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advantage-zweig · 3 months ago

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I completely understand you on the different top/bottom dom/sub Art things. Like:

sub bottom Art - he's just kind of Pathetic (<3) so it makes sense

power bottom Art - He's bottoming but he's actually the one in control very snakey, manipulative Art

sub top Art - Sure he's topping but the other person is the one in control he's just a nice guy (getting everything he wants) once again makes sense with snakey, manipulative

Dom top Art - That just feels like too much obvious power for him to have? Like I feel like Arts power is never that obvious. Dom top is too much straightforward, taking charge and taking what you want and that man could barely ask his wife for permission to retire be so fr

YESSSS honestly could not have said it better myself 🩷

CW: nsfw, like this is entirely about art's sexual preferences <3

thanks for your input, this is so beautifully thought out! XOXO

i feel like we saw quite a few different sides of art throughout the movie, and because of that it can be hard to tell which indicators of his bedroom role were genuine, and which were him manipulating tashi and patrick into giving him what he wanted.

i think early on, especially at stanford, he would've been a service top with girls, and if he and patrick had ever hooked up, he would've been more of a bratty bottom (because he still had a lot of life in him).

then after thirteen years of tashi being so dominant towards him and not having his best friend there to help maintain his spark, i feel like he just sank into being fully submissive regardless of the circumstances.

so it was like a natural transition from sub switch to sub bottom, which i just think is so fitting for him considering everything he went through in the in-between years.

i know a lot of people think him being so aggressive in the sauna means he could be a switch or even a top (and i guess he could be), but honestly i think it reads more as him resenting the fact that he's not even close to that anymore.

life was just so hard for him sometimes, and it didn't take long for him to figure out that it's easier to deal with training, and losing, and missing patrick, and tashi's disappointment if he just. . . lets go.

so that's what he does, in and out of the bedroom.

when he does get to be on top with tashi, i feel like he tries his best to enjoy it. i think he likes to go slow, laying fully on top of her, staying deep inside and just grinding his hips in little circles instead of thrusting like he's "supposed" to.

he always keeps going just like that until he comes way too quickly or tashi sighs and says, "you either fuck me right or you're going on your back again."

and as appealing as the thought of her riding him is, he doesn't ever want to let her down, so he whines out an apology and lifts his head from her chest so he can at least try to make his wife feel good. he pretty much always just wants to make her feel good.

maybe once or twice, tashi gets fed up with him being so passive and tells him to man up and take what he wants, and he tries, but he usually ends up crying, or he can't quite get hard enough, and tashi realizes he's still just doing what she told him to and she gives up yet again.

he just couldn't be mean to her if he tried. he loves and respects her too much, and as much as he hates to admit it, he could never really get off when he had to focus on being the one in charge, even back in school. he has to let go.

i think tashi for sure has a strap on, but i don't think she brings it out very often because it's always a bit of a hassle. i think she saves it for when art has trouble getting hard for her for a week or two straight.

that's when she decides enough is enough, and she fucks him as hard as she always wants him to fuck her (just like patrick used to fuck her).

and it works without fail every time. partially because her husband is a tragic closet case who still believes blowing his best friend is just "healthy experimentation," but more so because it's the most humiliating, submissive position he could possibly be in.

he's just so pathetic, which tashi loves to remind him of when he's got his face buried in the pillows and his unfairly perfect ass in the air. he's so pathetic when he's shooting off in just under three minutes, whining and sobbing and begging her not to stop until his poor, overstimulated cock is filling up again.

now, with patrick, i think art goes back and forth between power bottom and just pure bottom. i don't think there's a world in which having that much control over someone he once looked up to makes him feel comfortable, let alone aroused.

he's so pathetic, and if he's learned to use that to his advantage when he does something to piss tashi off again, well that's no one's business but his own.

but i do think that after new rochelle, he quickly learns that he can use sex to get whatever he wants from patrick. and in the process, he gets even more of what he wants, which is of course: sex with patrick.

like, if patrick is refusing to get out of bed and go on a run with him like tashi told them to, all art has to do is entice him with a blowjob beforehand and messy shower sex after to get him kicking the blankets onto the floor. works like a charm every time.

and of course, when he's tucked between patrick's legs, rutting helplessly into the mattress as he tries to fit all of him down his throat, he finds that it doesn't feel much like a bribe at all.

patrick is just always so good to him. he's sweeter than tashi is most of the time, especially in the way he speaks to him when they do things like that. and sometimes that makes it easier for art to have a little fun fighting back, but most of the time he just relaxes into it and focuses on being as good as he possibly can. he just loves making his partners feel good, even when he's totally only giving them head because he wants something.

so, yeah, art's a bottom through and through (and since patrick's there to give tashi what she's been missing, nobody's complaining anymore).

oh, and they do not end up going on that run.

so, do y'all agree or am i way off with this one?

again, i'm always open to input and/or requests, so if you liked this, i'd be happy to elaborate more! ✨️💕

and i just wanted to add that i am not saying patrick is a dom top to his core. truthfully, i see him as more of a switch, but i do like him topping more, so that's most of what i'll be writing! it's just better for art's pathetic little soul 🥰

XOXO

#art donaldson #tashi duncan #patrick zweig #challengers 2024 #challengers fanfic #challengers smut #challengers #artrick smut #art donaldson x patrick zweig #artrick #artrick fanfic #artrick blurb #artashi #patashi #artashi fanfic #artashi smut

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izaacs-notdeadyet · 7 months ago

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Zombie Apocalypse au!!

I really need to come up with a better name cause "zombie apocalypse au" just seems bland and "tlou outsiders au" is just too long 😔😔 def drop some ideas if you have any.

Anyway!1!1 dally design drop!!

Gon be real, I did not have fun drawing this and I think it shows in the art but fuck it!! We ball. This is like maybe my second time drawing dally and I can't get him down well for the life of me. Kinda going threw art block I think but we stay on the grind 🗣️🗣️🗣️

While he wasn't fun to draw, he was definitely fun to think up his story in this au. I think I'm gonna be a bit selective with what all I say abt the gang from now on, cause I'm really considering turning this into a fic (would y'all read about this?)

Anyway!1!1 time to yap

Dally didn't grow up in New York

But he grew up in a gang with a lot of survivors from New york

The gang "leader" was pretty tough on Dally, he was the only kid and no one really liked his being there much

He was only there cause his dad had somehow managed to talk the group into letting him join when Dally was younger

On the topic of Dally's dad,

He wasn't a bad guy, but dally and him never got along much

He never hit dally though, only one time

Dally snuck away to go exploring in the city

And ended up pissing off the leader of their group real bad

He made Dally's dad hit him, kinda in a moment like Sarah's dad hitting her in the walking dead video game (take this as loosely similar, cause I've never played nor watched the walking dead)

It was then Dally decided to leave and take off on his own at only 12.

He wasn't going to let anyone hit him like that again or hold that kind of power over him

He wandered around America and maybe even Canada for awhile

I like to think he used to have a horse, one that either died or got stolen, but he loved it a lot while he had it

He found the gang on their trek through Oklahoma.

By "found" I mean found their camp and tried to steal from them, not realizing they were right outside

When it went wrong he ended up holding Two-bit (who had been sick at the time) at knifepoint, trying to get them to give up their shit

Darry ended up talking him down, convincing him to just sit and talk (made harder by Steve and Pony agreeing on something for once in their life, and it being on killing Dally)

Dally ended up staying at their camp for the night, planning to leave in the morning, but Two-bit found him at the campfire later that night

They had a talk, Two-bit didn't blame him or dislike him for what he'd done, he was the first one to forgive and really be okay with Dally's presence.

Come the next day, and Two-bit was up before anyone else regardless of how sick he was, standing up for Dally and saying Darry should let him stay.

It took a bit of convincing, but Dally was allowed to stay, and he just kinda ran with them since

#the outsiders #the outsiders movie #the outsiders novel #the outsiders zombie au #dallas winston #dally winston #darry curtis #darrel curtis #Two-bit Matthews #two bit mathews #steve randle #ponyboy curtis #Izaacs art

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theresattrpgforthat · 10 months ago

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Fantasy Games - And My Struggle With Them.

This might be a surprise, but I struggle with fantasy games, especially high fantasy. I come across them a lot when I’m browsing Itch.io, and after a while, they start to blur together, more so than any other genre. I understand that for many folks, games like D&D were their entry into the hobby, and making a fantasy game is often the first step a game designer makes when they try to develop their own system. But I didn’t get into ttrpgs via a traditional fantasy game, and I think that regardless of the rules that accompany the game, I don’t get very excited about games that have knights and elves and dwarves and wizards.

As you might imagine, this can sometimes make things difficult when folks ask for fantasy-related ttrpg recommendations. Fantasy is a genre that encompasses so many different styles of play and genre, from gritty dungeon crawling to super-powered adventure to sad and tragic epics. Yet, because most of those sub-genres rarely appeal to me, I haven’t looked closely at very many of the games in my Sword & Sorcery & So Much More folder, which means trudging through the items there takes a lot longer when answering fantasy-oriented asks.

That being said, I don’t want to ignore fantasy games completely; I know that so many people find joy and fun in games set in a traditional fantasy world. So I’m going to talk about a few fantasy games that are very different from each-other and have very specific goals in mind, and I encourage people who see this to re-blog with their own favourite fantasy games and tell us what makes them special.

Also - if you have a fantasy game related request, please be kind if my response isn't all that you hoped it would be!

Tacticians of Ahm, by Meatcastle Games.

Tacticians of Ahm is a tactical combat-focused tabletop roleplaying game in the corrupt3d fantasy world of Ahm.

A bit-rotten blight has appeared in the Northern Sea and from it flows the Corrupt1on, fractured light and shattered shapes sowing chaos across the realm. As Tacticians, you alone are prepared to face the darkness spreading across the lands and reunite the scattered peoples of Ahm.

Tacticians of Ahm is for players who like a really satisfying combat, inspired by games like Fire Emblem and Final Fantasy Tactics, with grid maps to help you keep track of positioning and distance. This doesn’t meant that combat is long - it’s still fast-paced, using visual indicators like color to help you assess what kinds of things you can do in play: healing, damage, and special effects. Characters have interesting abilities that they gain as they level up, so this game is also probably good for folks who like watching their characters get more and more competent. Right now Meatcastle is grinding away at the game to make it more playable, and more full of art - so getting in on it now means that you’ll get to watch it grow.

Nexalis, by Cezar Capacle.

We invite you to step aboard your enchanted vessel and set sail on the ethereal ocean known as the Nectar. Nexalis calls you on an awe-inspiring journey across a universe filled with countless uncharted islands, each teeming with unique cultures, mysteries, and magical phenomena.

Nexalis is an otherworldly realm where islands drift amidst an endless cosmic ocean of magical plasma, the Nectar. The Nectar, pulsing with vibrant, ever-shifting colors, mirrors the celestial patterns that guide adventurers on their thrilling journeys. At the heart of this sea lies the Celestial Nexus, an entrancing vortex of astral energy that births islands and renews the world in a constant cycle of creation.

Nexalis is a fantasy game, but it’s an example of setting that feels vibrant and unique from traditional fantasy games - and yet it is also highly customizable. The game comes with oracles and random tables that you’ll use to generate interesting locations and problems to deal with as your drifters move from place to place. Characters are packaged in playbooks, compact tropes that will provide players with everything they need to know on a brochure. Finally, the game uses phases, moving from one kind of storytelling to another dependant on the kind of scene you’re about to play through.

Shadow of the Demon Lord, by Schwalb Entertainment.

The End Is Just the Beginning

Sometimes the world needs heroes. But in the desperation of these last days, the world will take all those it can get: heroes, blackguards, madmen, and whoever else is willing to stand against the coming darkness. Will you fight the demons or will you burn it all down and dance among the ashes? Who will you become when the world dies?

Shadow of the Demon Lord opens a door to an imaginary world held in the grip of a cosmic destroyer. Enter a land steeped in the chaos and madness unleashed by the end times, with whole realms overrun by howling herds of beast-men, warped spirits freed from the Underworld, and unspeakable horrors stirred awaken by the Demon Lord’s imminent arrival.

For fans of the grim, the gory, and the gritty, the setting of Shadow of the Demon Lord is post-apocalyptic, chaotic and messy. The presentation is representative of a traditional RPG: a big book with high-end full-colour art and plenty of lore to accompany the rules. You create your character using pieces of Ancestry to help you determine your attributes, and your Profession to determine your skills. The game is based on the d20, and relies on stat modifiers to try and get you over most rolls, and a milestone-like levelling system that ensures that everyone who plays levels up at the same time.

Shadow of the Demon Lord is very clearly a vehicle for horror, so if your table is one that likes being confronted by all kinds of horrible things in a hopeless quest to save… well something of the world, then you might like this game.

Songbirds 3e, by snow.

