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skylarsblue · 11 months

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✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

~✦Part Two✦~

✧Alejandro, Rodolfo, König, Alex✧ ✦GN!Reader, mostly fluff, mild descriptions of wounds/combat/war, random call signs and some use of y/n, minor sexual tension, inconsistencies with canon timelines because I'm better than the games(/j), I started this before König was called a colonel, poorly translated Spanish & German that I apologize for (correct me please-)✦

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Civilians let out screams and ducked into houses to hide. Tan colored vans and trucks lined the streets of Mexico as shots were fired. The moments of quiet were as worrisome as the sounds of gunfire in a situation like this. Alejandro cursed as yet another man declared their ammo low. They were running out, at the rate they were going, they’d need to pull back. Alejandro was a stubborn man, however, and bowing down to a cartel would’ve done damage to the credibility of his men, along with his own ego. “Colonel, there’s a car coming in. Unmarked.” His radio crackled with the information. “Aye, watch it. Keep looking. Does it look like the enemy?” Alejandro replied, getting a negative in response. As if there wasn’t a risk of fire being brought out, the car stopped in the middle of a paused stand off. Out of the vehicle stepped one person, dressed in a way that stood out completely. “What in the hell is this?” Alejandro hissed as he watched the civilian look around. They were wearing a mask of porcelain, decorated elegantly with gold paint, almost like a statue of crying Virgin Mary. He locked eyes with them, and they…motioned for him to pause. “What do we do?” The soldier beside Alejandro asked. “Sir, I think I know who this is.” His radio called. He watched as the stranger turned to confused members of the enemy, raising their hand to the sky. Three fingers, two, and then one. The cartel’s side of the street blew up and the stranger ran for cover. “Mierda! What the fuck is happening?!” A soldier exclaimed. Alejandro’s radio triggered again with enthusiastic laughter. “Resistance sir, the one I’ve been telling you about!” The colonel took a breath. “The one run by civilians? How’d they set this up?” He asked roughly, aiming his gun to take a shot. “They’re smart, sir. That one you saw? That’s their leader. A talk with them would be a good idea, they’re a powerful ally, a stronger bond could prove useful.” Alejandro looked across the field in awe as the stranger took out a few more cartel soldiers. They then looked at him, giving him a nod and a salute. For the first time that day, Alejandro smiled. “A strong ally indeed.”

(I make them speak mostly English so I avoid making mistakes in Spanish, I'm sorry-) It had been a month since that day, and three weeks since Alejandro & Rudy had properly met the mysterious masked individual. They'd proven themselves rather charming, even if a bit suspicious. Alejandro had been rather excited to meet the individual who'd managed to secretly gather well-trained civilians to aid them against the cartel, pulling stunts like they did before. Though their real name was a heavily guarded secret, much like their face, they did have a name of sorts to associate with them. Los Lares, in reference to Roman mythological deities that provided protection. Their leader, the masked individual, known only as Padres, though occasional nicknames popped up from individuals they were close with. Alejandro had done his best to assess whether they were trust worthy or not, they did the same to him. And after two successful mini missions, Padres agreed to show Alejandro, Rudy, and some of his men what they'd been hiding. "Well would you look at this..." Alejandro said quietly as they drove through a small village. Guarded heavily with armed civilians was a tiny town commandeered by Los Lares, rather than the cartel. Kept safe from the carnage in the rest of Las Almas. The car rolled through slowly, allowing them to gaze at buildings without bullet holes, covered in colorful decorations. Children ran around playfully, adults standing around and talking, some small market carts on the edge of the street that gave out fresh food and household items. Music playing over speakers. Not a single skull balaclava in sight. Rudy pulled over and parked by a building at the end of the long street. The shell of a church it seemed. Outside of it was Padres, running around with children on their tail. When they noticed the men that had pulled up, they declared for the children to play on their own for a bit. Alejandro couldn't stop his smile as he continued looking around, eyes falling back on them. "This is what you meant by Sanctuary." He said. "Si, I made it myself. No violence occurs here, no fear. How it should be." They explained. "Rodolfo. My second in command, Emil, wanted to discuss things with you, if you wouldn't mind." Padres said, motioning to the man behind them. Rudy looked at Alejandro, who nodded. Rudy walked off after that and left them alone. "I see why you were so secretive now." Alejandro stated, watching them nod. "It usually takes a lot longer to be allowed access here. But I knew you'd be trust worthy." They explained as they leaned against the jeep he'd arrived in. He crossed his arms and leaned on the car as well. "And when did you decide this?" He asked. Padres chuckled and blinked at him past the holes of their mask. He wondered how eye contact alone could make him feel so warm, tingly. "I met your gaze during that gun fight and I could tell. You have the light of angels, querido." They purred. Alejandro chuckled quietly and shook his head fondly. "¿Coqueteando? ¿De verdad?" He asked in a hushed voice, leaned in slightly. They raised both hands in mock surrender. "I see a lot in your eyes, Colonel. Many, many things. Tu disfrute es uno." They teased. Alejandro ran his tongue over his teeth. "Si? I see things in your eyes too." He replied. Padres tilted their head and silently urged him to elaborate. Alejandro let out a breath and smiled. "Peligro. Mucho." He exhaled, senses lit aflame when he saw the distinct signs of a smile hidden behind the mask.

Alejandro enjoyed when he had time to visit the sanctuary Padres had created. There was so much joy around and peace filled the air, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like his shoulders could relax. That he could be at ease. In his visits, he often saw families, children running around with big grins, hearing the innocent laughter always brought Alejandro joy and a sense of longing. He'd always been the familial type with a large soft spot for kids. It showed in his actions, like currently, as he let two boys hang off of his arms like some playground equipment. They giggled and squealed in jovial fun as he hoisted them higher, though he set them down gently when their mother's face grew a bit apprehensive. It was when a little girl, leading a group of children, asked to play hide & seek that things really got to be fun. Alejandro found himself hiding under a table in one of the homes, another child at his side. He held his finger to his lips as they giggled away behind their hands. Both of them seized up when evenly spaced footsteps made themselves present, too heavy for a child. Alejandro had a quick flash of memories that made his body tense up, watching the table cloth be lifted. But it wasn't an enemy, nor a child, but instead a porcelain mask with a smiling individual underneath. "Room for one more?" They asked in a whisper. Alejandro blinked before he snickered and nodded. Both he and the child carefully scooted back to allow Padres more room. "Isn't our hiding spot good, Padres?" The child asked excitedly. "Si, Rosa, it is. I almost couldn't find you both." They replied in a tone akin to a praising mother, something that made Alejandro's chest ache. "What gave us away?" He asked them, smiling wider when they glanced his way. "Your boots, colonel. Your laces were untied, they poked out from underneath." They answered, prompting Alejandro to look. Sure enough, his left boot lace was untied. He sighed and shook his head at the rookie mistake, still grinning however. A beat of silence passed before a rush of tiny footsteps came in, prompting the three to be extra quiet. "Got'cha!!" The little girl declared as she lifted the table cloth. Rosa screamed and laughed, quickly getting up to run away. Both Alejandro and Padres stayed, watching Rosa make a swift get away from her friend running after her. Leaving them both alone under the table. "You are good with kids." The self-appointed commander said fondly. Alejandro melted at the sentiment alone, it always felt like one of the highest level compliments when someone said it. Even more so coming from them. "Gracias, Padres." He said, only for them to shake their head. "Y/N. My name is Y/N, when we are alone, you may call me that." They said softly, leaving Alejandro surprised. The shock wore off quickly and a pleasant tenderness filled the air, showing in their shared gaze. "Losing the mystery, aye?" He asked. "No, merely trusting you with my secrets. I trust I made a good decision?" They replied. Alejandro nodded. "Now I just have to get that mask off of you." He teased. They gave a quiet laugh. "I can't wait..."

It was always nice to celebrate after a successful mission, especially one as high stakes as this. With a large threat neutralized, it seemed like a big party was the right answer. There was a large hand of help from Los Lares, and the citizens who called the refuge home saw it only right to allow Alejandro's men into their sanctuary, to indulge in their victory with loud music and home cooked meals. Alcohol as well, of course. Alejandro stood on a roof and watched the streets below, lit up with colorful lights and bustling with music. He felt his shoulders relax as he watched his soldiers mingle, laughing loudly, raising toasts to their lost brothers & sisters. He took a swig of beer as his gaze shifted to the sky, full of twinkling stars. He went to take another drink, only to find the bottle empty. He debated going back down to grab another one, only to feel a hand rest on his lower back. He flinched and looked over, met with a familiar mask and a kind gaze. "Need another, colonel?" Y/N asked softly, holding up an open beer. Alejandro chuckled and took it, setting the empty one on the roof's edge. "Gracias. How'd you know?" He asked. He turned his body to watch them, even spaced steps taking them to a couple of supply crates. They took a seat and shrugged, he could feel their calm smile in their aura. "Lucky guess. You weren't down there, spotted you up here and I figured you'd like some company. Was I right?" They asked with a head tilt. He walked closer with an exhale. "Yes and no." He answered. They silently encouraged him to elaborate, tilting their head to look up at him as he came to stand in front of them. "Oh?" Alejandro chuckled and set the beer down beside them. "I was looking forward to your company." He admitted. Even in the low light of the moon, he could see their pupils expand. "Such a charmer, Mr.Vargas." They teased in a hushed tone. He rose his hands with a quiet laugh. "Interesting choice in company, however. An individual with no face for you to name." They said. Alejandro's face softened. There was a short beat of silence that seemed to last forever, finally a peaceful moment without the worry of being killed, allowing him to admire them properly, despite the mask. He then remembered their promise, the words spoken to him to keep his morale high when things were looking bleak. So, though he was careful, he rose his hands to their face, cautiously grazing the edge of the mask with his fingers. "Is that right?" He whispered. They didn't move back or scold him, merely kept his eyes locked with theirs in a look that sent shivers down his spine, even as he edge the mask up. It was pulled away and in an instant, they were exposed fully. Alejandro let out a breath and forgot to inhale afterward. Their smile caused his lungs to constrict in tight thorns. "Well? ¿Algo que decir, coronel?" They asked, and though their tone was cool, he could see the flinch of fear. The anxiety of rejection. He took his free hand to brush over their cheekbone, feeling warm skin instead of cold glass. "Peligrosa… peligrosamente hermosa." He whispered back. They snorted. "How cheesy..." They teased again, tilting their head up to meet him halfway.

✧Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra✧

Rodolfo’s eyes cracked open, he let out a short wheeze. He wasn’t all there, but he was keenly aware of a large commotion outside. He could faintly recall his mission and how he ended up with the throbbing in the back of his head. An RPG hit the building he was in just right and it knocked him out cold. Astigmatism disrupted his vision and his limbs felt heavy. He winced when a light came from the side, the sun, beaming through as the broken door was shoved off. He blinked, and there was someone he’d never seen before. They weren’t really dressed for battle, wearing a decorated porcelain mask with a rifle strapped to their back. Rudy’s hand twitched for his gun before they hushed him, placing their hand on his arm. “Tranquilo ahí, cariño. I’m on your side.” They said gently before turning their head to shout some orders at an unseen person. They turned back to him and cautiously turned his head, clicking their tongue sympathetically as he whined. “Took quite a hit, huh? Don’t worry, we have help on the way and your friends and mine have almost cleared out the enemy.” They took out a flashlight, shining it in his eyes When his pupils responded normally, they put the flashlight away and called out some more orders. Rodolfo decided to try and sit up but he barely moved before nearly falling back on the floor. They caught him by the back of his neck. “Easy, pretty boy. Don’t make yourself worse.” They said, gently guiding him to sit up with their support. Rudy blinked and groaned. He got a better look at them now, pushing past his dry mouth to try and speak. “You…you are the ally Alejandro mentioned…” he grunted. Their eyes scrunched, indicating a smile. “That’s right, dear. And I’ll get you out of here. You can trust me on that.” They promised.

