easily lost you begin to search for some kind of hole or crevasse that you can use as shelter disover the entrance to robert the digger and his wife lucys hiding place breaks his nosed which breaks the rotten wood of roberts house Snap goes the wooden beam and then smashing nose waits for his tormentor to awaken and find him just as helpless in the dark Edgar and the crystal's in his eye would hurt if it was not for some strange numbing quality of this bosom "Jev! Still dizzy from concussion astryl turns toward the name of his dead flutemate "Edgar? his sadness to a fine point "Here" Taking out the battery that makes the most noise Aries places it on the ground "feel better? silence is not enough, as always you have to comply with this fool's inept rules "better "do you wanna help me? bruising his swollen cheek "with what! "I need to get all the power crystals out of the weird machines that are blinky and make noise finding another dead thing to play with "ok I will find the rest of the machines and congregate them in this are " Edgar responds enthusiastically to a dead night and wrong scent The dunes were orange not white his situation over and over He can't quite place it but every instinct he has is that something here is terribly wrong? with great care as if the stone ground would shatter to pieces below him, he touchs his pain throbing nose to taste the wetness, carefully putting on his headache one handed It hurt to smile bile in the bushes as his brown eyes glare at the vile magos has instructed him, he raises his shaking arm to shoot the flesh ichor at filth lying to the ratling bastards that outnumber him 4: 1 about how he doesn't have access to any water for them under the same rock as last night watching the gray monsters feast on robert and his wife the light of a crimson sun from his eyes as he and the giant metal man stare at a machine that makes noise and lights up colors an undercurrent of hostility in the magos' asinsault "impossible, " he finishes lamely at his sunburn as he carries the power source from the noisy box back to his waiting overseer the magos' orders via the ad mech's encrypted ECT signal "Found primary site Have exhumed items to feel secure with the blanket tossed over his shoulders by his eccentric benefactor greater intellect with higher grade nutrients and accelerate his evolution so that he may become a cog in the xeno's machine that will transcend humanity the flat scorched earth lit by a ghastly blue sun to join his tribe out the failing noise bleed from the site They will drown in waves of static soon Edgar climbs the ridged gypsum dunes with surprising agility down on you viciously Bloodying your lip, filling your mouth with an unwelcoming copper taste inordinate the multicolored sun pellets at the nearby mutants, as he turns to look the Magos' on his vox across the great landscape expecting to see the blue of an oasis or the green of vegetation his pale hide as he lays on the top of his dwelling place Gideon is nothing more now than another crackling, charred skeleton language parameters, Truth Speak binary for highpoint perches in the formation that would grant him maximum line of sight the men of an approaching dust storm so they may batten down the hatches of the complex and looting the corpses of fallen travelers on the trade route an increasing awareness of the charlatan that the magos has honed him into on a hummus and levantine flatbread sandwich If he didn't know any better, he'd swear that it had oasis juice squeezed into it on his ex-wife's guts as he tears them from her stomach and uses them to choke her to death swarms of rabid ratlings to sabotage large scale attacks solely on the gruel-like food rations and brown water that pass for Of content as the machine slave of a multicolored abomination an eternity in a sensory deprivation tank and becoming One with the emperors loving pulse Kludstrm schematic spending an eternity in a sensory deprivation tank and becoming One with the emperors loving pulse the culprit's DNA to previous crimes an old militia classic as his Depends, haphazardly rigged with explosives, obliterate the terrorist hiding behind before the advancing night, crimsons, purples, and violets flooding the skies in the blue dusk with only a single lamp post for company ever so slightly as multiple systems fail on what the ironmen believe to be an terrorist attack with a million shades of red and orange as the magos' firebomb takes hold furrowing her brow on the front of the magos' robes' deep green field Again, reality splits By the end of the sixth rotation, you're in dire need of a break, but fortunately you've gotten good at sideways thinking on your mental feet, The arrival of the Null Rats has altered far too much and the shadows have noticed you wandering this path

[thinkgloriathink]

Should we blame people for their shortcomings, moral slips, and misjudgments, or should we attribute them to bad design?

(note from the future 3/1/17: My goodness-- I just found out today that this very topic I tried to explore in this post has been discussed and debated amongst intellectuals for like... ages. Lots of economists/sociologists/etc. seem to really like exploring this dichotomy between a more “constrained” vs. a more “unconstrained” vision of society. Wanna read more about all of this stuff? Read “A Conflict of Visions” by Thomas Sowell. On my reading list. Yes. Awwwww yea...)