Songbirds 3e is a tabletop roleplaying game about undeath, supernatural powers, and the blue dreams of the moon. In the game, you create a strange survivor of the world who was chosen (or cursed) by Death. Spirits aren't able to pass on to the afterlife and grow monstrous with each passing day. You know the songs to send them on. You have the abilities that help you find them. You are the canary in the coal mine.

Songbirds is full of danger. It carries with it a tried and true method of OSR world-building in that the world makes itself known in the pieces of the game that you decide to pick up - the character curses you roll for, the ways damage can hurt you, the gear you carry, and the roll tables that answer so many questions about different steps of the game. Combat is meant to be simple but also deadly, and much of the fun of the game is in discovering what’s around the corner or what’s in the treasure chest in front of you. Songbirds takes inspiration from both fantasy and sci-fi, so if you like weirdness mixed in with your dungeon-crawls, you might like this game.

Trilogy, by Ben Moxon.

Trilogy is a tabletop RPG designed for epic fantasy campaigns. Build your world at the table, create characters to explore it and let the adventure commence.

Trilogy is designed specifically for players who want to discover their world in play rather than having to consult settings guides and books of existing lore. A world that lives and grows around you, shared by everyone at the table.

The media listed that inspired Trilogy include series such as Lord of the Rings, Malazan Book of the Fallen, and the Storm-light Archives; vast and detailed worlds full of complex cultural relations and heavy with conflict. The rules are derived from the PbtA framework, which means that much of the action is going to be character-driven and character-focused. This game is least likely to have puzzles a la dungeon-crawl, but what it does have is character arcs.

Character arcs are guiding lights for players, providing them with loose archetypes that they can use to help advance their characters. Each arc comes with positive and negative qualities that you can turn to when your character is at their best or at their worst. It also has an opening moment (which helps define your character to the audience) and a series of checkpoints in the form of narrative moments that generate character growth. I think the Arcs part of Trilogy is what makes it stand out, looking at character development at a new angle, and giving players plenty of prompts to help them get from point A to point B.

Jack Kills Giants, by Andrew White.

There’s no shortage of vagabonds who take coin for killing, but Giant Slayers… they’re a special breed. The coin is unfathomably good, you’d be more or less set for life should you bring one of those colossal beasts down.However, you’re just as likely to find yourself a quick and nasty death and a pauper’s funeral.

Those who decide the reward is worth the risk form up into small companies of strangers, spreading out the risks and sharing the spoils.Brought from all walks of life, those who survive past their first kill and choose to continue on the path grow into tight-knit bands, comrades in arms fighting for gold and glory.

But you aren’t one of that pantheon of successful slayers just yet. You’re just flat broke.

JACK KILLS GIANTS is a game of giant-slaying in the Fantasy Gig-Economy written and illustrated by Andrew White, with valuable contributions from Nakade & Cosmic Orrery Games. In Jack Kills Giants you won't play hardened adventurous heroes, you'll play everyday people, forced by a need to make cash to survive to chase after giants in exchange for generous bounties.

Jack Kills Giants does away with the broad possibilities of a generic fantasy game and zooms in on one particular element that the designer is interested in - a gig economy. Giant-killing is terrifying and horribly dangerous, but life is so brutal that you decide that it’s still worth doing. The game also focuses on the ways a world that has giants in it works that makes it special - for instance, some folks make a living carving up the bodies of slain giants and distributing the fat, bones, and other pieces into products that the world can use. For lovers of thoughtful world-building and purposeful adventuring, maybe check out Jack Kills Giants.

Also...

If you found these interesting, you might also like my Non-Western Fantasy recommendation post, as well as my general fantasy tag.

#game recommendations #indie ttrpgs #tabletop games #dnd #fantasy #wow mint there's so many non-ask related requests lately #sometimes it's nice choosing my own topic #ironic that I chose this one though I guess

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lazy-neet · 1 month ago

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Viktor x V

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64572781

Title: Just us

This can only lead to one of two outcomes, but it's too late for regrets, not that she would have any regardless. He’s positioned facing her, and she softly glides her bare leg against his denim-covered leg, their eyes fixed on each other, but it's difficult to discern the look in his eyes behind the glasses. She gives him a playful smile, aware that her touch has an impact on him. She notices him wincing as a minor frown appears on his face; he moves slightly in his chair, repositioning his stiffening erection.

He stares at her intensely, and it only makes her own feelings intensify, as she senses moisture building between her thighs. She intentionally chose to wear a short skirt today along with a fitted top that reveals her cleavage. She is aware of her actions and their impact on him; it thrills her to see how he responds to her.

They disregard the lingering looks from patrons at adjacent tables, lost in their own world, just the two of them in this diner. She continuously provokes him, seeking a reaction; she desires Vik to lose his composure. She desires his typical calm and patient nature to vanish, yearning for him to be wild for her. Desires him to take his reward as he takes her and thrusts into her forcefully and intensely.

She gets embarrassed by the idea, yearning for his rough hands on her body, his broad fingers expanding her pussy. His lips are enticing, and she longs for them against hers; she's been craving him desperately for quite a while. She is entitled to act spoiled; he should be punished for keeping her away from him.

She’s tired of them teasing this boundary of friendship and love, although for now it's closer to lust; love can wait another day, another conversation. There's no hurry; she can wait a bit longer while she teases him. Understanding that she will ultimately obtain what she requires.

He covers the cost of their meal, and as she stands from her seat, he swiftly takes her arm while they leave the diner. Fortunately, the diner is close to his home. He struggles to unlock the door, and they swiftly enter. She moves to his couch, plopping down on the cushion, causing her skirt to ride up a bit. He sits down, there’s space between them, but it won’t be for long.

“You’re playing a risky game, V. It’s not nice to tease an old man like me. You have no idea what you’re getting into." His fists tighten and loosen, the evident bulge still noticeable, and she moistens her lips in pleasure.

"I know what I’m doing, Vik. We both need this, so what’s the problem?" She rises and finds herself kneeling in front of him; she places soft kisses along his inner thighs while gazing up at him. He gazes at her with a smile illuminating his face, and she is captivated by his beauty.

The scar on his chin and over his nose makes her desire to embrace them with soft, tender kisses. Beauty marks and freckles dot his face and chest, resembling constellations on skin that guide her back home to him. She longs to plant kisses all over him, jealous of the stars that get to dwell on him daily.

He is magnificent, a living work of art, a man powerful enough to be tender, even though he could easily overpower her if he wanted to. Gentle tingles course through her body at the idea of his power. Although he hasn't engaged in professional fights for quite some time, his physique remains phenomenal; he's utterly flawless, and she desires him exclusively for herself.

Her hands explore his abdomen, sensing the firmness of his muscle beneath her touch, a hint of softness revealing his age. She adores it. Desiring to grind her sopping cunt against his abs, wanting his hands clutching her hips tightly enough to create marks. Or perhaps she’ll desperately grind and press against his thigh or his boot. He'll mock her for being so desperate and needy, as his glasses gradually descend the bridge of his nose, his lovely blue eyes glimmering through.

Pulling herself from the daydream she senses the wetness between her thighs enveloping her as she rises, removing her short pleated skirt and top. He gasps sharply upon seeing her bare cunt. A low growl-like rumble can be heard, and it only thrills her. He pulls her onto his lap as they engage in a passionate kiss, with tongues entwined, and she gently nibbles his lower lip. He moans in pleasure and she enjoys the noise, craving to hear more. She rubs against his clothed cock, longing to feel it on her exposed cunt.

He raises her up a bit while swiftly lowering his pants enough; she glances down in pleasure at his cock, it's ideal. Not very long, but damn is it thick and heavy. She wants to feel his heavy cock on her tongue, longs to have it within her wet pussy. She descends onto him, her moisture now enveloping his shaft, and he moans.

"Fuck, keep doing that darling and I’ll cum." He laughs lightly while he talks, although it's a bit tense. She glides her fingers through his hair while he positions himself, aligning with her entrance. She pushes herself down, weeping from the fullness as she takes him in completely. She attempts to hold off and adjust to him before acting, but he denies her that enjoyment.

He holds her hips, using her as his personal fleshlight, and she enjoys it. Moans and cries escape her from overwhelming pleasure, he kisses and nibbles at her breasts, and she's starting to sense a pressure rising. She removes his glasses, casting them aside as their eyes meet. They exchange another kiss, her fingers continuing to glide through his hair and down to his chest.

She isn’t ready for this to finish, his inked arm loosens its hold on her hip and his hand encircles her neck. The pressure is sufficient to cause her to moan as she bites her lip and smiles, her hands clutching his arm. "Harder, Daddy. Please fuck me harder, choke me harder, I want you to ruin me." She begs exquisitely while she groans as the pressure escalates.

"Is it alright if I cum inside, darling?" He has difficulty speaking as he approaches his peak, while she echoes a series of yes’s as she climax on his cock. He keeps thrusting into her, and a growl escapes him as he climaxes inside her.

The sound of their labored breaths breaks the quiet of his house as he kisses her again. This time, it's tender and kind, causing her heart to fill with joy. "Let's get you to the shower." He attempts to raise her, but she prevents him. "Still want to feel you inside me." She expresses it in such a tiny and lovely way. He smiles to himself while raising them, still linked, her arms around his neck as she nuzzles into him, giving gentle kisses.

He places her on the bathroom counter, withdrawing from her as his cum leaks out; he catches some and pushes it back inside her. She can merely groan in reply, still tender and the aching begins to set in. He turns on the water and she steps into the shower with him. She kneels down, taking his soft member into her mouth, savoring her own flavor on him. She moans around his cock while he rests one arm on the wall, expressing his pleasure with groans.

She playfully teases his tip and takes him in as deep as possible, her gagging is audible and he appears to be in bliss. She withdraws, gazing at him as she keeps rinsing off. Stepping out of the shower, they towel off, and he lifts her onto his bed, diving eagerly between her thighs and savoring her. His fingers slide inside her while he licks her clit; she's overly sensitive, and it's overwhelming for her.

She shifts upward, signaling him to climb onto his back while she leans over his face; he pulls her down to his lips, eagerly consuming her essence. She gazes down at him, and he gives her a wink, that cheeky bastard. Her hands fists in his hair, it’s overwhelming and she attempts to pull back but it’s futile given how he holds her. She senses herself nearing climax and she pushes against his mouth, stars appear behind her eyes as she allows herself to finish onto his face. She sits on her throne as blue eyes twinkle from below.

Got inspiration to write this after listening to Just us by Jack Harlow. Hope y’all enjoy it!

#cp2077 #cp77 #fanfic #v cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #oneshot #v cp2077 #v cp77 #cyberpunk v #smut #fluff and smut #viktor vektor x v #viktor vektor #viktor x v #fem v cyberpunk

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nazma1057 · 1 month ago

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How a Corporate Art Session Transformed Our Office Culture?

Companies are constantly looking for innovative ways to boost employee morale, improve collaboration, and enhance overall productivity. One strategy that has proven to be highly effective is incorporating art into the workplace.

In this blog, we’ll share how a corporate art session transformed our office culture, fostering creativity, reducing stress, and bringing the team closer together. By the end of this post, you’ll see how easy it is to incorporate art into your workplace to achieve similar results.

Why Art Matters in Shaping Office Culture?

Art in the workplace isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s a powerful tool that shapes the emotional landscape of the office. Research has shown that art can significantly impact employee well-being, helping to reduce stress and stimulate creativity. It provides a visual language that speaks to both individuals and teams, offering an outlet for expression that words often cannot.

Incorporating art into the workplace environment has been linked to better employee engagement and improved mental health. Studies by experts like IPaintMyMind and Albright Special reveal that when employees are surrounded by inspiring artwork, it fosters a sense of belonging and encourages creativity, leading to higher engagement levels.

The Power of Art in Employee Engagement

Employee engagement goes beyond just being present at work—it’s about fostering an environment where employees feel valued, supported, and motivated. A corporate art session offers a unique opportunity to engage employees on a deeper level. It encourages self-expression and provides a break from the routine, which can help alleviate work-related stress and burnout.

According to Vorecol HRMS, engaging in creative activities boosts team morale, fosters open communication, and promotes a sense of accomplishment. Our Corporate Art Workshop served as a refreshing change, allowing employees to connect emotionally, express their thoughts, and collaborate in a fun, non-pressured environment.

How Our Corporate Art Session Was Structured?

Planning the art session was the first step towards bringing creativity into the workplace. We partnered with professional facilitators who guided the team through a collaborative art project—each employee contributed their personal touch to a large mural. This activity not only sparked creativity but also helped break down the traditional barriers that often exist between departments.

The session was designed to be inclusive and voluntary. It allowed everyone, regardless of their artistic background, to participate in a way that felt comfortable. This approach ensured that no one felt left out, and the end result was a piece of art that everyone in the company could be proud of. The facilitators encouraged open dialogue and creative expression, creating a relaxed atmosphere where ideas flowed freely.

The Immediate Impact: From Stress Relief to Team Bonding

The immediate reaction from the team was overwhelmingly positive. Employees who might not have interacted before found common ground through their artistic contributions. The session led to unexpected conversations, laughter, and bonding, as team members collaborated on how to best represent the company’s values through their artwork.