Rodolfo carefully scratched around the edge of a bandage on his head, huffing when Alejandro lightly flicked his hand, scolding him for fidgeting with it. "I'm healing fine." He said quietly, glancing at the map on the table in front of them. "Still, shouldn't mess with it." Alejandro replied with a caring pat to his shoulder. They were waiting in a planning/common room in the main base of their new adversaries, a civilian led resistance against the cartel. Rudy recalled the way they carefully held him steady when they'd found him, after he'd been knocked unconscious. Alejandro swore they were trustworthy, and so far, they'd definitely been helpful. Alejandro stood more straight when the door swung open and Padres entered the room, a few of their men behind them. The two of them overheard the leader scolding a civie-soldier for not eating breakfast before they turned to the two friends. They were dressed more casually than the other times they'd met. Looking liked they'd just been dragged out of bed, actually. And although they seemed sleepy, still in slippers even, they still bore their mysterious porcelain mask. "Apologies, my alarm didn't go off." Padres apologized in a gentle tone. Alejandro chuckled and shook his head. "You all there yet, Padres?" He asked, smiling when they waved their hand, approaching the table. "I can still explain my plan to you, si." They replied before yawning, Rudy smiled as they went to cover their mouth for the sake of manners, despite the face covering. Their eyes landed on him and he could see the signs of a smile in their gaze. "Ah, chico lindo, how's your head?" They asked. Rodolfo felt his cheeks warm at the nickname, they hadn't been subtle when he first met them either. "Fine, just sore." He replied. At that moment, the quiet mutterings of a man who'd come in for some coffee hit the room. A soldier named Ramirez. Whispering about Rodolfo's skills, trying to imply he wasn't a true soldier for being wounded "so easily", which made another snicker. Rudy didn't show a reaction to it, Alejandro scowled, but both men jumped when Padres gasped. With skilled precision, they flicked their slipper from their foot and caught it from the air, launching it in the direction of Ramirez. A perfect headshot as the slipper smacked the back of the soldier's skull. Alejandro and Rudy shared a look, recalling their own experiences with the all feared chancla. "Debería darte vergüenza! These men give their life everyday for the sake of our country, they were fighting before you were given your status in my army, show some respect! You will not disrespect this man again, do you understand me?!" They shouted, finger pointed. The man shrank, rubbing the back of his head. "Si, commander." Padres put their hands on their hips. Ramirez approached with their slipper, which Padres snatched from his grip, dropping it on the floor so they could it back on. "Now apologize for your insolence." They demanded, pointing at Rudy. Both Rodolfo and Alejandro watched with wide eyes as a grown man, tall and buff, turned with his head down like an embarrassed child, muttering an apology. Rudy swallowed and let it go, unable to look away from the mysterious individual who'd defended him so valiantly. They'd been so gentle and sweet. Rudy felt his mouth grow dry and his stomach twist as they sent Ramirez away with a wave of their hand. With a breath and a headshake, they turned to face him again, smiling once more. "Now, let's get this done, alright?" They asked. Rudy nodded, not missing the teasing glance Alejandro gave him.

It was sweltering, as expected for a Mexican Summer. The speedy movement and adrenaline of avoiding gunfire only added to the discomfort. There were still cartel members outside, but at a distance. There was quiet for a moment, excluding Rodolfo's breathing being hissed through his teeth. A bullet had skidded past the back of his hand, tearing through his glove and leaving blood running down his arm. He was sat on the floor of an abandoned house, jacket discarded and shirt sleeve rolled past his elbow. "I know it stings, but you'll be alright." His ally, Padres, spoke softly to him past their mask. He nodded and leaned his head back against the wall, watching them dig through a bag for medical supplies. He held his hand up to lessen blood flow, letting it run across the dips in his muscled forearm. "How is it that every time you find me, I'm bleeding?" The man asked with a playful tone, smiling slightly when they snickered. "Well, mi tonto y querido soldado. It's because you're a reckless fool." Their thumb pressed into the area around the wound, making him wince, looking them in the eye. Their gaze was sharper than before, although not malicious. "You are so smart but so, so very stupid sometimes." They shook their head, taking away the pressure from his hand, holding it cautiously now. "You're swift, you're experienced, you're intelligent. But you're hot headed, and sometimes you get too focused on a goal to realize you're stepping on a land mine. It amazes me you're not more battered than you are." Their concern was warranted and their praise was met with warmth in his face. He swallowed and looked back at them again as they examined his wound, slowly rising their gaze to him again. He could see the signs of a gentle smile in their eyes. They hushed him soothingly when his hissed at the sting of disinfectant. His hand twitched involuntarily from the odd feeling on his nerves. "You have a point." He sighed, looking at their surroundings for a moment. He let out a short laugh after a few seconds of silence. "At least you're always near by to fix me up, no? I seem to heal faster when you're caring for my wounds." He muttered, feeling his stomach twist with an exciting bout of nerves. He wasn't much of a flirting type, and he tried to keep it subtle enough in case he'd been misreading. Padres chuckled fondly as they pressed down a bandage around his arm, kindly wiping away the blood. "Not the first to have told me that." They said fondly. With one last look at his hand, the clicked their tongue as they took in the damage. "Your hand will likely be difficult to use for until it's healed. We'll need to speed up that process." Rudy rose an eyebrow, confused. His eyes widened when they lifted their mask slightly, just enough to expose their mouth. It was hard to remember to breathe as a care kiss was placed over the bandage, he swore he could feel the burn of their lips past the layers, seeping into his wound and sending shocks in his blood. "Stay vigilant, chico lindo, I need you in peak condition."

(tw; war and brief mentions of wounds) Rodolfo panted heavily as he vaulted through a broken window, feeling perspiration on his skin from the heat of fire and exercise as he continued to sprint through a broken down building. There was bloodshed, naturally, it came with the job. But there was something in his stomach that twisted as he worried he'd find their body amongst those empty of souls. He'd promised to be more careful, but he'd dropped that worry as soon as their mic cut out. The fight had died down and an evac was only two miles away, but he demanded proof of their demise before he'd step anywhere near it. The man's steps crackled over broken glass and after the constant rain of bullets, the silence felt all the more deafening. His ears rang with a high pitched whine that he tried to ignore, listening for anything amongst the worrying stillness. He felt hope dwindle as seconds tic down, until he heard the sound of moving rubble in a room he'd yet to check. It could've been an enemy, perhaps it wasn't them, but despite the risk he rushed over and pushed the broken door out of his way. His breath left his lungs with weight as he saw their back, struggling to push themselves up. "Oh, gracias a Dios, estás vivo." Rudy said as he rushed over. A cruel sense of deja vu hit him as he gently guided them into sitting up, their hands covering their face. They groaned quietly, leaning against him for support. Rudy took a quick glance around, seeing pieces of their iconic mask broken. "Where are you wounded? Evac isn't far, what do you need?" He asked, only to hear them let out a strained chuckle. Slowly, blood covered hands stopped covering their visage. Air punched out of his chest as he finally got their face, and while blood dripped from a fairly painful seeming gash on their forehead, they smiled. "Tranquilo, cariño. Estoy bien." They said, gaze tired and a bit dazed. Rudy sighed and shook his head. "You've already used that line..." He said back, unable to stop the tiny smile as they snorted. "So I have." They hummed, resting against his armored shoulder. Rodolfo swallowed and chewed on some words stuck in his throat for a moment, up until they tapped him. "Just ask me already, Rodolfo. I'm losing blood and I think you should know how much I like you by now." They said with a hint of smugness. Rudy clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, chuckling when the poked him again. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young man." They scolded playfully, groaning in pain as he carefully helped them up, pulling them close to keep them supported. "A drink after this sounds nice, si?" He asked quietly. They nodded lazily. "With you? Absolutely." Rudy smiled and began slowly guiding them out of the broken building. "It's a date then."

✧König Badubrecht✧

Konig anxiously fiddled with the bracelet he snuck under his sleeves while he waited. He recalled a breathing technique and tried his best to keep his breaths quiet, but full enough to keep him calm. On any other day, he would've been mostly fine, but this was not every other day. No. His commander had told him that he, and two other soldiers, would be meeting up with a rather impressive taskforce run by Captain John Price. As if it wasn't enough that Ghost was on the team, as well as the ties they had to impressive forces in Mexico, all of that on its own was enough to get him antsy to make a good impression. But there was something in particular that caused his nerves to light up with unease. Meeting their sniper. Only known by their callsign 'Hotshot'. When Price had chosen them, word spread fast to allies about the impressive track record they carried. Twice, they had missed a shot twice. That was two compared to, give or take, three-thousand-four shots they had taken. A number that steadily grew with each mission, one kept track of just to prove the otherwise outrageous number. König loved the idea of being a sniper and practiced frequently, even if he was never given the position due to his size. Part of him wanted to ask for an autograph, but he also knew that would likely get him weird looks. "Oi, Großer Kerl. Das Team ist hier." His commander's voice startled him just as much as the words. König swallowed and nodded. He stood up and quickly fussed over his appearance before following. He let the other soldiers he'd be working with walk in front of him. He envied them, their confidence. Slightly baffled they could walk toward such impressive people without feeling the need to overthink how they'd present. It was one thing when König didn't care about their opinion, or when he was walking toward enemies. He'd strut forward with his shoulders rolled back and his chin high, gaze stern and sharp as the blade on his belt. But wanting people to like you, new people no less? He'd had easier times handling battles than that. It didn't get easier when they were in view. He towered over all of them, hiding wasn't much of an option, although his veil helped. König noted all of them individually as his commander spoke with Captain Price. Ghost certainly was intimidating, Gaz & Soap seemed more approachable, not to take away from their capable abilities however. Then his eyes fell on the last member, feeling his chest clench, making his hands do the same at his sides. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he'd heard of Hotshot's illustrious reputation. Still, he wasn't expecting them to be so...beautiful. They stood confidently with a laid back smile, some left over war paint smudged under their eyes, black gloves over their hands. König had so much to say and it all piled up in the back of his throat. He'd gotten so lost in staring at them that he'd completely missed everyone introducing themselves to each other, hence why he flinched violently when he was addressed directly. Suddenly, someone he viewed so highly was stood in front of him, craning their neck to make eye contact. "You alright there, big man?" They asked with a smile. König let out a string of stammered noises. They rose an eyebrow with a head tilt as the man mentally scolded himself, trying hard to actually say a word, anything! "You're pretty." He said suddenly with a voice crack. Instantly, shame and regret waved over his body. Hotshot blinked a few times in surprise. "I-I-I'm so sorry, I didn't-" "I like you." They pointed with a grin again, much wider than before. König deadpanned, eyes wide and stunned quiet. He watched them extend a hand. "Look forward to workin' with you, Romeo." They teased lightly. König hesitated, but very carefully shook their hand with a nod.