So I've been reading a lot over winter break, and I was half way through the book "The Design of Everyday Things" by Don Norman, when I sort of started thinking about a big central question:

Should we blame people for their shortcomings, moral slips, and misjudgment, or should we attribute it to bad design?

We can't practically change human nature on the large scale— we can’t force or expect people to be highly competent, even-tempered, and morally infallible. Don Norman argues that we could adapt the policies and systems we build to be designed for fault-prone humans. When things go wrong, we should try to get ourselves used to saying that it’s not bad people, but bad design.

His idea is reassuring to us because he reminds us that the blunders and struggles we have with some everyday machines are more likely a result of poor design, rather than a reflection of our incompetence. Take this all too common situation: you’re in a hotel room, go to the shower, and you realize that you have no idea how to operate it. It’s got four knobs, no instructions, and you’re basically left to guess which one controls the heat and which one controls the water flow. You stand there, scratching your head for five minutes or scalding yourself by accident, feeling embarrassed because your half-million dollar investment in an elite education did nothing at all to help you figure out something as “simple” as a shower. Nah man, it’s the shower’s fault. Bad design.

Norman claims that the best sort of design is something that has the right restrictions, guard-rails, and simplifications— basically, HUMAN centered design. As you could probably tell by now, he takes a very practical approach to his design philosophy, and doesn’t really buy into the whole “they should know better” kind of bullshit.

A washing machine with fifty different switches and controls might be able to give you wickedly clean delicates at customizable temperatures and spinning speeds, but it’s not doing its job right if all this makes people skip straight to the default settings every time. He’s making the argument that, more often than not, it’s not always the sole quality of the result that measures a machine’s greatness, but a balance between the overall user experience it provides and that result.

It wasn’t hard for me to absorb and agree with a lot of what he was saying in his book. If you were to boil down his arguments and first principle assumptions about people, you’ll get that he lays down his groundwork by saying that humans are fundamentally prone to making errors, and therefore the oversights and mistakes they make sometimes while using technologies should be blamed more on bad design than bad people.

Why did the plane crash? Because the wing didn’t rotate like it should. Why? Because the pilot lost control of the wing. Why? Because the pilot was unconscious. Why? Because there was a gas tank leak in the back of the plane. Why? Because there was a faulty knob made of cheap metal that split open and broke. THAT is something that can be fixed and can save lives in the future.

SO Don Norman argues that people are meant to mess up, and we need proper design to accommodate for that.

This subtle shifting of blame from individuals to overall system design got me thinking about things like morality and policy. Does this viewpoint also apply to moral infractions?

Have you heard of the quote: “Don’t hate the player, hate the game”? It’s sort of like that.

Why is this important or relevant? Because I think the way people answer this question might be telling of the kinds of policies they might support or even perhaps shine light upon political views.

In The Righteous Mind by Jonathan Haidt, Haidt constructs two hypothetical “ideal societies” based upon the contrasting ideas of John Stuart Mill and Emile Durkheim. They both have two very different starting assumptions about people. Millian assumes people are generally good and should be allowed to maximize their free will. Durkheimian assumes people will tend to misbehave if they aren’t bound by social mores and duty. A Durkheimian world is one that values duty and social contracts, self-control over self-expression, and duty over rights.

You could interpret that like this: A Millian society puts more emphasis on the individual and less on the “design”, while a Durkheimian (and Norman-like) society is all about less individual and more focus on “design.”

In many ways, assuming that people are inherently good, and acting upon that assumption produces a lot of promising perks. Assuming the best about people is what grants us a lot of our luxuries, freedoms, and niceties. This gives you a lot of win-win situations.

We’ll be able to step away from our desk at the library for two minutes to get a coffee without having to chain all of our stuff down with lock and key

If we assume that people are good, and won’t all steal from each other at any open opportunity, and we’re able to enjoy having free toilet paper and soap in our public restrooms (for example). This kind of system benefits everybody, as long as people agree to practice moderation and look down upon those who overuse/abuse the free luxury.