What we witnessed was a shift in the office dynamics. The art session helped reduce workplace stress by providing a much-needed break from the daily grind. Employees reported feeling more energized, relaxed, and more open to communication with colleagues.

Long-Term Benefits: Shaping Our Office Culture for the Better

The benefits of the corporate art session didn’t end when the painting was complete. In the weeks that followed, we saw lasting changes in the office culture. Communication improved, with team members more willing to share ideas and feedback openly. The mural became a visual representation of our collective effort and a reminder of our ability to collaborate creatively.

Moreover, the session sparked more frequent informal team activities and creative initiatives, leading to improved problem-solving and innovation in our daily work. We saw a rise in employee satisfaction and collaborative efforts, ultimately contributing to higher productivity across the board.

Why Every Company Should Consider Corporate Art Sessions?

If you’re looking to create a work environment that encourages creativity, promotes well-being, and strengthens team bonds, a corporate art session could be the solution. Incorporating art into your workplace doesn’t have to be an expensive or time-consuming investment. A simple, well-planned session can have a profound impact on your office culture.

Just like Art+Artisans and Albright Special suggest, introducing art into the workplace is not just about beautifying the environment—it’s about creating a human-centered culture where employees feel valued. Art brings diverse perspectives together, encouraging empathy and creating an emotional connection among team members.

By introducing creative activities like this, you send a message to your employees that you care about their well-being and value their contributions. This can go a long way in improving employee retention and overall workplace satisfaction.

5 Tips to Organize a Successful Corporate Art Session

Choose the Right Art Medium: Select a form of art that aligns with your company’s culture—whether it's painting, sculpture, or digital art.

Create an Inclusive Environment: Make the session open to all employees, regardless of their artistic experience. The goal is expression, not perfection.

Work with Professional Facilitators: Hire experts to guide the session, ensuring it’s both fun and impactful.

Keep it Low Pressure: The focus should be on creativity and enjoyment, not competition. Encourage everyone to contribute at their own pace.

Follow Up: After the session, gather feedback and discuss the experience to reinforce the positive changes in team dynamics.

Conclusion

A corporate art session can be a powerful tool to transform office culture, foster creativity, and improve employee engagement. By creating an environment that values self-expression, you help your team build stronger connections and work more effectively together.

Art has the power to change not only the way employees feel but also the way they work. If you’re looking to enhance your workplace culture and boost productivity, it’s time to consider incorporating art into your employee engagement strategy.

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serenasmith5bolg · 2 months ago

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Boudoir photography for couples is a beautiful way to celebrate love and intimacy

In recent years, boudoir photography has emerged as an intimate and powerful medium that celebrates love, sensuality, and connection. While traditionally associated with women, boudoir photography for couples is rapidly gaining popularity, providing a unique opportunity for partners to express their love and intimacy in a stunning and artistic way. In this blog, we will explore the beauty of couples boudoir photography, highlighting how it can serve as a meaningful reminder of the bond you share.

What is Couples Boudoir Photography?

Boudoir photography couples often combine sensuality with romance, allowing couples to capture intimate moments in a beautiful setting. This genre of photography invites couples to embrace their physical connection, creating a space where vulnerability and intimacy can flourish. Regardless of your relationship stage—whether you're newly in love, celebrating a milestone, or simply wanting to reconnect—couples boudoir photography can provide a fresh perspective on your relationship.

The Importance of Celebrating Love and Intimacy

In our fast-paced lives, it's easy to overlook the importance of celebrating love and intimacy with our partners. The daily grind can leave little room for romance, making it crucial to find ways to reconnect. Boudoir photography for couples acts as a reminder of your bond, encouraging you to take a moment to appreciate each other in a unique way.

The act of participating in a boudoir shoot together allows couples to express their feelings for one another in a creative and enjoyable manner. You might find that you reveal layers of vulnerability that you didn't know existed. The experience can strengthen your relationship, deepen your connection, and foster trust between you and your partner.

Embracing the Art of Boudoir Photography

When you think of boudoir photography, you might imagine elegant poses, luxurious settings, and stunning outfits. Couples boudoir photography embraces this aesthetic while adding a unique twist: the dynamic and chemistry between partners. Whether you're in your most elegant attire or simply comfortable in your skin, the key is to create an atmosphere where both partners feel relaxed and confident.

Boudoir photography for couples is about celebrating each other's bodies and personalities. This form of art allows the photographer to capture the love, laughter, and passion that permeate your relationship. It can be a delightful experience filled with giggles, shared nervousness, and moments of deep connection. Embracing vulnerability together can ultimately result in more breathtaking images that truly reflect who you are as a couple.

Boudoir Photography for Men

While boudoir photography has long been perceived as a female-centric genre, there's an emerging appreciation for boudoir photography men. More men are stepping in front of the camera, and the result can be incredibly powerful. When done as a couple, it allows men to embrace their masculinity while showing their softer side, all while reinforcing the trust and intimacy between partners.

Involving men in the boudoir experience opens up new avenues for expression, showcasing the multifaceted nature of love and desire. The final results, featuring both partners, can create a beautiful story that encapsulates your unique relationship.

Conclusion

Whether you're capturing a milestone moment, celebrating your journey together, or simply embracing the beauty of your relationship, couples boudoir photography is an exceptional way to celebrate love and intimacy. It offers partners a chance to express their feelings in a creative, fun, and memorable way.

If you're ready to take the plunge into the world of boudoir photography, consider scheduling a session with a photographer who specializes in this genre. They can guide you through the process, ensuring your experience is enjoyable and that the final images reflect the unique love you share. Remember, every photograph tells a story—let yours be a beautiful testament to the love and intimacy you celebrate together.

#beautiful boudoir photography #best boudoir photography #boudoir photography london #boudoir photography london uk

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treeserviceskalamazoo · 5 months ago

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Expert Tree Service in Kalamazoo, MI: Kalamazoo Tree Removal

Kalamazoo, MI is a city with many beautiful views with a lot of green areas. The trees in this area give aesthetic value to the properties and personality but at the same time, they need care and attention to grow. That is where Kalamazoo Tree Removal comes in. Our company is one of the most experienced tree care companies in Kalamazoo, MI with diverse tree care services that enable us to maintain the health, safety, and appearance of trees in different premises. From tree removal, pruning, stump grinding, to emergency services, our highly qualified personnel are ready to help.

The Importance of Professional Tree Service in Kalamazoo, MI

People and animals get to benefit from trees through aspects such as offering shade, quality air and aesthetics to their surrounding environments. But they also need to be monitored frequently and managed in order to remain healthy and safe, for instance. This means that if you do not pay attention to your trees they may grow out of control, develop diseases or even become a danger to your home or property.

Here are a few key reasons why professional tree service is essential:

1. Promote Tree Health

Pruning and trimming should be carried out on trees in order to help sustain the trees properly. These services involve the pruning of the tree to get rid of any branch that may be dead or infected by a disease, so that the tree can focus on growing healthy branches.

2. Increase Property Safety

Trees with branches that became too large and have lost their stability can become a threat in times of storm or wind. Branches and trees can easily collapse on houses, cars and electric power lines leading to a lot of damage. These problems can be avoided by professional tree services that prune the offending branches or remove the dangerous trees.

3. Enhance Curb Appeal

Trees that are well taken care of are a great plus for your property in as much as the aesthetic value is concerned. Tree trimming and pruning makes your trees have a good appearance, well shaped and healthy thus enhancing the beauty of your compound.

Our Range of Tree Services in Kalamazoo, MI

Our services at Kalamazoo Tree Removal are mainly aimed at providing our clients with the best tree care services. Regardless of whether you require a simple trim or there is an urgent problem with a tree, our personnel are capable of solving any issue. Here’s a look at the services we provide:

1. Tree Removal

In some cases, trees get infected by diseases or become hazardous or simply dead, and the best thing to do is to remove them. We have experienced workers who have mastered the art of tree removal especially when it comes to close to buildings or in congested areas. In the case of removal, we always take our time to make sure that there is minimal interference to your compound and the surrounding environment.

2. Tree Trimming and Pruning

It is an important characteristic of tree management to trim and prune your trees consistently. Pruning services assist in creating tree structures, removing undesirable branches and encouraging growth. Whether your trees require pruning for the season or structural work, we will make sure that your trees stay in good health and good looks.

3. Stump Grinding and Removal

When a tree is felled, the stump which is left behind might be unpleasant to the eyes and even dangerous. It also becomes a home to pests and may cause new growth of trees. There are no half jobs with our stump grinding and removal services, thus, once we are done, your yard is free from the stump and ready for a new use or development.

Why Choose Kalamazoo Tree Removal?

When it comes to tree service Kalamazoo, MI, Kalamazoo Tree Removal stands out for several reasons. Here’s why you can trust us to take care of your tree care needs:

1. Arborist – Fully Qualified and Insured

Our team is made up of professional arborists who have undergone various tree management practices. We know how trees grow and develop and we know how to manage them in ways that will improve their health, safety and appearance. We always ensure that we bring the kind of experience that is needed to produce quality work whether it is tree removal or pruning.

2. Safety-Focused Approach

Tree maintenance is a risky affair especially when dealing with big trees or trees that are close to power lines or buildings. For the record, safety is the number one of our priorities at Kalamazoo Tree Removal.

3. Specialist Tree Management Services

Every tree is unique, and we do not think that tree care should be the same for all trees. We will evaluate your trees and provide you with a care plan that best fits the needs of your trees. Regardless of whether it is trimming, pruning or removal, we will make sure that your trees receive the attention they deserve.

Contact Kalamazoo Tree Removal Today

In case you are in need of the services of a tree service provider in Kalamazoo, MI, then consider Kalamazoo Tree Removal. Our team of certified arborists is standing by to meet all of your tree care needs including the health of your trees, aesthetics, and general safety.

#tree service #Kalamazoo #tree removal #tree trimming #arborist services

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augustatreeservice · 6 months ago

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Professional Stump Grinding in Augusta by Augusta Tree Service

Tree stumps are not only an eyesore in your yard; they are dangerous and ugly and ruin the natural beauty of your landscape. Whether you have recently had trees taken down or you have numerous stumps around your compound, it is about time you called a stump grinding service. In Augusta Tree Service we are experts in stump grinding in Augusta and make sure that your compound is left clean and safe and ready for other landscaping.

Why Stump Grinding is Important?

When a tree is felled, the stump that remains is a nuisance in several ways to the homeowner. Many people are unaware of the long-term consequences of leaving stumps in their yard, so let’s explore some of the key reasons why you should invest in stump grinding:

1. Prevents Safety Hazards

Now, can we perceive tree stumps as a threatening object, one of the most evident threats which lies in its proximity is an accident. Children playing around the compound, pets roaming the compound, or even adults working on the compound such as mowing the compound are at high risk of tripping on a stump.

2. Stops Pest Infestations

Stumps also provide home to insects such as termites, ants as well as beetles. After these insects have infested a decaying stump, they may later move to other parts of your compound and even your house.

3. Improves Aesthetic Appeal

Stumps are ugly structures and they reduce the beauty of your landscape in the event you have one. Excision of these stumps not only beautifies your yard but also creates new areas for planting or growth of plants, flowers or grass.

4. Prevents New Growth

It is common knowledge that many tree species are extremely robust, it means even if the tree has been cut down, the stump is capable of sprouting. This regrowth can be very irksome as it grows back so fast that one has to be trimming it all the time.

Our Stump Grinding Process

Augusta Tree Service stump grinding services comprise professional equipment and strategies to ensure extensive and fast services. The team of professionals that work for us understand that there is a proper way to go about it in order to avoid any mishaps and to eliminate all of the stumps.

1. Assessment and Planning

Before proceeding with the stump grinding, our professionals will look at the stump and its environment. This will help to determine such things as nearby structures, utilities as well as the existing landscape. We will also look at the size and state of the stump and then decide on which method to use.

2. Using Specialized Equipment

We use high powered stump grinders which will chew through the most resistant stumps on the market. These machines cut the stump down to several inches below the ground in order to remove it fully. The grinder also severs the root system, so there is no possibility for its further growth.

3. Clean Up and Restoration

After that we rebate the stump, then we clear the working area, making sure we leave no residues such as wood chips. If needed, the remaining hole can be filled with the soil or mulch, to leave your yard perfectly even for replanting or any other work.

Why Choose Augusta Tree Service for Stump Grinding?

If you’re in need of stump grinding in Augusta, GA you want a company that will deliver quality work and service. Here’s why Augusta Tree Service is your best choice for all your stump removal needs:

1. Experienced and Skilled Team

Our tree care experts have a lot of experience in stump grinding and removal. We know that stumps are problematic and are ready to address any kind of work, no matter how complicated it is.

2. State-of-the-Art Equipment

When it comes to stump grinding equipment, we only use the best equipment that guarantees clean and effective stump removal. Our machines are able to handle all types of stumps regardless of their size and we pride ourselves in being able to take on the task no matter the size of the stump.