König held his breath before pulling the trigger on his USR rifle. The bullet soared through the air and through the paper of the target, leaving a fresh hole in the figure's skull. He exhaled and smiled to himself under his sniper veil, taking notes on what he had done right, what he could do better. As he went to grab his pen and jot it all done, he flung it in surprise when clapping sounded behind him. He nearly broke his neck whipping his head around, pulse stuttering when he viewed Hotshot leaned on the wall. Or, Y/N, as they'd said to call them. Though König had yet to break the habit of calling them Lieutenant. He blushed heavily as they smiled at him, pushing off the wall. "Nice shot, big guy. Right between the eyes." They complimented, letting out a whistle as they gazed at the target. He swallowed a lump in his throat, hands growing clammy in his gloves. He hadn't known them very long, admittedly, although their reputation preceded them. It had been a little less than a month since he'd first been introduced, in that time, he'd grown to find them charming. Too charming for him to handle. "Remind me again why they won't give you a proper sniper position again?" They asked as he leaned back on his knees. Konig cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. "My size." He mumbled, a bit bitterly. Hotshot clicked their tongue both sympathetically and in annoyance. "Yeah, I'd imagine being that tall has it's drawbacks. Seems to have advantages too though. Still, I think you're a great shot. Little awkward on your form though." They explained. Konig glanced up at them with a small head tilt, silently hoping they'd elaborate. They smiled and crouched beside him, suddenly reminding him just how much bigger he was. "Get back in position, I'll show ya." They smiled. Konig nodded and did as told. He wasn't necessarily an obedient soldier, but he always listened to what they said. He'd been so worried about how they perceived him, stepping out of line brought too much anxiety. He wanted them to like him. He adjusted his hold on the gun, resuming the position he was in before they came in. "See, you're firing well, but is this a position you could hold for an hour?" They asked. "Nien, my back starts to hurt." He admitted. Hotshot nodded and snapped their fingers. "Exactly. Here, I can already tell your problem." He glanced at them before his breath caught in his throat, feeling their hand gently placed on his leg. Positioning it a bit more outwards, bending at the knee. Through thick cargo pants and a set of gloves, their palm felt like fire through fabric, singeing his skin. His hands twitched nervously when they moved up by his shoulders. "Now, instead of holding your head like that, try this instead." Their voice was soft, quiet. König felt his pulse in his extremities when their hand found his jaw underneath his make-shift sniper hood, tilting his head as they wished. "There ya go, big guy. Now, try firing like that." The nickname suddenly felt like fire to his senses, and he had to clench his jaw to bite back an unmanly sound. He did his best to hold the gun steady, aiming once more, ignoring the proximity of his superior. He fired, unable to focus on where the bullet landed. He could still somehow feel the ghost of their hands on his person. He flinched when they clapped twice. "Another headshot! Good job, mate. Keep at it and you'll be better than me soon." They smiled brightly. Konig blinked up at them, nodding carefully. The lieutenant hadn't missed the widening of his pupils. "I'll let you get back to it. Come get me if you want more tips." They patted his shoulder, taking careful note of his near-silent shudder. Perfect.

(TW; War typical violence, blood lusty König) The man heaved, feeling ice in his veins, bright red blood darkening the fabric of his gear. He counted the bodies around him, ten in total, none of them moving. He scanned the area around him as he continue moving, looking for more targets, knowing if he didn't have one in his sights, someone had him in theirs. His fist clenched around the handle of his blade when his radio crackled. Static mixed with a voice, one frantic, one familiar. Past his adrenaline rushed brain he heard the panicked call of his friendly sniper, one who'd recently called him a friend. Long legs broke into a sprint, operating off his most basic instincts, the most animalistic portions of his mind. He made it to their position with, to him, felt like seconds. He didn't process the information around him before his body was moving, quick as light and as brutal as iron spikes. Suddenly, his body count that day went from thirty to thirty four. A loud crack and a heavy thump of a limp body hitting the floor was the last thing her heard before the blood rushing in his ears started to settle. He turned to look over his shoulder, seeing Y/N coughing, grasping at their neck. He went over to them in three large strides, kneeling down in front of them. "Mein Freund, geht es Ihnen gut?" He asked, voice heavy with breath and a bit shaky. They coughed again with a nod. "I'm alright, I'm good. Thank you." He listened to the rasp out their answer. As things grew quiet again, König realized just how intense he'd been. One glance at the bodies behind him showed the true nature many often were unaware of. He was a violent, terrifying force when in war. Typically, he didn't care. He'd grown to stop caring after so much of his life was met with judgment or rejection. But he liked this person, therefore, their approval mattered to him, and now his anxiety began to rise. They'd fear him, avoid him now, surely. "König." Their voice snapped him forward again. "Can you get this mic off? It's hard to breathe with it..." They muttered, motioning to the throat mic tightly secured around their neck. It caught him by surprise. He'd just snapped a neck without hesitation not even five minutes prior, and yet they were asking for his help still. He swallowed and nodded. The winced and tilted their head back, allowing access to their bruised esophagus. König tried not to tremble as his fingers clumsily when to loosen and undo the mic. His hand was dangerous, blood still stained his gloves as he grazed their skin with the fabric. His chest felt ready to burst as he heard them sigh in relief when the pressure let go, easing some of the sting of the irritation. It was red, soon to be a deep purple when the bruises truly formed. It looked painful. König's fingers shook as he absentmindedly trailed the line dented in their skin. "I'm okay." Their voice made him jump again, bringing his eyes back to theirs. They smiled at him, already exhausted from the day of battle. König blinked and nodded slowly. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, like he'd been burned, feeling his skin lit aflame. "Let us finish so you can get to evac." He muttered, standing up, allowing them to use his deadly hand to hoist themselves up with him.

"God it is so pretty here!" Y/N declared as they looked around at König's hometown. Graz, Austria. König smiled behind his black medical mask as he watched them look around in awe, feeling pride bubble in his chest as they walked to his home. Since he'd joined the military, he'd gone home alone. It was lonely, yes, though he always made sure to visit his grandmother when he'd come back from missions. His apartment always felt too quiet, too empty. He liked his alone time but often times he found the solitude suffocating. Everyone he knew on his team didn't really have this problem, either being fine on their own, with friends to visit, or family to return to. That was until the hotshot sniper admitted a very similar situation to himself. He saw how their face fell when they mentioned it, and despite his fear of rejection, he took a leap and offered a plane ticket. It surprised and delighted him when they jumped at the opportunity. He was proud that they enjoyed his country so far, even if he was nervous about their opinion of his home. Not that he could avoid it, however, given they were already at his door. König unlocked the door and stepped in, immediately removing his shoes. They mimicked his movements and carefully set their boots off to the side. He took a second to note how small theirs were in comparison to his. They took a gander around his home. It wasn't much, a simply decorated place with some mild dust built up from how long he was gone. When they giggled quietly, his stomach twisted, wondering what it could mean. "Uhm, welcome to mein home. Do...do you like it?" He asked nervously. "You decorate like a grandma." They answered, turning with a big grin on their face. An old quilt was folded on the couch and on the wall their were crocheted works of art in wooden frames. "It's so cozy, it's really cute." Their compliment made him relax. He motioned for them to sit, which they did gladly. He was quick to make them tea, some for himself to calm his nerves. There was a silence that settled over them when he finally came to sit beside them, comfortable for them, anxious for him. They spared a glance at him staring at his tea cup, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. "Aren't you gonna take off your mask? So you can drink it?" Y/N asked. König blinked, his breath catching in his throat. "...Nein." He muttered, setting the cup on the table in front of them. Y/N frowned. "Why? It's just me..." They said in a hushed tone. "You," He swallowed. "You will not like my face." He said softly, squeezing his hands together. They sighed and put their own cup down, standing up. König's eyes followed them and his face went red as they bent, placing their hands on his knees, looking him intently in the eye. "That is bullshit, big guy. I like you way more than you think I do. And I promise your face is not gonna change that." They said intensely. König blinked at them before he looked at his lap again. He inhaled deeply through his nose before he bit down on his tongue. Like ripping off a bandaid, he wanted to get the pain of their rejection off as fast as possible, so he tore off the mask, keeping his eyes scrunched shut. Some beats of silence left his heart palpitating. Then he felt warm palms carefully cradle his cheeks, forcing a gasp out of him. König blinked and looked at them, up, for once. Y/N's gaze trailed over his features, fingers lightly trailing over faint freckles to a scar across the bold bridge of his nose, down to the his oldest scar that ran from his right sinus to his chapped lips. A smile grew over their face as they took in his visage. "I knew it. You're one pretty man, Romeo." They purred quietly. The man's eyes widened before his breathing stopped, eyes fluttering as they pressed a gentle kiss to his nose. "Du bringst mich noch ins Grab…" He shivered. They chuckled and pecked his forehead. "Don't even think about it mister, you're staying alive for as long as I need for you to love yourself as much as I love you."

✧Alex Keller✧

Alex was a seasoned soldier. He'd constantly perceived through the unthinkable, cut it close with death more times than he could count. Shot, stabbed, kidnapped twice, inhaled complex chemicals, and managed to escape with his life after he detonated a bomb. Missing a leg, but alive. Maybe he was lucky, maybe it was the opposite. Either way, anyone who had the nerve to imply Alex as anything but impressive and strong was a fool, completely. The blond was someone any general would take pride in. So what on earth could take out a man with such an amazing track record? The flu. The answer was the flu. Alex practically never got sick, but when his fellow soldiers began to notice his less than fantastic state, it was hard to deny. Pale, clammy, a headache from hell. He couldn't do drills as well because his joints were sore and the coughing wasn't ideal. He managed to brush off concerns up until he threw up in the communal trashcan in mess hall. Finally, Alex's commander dragged him to the medbay. "Just sit down, Keller. Fucks sake." Julia grumbled as she set him on a bed. "I'm tellin' ya, I just need some NyQuil and I'll be fine-" Alex was cut off by harsh coughing fit that made the woman cringe. "With all due respect, Keller, you sound like you deep throated a cactus. Just let the medic look at'cha. We just got a new one, they're lovely, you'll be in good hands." She promised, making him sighed and rub his face, putting some pressure on his eyes, hoping it'd help the pain behind them. Alex hummed as he heard Julia greet a new voice. He dropped his hands in his lap and blinked, looking over at the new medic, not wanting to be rude. He couldn't tell if the warmth in his face was just the fever anymore though, not when he got a good look at them. They approached and set a clipboard down, standing in front of him, putting on some gloves as they smiled. Julia motioned to him. "This is Alex Keller, Keller, our medic, Plaster." She said. Alex rose an eyebrow and looked at them, watching them laugh. "It's my callsign. Brits call band aids, plasters." They explained. "And they'll fix all your cracks." Julia snorted, making the medic roll their eyes. Plaster grabbed a thermometer and put a cover on it. "Alrighty, Alex, just put this under your tongue. Don't want a soldier with such an impressive resume to be out of commission for too long." Alex blinked slowly as the plastic rested under his tongue. His brain was essentially mush, and the pretty face in front of him wasn't helping. "Heard o' meh?" He slurred tiredly, making them snort. "I have! Not everyday a man willingly blows up a building full of gas, much less live through it. Man of steel, eh?" They asked. Alex motioned to his leg. "Knee down." He replied, smiling when they laughed, taking out the thermometer. "Oh boy, 100.8. You, sir, should've been here much sooner. I'll get you some antibiotics and some NyQuil." Plaster said as they shined a light in his eyes. Alex lazily opened his mouth so they could check the back of his throat, heart thumping harshly as they carefully held his jaw, clicking their tongue sympathetically. "Poor thing, your throat looks pretty bad." He hummed. He gazed up at them as they carefully put a stethoscope to his chest. "Pulse sounds a bit quick." They mumbled. "'s your fault." Alex replied. Julia's jaw dropped open as Plaster tilted their head with a little chuckle. "Oh is it now? Well I'm sorry, sir." They replied. "Mm-mm, not complainin'." Alex shrugged. Plaster shook their head and wrote his prescription down, handing it to him before turning to Julia. "Make sure he stays in bed. And get some rest, casanova." They patted his leg. Alex gave a weak salute as Julia dragged him away, not paying attention to how she poked fun at him. "You're gonna feel so embarrassed when you can think straight." Alex shrugged as he stumbled beside his commander. "I dunno, I think they liked me." He said proudly. Julia rolled her eyes.