Here is where assuming the best about people goes bad, and where disagreements might occur:

The school system in Rhode Island is sort of messed up: School districts fire teachers in June and rehire them in September so that they can collect unemployment benefits. Unfair, isn’t it? You’re talking entire districts and thousands of people that are entangled in this whole mess of nastiness. Does this mean all the teachers and the people in the board of education are depraved people for benefiting from this loophole? That’s a stretch. It’s a difficult process to stop, as doing “the right thing” means taking away a significant source of income these people may have been depending on.

Take a good look at the folks who frequent all-you-can-eat buffets, and you’ll notice that some people do some really morally questionable things: they starve themselves for two days in preparation before going in, load up their plates with the priciest food items in the buffet line, and gorge themselves so they could get the most bang out of their buck. What they are doing is technically legal, and the “design” of all-you-can-eat buffets permits this behavior. So if this behavior is done so rampantly that these restaurants eventually go bankrupt, what would you say is the problem? Bad people, or bad design?

So I want to tie this back to Don Norman and design. Do you agree with him about assuming the worst about people? And do you think his argument about people’s unavoidable tendencies to mess up have external validity in other things beyond design too?

[bondedbrotherhoodau]

One night

written by @VishousBDB_ and @YesIamGlowstick

#BondedBrothersAU

Vishous: *I walked into the gym and was glad no one was around. I put my earbuds in and played Nowhere fast by Eminem, as loud as the volume would go. I was trying to drown out the voices in my head, my thoughts, and the world around me. I was getting antsy and the only way to get a quick fix was sex or exercise. And atm I didn’t want to think about the first choice. So cardio and pumping iron it was. I did some quick stretches and then hopped on the treadmill. I started off at a slow jog to warm myself up. One foot in front of the other. Breathe, in through the nose and out the mouth. My arms making a quick pace beside me to match my pace. After about ten mins I jacked the machine up to a four incline and was running at full pace.*

  Lassiter:

After my little spontaneous fight club the last time I’d hit the gym, I’d taken a step back from hitting the weights and fucking up the treadmills. Going a few rounds with whoever looked at me had done a lot to let out the last of the guilt and the anger, but that didn’t mean every other part of my life was sunshine and roses.

 Between the happily mated pairs and the not so happily mated pairs, I was on struggle street heading uphill with a broken fucking clutch. And fuck me, it wasn’t like I was itching to be paired off. I’d known when I became an Angel, known that serving Him would take priority over all else. The past centuries I’d done my best to avoid the kinds of emotional connections that would cripple me if He ordered me away. How was I supposed to survive centuries of constantly losing loved ones?

 Yet undeniably, all the Brothers and their mates meant more to me now than simple tasks set by Him for completion. If the Creator chose to pull me away, I would bleed inside. 

 That didn’t change the fact I was all but itching to get away from them right now. And thank fuck, The Pit was far enough away from the gym that I could pretend I couldn’t hear Vishous tapping away at a keyboard, or listening to a Red Sox game, on repeat, that nobody but Vishous, Butch and the Red Sox cared about.

 Pushing open the gym door, I almost fell over myself in an effort to come to a dead stop.

 “Oh motherfucker…”

 If I backed out slowly… I could still get away. No sudden movements. No further expletives. Just leave…

  Vishous: *I was sweating. My black shirt clung to my body like a second skin. I powered through my legs feeling like they were going to collapse. The pain shooting through my muscles a much welcome distraction. After a few more mins I could feel my body reaching a numbing point. I ran and ran until my playlist started to repeat itself. My body spent, I put the incline to zero and walked for a minute or two before turning it off. Shower. I popped out my earbuds and peeled off my shirt. That's when I noticed the angel. He was staring hard.*

  Lassiter: 

Those diamond eyes locked on me as I stood in the frame, caught on the precipice of what was arguably heaven n’ hell. Somehow swallowing the slew of curses that ‘really’ wanted to come out, I reminded myself that I couldn’t pussy out. Instead I wrenched my gaze off the male and picked a bench halfway across the room, beelining it for the leather and throwing my towel over it. 

 Rather than glance back over at Vishous, all glistening skin and fearsome features, I grabbed a few discs of weight and racked them on. 