3. Easy for everyone and with reasonable and clear prices.

Augusta Tree Service has a policy of providing our customers with affordable, reasonable prices for our tree services. Our estimates are very precise and are given before the commencement of any project, so that there are no hidden costs. The stump grinding services offered by us are quite cheap, and we try our best to get the best deal for your money.

4. Fast and Efficient Service

We know that you want your yard back as soon as possible. Our team is well coordinated to ensure that stump lifting is done effectively and with least interferences on your compound. Our goal is to finish the job as soon as possible but at the same time produce quality work.

Beyond Stump Grinding: Comprehensive Tree Services

Besides the professional stump grinding, Augusta Tree Service provides all kinds of tree services in order to maintain your yard’s appearance. Regardless of whether it is tree pruning, tree cutting, storm damage, or any other tree work, our professionals are here for you.

Tree Removal: The proper and secure elimination of dangerous or undesirable trees.

Tree Trimming and Pruning: Pruning to encourage growth, health and aesthetics of the trees in your compound.

Emergency Tree Services: Emergency tree care for storm damage or any other tree emergency.

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isuzudealersaus · 10 months ago

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Why The Isuzu Dmax For Sale Is Perfect For Off-Roading?

Are you looking for a vehicle that can handle everything from the daily grind to weekend adventures in the wild? Well, let me tell you about the Isuzu Dmax—a rugged machine that’s not just built to last but designed to conquer the toughest terrains. If you’ve been searching for the ultimate off-road companion, the Isuzu Dmax for sale in Caroline Springs is your answer. Buckle up as we dive into why this beast is perfect for your off-roading escapades!

A Beast Ready for Adventure

Unmatched Durability and Reliability

When it comes to off-roading, durability is non-negotiable. The Isuzu Dmax for sale boasts an impressive build crafted to withstand harsh conditions. Whether you’re traversing rocky trails or muddy paths, the Dmax’s robust chassis and reinforced underbody provide exceptional protection against impacts. This vehicle’s reputation for reliability means you can trust it to get you through your wildest adventures without a hitch.

Powerful Performance

Off-roading demands power and the Isuzu Dmax for sale delivers in spades. Under the hood, you’ll find a turbocharged diesel engine that offers a potent combination of power and efficiency. With its high torque output, the Dmax ensures you have the muscle to tackle steep inclines and rough terrains with ease. The vehicle’s advanced 4x4 system allows for a seamless transition between on- and off-road driving, ensuring you’re always in control, regardless of the landscape.

Comfort Meets Capability

Spacious and Comfortable Interior

Just because you’re off-roading doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice comfort. The Isuzu Dmax for sale in Caroline Springs features a spacious cabin designed with both driver and passenger comfort in mind. With ample legroom, supportive seats, and state-of-the-art infotainment options, you can enjoy a smooth ride while staying connected to your favourite music or navigation tools. Long journeys into the wild have never been more comfortable.

Advanced Safety Features

Safety is a top priority, especially when exploring unknown terrains. The Isuzu Dmax for sale has advanced safety features like hill start assist, descent control, and a comprehensive suite of airbags. These features provide peace of mind, knowing that you and your passengers are well-protected, even in the most challenging driving conditions.

Designed for the Wild

Superior Ground Clearance and Suspension

Off-roading often means navigating uneven and unpredictable surfaces. The Isuzu Dmax for sale in Caroline Springs excels with its superior ground clearance and advanced suspension system.The high ground clearance allows you to clear obstacles easily, while the robust suspension absorbs shocks and bumps, providing a smoother ride over rough terrain. You can confidently take on any trail, knowing your vehicle is designed to handle it.

Customizable for Every Adventure

One of the best aspects of the Isuzu Dmax for sale in Caroline Springs is its versatility. Whether you need additional storage for camping gear or specialised equipment for extreme sports, the Dmax can be customised to meet your needs. With a wide range of accessories and modifications, you can tailor your vehicle to any adventure, making it the perfect off-road companion.

Conclusion: Your Ultimate Off-Road Partner

In the world of off-roading, the Isuzu Dmax for sale in Caroline Springs stands out as a top contender. Its combination of durability, power, comfort, and safety makes it an ideal choice for those who seek adventure beyond the beaten path. Whether you’re a seasoned off-road enthusiast or just starting your journey into the wild, the Isuzu Dmax is ready to take you there.So, what are you waiting for? Head over to Caroline Springs and check out the Isuzu Dmax for sale. It’s time to embrace the thrill of off-roading with a vehicle as adventurous as you are!

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illneverrecover · 5 years ago

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going deeper (m) | myg

➛pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader ➛genre: demon!AU, devil!AU, smut. ➛word count: 2342 ➛rating: M because we goin FULL SMUT YALL. ➛warnings: I mean for smut it’s pretty soft, actually. fingering, vaginal intercourse (unprotected), heavy petting, biting, marking, slight mentions of a certain Jeon Jungkook, some possessiveness, mentions of wings used during sex (not the way you’re thinking, though). ➛summary: You always miss Yoongi when he’s gone, and he’s always gone too long, every time he goes away. ➛notes: This was my piece written for the @ksmutclub ‘s secret admirer project, in which I was given the lovely @sunkoos to seduce and serenade. That mostly meant I sent her vague asks on anon in attempts to flirt and get to know her a bit better while she kindly responded acting like I wasn’t an entire embarrassment. Bless her. I hope you had fun with me this past month or so, Nas, and I hope you enjoy this fic! I tried to make it soft & smutty, just what the doctor ordered. Happy Valentine’s Day, bb! ➛song: Black Swan - BTS (obviously, come on).

His touch is so soft you almost don’t feel it.

A ghost, a breath pressed against your pulse point, your jaw. Pillowy lips trailing an invisible path, tongue sweeping out to taste the subtle sweetness of your skin.

“Yoongi?”

Vibrations rumble against your throat as he hums his affirmation, focused on his task. He is feather light, a gentle breeze - and yet your skin heats rapidly, fire brimming just below the surface.

Dragging your hands from under the covers, you lace them around his neck, letting your fingers trace up and down his spine, opening your eyes to drink him in. It’s late, unfathomably dark, and yet there was just enough light to make out every sharp outline of his features. He’s shirtless, which was a welcome surprise, his exposed skin delicious under your touch.

“Did you miss me?” he murmurs, voice raspy as if he had been talking for hours.

Sighing, you let your hands smooth to his front, tracing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I guess…”

He nips at your collarbone in retaliation, your answering squeal the exact response he was looking for. Pulling away to peer down at you, you can’t help but reach out to touch his face, his lips.

“I always miss you. You’re always gone for so long.”

His stare is intense, impossibly deep, and for a moment the worry of saying too much crosses your mind. It was his job, you chastise yourself, searching his gaze. The job he loves.

Something flashes in those dark eyes, something you almost place - pain? - before it’s gone, a smirk pulling the sides of his mouth. “I know, love. But I’m here now.”

Nothing but a gasp has time to pass through your lips before he’s pressed against them, nipping and licking until he gains the entrance he seeks. He kisses you hard, deep, tongue swirling like it won’t be satisfied until it knows every inch of your mouth. Hips rolling, you reach to pull him down, closer, always closer - until he’s lain atop of you, knees wedged between your own.

Trailing from your pout, he sucks at your throat, biting the spot he knows makes you weak until it blooms in violet. “The kid still taking good care of you?” he rasps, lips forming the words against tender skin.

The kid. It takes your brain a moment to work through the thickened lust and comprehend the words, the puzzle piece finally clicking in place. Ah, he means his colleague, Jungkook. The one he assigned to watch over you in his absence, to guard and protect, to make sure you wanted for nothing.

You were fond of Jungkook, that was certain. His big brown eyes were wide and always dancing with mischief, and between that and his charming smile, he was hard to resist. Friendship occurred naturally, and you found yourself seeking him out more and more as time went on. Tasks you previously enjoyed alone, you now did with Jungkook at your side - his humor and wit the perfect addition to the metonity of the daily grind. The truth was that in Yoongi’s absence, Jungkook was a welcomed familiar face, and you felt yourself growing close to him in a way you hadn’t expected.

Smiling, your fingers find the soft dark strands at his nape. “Yes, he is still taking good care of me, just like you asked.”

“Good.”

“Sometimes I wish he’d take better care of me, if you know what I mean, but I guess it’ll do-”

A sharp sting at your neck had you yelping once more, a laugh already at the tip of your tongue. Instead of rage or jealousy, mirth glows in Yoongi’s lust blown gaze. “If that’s what you want, I’m sure it could be arranged. The kid certainly wouldn’t complain.”

Eyes widening, you glare at the man above you, mouth agape. You’re stuttering through a response when he interrupts, pulling away from your throat to peer down at you. “But we both know that’s not what you really want, is it?”

The smile on his face is maddening, wide and genuine, all gums and hidden secrets. Fire lights low in your belly, and you have the sudden urge to prove yourself to the powerful man above you.

It only takes a well placed leg around his hips and a strong tug of your wrist to change your positions, legs now straddling his lap as you earn the higher ground. A small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you have only achieved this because he allowed you to, but you shove it away.

“Oh yeah? And what is it that I really want?”

A warm palm slides up your legs to the back of your thighs, toying dangerously at the apex, just under the hem of your large sleep shirt. Breath catching, you close your eyes to the touch, drunk on lithe fingers and a tell tale hardness pressed to the inside of your thigh.

He watches you then; the way you slow blink until your eyes roll back, the purse of your pout as you sigh out a whisper of his name, brow creasing slightly when he raises his hips to press against your tender heat. Every single inch of you was art, beautiful poetry, and it was easy for Yoongi to get lost in his thoughts as he let you settle over him like a new skin.

It’s as he ghosts one long digit over the wetness clinging to your core that he speaks again. “You want me to touch you, right here,” his thumb swipes against your clit, punctuating his words as you mewl. “You want me to touch you here with my hands and my mouth until you come, until you’re ready to take my cock.”

Whining, you drop your head to his shoulder, allowing your focus to fall to the smooth glide of your pelvis against his own. You’re too worked up to answer, instead dragging your lips in a mirror image of the bruises he had left on your throat, hoping he would heal slow enough to let the love bites take root.

“Hmm, is that what you want, love? Want me to ruin you, fuck you so good you can’t even think about another man, can’t imagine them touching you?”

It was with his final word that he spun you again, moving so quickly you barely had time to register the switch until you were pressed faced down in the mattress, hips pulled to rest with your ass in the air.

He leans over you, the hardness pressed against your ass now free of any fabric - when did he take those off? - naked and warm and demanding attention. His body covers yours, lips ghosting at the shell of your ear. “I’ll give you what you want. I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to, who you will rule beside.”

Biting your lip to suppress your moan, you rock back against him, seeking the friction your body so desperately required, fully intoxicated on your want, your need for him. It was like you had been made perfectly for him, a simple word or hint of a gesture enough to have you dripping and ready for more.

Always so perfect for him.

Ripping away your panties, his fingers glide over your silk core, dipping in just enough to hear you gasp. You didn’t want to play games, didn’t want to drag this out - just wanted him, all of him inside of you.

“Yoongi, please, I’m ready-” a swipe against your engorged bundle of nerves causes you to keen, head lolling forward. “I need you inside me, please, please-”

With a groan, he pulls his hips back, sliding inside of you with the ease of being welcomed home. His fingers remained at your apex, swirling and pinching in time with his slow thrusts, the suddenness of being so full causing your knees to shake.

His remaining free hand travels up and down your spine, pausing for brief moments to hold you in place for his assault against your body, before returning up to your throat to wrap around with a gentle squeeze. He was everywhere, lips and teeth and hands, surrounding and suffocating you with the sweetest poison, the greatest addiction. You couldn’t get enough, being filled with him and yet wanting more, always wanting more.

Yoongi’s moans were softer, lower, but the sound still caused goosebumps to raise on your arms, his pleasured grunts and praise enough to send you over the edge without a single touch from him. Part of you wonders if that’s just some of his appeal, a piece of his power over you, but you know regardless of his status, you would have fallen for Yoongi long ago.

Picking up the pace, he slams his pelvis into you repeatedly, furiously pistoning in and out of you while never losing rhythm. A skilled and attentive lover, always making sure you were a breath away from crumbling for him, curses and his name always ready on the tip of your tongue.

“Tell me, love. What are you thinking about, hmm?”

His voice is black velvet, and you clench at the words, turning your head so you could pant out a response. He never slows, fingers still rubbing mewls out of you, cock lodged deep within your aching cunt.

“I’m thinking about you, Yoongi. How ah- amazing you are. How much I love you.”

As if that was the phrase he was waiting to hear, he hisses, a mumble of your name echoing in the room. Through closed eyes, you feel the room darkening, a sudden shadow casting over your form, and a grin pulls at your lips.

His wings.