Getting a leg blown off was an extremely painful endeavor, obviously. Alex had a whole half of a limb blasted off at the knee, then he had to have it heal, then there were months of getting used to having his limb missing. And even after growing used to having his leg amputated, the pain was far from done. Excluding ghost pains, there was always some painful soreness left after using his leg all day. After some time, there was a level of pain that he considered normal, and therefore powered through. But there were other times where it was agony. It reminded him of the darker fairy tales he’d been told by his great grandmother. Like the Little Mermaid, how every step was agony, rather than the sparkly version Disney gave. He still tried to tough it out, but it really felt like hell. Leading him to limp to the medic’s area, hoping to hide from his bosses for a bit and perhaps ask for something for the pain. He winced as the pain became sharp, sitting on a cot in the quiet medbay. He sighed as he heard footsteps coming his way. He glanced up and saw their medic, the one that cared for him when he had the flu. “Mr.Keller, what brings you her- oh you look bad, what’s going on?” Their joyful tone quickly turned to worry as they approached him. He sighed and motioned to his leg. Quickly, the nodded and wrote something down. “Give me a moment. If it’s alright with you, I’d like you to remove your leg and compression sock.” They said. He did as told. There was both pain and relief when the heavy metal was pulled away. He set it beside him and tried to place pressure on his thigh. Plaster came back with some ICYHOT and a cold wrap. “Can I put my hands on you?” They asked softly. Alex rose an eyebrow, smiling when they rolled their eyes playfully. “Not like that.” They scolded, though they weren't truly upset. Alex chuckled and nodded, rub his his face. They put some gloves on and some of the Icyhot. Their hands were delicate as they carefully applied pressure to the muscle of his amputated limb. He winced and sighed in repeat as it both soothed and ached. All the while, they gentle cooed and comforted him through the pain. By the time the frigid compress was wrapped around his leg, he was exhausted. Alex went to stand, hobble his way back to his room, only for a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked up at them, being met with a gentle smile and a light push. He listened and laid back, though confused. “I think you should rest for a bit.” They explained softly, patting his chest. “And…you’d rather me do it here than my room?” He asked with a teasing grin, watching them laugh under their breath. “Come on, casanova. Give a lonely medic some company, would you?” They asked. Their tone made his chest tighten and his cheeks hurt from smiling. “Sure thing, doc.”

Alex sighed after taking a large gulp of beer from a pint glass, looking around the bar he'd popped into. Usually, bar outings were for celebration after a mission, this time though, he came alone. He wasn't there to mope or feel bad about himself, he just didn't want the loud commotion of his entire team. He was an extrovert, yes, but sometimes the company he wanted was more quiet, less straining. He looked at the foam residue in his glass, zoning out to whatever music was playing over the speakers. Some new-age country song if he had to guess. "Well, hello stranger." A voice near him made him flinch and raise his head, feeling butterflies erupt at the sight of his favorite medic. He grinned and turned to them a bit. "Plaster, hey, what're you doing here?" He asked. They waved their hand and came to sit beside him in the booth, not really minding the close proximity. "None of that callsign nonsense, Keller. You know my name, you can use it off base." They replied, setting a tequila sunrise on the table. The man hummed, the warmness in his cheeks now not only the alcohol. "Well, Y/N, what brings you here?" He asked. "A drink and the curiosity of American bars. The stories were right, it is filthy here." They commented, making him laugh and nod. "Well, so is all of America really." He hummed. They rose an eyebrow at that, though the held their question as he took another swig of beer, only taking a quick second to glance at the way his Adam's apple moved. "Coming from a man with an American flag on his arm, I hear you give your country quite a lot of shit." The medic rested their chin in their hand, eyeing him curiously as he glanced at his tattoo. "It's burning for a reason. I love my country but...I also don't. I...I love the idea of America, what it was supposed to be. What it is? Not so much." He admitted slowly. Y/N frowned as they watched his face fall. They could take a million guesses on what made him feel that way, he'd probably answer with an 'all of the above'. Instead, they reached over and patted his leg with a kind smile. "Well, there are plenty of places I can think of that would take an American, if you're able to handle the jokes on your accent." They said softly. Alex's throat tightened at the kind hand resting over his jean-clad thigh. It wasn't sexual by any means, but it still made his skin grow goosebumps. "Yeah? Would you be willing to take in this one legged stray?" He asked with a teasing tone. Y/N chuckled, but they nodded as well. "I'm sure I could take care of you real well." They whispered softly, barely audible over the commotion of bar life. Alex swallowed and suddenly the pressure on his leg became a little more dangerous. But the last thing he wanted as to pull away. Instead, he let out a breathy laugh, one a bit shaky. "Don't make a promise you can't keep, doc. I'm always getting into trouble." He replied. They tilted their head, an innocent motion with a layer of mischief. "I'll get you out of it." They replied. He knew they'd both go back to the base that night, that nothing would happen, given the sensibility of not making rash decisions with alcohol present. But, despite not even being buzzed, he already had his plan to play up a hang over, just so he'd have an excuse in the morning. Knowing full well they'd see right through him.

Alex was a hardened soldier. He'd been shot, stabbed, nearly blown up, inhaled toxic chemicals, and he'd had his leg blown off. Withstanding it all and still alive, still breathing and, at least somewhat, functioning. But there were days when the air filling his lungs felt monotonous and the lack of sound felt like death. Usually on nights where he was on leave. The first night was always the same, with him so exhausted he'd pass out and wouldn't have the ability to overthink. The longer he was alone, the worse it got, until his mind started to shot off thoughts he didn't really want to indulge. Counting the times he'd cheated death, the amount of lives he might've saved with better hindsight, whether or not there was another side, would it be as quiet as his home? He had friends, people he knew cared for him, but none of those dynamics felt right for voicing this part of himself. The deeper, more frightening bits. Or, well, he didn't have that before. In a moment of weakness, as he felt the weight of his life and its debatable worth rest too potently on his ribs, he grabbed his phone and hit a contact, a colleague. His work always spilled into his life, he didn't see why it had to stop with them. Guilt ate at him when they answered, hearing their tired tone reminding him of how late it was. But they didn't complain, they didn't scold or scoff. Their voice remained sweet, so worried for him, so caring. It aided all the more in having him cave, having him ask for a lifeline. It was raining cats & dogs and yet they only took twenty minutes to be at his door. He was still in his sleepwear, a pair of basketball shorts and a grey tank-top he'd had for a near decade. His leg was off, using his crutch, albeit begrudgingly. No words were shared as he watched them remove their shoes, water dripping off their coat as they hung it on the rack. This would've been the first time they'd actually be in his home, but he wasn't particularly concerned with their opinion of his awful décor choices. Y/N turned and looked at him with worry in their gaze. Again, silently, they took the hand that wasn't supported on the crutch and carefully pulled him to the couch. "Bad night?" They finally spoke, sitting down beside him. Alex nodded and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, I dunno why I called-" They cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to them with exhaustion in his face. Y/N sighed sadly, raising their hand to hold his face gently in their palm. He melted into it immediately. There was something supernaturally soothing of human warmth, something real, something alive. "You trust me, starboy?" They asked quietly, thunder rumbling in the sky as he nodded. He mourned the loss of their hand as they situated a throw pillow on the end of the couch, moving to lay down with their back slightly elevated by the arm of the furniture. He watched them look back at him, then, with open arms, they beckoned him. It was a step too intimate for coworkers, bordering past friends, and he didn't care. He practically tossed his mobility aid away and slid over. Their chest became his pillow as he slotted between them and the back of the couch, feeling them grab the folded blanket he always left out, draping it over him. He let out a shaky sigh when their nails met his scalp. "Easy, casanova. Let me take care of you." They whispered. Alex let out a huff-like laugh. "You got it, doc..."

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #call of duty x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #konig x reader #cod konig #alex keller #alex keller x reader #cod x gn reader #fluff

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yourlocaldilemma · 9 months

Text

Golden thoughts (ln4)

______________________________________________ Lando Norris x fem!sprinter!reader

word count: 1.7k

part: 1/? part one, part 2, part three, part four

warnings: not too much, alcohol consumption/intoxication, badly translated French, mention of STI,

a/n: Sooo, here’s my first fic. It’s just a short set-the-scene sorta thing but I’m going to see (hopefully) about turning it into a small series. Don’t really have high hopes for it and I’m still getting in the swing of writing so it’s probably not going to be great but fuck it kinda mentality here. Feedback is much appreciated:)

You were friends with the Leclerc brothers. Of course you were aware of that.

You were aware of what they did for a living, and all the guys who also did it with them. You had always been an F1 fan, but to you they had always just been Charles and Arthur.

Growing up neighbours and family friends in Monaco meant you saw a side of the Leclerc brothers that no one else did.

You watched and supported them as they rose up and they did the same for your sprinting career, but there was always an unspoken agreement.

The agreement was simple; you kept the work part of your lives separated. When you spent time together, it was as the kids who became friends all those years ago, never as the athletes you had all become.

Arthur nor Charles invited you to races, introduced you to friends from the track or mentioned your name in public in a attempt to keep your relationship the way it had always been, and you did the same, avoiding the F1 world completely. This of course, included not becoming friends with other drivers.

And definitely not dating them.

So when you walked down the sprawling staircase of your hotel to find Arthur, Charles, Carlos, and Lando seated in the lobby, you thought you were free to slip by them unbothered.

Somehow you had all ended up in the same city for the week, your championship Track meet and their race set miraculously on the same dates. Until now though, you had thought you wouldn’t even see them.