  Vishous: *His white gaze shifted and I waited for him to say something but instead he moved to the complete opposite side of the gym and was busy with weights. I went to my locker and as I opened the door, my phone buzzed in the pocket of my gym shorts. I pulled it out and had to bite back a curse. It was from Tohr saying I was on rotation with Lassiter tonight, because cop had tests to set up for the trainees. Fuck. I put my phone on the shelf in the locker and took off my shorts. I grabbed my towel and went to the showers.* 

  Lassiter: 

Vishous doing the shortless walk to the showers did NOT escape my attention, FYI. That motherfucker’s rear was clearly crafted by Gods, though hopefully not his mother. Ew. Awkward thoughts…

 I’d barely finished racking on the weight when my phone buzzed. I almost leapt on it, needing the distraction, hoping it was Tohr with a job to do or a request. I’d even play delivery boy tonight if it got me away from the manse.

 But of course…

 A string of colorful words left my lips at the directive to go on rotation with Vishous, and for the first time in a long time I almost considered replying with a ‘no’, or perhaps a ‘fuck no’. Then again…

 Casting a glance toward the showers, I took a deep breath and tried to think it through. It wasn’t like we’d be doing anything but patrolling and fighting. And a good fight… damn, I kind of needed the exertion. I kind of needed to hit something.

 Tucking the phone back into my pocket, I unloaded the weights and strode toward the showers. Stepping onto the tiled floor, steam wafted out to greet me, my hair sitting flat as I peered through the mists to find Vishous.

 “Yo,” I called, my voice nice and steady. “We’re working tonight. Where do you wanna meet up? Upstairs or downtown?”

  Vishous: *I turned the knobs to pretty fucking hot and stepped under the pounding spray of the shower head. I grabbed the shampoo and did quick work of washing my hair before moving to the bar of soap and giving my body a wash. The hot water felt good on my sore muscles. The sound of the water slapping against the tiles was calming. I put both palms flat against the tile wall and just let the water run over my head, chest, and shoulders. I heard footsteps come into the shower room and I turned my head to see lassiter a few feet away. I turned of the water and stepped out to grab my towel off the hook. I quickly began to dry myself off and wrapped it around my hips. I bit back a curse. I was hard as a rock. The towel did nothing to hide “it”. * Give me an hour and meet me on top of the iron mask? 

  Lassiter: 

“A whole hour?” I muse, arching a brow at the request. “What, you gotta do your makeup n’ your hair or some shit? Don’t worry V, you’re pretty without all that extra shit,” I offer, doing my damndest to be both cheery and annoying. Judging by the look on the male’s face, I was hitting the target dead on. 

 And I mean, it wasn’t like I was wrong. Vishous /was/ pretty. The whole ‘son of a deity’ was working for him when I breezed in to see his glorious form all but splayed against the wall. Running water, steam, and an ass carved out of marble.

 Was it possible to tempt angels into Hell like this? Cause dayum, I was suddenly grateful that He had never put a caveat on impure thoughts. I’d never get out of Hell.

 “Aight, I’ll give you your hour. I’ma shower n’ get ready myself.”

 But oh… did I dare shower down here? ...nah, probably a bad idea.

  Vishous: *The angel had his way of annoying the fuck out of me but at least it let up the tension in the air. I started towards my lockers and pulled out my leathers and shitkickers. Making quick work of getting dressed, I called back.* Yea cold steel is goin to look real fucking pretty. *I closed the locker up and walked out of the training center. I was headed to the pit, without another word to Lassiter.* 

  Lassiter: 

Well… I guess that solved that problem. Being so annoying as to drive the male off was one way to get the showers to myself. As he went for his locker I shrugged, trying to ignore the twisty feelings in my gut and instead stripped off my shirt. Kicking off my sweats and joggers, I took one of the still cold showers and cranked the tap into ‘melt my fucking bones’ hot. 

 Yeah yeah, I can hear you all cautioning that I should’ve been having a cold shower, but hey, he was about to leave and I had the place to myself. Hot was gonna be fine. 

 Rolling my shoulders, I felt the scar down my back pull only slightly. Weeks of training and conditioning until I could barely feel the thing had done the trick, though I still didn’t bother summoning my wings anymore. And ironically, Vishous was one of the few I could tolerate showing it to at any point. Vishous had scars of his own - in that… we matched. Sadly.