You always loved when he showed them, let them unfurl and expand until there was no mistaking what he was, who he was. They were bigger than you had expected, feathers a deep inky black that reflected blue and purple in the right light, like a beautiful oil spill. He tended to keep them hidden, his power abundant enough that it could be done without more than a mere thought, but when he let them show, when he let down the invisible wall - it meant he was comfortable. He was at ease. He felt he could be himself, with you.

The thought made your heart swell.

Craning your neck, he was a vision behind you - chest naked and glistening, twilight strands of his hair in disarray and matted against his forehead, lips kiss bitten and swollen. His eyes however weren’t closed, instead sharp gaze was focused on your face, your body, as his wings open and expand to their full glory. He was every embodiment of otherworldly, truly an angel, your angel, your fallen prince.

His hips falter when his eyes land on yours, when he sees how intently you stare at him. Adoration floods his veins, his desire to give you the world to rule as you see fit only second to the overwhelming need to protect you, love you.

“I love you too, baby.” he husks, tongue darting out to lick his lips. His fingers that had been pressed to your fevered heat seemed to double in speed, your eyes snapping closed against the pleasure. “Come for me, love. I need you to come for me.”

You were so close, the precipice within your reach, his utterances only hurtling you towards the end. It was when he leaned over your body once more, lips suckling at the soft space where your neck and shoulder met, his wings cocooning your tangled forms that you finally felt the band in your belly snap, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. You could feel how hard you were clenching him, the way your thighs began to shake under his punishing movement, and you let out a final cry of his name.

“Yoongi-!”

The high pitched hum had him spilling inside of you, slowing to pump you full of him with staccato thrusts and groans of his own. When he was sure you were entrenched in nothing but him and his scent, he collapsed, sticky body laying on top of your own, his wings slowly moving to wrap you fully.

Moments like this were some of your favorites, silence with the exception of tandem pants and gasps for air, hearts thrumming fiercely in your chests as they struggle to return to normal. Yoongi was always tender, almost delicate in how he handled you, but in the minutes after showing you his love with his body he became exceptionally so. Cooing, he dotes over you, pressing soft open mouthed kisses on every available inch of skin as you catch your breath.

“I’m sorry, you know.” His voice is a whisper, but his eyes are sharp, watching. “For always being gone, for leaving you here alone. I know Jungkook helps some, but it’s not the same as me just being here, and I wish-”

Leaning forward, you shush him with your lips against his. “It’s okay, Yoongi. I understand why you’re busy, why you’re gone. You’re the King of Hell. Your people, your fellow Fallen - they need you.”

Raising a hand, you trace the delicate lines of his jaw, his lips. “I need you too, of course. But I can always wait until you're done,” He turns his face into your touch until you’re cupping his cheek, thumb smoothing his temple. “I’ll always wait for you.”

Yoongi smiles then, one of his face changing, soul warming smiles, his wings raising to slowly fold against his back. He wants to tell you that he’d give it all up if you asked, walk away from any responsibility, any promise of power, if only you required him to never leave your bed. He wants to weep at your feet, tell you all the ways you changed his blackened heart, his damned soul.

Instead, he rests his forehead against yours, a final promise spoken in the air between you.

“And I’ll always come home to you.”

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thefreelanceangel · 4 years ago

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Shadowbringers Is Finally Ended

With Patch 5.55 and the official end of the Shadowbringers story, setting up now for Endwalker in November, there are now a few months ahead to grind gear, finish content and reflect on the most recent expansion.

And, without any hyperbole, I can say definitively that I have never in my life been as impressed with a game's writing as I have that of Shadowbringers, both the original expansion and a lot of the patch content. I have... thoughts.

I'm a bit of an outlier; I skipped Stormblood (oops) and went straight from completing Heavensward (which greatly impressed me at the time and still does) into Shadowbringers because I wanted to get a max level character already.

Within the first few cutscenes of Shadowbringers, I was absolutely hooked.

First, let me just say that "monstrous angels" is 100% My Thing. I ADORE the reinterpretation of the standard "Renaissance art angelic figures" into something closer to incomprehensible beings taking on twisted, terrifying appearances. The human mind is a finite thing and comprehending an angel would be as difficult as comprehending infinity; these are things so alien to our experience that assuming they'd be easy to grasp and familiar feels disingenuous to me.

So the sin-eaters and the Lightwardens? SLAP.

Also, the intent behind the usage of "Light" in Shadowbringers was deliberate and purposeful. Our Lord and Savior, Yoshi-P, stated this clearly in his Forbes interview.

"The inception of this idea was very simple: in recent fantasy works, the perception that light equates to good and dark equates to evil is very set in stone, we wanted to shake this up a bit.

"Until this point in Final Fantasy XIV, our players have been Warriors of Light: the hero. However, with Shadowbringers, we leave the Source and embark on a journey to the First, and through this I want our players to discover the truth of the world, as well as think about the real nature of light and dark. That is the theme of Shadowbringers.

"In any case, a light too strong could potentially become evil. Darkness and night are also necessary for the world to maintain its balance; that's the kind of theme we will be shedding light on."

And the themes in Shadowbringers had such an amazing resonance that they were both painfully clear and masterfully executed. Not only was the theme of "balance" clearly executed in the "returning Darkness to a world flooded by Light" goal, but the desire for players to "think about the real nature of light and dark" showed in a multitude of ways.

The Warriors of Light (who we met as the Warriors of Darkness in Heavensward) are, in their home world, reviled. They directly caused the Flood which nearly destroyed their home and although they were able to save it with personal sacrifice, the populace at large is unaware of that sacrifice. The motives behind what the Warriors did is essentially lost to history; all that remains is the perception of their actions and the results thereof.

Motives, however, which you (player and WoL) are privy to.

"At long last, you see. To save our world, we gave our lives. We were just adventurers trying to make our way. An odd job here, a favor there—we never aspired to be Warriors of Light. But word of our deeds spread, and soon people were calling us heroes. They placed their hopes and dreams on our shoulders and bid us fight for all that was good and right. We fought and we fought and we fought...until there was no one left to fight. We won...and now our world is being erased from existence. We did everything right, everything that was asked of us, and still—still it came to this! You of all people should understand! We cannot—we will not falter. We brought our world to the brink of destruction, and now we must save it."

You had that fight with the Warriors of Darkness. You heard Ardbert explain exactly what happened, how they came to the point where they faced off against you, and you saw what happened when they were given the choice to hold back the Flood. And you were there when the one favor Ardbert asked was for the Warriors of Darkness to be taken home.

You see how the First remembers them and it's stark contrast to the heroes you met who were fighting desperately to save people who now spit on their names. History quite clearly has two sides and which you believe is dependent entirely on what information you have.

This becomes even more of a clear theme when you meet Emet-Selch and learn more about the Calamity which led to the entire Zodiark/Hydaelyn duality. Here, your previous experiences with Ascians has painted them solely as "villains." They are established enemies, manipulating events and people in order to attain goals which, to you, are nothing but Calamities.

And yet, as you learn more about the original Source and the Amaurotines that once lived on it, these goals are painted in an entirely new light. Instead of merely seeking to wipe out "the world" for no apparent reason or, at best guess, greater power for their deity Zodiark, the Ascians were striving to repair the damage done by the original Sundering. They, in a manner of speaking, were doing what the Warriors of Darkness were. What you, the Warrior of Light, have been doing. They were trying to restore what was lost.

Which leads into another of Shadowbringers' major themes: grief and loss.

The earliest touches of this are in Alisaie's questlines where you learn about what happens to people tainted by the Light. Families are destroyed, people are transmuted into sin-eaters and those who avoid that fate must stand by and watch as their loved ones fall to something far worse than death. "A Purchase of Fruit" shows you exactly what the end result is while also highlighting something very specific: with no hope of removing the Light's taint, knowing that all that awaits the tainted is a painful transmutation and existence as a sin-eater, those untainted make the best they can of those last days and end the tainted individual's pain before it begins.

Grief, yes. Loss? Absolutely. And yet, this is a loving, compassionate thing that those in Amh Araeng are doing. They face their own grief and loss. Rather than refusing to accept the actuality of their circumstances or refuse to weigh themselves down with taking a decisive action, they make the choice to face their grief and loss directly, even willingly taking on the guilt of their actions rather than leaving the tainted to suffer.

Magnus in Twine lost his wife and son, which immobilizes him. He can't find solance in anything save alcohol and brooding over their graves. It takes outside interference to pull him directly from his grief, to help him see past the loss of his family and look towards the future where life might once again be worth living. His struggle with grief is painfully familiar and so very, very close to many real life struggles that it's extremely poignant.

This struggle with grief is the fight the Ascians are, without question, losing. Let's set aside the "tempering" argument when it comes to Emet-Selch and Elidibus for the moment, largely because it's actually quite true that grief can spur people into committing horrific acts either as a desperate attempt to assuage their own pain (revenge) or make 'things right' in some way (vengeance).

Emet-Selch does not, in fact, properly grieve for Amaurot and the Ancients he knew. He clings to them, as Hythlodaeus tells us, weighed down by an aching sense of loss.

"And though he may carry himself with a certain glib ease, Emet-Selch is not a man to bear his burdens lightly. In fact, I imagine they have only grown heavier with every passing century. ...T'is truly a terrible weight he has chosen to carry."

Quite significantly is the word "chosen" in that. Grief is a process that involves, eventually, letting go of the pain and living with the memories of what was loved and what no longer is. Emet-Selch chooses not to do that. He does not grieve for Amaurot and his lost loved ones; he refuses, no matter how often he mentions his loss, to admit that what is gone is gone.

Elidibus, rather similarly, refuses to accept that the duty he took on when called upon to become Zodiark's heart is finally at an end. That the world he and Emet-Selch originated from is gone. Although he admits that he can barely remember why he's set on this path, he refuses to turn away from him.

One won't forget, one can barely remember--neither will grieve and let go.

Even the Ascians' characteristic arrogance and disdain for what they consider "lesser beings" is easy to read as their long-lasting struggle with grief. Considering the Sundering, all the beings that the Ascians are so disdainful of are, in fact, echoes of that which they once knew. If they acknowledged that, accepted those beings as what they are and perhaps even admitted they had worth... well... Rather like realizing abruptly that you've spent a whole day without thinking of someone recently departed, it feels like a betrayal.

To find value in the worlds as they currently are, to turn away from the duty they were asked to uphold, to choose to lay down the memories of the past are all, in essence, choices the Ascians will not make because to do so would be to let go of what's lost, to move into the acceptance of grief and that can feel like betraying those whose memories are slowly fading.

Emet-Selch's end--"Remember us."--is directly tied to his refusal to forget. To let himself have even one day without hoping for an eventuality that's highly unlikely regardless of effort, without remembering the Sundering and the Final Days. He remembered, forcefully and tenaciously, and wishes that legacy to live beyond him.

While Elidibus, in remembering, unable to deny failure any longer, finally expresses grief and loss. "My people. My brothers. ...My friends. Stay strong. Keep the faith. At duty's end, we will meet again. We will. We will. The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it."

And coming from villains, quite specifically from villains that have been largely indistinct "puppet master" figures throughout the previous expansions, these story arcs were a punch to the gut. (Yes, I had to pause writing this to cry helplessly over Elidibus again because my gods, that last line just...) Villains are at their best in fiction when they're relatable. When it's so very easy to see that thin line between villain and hero.

Faced with the loss of everything you'd ever loved, with the faintest possibility of getting it back, what would you do? What wouldn't you do? Yes, the Ascians did terrible things and that's undeniable. Stopping them was necessary to save hundreds of thousands of lives. And doing so, being victorious, didn't feel like a victory and that is such a rare, rare thing in media. The Warrior of Light does the right thing, but in doing so, must face the fact that those they've been fighting have hopes and dreams and feelings and pain as real and as motivating as theirs.

And Shadowbringers does such an impressive job of turning those standard tropes around. Heroes are a dime a dozen because if you just awaken them, as Elidibus did with the starshower, well, there can be dozens of Warriors running around. Villains have heart-wrenching motivations and relatable reasons for their goals. History is multi-faceted and no one person knows what the "truth" truly is. Grief can spur people to helping others (i.e. the tank Role Quest ending) or it can fester and go unhealed and create nothing but more destruction.

There is so much that Shadowbringers did beautifully, I don't have the time to touch on all of it. The lack of "breaking the flawed system fixes everything" trope following Eulmore's liberation from Vauthry and the struggles that Eulmore faces in trying to build a functional, working social order for themselves. Embracing the value of childish dreams and tending to the smallest, most overlooked victims of trauma with the Pixie Tribal Quests. Dealing with a commander whose soldiers died and seeing Lyna's survivor's guilt. Seeing how having a single, unified goal can inspire and rally people into putting differences aside and helping each other.

Shadowbringers has finally ended with Patch 5.55. The story on the First ended with Patch 5.3. And all I can say is that this is a game that I will never forget.