Dressed in black nike shorts and a matching sports bra with an oversized zip up slung on, you were headed to the track. In your opinion, the best way to get over jet lag was to get in a solid warm-up and good few sprints.

This is why when Arthur calls your name and waves you over, it takes you a second to process you’re actually the one he’s talking to.

Your face must have confusion written all over it when you walk over because when Charles makes eye contact with you he chuckles before talking.

“I know it’s not usually how we do things, but I figured we could maybe change it up tonight? We’ve been friends for longer then I can remember and you haven’t even met Carlos yet.”

Slowly you nod, still processing why the brothers would so blatantly uncover the friendship you’ve all so carefully protected. After a second of soul searching, you decide to take the change as a positive.

“You get 5 minutes. I was heading to the track.”

Arthur snorts. “Oh vraiment ? Quelle surprise” “oh really? What a surprise there.”

Rolling your eyes, you motion for him to scoot over. Arthur grins at you before making room on the couch.

“Well, Carlos, Lando, this is Y/N. Y/N, Lando and Carlos.”

Lando grins, “Where’ve you been hiding her mate?”

Charles smacks him on the back of his head and he whimpers like it actually hurt, sending Charles and Carlos into fits of laughter .

They boys seem nice enough, but you’re not sure how to handle yourself in front of them. You don’t want to embarrass yourself or the Leclercs, but also don’t want to treat them like mere drivers instead of people.

You pick up the glass of water beside you that’s sweating cold beads of water.

“So what do you do?” A Spanish accent breaks the silence.

You don’t hesitate to answer the question the same you you have been since you got sick of it years ago. “I wrestle dinosaurs”

Your sarcasm is met only with raised brows instead of laughter. Lando is the only one to smirk into his drink before looking up at you, smiling through thick lashes.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive.

They all were, with strong necks, veiny hands and sharp jawlines, but something was different about Lando. His bright eyes, bouncy curls and curving smile gave off an attractive boyish charm, but his broad shoulders, biceps and muscled stomach couldn’t be described as anything but hot.

You realize too late that you’ve been looking at him for a second longer then you should’ve as everyone shifts awkwardly. Arthur bumps your arm, giving you a pointed look laced with… jealousy? before continuing to nurse his bottle of beer.

As conversation starts again, Lando leans across the table between you and slyly whispers “it’s okay, I’ve been checking you out too.”

You feel blood rise in your cheeks and glare at him as he leans back into his seat, shooting a cheeky grin at you before resuming his chat with Carlos.

You really couldn’t decide whether you thought he was hot, cute, or annoying, before deciding that he was all three combined. He kept a steady stream of cute but sassy comments and couldn’t seem to respond to anything that happened in a relatively regular fashion.

It didn’t help that he announced everything was on him, meaning you would be dealing with at least one hammered Monegasque later that night.

Your “five minutes” turned into ten turned into twenty before you gave up on the idea of getting to the track. You found yourself enjoying the easy conversation and sense of comfort that always washed over you when you were with the Leclercs.

The topic flowed between pets, the looming threat of rain and random facts of favourite colours and foods before most of them guys reach their third or fourth drink. The volume and pointlessness of the conversation increased drastically as everyone passes from being tipsy into being quite drunk.

You and lando, who also didn’t have any alcohol, stayed quiet as stories are exchanged that could get everyone in serious trouble with PR officers.

“Hey Y/N, if you found out you would die at midnight, what would you do tonight?” The words come out of Charles mouth with a lilt as he giggles.

“What would you do Charles?”

It’s easy to dodge the question seeing as everyone is almost pass out drunk, but Lando narrows his eyes at you like you were hiding something by not answering the question. You roll your eyes at him and turn away just in time to hear Charles say “I would text every single guy on the grid from a anonymous number and tell them their partner tested positive for an STI.” Carlos’ jaw drops, lando chokes on his water, Arthur giggles and Charles cackles like he just made the best joke in the world.

When Arthur’s eyelids start dropping and putting together sentences is no longer within his capabilities, you decide it’s time for him to go.

“Thanks for the great time tonight, but I think this boy is going to have to call it.”

Carlos and Charles, not quite as hammered as the younger boy, look your way.

“My brother has dug himself quite a grave hasn’t he?” Charles giggles and leans into Carlos, “we should probably leave too.”

The Spaniard nods and looks pointedly at Lando, who sighs before muttering something about driving them. The 3 boys stand up, stretch and leave with drunken waves in your direction.

“Come on bub, let’s stand up.” Using the nickname from your childhood, you tug lightly on Arthur’s arm, willing him to follow you. He sways on his feet, grounding himself with a hand on your shoulder that moves to cup your chin.

“Tu es très belle Y/N.” “you are very beautiful”

You can smell the alcohol on his breath and see exactly how flushed his cheeks are.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you lead Arthur to his car. You’ve done this enough to know that when the flirting begins and the English is gone, you have max 15 minutes until he passes out.

The ding of the hotel elevator makes Arthur cover his ears and groan. He’s relying heavily on you to stay upright and it takes much longer then it should to drag him down the hall to his room, fish the keycard out of a pocket and get him lying on his bed.

He blacks out the second you turn off the lights and you shut the door as quietly as you can, content knowing he has fresh water, a bucket, and his phone beside him.

“Jesus Lando, oh my god!” The smiling Brit stands silently across from you like he was straight out of some messed up horror scene.

“Did Carlos and Charles make it ok?”

He nods to the room next to Arthur’s, “They’re in there and they’re fine. Charles is a puker but Carlos isn’t that drunk and they like taking care of each other.”

You sense from the way he says it that there’s more to unpack there but decide to leave it for another time.

“How adorable.”

Lando says nothing so you move past him and start heading towards the elevator. When you turn back, he’s still there, waiting at the door.

“Do you make a habit of listening outside your friends hotel rooms or- ?” You give him a questioning smile.

“It’s my room too. I just- “ he sighs. “I really hate being around drunk people. I mean they’re my friends and all but being the only sober one in a room full of incoherent people makes me feel so gross. Bad memories and stuff. I don’t know.“

He blushes and looks around uncomfortably.

You soften when you hear the tone of his voice and how awkward he looks talking about it. Before you can think about it, words are leaving your mouth that you never thought would.

“You could come to my place if you want.”

You say it like you offer things like that all the time, instead of the truth, which would be that you never invite people to your room, not even friends. You spend a lot of time alone, enjoying your own presence more than you should, and hating the feeling of relying on other people.

Being alone a lot and having that be enough made your life a lot easier.

Landos blush deepens and you meets your eyes shyly. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” He smiles at you, showing all his teeth. You didn’t even dare to admit that it makes you feel warm inside. “Thank you. Y/N”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #part 2?#lando norris blurb

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frissy · 1 year

Text

Earth42! Miles Morales x fem!spider/1610!Reader

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

ATSV SPOILERS

• possessive Miles

• mentions of death

• Some OOC 42 Miles

• You and Earth 1610 Miles are not in a romantic relationship

• Jealous Earth 42 Miles

• Not proofread!!

• Google translate is used in Part 1-3, forgive me for mistakes, and let me know of said mistakes

Your eyes slowly opened. And you were in someone’s bed. The room was cold, and very dull.

On the wall you noticed there was board of photos. family photos, but most of the photos, were photos of you. You, with someone who looked just like Miles.

Through the crack of the door, you could see Miles. Your Miles unconscious, tied to a punching bag.

But then you heard heavy footsteps. And someone came into the room, wearing a sort of suit. It looked like the prowler’s.

”You’re awake.” The voice was distorted.

You looked at the figure, he was shrouded in darkness. He came closer. “Please. Let us go.. we have to save someone.”

The figure shook his head. And his mask came off, with a hissing sound. That’s when you saw his face.

“[name]...” He said, he sounded so gentle. Like your name was a melody to him.

You had fear in your eyes, mixed with confusion. He seemed to take notice of this, because next, he introduced himself.

“I’m Miles Morales. But you can call me the prowler, niña bonita.” he walked into the light, his face becoming more visible. “What? There’s no way. You would never be the prowler!” You looked at him, shocked and confused.

Hues of red and purple shined onto his face. Highlighting his hazel eyes. He looked different from your Miles. He even sounded different.

His hair was braided, and his physique was completely different from the Miles you knew. His face was sharper, and his voice was deeper and he kept a narrow gaze. “You’re Miles, wouldn’t.” He pointed to your Miles through the crack of the door. “But I would. And I did.”

Your eyes then darted through the crack of the door to your Miles. You were about to shout out to him so he could wake up.

but you were stopped by the other Miles. He put a hand under your chin, making you face him. “It’s no use to help him. [name]..” he started to caress your cheek.

“Please. Let us go. We just want to go home. We have to save… my Miles’s dad. I’m sorry if I was special to you... but please. Let me and Miles go.” You said, pleadingly.

His face contorted into anger, and jealousy. “He.. he as his Dad too?” He took his hand off your face. And his blood began to boil. He clenched his fists, making his knuckles turn white.

“We have to save him! He’s gonna die and we have to stop it! Please.. please let us go.”You looked deep into his eyes, trying to get through to him.

He furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Why should I.. why should I let you go when I finally have you back?” He put a hand to your cheek again, caressing it. “How come he gets to have so much?” There was jealousy laced in his voice. “…His Dad, a safe city.. and you. How come he gets it all? When I get nothing. And all that has happened… could’ve been avoided.”

“I’m really sorry. I’m sure you, and the me in this universe had a tight bond. I’m sure we were close friends as I am with my Miles.”

He scoffed. “Friends? [name]. You were my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened. And a very faint blush crept onto your face.

“I loved you more than anything. I loved you more than life itself. You meant everything to me. I watched you die, and I watched my dad die with you. I watched you to die live on the news.. a building fell on top of you, my dad tried to save you but it was too late.” His voice was shaky now.

“I—“ he wouldn’t let you finish.

“You were the only girl I’ve ever loved… And you were taken from me.” He leaned in closer.

“You can’t even begin to understand how I felt, seeing you appear out of nowhere, with a boy who looks just like me.”

He got even closer.

“A lookalike from an entirely universe who has you? A living you? And you want me to just, let you go? Just like that? When I finally have you back?.” he trailed off, taking his hand off your face, backing away.

He smiled at you. “You look just as beautiful as you did the day I lost you querida. I never thought I would see your face again.”

He looked at your unconscious Miles through the crack of the open door, his face became a deadpan as he looked back over at you.

“I’m not going to lose you again. And nobody is going to take you away from me. Especially that copy of me.”

He brought his attention back over at your unconscious Miles, hatred and resentment in his heart. For what felt like hours, he looked back at you once more.

“And you can’t do anything to stop me.” He turned his back to you, walking out the door, locking it from the outside, you tried getting up, but you fell to the floor.

He had tied your wrists and ankles while you were unconscious. And you haven’t even noticed when you woke up.

You were stuck here, and he’s not going to let you go. .

TO BE CONTINUED

#across the spiderverse #earth 42 #miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #angst #tw death #oneshot #loss of a loved one #prowler miles #prowler #earth 1610 #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderverse spoilers #possesive love #jealousy #atsv #spiderverse #spiderman #miles morales 42

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sunflowhamato · 4 months

Text

𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊: 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝑵𝒐𝒏-𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒑 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝑵𝒊𝒏𝒋𝒂 𝑻𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝑺𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒊 𝑹𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒕. 𝑨𝒏 𝑨𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎, 𝑼𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.