  Vishous: *I had dressed in my leathers and loaded up my dagger and gun holsters, checking everything a second time. I was really fucking hoping I wouldn't have to use them. The night would be a quick recon and I could get back home and start drinking to forget all about Lassiter. To forget about cop. To forget who the fuck I was. I stepped outside the mansion and demateralized to the top of the iron mask. I lit up a handrolled as I waited for the angel.*

 Lassiter:

The shower was magic, if not lonely, and rather than don my usual visually aggressive clothing line afterward, I instead pulled on the leather, shitkickers and all black ensembles the males were used to rocking in the night. Some days I figured they were all just shy of a few extra props to get a YMCA dance going.

 A hop skip and a jump of ghosting across town and I appeared on the rooftop near Vishous, in invisi mode. I appreciated the view, and ironically, I wasn’t talking about the male. After a few seconds, I popped into existence beside him. Dear Creator, let this night not be a clusterfuck. 

 “Evening.”

  Vishous: *As the angel appeared beside me I had just finished my smoke and was putting the butt in my breast pocket. My diamond eyes gave the angel a once over.* We start with the rooftops and then check the alleys. You move when I move. If its all quiet after a few hours we get to split as per Tohr. *Part of me wanted a good fight. The other part wanted to drink myself into a coma.*

  Lassiter:

“No shit Sherlock,” I reply cheerfully, trying not to give Vishous the finger as he treated me like some rookie who’d never been on a rotation before. Some days it was a struggle not to remind these grouchy motherfuckers I was actually older than them. Respect your elders, bitches.

 “Here’s hoping all the ickle Lessers are safe at home in their beds n’ we have a cruisy night. Dunno about you, but m’ not really in the mood for your bright n’ shiny personality,” I add bluntly, still faking the whole cheery smile routine. I was an angel, after all.

  Vishous: Ditto angel. *I demateralized a few buildings down and into a nearby alley. I crouched low staying close to the building before I rounded the corner. A black truck hid me as I peeked around. I could smell them before they were even close. Baby powder and rot filled my nose. I wanted to gag. I didn't bother turning around or waiting for Lassiter to keep up. He was tight on my ass. Had to give him props when it came to hunting. Gone was the cheery eyed school girl. Lassiter was all business. I whispered.* “I count three of them about a mile out. They smell new.” *I palmed a dagger and waited.* 

  Lassiter: 

“Sure, if ‘new’ is rancid three week old meat and sugar,” I mutter, taking a deep breath and getting the same whiff of putrefaction.

 Noting V drawing a dagger, I opted for the silent method too, ignoring the twin glocks and going for a nine inch stainless steel blade that’d slide home between a Lessers ribs no problem. I, however, wasn’t locked into the whole ‘hide and seek’ thing. Stepping past V, I shot him a quick look, my voice a whisper.

 “Play distraction as they get closer.”

 There were perks to being an angel. I didn’t have to dematerialize to go invisible, instead vanishing from sight and moving down the street like the grim fucking reaper, leaving Vishous in the shadow of the truck. Getting into place behind the Lessers, I mirrored their steps as they got closer to V’s spot. 

 The Creator himself could ask me and I’d deny it, but being on the other side as Lessers approached Vishous got my heart rate jacked. Regardless of our bullshit… protecting the male was right now at the top of my ‘to do’ list.

  Vishous: *I stepped out of the shadows as Lassiter called it distraction. I knew the angel was near. Did I trust him not to get my ass killed? Short answer? Yes. The lessers caught a glimpse of me and started running. I didn't see any automatic weapons so I didn't draw my glocks. Instead, I widen my stance and moved in a blur of speed. I plunged my dagger in the chest cavity of the first lesser. He let out a screech and then pop. Flash of light and the fucker was gone. I turned toward the second but didn't move fast enough before he sliced up my bicep with the butterfly knife he was carrying. I forced myself to kick the lesser, crushing his knee cap and sending him stumbling over. I backed up to give myself space, that's when I saw the angel.* 

  Lassiter:

Good to see that as distracting as Vishous could be for me, he was even more so with Lessers. Whoop-di-fucking-do-dah. 

 Despite their running act, as soon as the two moved forward to engage V, I came up behind the third. Putting the invisible man to shame, I used the little blinding light moment from the Brother’s popped Lesser to insert my knife right through the top of the demon’s spine. The rest of his body went limp, his weapon clattering from lifeless fingers as his meat sack crumpled into a pile. Before I could drop down to provide my own little light show, everything shifted.