#Shadowbringers #FFXIV #OOC #Yes I had A Lot of Thoughts

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ragnarachael · 5 years ago

Text

Battle Of Wit

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Word Count: 3,053

Summary: Stephen realizes after your most recent battle that he can't lose you, no matter the circumstance. He's just... terrible at expressing his feelings properly.

Author’s Ramblings: thank the single cup of coffee i drank that drove me this fucking wild to write all of this at 3 am the other day,, i really owe it to u Folgers Coffee (and lest we forget the OBCR album of Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812 for being there for me to scream)

Warnings: kinda angsty at the beginning,, but then soft!!! you just gotta push through the fighting!!

MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK ! AO3 LINK

“I had it under control—”

“No, you didn’t, actually,” Stephen seethed, cutting you off smoothly as he opened a portal that led into one of the Sanctum’s rooms that was designated to hold the Eye of Agamotto. “You didn’t have anything under control.”

You scoffed as you walked through the static ring, Stephen soon following after you before the portal snapped shut. He was quick to send his cloak flying off his shoulders to the door that was open leading into the New York Sanctum, walking ahead of you to properly place the Eye where it belonged.

So what, you’d gotten in on his fight? Sure you ended up with a few scratches and bruises, but you won, didn’t you?

“I think you’ll find I did, Stephen. Who was the one who was out of commission because they were helping Wong?”

You knew it was a low blow, but you’re trying to make a point here.

Stephen turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, letting his gaze zero in on your form. “I had it. I just had to get Wong to help with a—”

“You can make all the excuses you want!” You exclaimed, holding your arms out in exasperation. “You just don’t want to admit that I helped you out.”

You watched Stephen tense up as he turned his head back to the task he had in front of him. The Eye was officially off of his body and in his hands, held in mid-air as he stopped placing it on it’s small podium to hear you speak.

“Me, someone with mediocre skills in the Mystic Arts but exceptional skill with defeating arrogant, asshole doctor’s who don’t seem to know how to admit they need help.”

The laugh that Stephen was emitting made your stomach twist with fear, but you stood your ground. Your words and his laughter lingered between you two for a long time as he took his time placing the Eye on it's small podium. You tried to brace yourself for what was to come.

You knew what you did was stupid. You've understood that at this point, having the guilt start to claw its way up to your throat to take back what you said. But you had to keep reminding yourself that you were also right. Yes, you were running on pure adrenaline when you finished the fight—which you didn't expect to do. Your hand is still pulsating with pain from the final blow for chrissakes! You're shocked you even put some of your fighting to use—

"If I needed help out there," Stephen started lowly, finally turning to face you completely. His jaw was clenched tightly due to his rising anger, you assumed. He looked... terrifying in this moment. You know you shouldn't feel this way about your significant other ever in a relationship - but this wasn't a normal relationship. "I would have asked."

His voice was almost like cleaning your wounds. Painful, stinging pain that made you flinch the second it touched the open skin. Almost like you were grinding salt into it.

Stephen wasn't happy. Not at all.

"Really? You would have?" You questioned rhetorically. "Because out there, just 20 minutes ago, you didn't."

"Because I needed Wong to do the spell to finish Doom off!" Stephen shouted. You couldn't help but take few steps back, squaring your shoulders as you took a deep breath. Stephen watched you closely as you stopped to breathe before he just let out a harsh sigh and let his hands run through his hair.

His hands stopped shy of the top of his head to tug at the roots slightly.

"I needed Wong for the spell. I had to step away, that's why I knocked him down. Then you—" Stephen pointed at you accusingly while his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose "—you came in and beat him to a pulp! I'm not saying that I wasn't grateful, as a matter of fact, it was amazing. But you can't just do that!"

"And why not?" You shot back, your own voice starting to rise in volume. "Why can't I? I was saving your ass. Do you want me to just let you get killed?!"

"No, but—"

"He had already blocked your powers once in the fight, Stephen," you seethed, keeping your hands balled tightly at your sides. "What could you have done then?"

You watched Stephen try to find the words to reply before you held your hand up in front of your neck, making a sort of cutting motion in front of it, "nothing. Not even your hands would be able to help you then. I don't even know what Wong's capable of, but we both know he was out of commission after Doom hypnotized him. I was the last resort. I was the one who had to do something to be sure we all didn't end up fucking dead in the Mirror Dimension!"

Your throat ached once you were finished shouting, overworked easily from the emotion that's been bubbling inside of you since you stepped foot in the Sanctum. The tension was thick enough between the two of you to cut it with a knife. You hated these moments with Stephen. You truly did, but the idea of Stephen dying in the hands of Victor von Doom was enough nightmare fuel to keep you up for a few nights for sure. You didn't need to question that.

Taking in a deep breath you tried to calm down the stinging in your eyes, tears threatening to spill over your waterline.

"If you're going to blame me for saving you, then fine. Whatever. But do not think for a second—" you stopped momentarily to try and steady your voice, swallowing thrice before continuing "—that I'd just sit in the sidelines and let you and our friend die."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, ignoring the searing pain from your wounds you'd sustained from the fight as your face contorted. Stephen wasn't even looking at you now. He was looking at the ground, jaw still clenched. It was like he was thinking. He reminded you of a character in a video game who has been left idle while the player went out of the room to get something. Regardless, you knew you somehow got through to him. If Wong weren't back at Kamar-Taj getting taken care of after being taken over by Doom's power, he would be on your side. You knew he would, because he wasn't as stubborn as your lover. He knew when to admit defeat, and wouldn't be determined to do it himself.

"You're not alone, Stephen," you started slowly, gently. A few careful steps towards him made you realize that his anger had dissipated a substantial amount. "You can ask for help. I would be there in a heartbeat."

Stephen all but twitched when you finally decided it was okay to place a gentle hand on his forearm that had the fabric of his robes clinging to him.

It was in this moment you realized that the battle was one of the hardest the three of you had attempted to date. None of you had been prepared for Victor von Doom in the slightest. You were flying blind for the most part. Hell, Stephen and Wong didn't even know about Doom's ability to successfully perform mind transference until it happened.

"You.. You..." Trying to find the words you were wanting to say started to become hard. You were quiet for a while after you said that, trying to pick apart your brain to actually speak. "You can pass the weight of the world on your shoulders to me. To Wong. We've both signed up for this Mystic Arts gig just like you."

Stephen stayed silent. You didn't blame him. Now that your anger has dissipated, you really dug into him and the guilt that was absent from your throat had returned in full force.

Regret, you realized. That's what you were feeling. Stephen was a capable sorcerer. He was so goddamn smart, he knew what he was doing. Well, for the most part. You do think what you had done was necessary in the end still, since Doom was already getting back up on his feet as Stephen tried to see how to help Wong.

But everything you'd said definitely felt as if you were belittling Stephen.

You let out a wet laugh, the tears you were holding finally making it past your waterline dreadfully fast. You were just as quick to sniffle and wipe the tears with the heel of your hand, reminding yourself to breathe.

"Could you say something, maybe? I... I feel like I've been talking to a brick wall for the past few minutes, honey."

The nickname is what pulled Stephen out of his... whatever it was. His eyes looked how they usually did when he started crying—glassy, red-rimmed and swollen with tears that had been rolling down his cheeks freely.

You've seen Stephen like this few times in your relationship. And in this moment? You thought it was because of you. Your words you used in the heat of the fight, cutting the man you loved—which you have never openly admitted—deep enough to make tears pull from his tear ducts and roll down his beaten and bruised face.

As if he wasn't hurt enough after this fight.

"S-Stephen I—"

"I love you."

You stopped dead in your tracks. You were about to apologize for most of the things you said, maybe even cry yourself. But.. he just said those three little words that you'd both been toeing around since last month.

It felt like your heart stopped. Then exploded. And then stopped again before slamming hard against your chest. "You.. You what?"

"I," Stephen started again shakily, his hands moving to cup your cheeks in his shaking hands, "love you."

Your heartbeat continued pounding in your ears.

"W-Wait," you cleared your throat and let your hand that was on his forearm fall, carefully tilting your head up to finally make eye contact. "This isn't a joke, right? You're not... You're not just saying this because you and I just had some kind of-of.. of a fight?"

Stephen sniffled quietly then, shaking thumbs swiping at the tears that were still descending down your face gently - almost as if he were handling glass. "I'm serious."

"You love me?" You asked softly. Quietly, filled with all of the emotion you'd held back just mere minutes ago to stand your ground. Stephen was never one to mix work and play—and you thought this was no exception.

"Yes." Stephen's watery laugh filled your ears then. "I love you. That's—That's why I was angry. You.. You risked your life for me and Wong today. It made me realize how easy it could be to lose you. And I don't want that to happen; I never want to lose you."

If this were a normal conversation—between a man and a woman who have been together for a year and a few months—you wouldn't be giggling like an idiot with your vision being clouded with tears. Okay, maybe you would. It just seemed inappropriate to giggle in this moment. You were giggling. Stephen Strange just admitted he loves you. After you've just yelled at him after a battle that rendered one of your friends back in the hands of the healers back at Kamar-Taj.

And he said he loves you.

"You are such an—"

"I know, I know," Stephen said quickly, cutting you off with a dull chuckle as he leaned forwards to press his forehead gently to your own, not caring about the cut on his skin. "I'm an idiot. Your idiot, however."

You let your shoulders droop, finally relieving them from the tension you were still carrying. One of your hands easily cupped Stephen's while the other slowly wrapped around his wrist, trying to get your emotions together to properly respond to your boyfriend's confession.

"You are." You knew your face contorted into a fond look as you squeezed his wrist gently. He huffed out a laugh as the blanket of silence enveloped you comfortably unlike earlier.

"Aren't you gonna say you love me back?" Stephen teased quietly, his eyes flicking down to look at your lips. You snorted and let your eyes fall shut as you leaned some of your weight against him.

"Well—"

"Oh god, here we go," Stephen quipped.

"Hey! I'm trying to pull a I know on you here," you complained playfully, snapping your eyes open to glare at Stephen.

"Sweetheart, as much as I love you, I don't think you'd pull a Leia on me."

You jutted your bottom lip out into a pout, your brows slowly scrunching up as you did so which caused your forehead to bump into Stephen's. He was quick to hiss, pulling his head back from your own to bring a hand up to hover over where his cut was. Your hands were quick to fall from their spots.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" You exclaimed, laughter trying to cut through your words. "I-I didn't think I would hit it!"

Stephen couldn't help but start laughing with you, trying to hold you back slightly before you went all "doctor mode" on him as you usually would after missions like these. "You're fine! It's fine."

Eventually, your laughter died down into gentle wheezing before you forced your way into Stephen's arms, now cupping his face in your hands to mainly inspect the damage on his face. He had the cut on his forehead that was surrounded with bumps and bruises, as well as a few little scrapes. You sighed gently.

"What am I going to do with you, Stephen?"

Stephen didn't hesitate to let his hands wrap around your waist slowly, as if to test the waters, letting out a hum. "I can think of a few things."

You rolled your eyes then, letting your hands clasp together behind his head to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer once more. You wanted a kiss more than anything at this point, even if you had a bit of a cut lip. A kiss from the man that loved you.

"Stop it. If you think anything R-rated is happening between us tonight, you're dead wrong," you admonished. "We've both got injuries, Stephen."

"C'mon," Stephen urged gently, his hands sliding to flatten at your sides, squeezing your curves under his fingertips, "you've never turned down the shower stuff before."

"Well then today's the day I'm turning it down. Because I'd rather hurt now rather than later."

The face Stephen pulled would have made you laugh if you weren't looking at him so fondly, your mind reeling back to what he said what felt like seconds ago. Those three little words he said were replaying in your head again. Your heart skipped a beat by how giddy you were becoming just by the mere thought of Stephen saying those words to you. It hadn't occurred to you that you were zoned out completely then, Stephen gently saying your name as he shook you a little.

You were quick to blink a bit, letting a smile bloom on your face before you let go of your hands to slide them to his shoulders.

"Say it again," you demanded softly, letting your nails dig into the fabric under your fingertips. "Please."

Stephen definitely didn't get what you meant until your eyes moved from looking up into his own, to looking at his lips. You were thankful he decided to grant your wish when he gently said your name, easily pressing the length of his body against yours.

"I love you."

"I love you too," you replied immediately, your whole heart basically evacuating your body through your words. You loved him. Stephen Strange. The Master of The Mystic Arts. Who ever this man was before, and whoever this man was now, you loved him. That much was evident to the both of you in this moment.

Stephen took a moment to mutter something under his breath before he leaned forward and captured your lips in a searing kiss. As intense as the kiss was, his lips were soft against your own, despite the fact that yours were most definitely weathered from the battle. One of his hands found their spot back on your cheek as Stephen tilted his head to deepen the kiss in the moment before started to pull away to giggle again.

"What?" Stephen questioned quietly. You just shrugged as you kept your eyes shut, feeling Stephen's gaze trail over your face.

"My lips probably feel terrible to you—"

Stephen groaned playfully then, holding back a chuckle. "You need to stop with these one liners when we're having a moment, sweetheart."