My first language is not English, use a translator, so if there are mistakes, I apologize. Most of the analysis was translated by

All credits to her.

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As I began watching Rottmnt, I was surprised by several aspects, most notably the widespread belief within the fandom that Leo was gay and in a relationship with Usagi. This rumor piqued my interest and became one of the main reasons for following the series.

I eagerly awaited the "chapter" where Usagi would make her appearance, anticipating to understand the basis of this relationship. Like many other viewers, I was shocked to discover that Usagi does not actually appear in the series, leaving me baffled.

Although this revelation was disappointing to find that there is no interaction between the two characters, my curiosity was intensified.

I asked myself: How did this shipp come about and why is it so popular? Despite my initial bewilderment, I found myself without answers as to the origin of the shipp. Although I can speculate, I believe a deeper context is required to understand its emergence.

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-🅲🅾🅽🆃🅴🆇🆃 🅻🅴🅾🆂🅰🅶🅸-

In 1984, the Ninja Turtles, created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, achieved great success in the world of comics. In the same year, Stan Sakai began publishing Usagi Yojimbo, a series following the adventures of the samurai rabbit Miyamoto Usagi in Feudal Japan.

The friendship between Stan and Laird led to a crossover between the two series in 1987. Since then, Usagi has appeared in various Ninja Turtles-related media. In these crossovers, Leo and Usagi develop a close relationship, being considered better than the other two. friends on some occasions, depending on the version. This bond led to the emergence of a "shipp" between the two characters, becoming one of the most prominent non-canonical Ninja Turtles shipps.

Although they have had encounters in the comics and in the 1980s series, the 2003 series delved more deeply into the interaction between Leo and Usagi, showcasing several significant moments that strengthened their connection. The 2012 series did not explore this relationship as much, as it focused more on Usagi.

With the premiere of ROTTMNT, the series received mixed reviews, and drew attention to Leo's attitude, leading some people to speculate about his membership in the LGBT community.

In 2022, "Samurai Rabbit," which follows the story of Yuichi Usagi, a descendant of Usagi Miyamoto, was released on April 28, ending on April 1 in September of the same year. A few months earlier, on August 5, "Rottmnt: The Movie" was released. I couldn't find out exactly who came up with the idea of joining the two characters from different series, but it had a significant impact on the fandom of both. Thus was born the "Leoichi" marking a major shift in fan perception.

The Leosagi is widely recognized as the shipp involving Leonardo and Usagi Miyamoto. On the other hand, the Leoichi is completely different, and many gave it a unique name to avoid confusion.

To clarify, Usagi Miyamoto is not Yuichi Usagi. In this thread, I will focus exclusively on Yuichi and Leo.Since the characters have no official interaction, I will focus on my personal experience and share how I discovered this shipp.

I will quote some stories, comics or illustrations from talented artists, and from there, I will start my analysis to try to explain why this shipp is so popular and appreciated.

🅼🆈 🅵🅸🆁🆂🆃 🆁🅴🅰🅳🅸🅽🅶

I began my immersion in shipp content by reading stories, and one in particular caught my attention due to its popularity and the positive feedback it was receiving. I opted to start with "When Worlds Collide" by the talented celestiangel, fortunately already completed, which allowed me to read it in one sitting. From this story, I will take a few points related to shipp. However, I would not recommend reading this story at the beginning of your shipp exploration, not because it is bad, quite the contrary, but because it can generate confusion. In my experience, I read it before watching "Samurai Rabbit" and was quite confused, although that was my mistake. It is simply a small recommendation for those who are just starting to know this shipp.

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I will give a mini analysis of this beautiful story, so if you haven't read it yet, I recommend skipping this part, as I will give spoilers for the ending.

"Set in the first season, Yuichi is tasked with romancing Leo to get information about the dark armor for Draxum, but falls genuinely in love with him, generating conflict and pain between the two."

"When Worlds Collide" (WWC) stands out by addressing aspects that many other stories do not explore, especially as it relates to Yuichi's altering of history. Although its narrative differs from "Samurai Rabbit," the character remains the same, maintaining his prankster and rebellious nature.

The story dives into deep themes, focusing mainly on self-love and forgiveness. Yuichi is the central focus of the plot, allowing readers to delve into his thoughts. Although at first he seems disinterested in Leo, the story subtly reveals that Yuichi is deceiving himself and the viewer. This aspect requires a second reading to be fully understood.

I was surprised to discover at the end that Yuichi accepts his feelings, despite expressing his distaste for the situation in earlier chapters. The way you approach the subject of self-love is admirable. Leo's acceptance of Yuichi marks a subtle change in his personality. Unconsciously, Yuichi teaches Leo his true nature.

They both show affection without expecting anything in return, being a key driver for Yuichi to change and make the decision to risk his life for the person most important to him. The story culminates with a beautiful lesson about forgiveness. Although Leo does not immediately forgive Yuichi due to the pain of betrayal, he gives him a second chance.

Yuichi, now accepting himself, is determined to rebuild Leo's trust. The story highlights self-love, as Leo prioritizes his well-being before granting forgiveness, while Yuichi accepts himself and is willing to start over without making similar mistakes.

From here I will take several aspects to analyze, starting with

🆃🅷🅴 🅵🅸🆁🆂🆃 🅼🅴🅴🆃🅸🅽🅶

In the context of the fanfic, a detail to highlight is that, both characters feel attracted in the first meeting, or in the first chapters (like a love at first sight), the way this meeting is portrayed in the story does not feel forced in any of the two parts.

While it may sound cliché, the narrative manages to make it fit naturally, reflecting the idea that love doesn't always need concrete reasons to emerge; it just happens.

The concept of "good chemistry" also ties in with the above. From the very first moment, there is a palpable connection between the two characters, regardless of the plot. Even considering a more "canonical" approach, the chemistry between Yuichi and Leo, according to my perspective would be very similar to how the fandom describes it.

The similarity and difference between the two characters are exceptionally balanced, reflecting the essence of lasting relationships. The presence of this chemistry is a charming element that resonates with viewers when two characters manage to connect convincingly.

🆂🅸🅼🅸🅻🅰🆁🅸🆃🅸🅴🆂 🅰🅽🅳 🅳🅸🅵🅵🅴🆁🅴🅽🅲🅴🆂

Sharing similar interests and characteristics can lay the groundwork for establishing any kind of relationship. Both Yuichi and Leo share several affinities, such as their love for the sword as a weapon, their fascination with comic books, a strong belief in their abilities that could be interpreted as a certain degree of egocentrism, leadership roles in their respective teams.

Both characters experience arcs in which they learn to accept responsibility and improve as warriors. They also share moments of madness, showing that they would follow each other's example. In addition to their awkwardness and a certain antisocial tendency, evidenced in their difficulty to make a good first impression.

One more detail in common is that blue is their favorite color. Despite these similarities, having absolutely everything in common could prove difficult, as a relationship also involves both parties showing how they see the world differently.

Leo could introduce Yuichi to innovative aspects such as technology, skyscrapers and the vibrant life in New York, as well as sharing his love of pizza and keeping up with fashion trends. On the other hand, Yuichi could teach the importance of constant training, knowledge of one's own history (especially in relation to Yokai), and provide perspectives from someone who lived on a farm.

He could also share the beauty of life in the countryside, such as the ability to see the stars. Both characters would become reciprocal teachers, showing their respective worldviews and learning from each other.

🆂🆄🅿🅿🅾🆁🆃🅸🅽🅶 🅲🆁🅰🆉🅸🅽🅴🆂🆂 🅰🅽🅳 🅳🆁🅴🅰🅼🆂

In all the stories, comics, or whatever medium I've explored, I've noticed canonical events that always occur in one way or another.

One of them is that Yuichi always laughs at Leo's jokes, no matter how terrible they are or if no one else finds them funny. He manages to get a genuine smile out of Yuichi, even playing along on several occasions.

The acceptance and support for each other's follies comes across as genuinely charming. Another canonical event is that they both support each other's goals.

They have full knowledge of each other's capabilities and never judge, but rather take pride in each other. Leo can hear Yuichi's goal of becoming the best samurai, and confirms his admiration through multiple compliments of his skills.

In turn, Yuichi is aware of Leo's skills and is always willing to listen to him and give him a little push for any problem he may face.

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Although there are several stories in which Yuichi becomes Leo's emotional support, there is one crucial aspect in all of them: Yuichi simply listens to problems without judgment or opinion.

This approach reflects the realization that, as one grows older, one realizes that sometimes people just need to be heard to vent their problems. Therefore, it is preferable to offer advice only when it is requested. The aspect is handled effectively in several stories, where if Leo doesn't ask Yuichi for an opinion, the latter simply listens.

Both characters shoulder problems together, but this does not imply that the other will automatically solve the partner's problem. Rather, they provide a little mutual boost, as they both know what they are capable of and fully trust themselves and each other.

Loving someone and learning to face problems together involves not only trusting in oneself, but also in the other's ability to be supportive.

-🅲🆁🅸🆂🅸🆂-

Most fanfics address Leo’s PTSD, some in detail and others more generally. IMO, I couldn’t say if they portrayed it correctly or not, but the inclusion of details and respect for these moments and tensions, they make them feel authentic and moving.

In these situations, usually one of the brothers or Yuichi provides precise support, which is relevant and can resonate with anyone who has faced similar situations. It is particularly notable that the support that Yuichi offers, although Leo also offers the support.

Yuichi never leaves Leo alone and is willing to help him through these difficult times as many times as necessary. This representation highlights how, when you love someone, you learn to cope with the conflicts and problems you may face.

Yuichi's unconditional support adds a layer of authenticity to the narratives and reinforces the idea that true love involves being present and supporting the person you love during difficult times.

-🅻🅾🆅🅴 🅿🅰🆂🆃, 🅿🆁🅴🆂🅴🅽🆃 🅰🅽🅳 🅵🆄🆃🆄🆁🅴-

I've read several stories where Yuichi loses his family during the Kraang Invasion, or this "mistake" on Leo's part is addressed. The interesting thing is that, although a conflict may be anticipated, none of the characters take the blame. nor does he recriminate the errors of the other.

This reflects the idea that one should not judge without first knowing the full story. When you love someone, you do so with all of their past, as well as the possibilities that the future holds for them. The Leoichi becomes a great representation of this, since none of the characters are judged for their mistakes.

They accept each other and love not only who they are in the present moment, but also help and support each other in their personal growth. They are anxious about the future ahead, recognizing that the past experiences are an integral part of the person you love. This approach shows how love involves accepting the loved person in their entirety, with all their imperfections and mistakes, and supporting their evolution and future development.

And I feel that a great example of this is one of the fanfics that best portrays Samurai Rabbit. So In Love And Yet Nothing To Talk About by rosesofenvy

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“Leo wants to find his soul mate and is willing to throw himself (and his siblings) headlong into a new mission to achieve it.”

The story in particular handles the relationship between Yuichi and Leo exceptionally well. HE takes into account the story of "Samurai Rabbit" and incorporates its characters in a more meaningful way. This fanfic stands out as one of the few that actually considers Yuichi's story, elevating it to a broader level and giving it considerable relevance.