 The scent of V’s blood in the air hit me like a truck. I didn’t think as I became visible again, my head whipping around to see the Lesser staggering back from the vampire, catching sight of me. V’s arm leaked red; the only color I saw as I darted forward. I barely felt the kiss of the blade as the Omega’s spawn took a slice at me. It glanced off my shoulder, silver blood spattering the concrete. I snarled, seizing the things head and wrenching it sideways. Its neck broke with a loud SNAP. 

 His body hit the pavement. My knife went for his heart. With another burst of sound and light, the corpse was gone. I looked to V. 

 “I said distract them, not introduce yourself to their weapons,” I managed, my tone mercifully even. “That cut deep?”

  Vishous: *The angel made quick work of the remaining lessers and I have to say, the male was good with his hands. The adrenaline in my blood was so thick I didn’t feel the pain in my bicep...yet. I looked at my arm and holstered my daggers.* I’ll live angel. *A smirk on my puss as I went in my pocket to get out a smoke. I didn’t have time to react to what happened next. Fuck me this was sloppy. Noob move. I should of scanned better. My legs buckled and sent me flying face down kissing the concrete. I heard Lassiter saying something but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. My vision was blurry and getting dark. I tried to get up but my body was failing me.* Lassiter! *I screamed his name.* 

  Lassiter: 

‘I’ll live’.

 Famous last words. 

 The bullet ripped through the vampire like he was butter. For one impossible second my brain struggled to process it. The spray of blood. The whiplash of his body. The echoing crack that finally followed, the sound so much slower than the metal.

 Then I was moving. Vishous hit the pavement and I was over him, my body a shield. Sliding my arms under his I dragged, hauling his leather coated rear out of the line of fire until we were tucked against the building. 

 “V! Vishous!”

 I was snarling his name, but even if I’d screamed it he wasn’t about to pop those diamond eyes and flash me a smile. My fingers pressed against his throat, adrenaline hitting every nerve and frying my concentration until I felt that wonderful, incredible thing.

 Tha-thump.

 A pulse. He was out for the count but he wasn’t dead. But now I had two problems. Getting Vishous back to the med suite, and doing so without also getting my head blown off. Logic dictated I find the Lesser and rip him to pieces, but logic so often took a back seat for this sort of shit that now was no exception.

 I ghosted, leaving the shelter of the building in my invisi state and flying down the street to the nearest car. If you think I cared that it had one window made of duct tape and barely four wheels, you’re dead fucking wrong. It was a stallion, a chariot, Willy Wonka’s magic elevator. It was the escape hatch and I broke into that bitch and started her like it was the Fast and the Furious and Vin Diesel was waiting for me to race. 

 Screaming back down the street, I jerked the car around and threw open the door. It offered some modicum of a shield, but already I could feel the hood of the car taking punishment. Dragging the male into the car, I didn’t wait for the door to shut properly before I stepped on the gas and lurched us forward. The windshield pinged, shards of glass scattering over me as bullets made almost perfect holes. A dodged lamp post, a mounted curb, and the car lurched onto a new street. The rain of gunfire ceased. 

 “Vishous!”

 Glancing over at the male, I cursed and fumbled my phone out of my coat. A near flat battery. The time leered out at me from the screen. Just when I thought I’d lost a problem, I gained a new one. Dawn was barely twenty minutes off. Much as I liked to think this piece of crap stallion would make the manse in time, there was no way in hell. 

 I swung off the main road and changed direction, my brain racing ahead. There were parking garages and storage areas nearby that would provide the privacy and shade I’d need for the male for the day, but if I didn’t get to one fast enough, it wouldn’t matter. He was bleeding, and the amount of blood was upping my anxiety about a billion. 

 “Vishous! I need you to wake the fuck up and answer me!”

  Vishous: *I was floating and Lassiter came to me with those huge white and silver tipped wings of his. I knew they were incredibly soft. I had touched them more than a few times. They felt like fucking clouds, being so strong as to lift the angel gracefully towards me. Everything was white so as shiny as Lassiter usually is he actually stood out from the background. He lifted me up in his arms. For some reason I couldn't move a fucking muscle. I looked into his white eyes and for the first time in a while I felt comfort. The angel smiled at me and before I could ask a question he shook his head and I could hear him yelling for me to wake up. The sound was distant. Then it came closer, and closer until I closed my eyes and opened them again. Lassiter was driving and I tried to answer him in a raspy voice.* Miss me? 

 *~*~*~*~*~* End Part 1 *~*~*~*~*~*