"You love me for it!" You exclaimed, opening your eyes now to finally catch the fond look Stephen was giving you.

"I do."

"Does this mean we can get patched up now? As attractive as you look all beaten and... rugged, you should really get cleaned up before something gets infected," you explained, pulling back until Stephen's arms stopped you, gesturing to his whole get up. "I don't need you getting sick again on me."

"Fine. As long as you're the one patching me up, I don't care," Stephen sighed dramatically, letting you go but making sure to grab your hand with his own gently. You grinned at the fact that you didn't have to try and push the offer to him any more than you already did.

You were quick to get up to his height momentarily, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before starting to lead him to the open door that led you two home. In the back of your mind, you knew you would have to have a more adult conversation about earlier once the two of you have rested and cleaned up a bit later in the evening. This wasn't just something you could ignore easily after a heartfelt confession. But you weren't as afraid as you were when the argument started.

Because he loved you. That's all you needed to remember as you headed into this new stage of your relationship with Stephen Strange.

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange #doctor strange #marvel fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel writer #mcu imagine #marvel angst #rachael writes

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thechangeling · 5 years ago

Text

Aimless

For @sankalina sorry this took so long. This is a one shot about aged up Mina Carstairs. I might do a part two if people want.

Mina Castairs was having one of those days where everything was off. She woke up late, rushing through her makeup and looking slightly less put together then usual. It had taken her multiple tries to get her eyeliner looking half way decent. She hadn't even really bothered with her hair, just leaving it down and straight.

She was now daydreaming her way through Qin lesson. It was the instrument that her father had chosen the violin over. He had told her that he sometimes regretted that decision because there are certain Chinese melodies that can not be played on the violin. Mina had decided that she wanted to choose an instrument that represented her heritage as well as something that would stand out from the rest.

Jace played the piano, her father was a master of the violin, Janessa, Kit's best friend and unofficial Parabatai, played a variety of instruments and had the voice of an angel. Mina wanted to be different from the rest.

Kit had laughed when she told him that.

Why would you want to be more different? He had asked. We've already got targets on our backs.

She adored her brother. Truly. But he could be kind of an asshole sometimes.

Regardless, he had always been there for her since day one, looking out for her and guiding her, teaching her the things her parents didn't want her to know. When she was growing up, her father had taught her mandarin along with english and Kit had decided that he would learn it too because he wanted to be able to speak the same languages she spoke.

He of course had promptly decided to teach her swear words in both english and mandarin as well.

They were quite the dynamic duo despite the age difference. She had adopted a lot of Kit's personality which meant that according to her parents she was a lot like Will. Sassy, sarcastic and snarky.

People tended to appreciate the idea of boys with these particular personality traits more then girls.

Mina was deep in thought as she screwed up another note in the song she was trying to play. Her father chuckled good naturally, he had some basis knowledge of the instrument, and was helping her learn to play. Although she was learning partly on her own.

"I'm sorry I just suck today dad" Mina lamented with a deep sigh. Her father smiled sympathetically at her.

"Don't be so hard on yourself Mina mine" he said softly. "You seem distracted, is it Ellie?"

Ellenor Blackthorn-Penhallow was Mina's parabati and had been now for five years. She was the eldest daughter of Helen and Aline, adopted from Antwerp in Belgium when she was two. She also happened to be half seelie half shadowhunter just like Helen. When she met Ellie when she was nine and Mina was ten, something just clicked. It felt right. Ellie just understood her, challenged her, made her laugh.

She made Mina a better person.

She told her parents that she was pretty sure they were meant to be Parabatai and her dad had broken out another one of his infamous Will stories. She knew that the whole Parabatai thing was a soft spot for him. He had also told her a different story that day.

It was a story about someone named Yu Boya who played the qin, just like her. He had a best friend, a woodcutter named Zhong Ziqi, and he would play for him. They say that when Yu Boya played a song of water, his friend would know immediately that he was describing rushing rivers, and when he played of mountains, Ziqi would see their peaks. And Yu Boya would say, 'It is because you understand my music.

Kit of course, being Kit, had instantly chimed in with "That sounds kinda gay." Mina promptly threw a pillow at him.

Their father rolled his eyes good naturally the same way he always did around Kit. Mina could see that through Kit's usual bravado there were tears in his eyes. He was twirling the Blackthorn ring around his finger. He was also eyeing the tattoo of the Parabatai rune he had on his arm. He and Janessa definitely understood each others music. They also sung together beautifully.

Ty's music was different. Probably less instinctive for Kit, but still beautiful. They were married shortly after Mina and Ellie became Parabatai. Ty had been pretty nervous about a huge ceremony with tons of people, but Kit held his hands while carefully stroking the insides of Ty's palms and whispering into ear throughout the entire ceremony. It was almost as if they had been in their own private bubble.

Ellie did not make music like Mina. She was a graphic artist, obsessed with Belgian street art. But Mina found that they still worked quite well together on and off of the battlefield.

Mina shook her head trying to take herself back to the present. "No" she reassured him. "No it's not about Ellie, it's nothing." The truth was she didnt exactly know why she had been feeling off lately. She was getting to be that age where she was expected to know what she wanted to do with her life. Mina was expected to have direction and drive and some kind of...purpose.

Which she definitely didn't.

18 was the year she was supposed to go on her travel year, but her Parabatai was a year younger so Mina had to wait. They were planning on visiting Ellie's place of birth Antwerp, as well as Shanghai. Mina was now filling her time the same ways she usually did, Qin lessions and training, occassionally hanging out with Ellie and Anthony, and avoiding Gianna Blackthorn-Rosales. That girl was a bonified nightmare.

She was getting a little bored with her usual routine. The classic shadowhunter daily grind was not overly appealing to her. As for her warlock side, she was 18 and her powers still hadn't revealed themselves to her. Which was incredibly concerning seeing as it had happened much earlier for Lucie and James.

Maybe she didn't have any.

That was a terrifying thought. As much as she hated constantly being looked at as different, Mina also hated the idea of being painfully ordinary in a family of extraordinary people.

Just as she was finishing another song, there was a loud bang outside. Her father instantly rose from his seat and rushed to the door. She carefully placed her Qin back into it's case and followed him. Her mother came bursting through the door with Helen and Aline shortly after, almost knocking them aside.

Her mom looked to her father placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry" she panted breathlessly. "I was- We were running. The LA institute was attacked."

Her mother spared a glance back at Helen and Aline then looked towards her daughter.

"Mina darling" she said sympathetically. "It's- It's Ellie."

Mina's heart dropped. She could taste bile in her mouth. When she spoke she could hardly recognize her voice.

"What happened to Ellie?"

Her mother's face was almost pitying. Mina wanted to shake her.

She wished her next words were firm and commanding, like a shadowhunter. But her voice was timid and shaking, like a little girl who had just lost her favourite toy.

"Mom. Where's my Parabatai?"

She saw her father's face out if the corner of her eye. His expression was haunting.

"She's been taken."

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #twp #the wicked powers #tmi #the mortal instruments #mina carstairs #tid #the infernal devices #kit x ty

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border-spam · 5 years ago

Text

Leech Lord AU short - It comes before a fall

The craggy landscape of Pandora raced by outside the tinted windows of Troy’s massive technical as the COV war machines that escorted the glossy black hulk thundered around it in a convoy, weaving between the billowing clouds of acrid dust that trailed behind the God’s chariot as they bounced and jostled along the dirt road that lead to their backwater destination.

Its deified passenger wasn’t enjoying the trip quite as much as his retinue, and was finding it difficult to deal with their raucous voices and blaring music audible over the roar of the vehicle’s engines as tires screeched over the rocky dirt road.

He rubbed at his temple, wincing quietly at each bump and grind of the car’s axles, and reminded himself why he was wasting his precious time driving to this nameless little shithole.

Pride.

(Incredible art by @lazulizard ) Troy had reluctantly added the town to his itinerary after noting how close it was to the cult-controlled Eridium plant he’d scheduled to inspect with his vanguard today, it had been an irritant under his skin for long enough, and it seemed fitting to gouge it out when he had a couple of hours to spare, regardless of how much he’d rather be in the Grand Cathedral right about now. The camp was a blip on the map he’d spent so long seeding across Pandora. An insignificant, pathetic speck of non COV land surrounded by the vast sprawl of the Twin’s territory, that had been in the back of his mind for months now. As his iron grip tightened on the region and the cult’s control had spread like a seeping cancer across the desert plains, the gaps had filled in piece by piece, all bar this dive. He’d figured it was time to scratch the itch, they were going to be nearby anyway, just a couple of extra hours drive in the padded luxury of his chauffeured technical and they’d still have time to be back in the Holy City by nightfall, so why not. Get it done. Make the cut.

He just wished his skull wasn’t splitting as the car lurched, or there was some company with him to lighten the mood, give him something to listen to bar the shrieks and throbbing music of his crusaders. The day had been tiring enough, the threats and sneering orders he’d snapped at the plant workers took more out of him than he’d ever feel comfortable admitting. The technical was air conditioned, comfortable, armored, and his driver pleasantly silent, but the migraine wouldn’t budge. He was tired, tired in his fucking bones, and he couldn’t even remember when the last time he hadn’t felt this way was.

Everything was changing, or had already changed. He wasn’t sure which, but what he did know was that this, riding passenger in a 6 million dollar custom war-machine with a bottle of champagne in the platinum holder next to him he couldn’t pronounce, driving towards a shanty town with a retinue of blood thirsty marauders who carved his name into their chests and performed rites of sacrifice in his image, this was not what he’d signed up for. This wasn’t becoming a star was it, Tyreen?

This had turned over time into something else, and he was clawing to try and keep it under control now, constantly. Scrabbling to placate the rot in his gut that whispered it was real, that he was a God, and that these people deserved what his cult did to them.

He rested his head against the blacked out glass of the window, watching the retinue belch fire and smoke from hood mounted exhausts while playfully attempting to push each other off road as they drove on, his guard’s excitement manifesting in triumphant yells and vicious warnings to “Keep your distance” - blasted from car-mounted stereo equipment that echoed out across the wastes. He wished for a moment he could still feel that level of adrenaline, that rush of carefree blood-thirst his crusader’s inebriated themselves with on runs like this. Everything was just.. grey now. Had been for a long time. He let his eyes fall closed, grounding himself. They’d arrive soon. He’d step out of this gilded cage of a car and into the spotlight. He needed to slip on the character. Place the mask. Play the part.

Time to have a nice little chat with them, an unannounced Holy visit. Find out why exactly they hadn’t accepted the COV’s gracious offer to join in all this time… give them a reason to believe.

As the town came into sight through the oily dust clouds in the distance ahead like a rusty blemish on the rocky horizon, he tensed, leaning to his side to get a straight view of it through the dark glass. A wave of disgust ran up his spine as they closed distance and the reality of its state came into focus, sharp eyes taking in the town’s condition while his retinue’s speakers turned toward it to blast an announcement of their God’s arrival.

It was tiny, filthy. Ramshackle junk housing stacked haphazardly on top of each other. Rusted cargo containers turned into homes for people with nothing else to call their own. The crudely cut windows and doors fluttered with rags and patched together clothing set out to dry in the parched desert wind, and they caught the red clouds of dust the convoy billowed into the air as the vehicles screeched to a stop in front of the shabbily constructed entrance to the village.

It made you feel grimy just being here, he thought with a scowl as he stepped down from the technical, watching with disgust as the polished metal of his boots instantly turned dull when they crunched into the red clay beneath him. The God King flipped his fur collar higher and lazily swiped his hair into place with practiced indifference as the crusaders on either side of him thundered forward into the village with weapons raised. His personal guard immediately began to establish a perimeter away from their King, herding and snapping at panicked townspeople with efficient, well trained, deadly ease. He took a moment to assess the terrified crowd of inhabitants that had collected in fearful groups. They were cowering in doorways and stumbling back over each other with hands raised in submissiveness as his vanguard roared orders to “Make way for Father Troy”, parents calling their scrawny children with frantic gestures to get inside their homes, no one giving even the slightest resistance to the demands of his retinue. These weren’t a threat.

Skinny. All of them. Malnourished, most in rags or barely clothed at all. Sickly kids stared at him from sunken eye-sockets over the jagged windows they peeked out of, this place was diseased. The few weapons he noted as he scanned across the crowd were rusted or poorly junked together out of scrap. These weren’t even bandits, bandits were more robust than this, these were just people. The forgotten of Pandora, the absolute bottom rung in the pecking order. People, trying to survive on a planet that you either sacrificed your morals to, or your life.

Something in his gut twisted in response to that. Something that he’d rather not think about as he strode into the village, his polished smile and immaculately clean outfit emphasising the wealth and power he held in stark contrast to the dust coated poverty he stalked into, he stood out like a wound here, twinkling jewelry and harsh metal spines of his cybernetics glinting in the evening sun. The commanding presence he emanated was amplified by the crusaders who flanked him on either side in their warped skull masks and dark leather armor, monochrome bar the neon splashed COV weapons and chrome spiked accessories they wore as uniform. No one kept God King Calypso waiting long, and the old woman stumbling towards him was clearly the town leader - considering the worried glances towards her from the rest of the villagers as they watched in nervous silence.