Both protagonists go through problems related to the respective invasions they experienced at the time. If you are new to consuming content from the shipp, I would definitely recommend this fanfic as your first choice to read. Helps to better understand the history of both characters, and the theme of soulmates, which is something new in the universe of both series, will surely awaken your curiosity until the end.

The well-developed plot and careful integration of elements from both stories make it a great read. enriquecedora para aquellos que buscan sumergirse en este shipp.

-🆃🅷🅴 🅿🆄🆁🅸🆃🆈 🅾🅵 🅻🅾🆅🅴-

One part that captured my attention and only made me fall more in love with the shipp was the extraordinarily sweet way the relationship between the characters develops.

People often associate love solely with kisses, but this fanfic stands out. that love can manifest itself in various ways and does not have to be rushed to work. Both characters act clumsily when falling in love, which makes sense since they are not experts on the subject.

In several fanfics I have noticed that, although they both fall in love in the First chapters, they take their time to express their feelings. There may be moments where they show their affection for each other, such as when Leo taps Yuichi's head or when Yuichi moves his ears.

This representation of pure and innocent first love is important and tender. Since they're teenagers, there's no need to rush things, and this is one of the main reasons I love this shipp. The content addresses this aspect without becoming cloying, allowing you to enjoy consuming the content and become attached to it. with both characters in a unique way.

It is also notable that in some stories, they can take until the end to kiss, highlighting the idea that everything has its proper time. Although it is clear that there is content intended for a more mature audience, it is less frequent.

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As I mentioned, being teenagers, it is logical that many of the actions of both characters in the shipping content are childish and clumsy, which is adorable. It's like reliving first love, where we do crazy things for the other person.

This is a recurring element in each type of content, whether it is a story or a comic (although there are exceptions). We will always see Leo trying to tell a joke to make Yuichi smile, or Yuichi trying to demonstrate his skills as a samurai. Overall, the Leoichi relationship begins innocently and sincerely.

Both characters learn along the way what it means to love someone, which contributes to creating a charming and touching atmosphere. The clumsiness and innocence that characterize his actions faithfully reflect the experience of first love. making the connection between both characters more authentic and endearing.

-🅲🅰🅽🅾🅽🅸🅲🅰🅻 🅴🆅🅴🅽🆃🆂-

It is interesting to note that in many shipp stories there are recurring events that we could call "canonical events", as if they were characteristic elements that are repeated as a game.

Some notable examples include: Choosing a Picnic as a setting for a date or meeting is common in many shipp stories. It is common for the characters to meet in "Run of the Mill", and in several of these stories, Yuichi works in said place. Although there are few exceptions, in most stories, Leo is portrayed as the first to fall in love. In some plots, one of the brothers becomes overprotective regarding the relationship between Leo and Yuichi. It is common for both characters to be the last to realize the attraction they feel for each other. Although in a way curiously, on many occasions, it is Yuichi who suffers the most, and may even die in some plots. Events involving joint training or a fight between Leo and Yuichi are recurring in these stories.

The follies of both characters often result in some kind of disaster or comical situation. These recurring elements could be considered part of the "formula" that defines the dynamics of the relationship between Leo and Yuichi in the ship, offering readers a recognizable set of situations and events that they contribute to the charm and familiarity of these stories.

-🅻🅶🅱🆃 🆁🅴🅿🆁🅴🆂🅴🅽🆃🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽-

The topic of inclusion has gained relevance in recent years, and in Rise, diverse representation is evident, with Leo being the main focus and universally considered part of the LGBT community.

Labelling the characters or questioning whether the Representation is adequate may seem unnecessary, since each person is free to decide or change their preferences over time. While some stories deal with serious and realistic topics in exceptional ways, others may focus on engaging the audience without going in depth. in these aspects. What I highlight in the Rise universe is that it does not seem to focus on demonstrating the sexuality of each character.

Everyone is free to decide their preferences, and these do not seem to generate conflicts. Whether April is lesbian or Splinter is bisexual, the story does not create dramas around these elections. It is crucial to normalize these terms without the need to question each individual's attractions, recognizing that tastes can change over time. Works such as Sakura Card Captor or The Owl House address this topic in a way that conveys the message that "love is simply that, love." Be yourself without the need for labels.

The Leoichi has stories that touch on this topic respectfully, providing interesting information. Although it is not the central focus, when it is addressed, it is done in a way precise and accurate. It is an LGBT ship that manages to captivate without depending exclusively on being a representation of the community, showing the diversity of relationships in a natural and authentic way.

-🆁🅴🅲🅸🅿🆁🅾🅲🅰🅻 🅻🅾🆅🅴 🆆🅸🆃🅷🅾🆄🆃 🅴🆇🆃🆁🅰 🅳🆁🅰🅼🅰-

The Leoichi stands out for its balance of love, respect and empathy between Leo and Yuichi, showing a healthy and authentic relationship. When we explore love stories, elements of drama are often included, such as the recurring love triangle.

Fortunately, the Leoichi avoids this cliché. Although there are stories that address the topic, they focus on it from the beginning. Instead of falling into typical clichés, the Leoichi adopts different approaches, such as family overprotection, distance or conflicts related to the villain's plot. Overall, Leoichi avoids common clichés that could be considered unnecessary.

-🅰🅽🅰🅻🆈🆂🅸🆂 🅾🅵 🆃🅷🅴 🅽🅾🆃-🆂🅾-🆂🅴🅲🆁🅴🆃 🆂🅴🅲🆁🅴🆃 🆂🅰🅽🆃🅰-

IMAGE

BESIDE LEO IMAGE TEXT: it is my moment. mine of me To all the assholes who underestimated me, you will see romantic Leo

BESIDE USAGI IMAGE TEXT: You're not going to believe who touched me in Secret Santa. I knew I was God's favorite.

“Where Usagi gets to be Leo's secret santa and vice versa. “Both boys believe this is the perfect opportunity to declare themselves.”

Are you a person who looks for new and innovative things to tell a story?

This story offers an innovative narrative by following the events leading up to Yuichi and Leo's declaration. The unique way tweets and conventional storytelling structure are intertwined is captivating. Unlike many narratives, it shows that it is not necessary to address sad or deep themes to create an attractive story.

The plot focuses on the relationship between Leo and Yuichi, exploring their own thought worlds and their connection with friends. What is notable is that the story is not limited to Leo's perspective, as is usually the norm, but also considers Yuichi, providing a more complete view.

The plot unfolds in an understandable way, and manages to get several laughs on multiple occasions, which is evident by the positive reaction of readers, even those who do not fluent in Spanish have made efforts to understand it, highlighting its significant impact. In short, I don't think I have to explain why I would recommend this story (It's great).

Offers a distracting experience that brings smiles, uniquely exploring both characters, as well as others, maintaining the reader's interest and leaving the feeling of wanting to continue reading more.

-🅰🅽🅰🅻🆈🆂🅸🆂 🅾🅵 🆃🅷🅴 🅲🅾🅼🅸🅲 🅱🅸🅶 🅼🅰🅼🅰'🆂 🅲🅷🅸🅻🅳!-

“A ROTTMNT and Samurai Rabbit AU mainly inspired by Tangled, where Leo is separated from his family and becomes Big Mama's son”

The enveloping plot of this story is fascinating, although it is inspired by "Tangled", it manages to infuse it with your own touch of originality.

The mysteries surrounding the characters, especially the relationship with the past between Leo and Big Mom, keep the reader intrigued. At the same time, Yuichi is not marginalized, since he contributes with his own story, adding layers of mystery surrounding the Hamato and exploring the intriguing topic of Jei.

Unlike the base story, this story broadens its horizons by touching on topics just as serious as the film, such as the separation of the brothers, the representation of Big Mama as a fearsome villain, the Yuichi's connection to the Hamato, as well as the stories of his friends and the world where they live. The plot also addresses the theme of death, adding complexity and depth to the narrative.

Characters' unique reaction to challenges contributes to the uniqueness of history. The way the plot unfolds and envelops the reader is impressive, and the fact that the story is told not only through narrative, but also visually, with beautiful drawings and a fluid rhythm, adds a significant plus. Details like the colours, clothing and surroundings combine to create a fascinating and captivating experience.

-🅵🅰🅽🅳🅾🅼-

Leoichi content, created by the passionate fandom, stands out for its support and positivity. As an upcoming artist, entering this space is an incredible experience, with notable support for content creators. The connection between stories and art is palpable, with artists expressing their appreciation through visual creations inspired by the plots.

This appreciative environment towards writers, cartoonists and other artists is unique and rewarding. The community has made a significant impact, and being a part of it is a source of pride, since the Leoichi, although small compared to what the entire TMNT fandom encompasses, reflects the constant support for creative projects, providing an unmatched feeling of support.

-🆁🅴🅿🆁🅴🆂🅴🅽🆃🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 🅾🅵 🆈🆄🅸🅲🅷🅸-

It is disappointing to see problems in the representation of Yuichi in various media, and it is essential to advocate for change. The lack of knowledge and understanding about this character highlights the need for further investigation.

Yuichi is a character notable with a fascinating story, which is told in Samurai Rabbit, and deserves fair and accurate representation. Advocating for a deeper understanding of characters and their stories is key to overcoming these challenges.

-🅾🆃🅷🅴🆁 🆂🅷🅸🅿🅿🆂-

It's notable how many Shipps exist in the fandom like the "Donsagi", and I personally enjoy this type of content. It brings freshness and generates interesting stories with new concepts, earning my full support as a multishipper. It is common for them to raise diverse ships in fandoms, and respecting each person's preferences is essential. If someone does not share the preference for the Leoichi or other ships, that is their right, but it is crucial to avoid negative comments towards those who support it. As long as you don't follow tcest or any sick shipp, there won't be any problem (Don't support this type of content, seriously- Sunflower) (I also do not support this content. -Tiny)

-🆁🅴🅲🅾🅼🅼🅴🅽🅳🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽🆂-

Although I haven't explored everything in the Leoichi, I would like to recommend a few stories that I think stand out and could be ideal if you are discovering this Shipp or already know it. These recommendations are only a small sample, since the complete list would be extensive.

-StarBlind by WeirdNCrazy: It is one of my favorites, although it is not over yet, it really manages to make me scream at several moments, and although its focus is not entirely Leoichi, it is a very interesting Alternate Universe story that I recommend

“Leo has been blind since he was mutated by Draxum when he was a baby turtle. Although the plot remains similar to the series, it develops in a unique way due to this circumstance. Additionally, more complexity is added with the arrival of Yuichi and his friends.”

-Midnight Blue by TugboatExpress: Although it is a One-Shot, it really portrays the dynamic in a unique way for both characters, having tense, sweet and funny moments. I laughed a lot at this story and each character has their moment to shine, which only makes it more special. It has a second part, which is also one of my favourites.

“Leo faces death in a hostile dimension, but the next minute he finds someone special. “This is the life of Hamato Leonardo.”

-It's Worse to be Nothing With You by CheddarCat20: The dynamic between siblings, the problem of long-distance relationships, and the theme of a band. This fanfic has many things that I love, and it cannot fail with the moments or complications that Yuichi and Leo face, it has a satisfactory ending, although it makes you want more of this AU.