She stopped a couple of feet before him, not reacting to the weapons raised in unison by his vanguard, a tiny little woman, all pinprick brown eyes and brown craggy skin, who’s wispy white hair fluffs in the breeze like a cloud perched onto her scalp. She wasn’t remotely afraid, he could feel that straight away, but she bowed to him politely, spoke her crude little greeting respectfully through a dry old throat.

“Troy Calypso, welcome, majesty. Not sure why yer here, but what can we do for a God kind enough t’ grace us with his presence?”

He took the bait, sparkling smile spreading wider as his eyes narrowed , gesturing with a grand bow towards her to emphasise his reply:

“Oh, no, no ma'am, what can we do for you? That’s why I’m here. To get an answer to this tricky lil’ question at last.” he smarmed, standing to his full height again, golden fangs so clearly peeking out of the now wolf like grin as his eyes twinkled with mock kindness.

“The COV would love to welcome you into our family. Have wanted you to join for quite a while! I thought a… hah.. personal touch might help, came to have this polite chat with you myself, hope I wasn’t too forward.” he raised his mech fist slowly, counting off the bladed fingers theatrically as he continued.

“Food. Medicine. Safety. Guns. Protection, we offer the same benefits to all our followers, and we really do ask for so little in return - just your fealty, and that’s such a small th-”

“No thank you.” she croaked in reply, cutting him off mid sentence. The crowd behind her gasped in quiet shock at the rudeness, and the insult of her dismissal shot like a sniper round directly into the back of his brain. He reeled for a second, mouth souring out of the fake smile it had been locked into as he took a moment to scrutinise her wizened little face through a disapproving side-eye. The right panel of his maw twitched involuntarily - just quick enough for a flash of razor sharp teeth to catch the sunlight as it slid back into place.

He almost mouthed his thoughts, nearly warned her to not do this, not when there were people he had to maintain his reputation in front of, but he swallowed it down instead with an arrogant tilt of his head and flex of his lithe torso. Locked it deep in his belly and hoped she’d realise her mistake.

The old woman was expressionless, but wasn’t meeting his demanding stare. Her eyes were instead trained on the skull tattoo shifting across his chest with each controlled breath, was she aware of the knife-edge she was walking on? Did she know the danger she was really playing with? He closed the distance slowly, a subtle hand gesture commanding his guards to lower their weapons as he came close enough to her to hunch down, dropping his towering frame to bring his face closer to her eye level.

He said nothing for a moment, breathing in the smell of dust and old sweat she gave off in loud, deep huffs through his nose. She was shivering, not as stoic as he’d thought. He could see that now that he was so close to her throat.

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he sighed. Troy was tired. He wasn’t in the mood to play this game, even when he could see ten steps ahead and knew the direction she was making the terrible mistake of heading in. Letting the persona slip away, he lowered his voice, wanting to keep this between just them and out of range of the surrounding nearby crowd.

“Lady, help me out here... I’m confused. I’m fuckin’ insulted.” He muttered, jaw a little tighter than he wanted to acknowledge as he continued.. “Your town is too small to even tax, we ask nothing from a shanty this size. I waive tithes… ” Troy paused as he turned his mouth closer to her ear, close enough for the heat of his breath to prickle the hair on her neck, and lowered his voice further till it was barely a husky whisper.

“All the COV will ask from you is loyalty. You know I could level this shithole with a nod… right? You get that I could massacre aaalll these people with just a word? Why. Why would you deny us? These people, these kids are s-starving. These kids are sick. We- I can fix that, like this:”

He snapped his flesh fingers next to her ear, and bristled pleasurably at the wave of perverse satisfaction that rolled through his stomach when she jolted in response, her paper thin eyelids fluttering. Did she understand now, he wondered, flicking his piercing gaze to one of the skinny kids holding onto their mother’s leg nearby, and the look on their face as they stared at him, like they were realising the Big Bad Wolf wasn’t entirely make believe. Did she understand the out he was giving her, the genuine offer of charity hidden behind the God King’s sneer? That he couldn’t provide it unless she bowed and played along?

She shifted a little, her stiff old shoulders popping in complaint as she did, and finally raised those warm little brown eyes to meet his bitingly cold ice blue ones.

“I didn’t mean t’ insult his liege..” she breathed, and he waited for her to continue, waited to hear her out.

“Maybe you just got too big t’ understand. Maybe bein’ so strong can leave you soft in places you don’t know about anymore. Cuz’ starving to death? Bein’ sick?” she shrugged awkwardly, lowering her eyes to his chest again.

“We all die, but at least you’d still die free.”

That stab landed. He sucked in a jagged breath and held it, shaking. The moment of silence that followed felt like a millennia to the hundred people huddled around them, too far to hear what had been said, but close enough to see his reaction to it, see the jagged black metal spines of his vertebral implant raise and vent crackling red Siren energy in response to the berserk anger their leader’s muttered words had ignited in the King.

His fist tightened by her ear as his markings flared, and the pulse of scarlet light bathed them both in that moment, reflecting cruelly in the piercing eyes that bored into the side of her head as she refused to meet his stare.

The rage rolled off God King Calypso’s hulking frame in tangible waves... but the old woman did not waver.

He straightened slowly, maw clicking and twitching in fury as he rose. A stringy line of drool slavered from the split mandible and landed at her feet as his eyes narrowed, and Troy smiled at her, his jaw clipping together into a friendly grin so transparently hostile you could see the fangs snapping into place behind it. His eyes scanned the crowd rapidly, pausing imperceptibly on each of those scrawny kids that hid their faces from him now, terrified past their curiosity. OK. If this is the way she wanted to play..

Then he’d do the same. ”Fine”, he barked, voice clear and loud, making sure every villager would hear what he had to say, that all eyes were locked on him as he continued. “No problem ma’am. I’m not a man to push my kindness on others. Good luck with your..." he paused to crack a false laugh, shifting his eyes to the nearest family - “Your uh.. “dying free”.” He winked at them, and then his entire demeanor shifted purposefully, making a scene of dropping the playful act and warping into grim disgust as his gaze snapped back to her, still refusing to meet his eyes. He began to turn, and gestured for his retinue to follow, their boots crunching through the dirt as they stormed to his side. He made one final pause as the reached their vehicles and looked back, lifting his monstrous cybernetic arm to wave playfully at the gathered people, watching with satisfaction as a few cringed when the bladed fingers caught the dying sunlight. “By the way!” he bellowed, commanding their absolute attention again as his mouth split into a wolfish grin. “If you need any help with components for building all those little kid sized coffins, give us a call, yeah? We’ll cut you a good deal.” The looks they shared were a reassurance at least. Maybe someone would listen after all.

*******

"Fucking MOVE” he hissed at his driver as a crusader closed the car’s door after him, and they gassed it at his command, the hulking technical’s tires spinning a cloud of debris towards the town's inhabitants as they covered their eyes and coughed. He couldn’t get out of this shit-hole fast enough. Couldn’t get far enough from those *children* and the way they’d looked at him, he flicked his eyes to the rear view mirror and felt a cold chill through his burning chest as they faded into the dust behind the convoy. That stupid woman. That stubborn old bitch. She’d let them die rather than bend a fucking knee. He was disgusted, and not fully sure who with. Slamming his boot into the back of the partition in front of him and feeling the car swerve as the driver jolted, he screamed “Drop the DAMN DIVIDER, YOU MORON!!” - panting in anger as they fumbled in panic to hit the switch and activate the internal armor at his demand. He’d barely managed to keep the storm of emotion brewing inside him contained when they finally found it, and felt a wave of relief when the reinforced metal screen closed between them, giving him privacy at last. Troy hunched forward in his seat and pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes closed and desperately trying not to sob. What the fuck had just happened back there? He wanted to cry, his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest and he couldn’t seem to get enough air, lungs heaving as he shuddered in gasps while trying to swallow down the panic. What had happened? In 6 years of recruiting, 6 years since the COV had reached a level of power where they were no longer told no, he’d never encountered anything like that situation. He wasn’t prepared for it, he’d never had to deal with this mix of completely opposing emotions before. Standing there looking at sick kids he knew could help so easily, but knowing that under the scrutiny of his vanguard and the terrified eyes of the villagers, he couldn’t break character to do it. He ran his flesh fist into his hair and gripped hard into the dark mess, pulling sharply at his scalp as he crumbled further forward, head nearly between his knees as he trembled. Trying to give that bitch an out, trying to be clear in his cunning, emphasising what he was offering, and being denied the only route he had to help them by a weak old woman too proud and stubborn to give the nothing he asked for in return. Nothing! Some COV propaganda plastered about the town would have been more than enough, it didn’t make sense. He couldn’t understand. No one said no. No one denied them. He hissed as the first tear spilled down his cheek, then threw himself back into the seat and *screamed*, bludgeoning the massive mech arm into the steel divider. Not caring if the driver heard him choking out tears. Not caring if they told the others, not caring about anything anymore bar those kids, and how sick he’d been, and how powerless he was now even when he paraded himself as a God, how much of a lie it was. He had no control. He had to act the part, always, even when it was something he hated, when it wasn’t what he wanted. Troy snarled as the hot wet slick under the bracer and the telltale burn along his delicate scarred shoulder became noticeable, but didn’t stop, hammering the metal over, and over, as the agonising jolts buckled the arms outer plating more with each blow. His voice was starting to crack between sobs, wheezing on the intake as his weak lungs began to fail, but he had to spew this bile out now, knowing he couldn’t risk trying to carry this level of emotional turmoil into the Holy City while hoping the mask didn’t slip in front of Saints, or his sister. He was a fake. No God would be sobbing like this, having a tantrum alone in the back of a damn car.

Nothing about him was fucking real. That woman had seen it, she’d looked right through him like he was glass. Straight past the bluster and fangs, to the stammering, sick, broken, weak man he’d thought he’d hidden, and known she could say no. Known straight away that she was stronger than him. He’d thought.. he’d hidden that person.. so well. Coughing a final sob as his ruined arm shuddered on damaged pistons and slid to his side, he lifted his left to cover his face, slumping back in his seat, silent now bar for the pained hiccups that followed. God. He didn’t know what to do.. Part of him wanted to say screw it, order an airdrop of supplies off the books. Food, medicine, some guns. Anything to give them a chance out there. He was in charge of finance, no one would need to know, maybe he could manage it and keep his reputation intact... But the other part of him wanted to send the command to have the fucking shit-hole razed to the ground. How’s your freedom taste now, while slag melts the flesh off your bones you stupid old bitch. Troy coughed quietly, sinking lower into the seat as he rested his sore neck against the curve of the headrest, trying to steady his breathing as he forced himself to calm. There was no longer any sound outside, no shouting or broadcasts, just the dull roar of the convoy’s engines, like white noise in the back of your mind. The same craggy Pandoran landscape raced past as before, but pitch dark now, the only light being what streamed from the vanguard vehicle’s headlamps. Suddenly, the technical bounced over a bump in the dirt track and he winced as he jolted forward, then nervously lifted the front of his coat as he felt a trickle down his right side, sighing in embarrassed defeat as he saw the blood seeping from under the bracer seam resting against his lower ribs. Perfect, he thought, banging his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes.

Wonderful, he’d really made the right choice with that breakdown, huh. The arm was junked, his shoulder was torn to pieces, and he’d probably lost his voice. Tyreen was going to eat him alive, if she even noticed, he reminded himself with a humorless snort, too tired to even manage a sneer. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his Echo, sniffing as he bent his head to rub his eyes on his forearm, too blurry with tears and mascara to see the display clearly. He didn’t know what to do. But she would, wouldn’t she. He slowly thumbed through the 2 years of unanswered messages, all read, over and over on nights when things were bad, but none responded to. All from her. Checking in if he was ok, repeating it hadn’t been all his fault, letting him know she was still right there if he ever needed her. She’d know. He could ask. He could ping her right now, and she’d know what to say straight away. She’d point him in the right direction, dig the worry out of his chest and slap the back of his head with a few blunt words of choice like she always managed. Seifa would know.. He didn’t realise how hard he was gripping the E-Dev till a straggling tear dropped to his bone white thumb knuckle, and he blanched, snapping out of his lost thoughts as he shook his head. With one last glance at her messages, he tapped the display button and dropped the Echo to his lap, then lifted his shaky hand to wipe at his eyes, feeling the oily shift of streaked eyeliner under his fingers. He needed a fucking shower. He was so tired. ****

Had so much fun writing this and appreciate any and all feedback and comments! If you’re interested in the Leech Lord Borderlands 3 AU, check out my pinned post and the tag on my feed for all the content.

#Borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #seifa #leech lord #my hcs #my writing

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