“I read andHis brothers, the band Teenage Mutant Ninjas, seek help from Usagi Yuichi, a famous Japanese musician. “What starts as a business becomes something more meaningful for Leo.”

-Ghost of New York by jamisafan: This is one of the few fanfics that manages to perfectly detail the Yuichi's personality, Leo's subtle background plot that will be important, and their relationship from hate to love.

“Usagi had wanted to be a ghost hunter ever since she could remember, it was where she belonged. Finally, the aunt sends him on his first solo mission, where maybe I’ll make a friend along the way.”

Believe me when I tell you that I have more favourite stories, but I didn't want to go overboard with this thread. I will leave the links to the stories, and I will also leave the link of users who make content that I recommend from this Shipp (I must clarify that they are not all the ones I would recommend)

-🅻🅸🅽🅺🆂-

-When Worlds Collide-celestiangel:

-So In Love And Yet Nothing To Talk About-rosesofenvy:

-StarBlind-WeirdNCrazy:

-Midnight Blue-TugboatExpress:

-It's Worse to be Nothing With You-CheddarCat20:

-Ghost of New York-jamisafan:

- El santa secreto no tan secreto:

-Hitok´s (Big Mama's Child AU and Villain!Usagi AU comics artist):

-🅵🅸🅽🅰🅻 🅾🅿🅸🅽🅸🅾🅽-

What can I say?, I LOVE THESE TWO!, and I think this thread is proof of it. The Leoichi is one of my favorite Shipps, it really manages to hook you from the first moment, you can feel identified with any of the two involved, all the content that I have consumed and continue to consume is a gem for me and brightens my days, there are several reasons To love the ship, I love the whole story behind it and that precisely this analysis has come out only because of the content that the fandom has made (Which is admirable). I have to mention that I have not named as many recommendations as I would like, but if you are an artist or writer If you want to make yourself known, you can leave a comment in this thread (Here we support everyone <3).

Also with the analysis of this beautiful Ship, I considered the option of starting to analyse its content, really the analysis that I gave to When Worlds Collide is very little of what I have in my mind, and I would like to give it an appropriate analysis with every detail, going deeper into the theme it addresses, the character arcs, the final teaching, etc. I feel that it would be a good start, and in that way move forward to analyze other stories or comics.Many credits to the talented artists who made the illustrations I used in this thread <3

Without further ado, thank you for reading the thread, if you have anything to say regarding everything I have mentioned, you have your right, all with due respect wait for the analysis of When Worlds Collide soon <3

PD:It doesn't let me put links to some talented artists who make Shipp content, but I leave the link to my profile so you can see the thread (There are links to the artists)

#leo x usagi #rottmnt #rottmnt usagi #rottmnt leo #yuichi usagi #leosagi #leoichi #rise leo #fanfic #artists on tumblr #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #samurai rabbit #character analysis

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dnsbarbie · 3 months

Text

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (FOUR)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc X Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated French, degrading headline, people who don’t mind their own business

Note: There’s a reason I’m dragging the fuck out of this story. It’s gonna be worth it, I promise !!!!

❝Dear reader,

If it feels like a trap, you’re

already in one ❞

THE BRILLIANT ILLUMINATED ELEVATOR cradled through the rapidly infectious tension in Natalia’s bloodstream. The gap between her and the equally as anxious Monegasque caused the ongoing brawl in their heads to amplify. She glanced down at the carpeted flooring, casually shifting her gaze to the shuffling feet of her company.

She let her thoughts wonder somewhere else, opting to think about the disastrous path they had to conquer in order to acquire the tranquility they have at the moment. Although, her trembling hands and the intensive battering of her chest generated the thought that perhaps road raging in Charles’ Ferrari to avoid the prying eyes of the general public provided a greater deal of enjoyment than this.

“I was thinking,” Charles spoke, moistening his drought lips. “Since it’s your first time here in Netherlands, I’d like you to try authentic Dutch dishes from the restaurant the team took me to last year.”

Natalia nodded, half of her mind floating into a dreamless space. “That sound great,” She faced him, hoping to defy the rising tide of her anxiety. “I honestly didn’t know anything about Dutch culture until I did a quick research about their food.”

Charles didn’t contain his smile, finally looking at the brunette. His gaze journeyed to her luscious naturally straight chestnut locks, previously tied into a neat ponytail but was now released from the gathered style, falling graciously passed her shoulders.

He snapped back into his regular self as he reached the line of her eyes. Immediately saving himself as he followed up on her statement. “Oh? And what did you find?”

Charles despised the way she’d tuck her bottom lip in her every time she needed a second to gather her thoughts. Couldn’t she just think like a normal person?

“Apparently, there’s this food called Profferjes?” She struggled pronouncing the supposed name given to the delicacy she was referring to.

Charles’ face brightened in amusement at her confused appearance but he nevertheless, nodded, having an idea of what she was talking about.

“The mini pancakes?”

Rhapsody laved across her once perplexed expression, pointing a finger at his direction before confirming his guess.

“Yes! That one— but I think they only serve them in the morning,” She sighed, eyes lingering at Charles. A sudden concept bubbled in her mind, showing in her face as a small simper.

The judgement was also beginning to bloom on Charles’ face as he took note of the naught sparkle in Natalia’s orbs.

“Unless— you know—” She drawled her words, making the smile on the receiver of her antics widen. “Charles Leclerc were to call in—”

He disintegrated into a pile of frenzy at that. Clutching his stomach as his laughter, joined in by Natalia’s own, bounced uncontrollably against the four walls of the enclosed space.

“I’m not sure they’d do their beloved Max Verstappen’s rival a favor.” He acknowledged.

“Oh—right.” Natalia had completely forgotten that Max was Dutch. She knew Charles meant it as a joke but the harsh reality seemed to have overtaken its intended merits.

Then again, she was quick to dispel the impending depressive state. “You know, according to my research, Dutch people are very friendly even if they like speak their mind . . .”

An appreciative hum sounded at the back of Charles’ throat, thankful for her efforts of comfort and the ding of the elevator that indicated their arrival to his floor.

In an unconscious move, he reached for Natalia’s hand, grasping it gently in his. To which the latter responded by gawking at him while they both stalked through the nicely lit corridor.

Charles’ room was two doors away from the very last one, and when they arrived, he tapped in his key card, never seeming to have the intention of releasing the chilling palm that rested in his hold.

As the door opened, along with the grating creak of the door was the heightening of Natalia’s senses. The fresh scent of lavender infiltrated the previous musing scouring at her wits.

She inhaled the saving grace of her sanity, finding the soothing aroma also matched the overall aesthetic of his room.

The fuzzy brown carpet at the center of the room adorned the flooring, to which an oval glass coffee table was placed

“Sit wherever you want,” He said, freeing her hand. “Make yourself feel comfortable.”

As he started to walk away, Natalia bent down balancing her weight with her hand on the doorframe as she untied the laces of her boots.

Charles turned to her, hearing the sudden rustling. “You don’t have to take your shoes off,”

She immediately halted her actions, eyebrows wrinkled at the absurdity of all that. “There’s no way I’m stepping my shoes on a carpet,”

The crease in her eyebrows worsen at that thought of her mother. She could almost see the utter disgust on her face when she finds out Europeans don’t particularly care for what she called “unknown bacteria” spreading through their home.

She set her boots aside, plopping on the pearl colored seating. “My mom would’ve strangled you if she heard you say that,”

Her remark made Charles chuckle, shaking his head on his way to the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Depends.” She thought, reaching for a magazine on the coffee table. “What are you having?”

Natalia heard a series of cabinet creaking followed by clinks of what she assumed was glass.

“Well, of you’re craving something sweet, I have orange juice and iced tea,” He replied, peaking his head on the doorframe.

Charles took in the sight of Natalia’s wandering eyes on his apartment, ignoring the sudden pang of nervousness creeping up on him.

The curious girl whipped her head towards his waiting figure, lips pursing with a uncaring shrug. “I’m good with that. But if you want to drink something. . . stronger, I wouldn’t judge.”

She watched the chuckle bloom out of Charles’ relaxed features, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

While he was arranging beverages, Natalia reviewed what he had observed from his apartment.

Firstly, she found it surprising that he owned a living space in this country. Him always hopping on a jet to different countries every week, defeats the purpose of buying one. It didn’t look like he used it often either.

It had one of those minimal modern designs. Like the ones she’d see whenever she was at Summit Furniture, a furniture store she frequented at in Monaco. She currently sat on a white polyester loveseat with tapered rosewood legs that angled outwards. It all seemed like they’ve just been bought yesterday. No scratches on the wooden legs nor flaws in the fabric seating. Same goes for the rest of his furniture that she had seen so far.

The television looked like it had yet to serve its purpose and the tables be marked with any stain or evidences of usage.

Her deep observation caused a barricading and tension within her sense. The unbelievable tidiness and perfection of her surroundings made her more conscious of her actions.

“Here we are!” Charles’ unforeseen appearance rattled her core, prompting her to sit up straighter. He had brought a tray of various drinks.

Natalia eyed the colorful liquids in different types of glasses. Some in one in a high ball, champagne and cocktail glass. Beside those were a bottle of Heineken and Jenever.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trapping the laughter threatening to pull through, settling for a supportive nod.

“I’m guessing this is the orange juice?” She plucked the high ball glass from the tray, a teasing smile adorning her face.

“Yes, it is,” Charles took out his phone, the unwavering nerves still present in his veins. “I know I said I’ll order for you, but here’s the menu, you might see something you like—”

She raised his hands, shaking her head. “Trust me, the only food I’m sure are gonna be are Stroopwafel and those ball shaped snack I ate at the paddock. Besides, I’m not picky with food, I’ll swallow anything you give me.”

Charles’ thumbs stopped their typing, his lips thinning at the intrusive thought in his head.

Anything, huh?

“You’re disgusting—”

“I didn’t say—”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to! It’s written all over your face!” Natalia growled, motioning to the idiotic smirk hanging of his face across her.

“Think what you want,” Charles chimed, resuming his attention to his device. “That’s what I’m doing anyway hmpf—”

A soft object suddenly collided at his face, laughing as he realized that Natalia had thrown a pillow at him.

He removes it from obstructing his view, glancing up at the glowering figure in front of him, now bringing her lips close to the tall glass of juice.

“Give the phone. . .” She said, extending her arm forwards for Charles to pass her the device.

He hands it to her, inclining his body towards her. “I personally love Hachee, it’s meat with mash potatoes and gravy—”

“Frog legs!”

Charles stopped talking, staring stupidly at her exclamation. A wide smile plastered on her face as she turned the phone towards him and pointed to the certain dish.

“You eat frogs?” Charles didn’t mean for it to sound condescending, but the overpowering shock at this discovery halted all sense of thinking.

“Yeah? And?” At her defensive tone, Charles quickly held his hands up, waving them at her.

“No! That’s not what I mean!” He scratched the back of his head, hoping to ward away the embarrassment of his mistake. “I-I just mean, you’re the first girl I’ve met who’s actually excited to eating frogs,”

Natalia raised an eyebrow at Charles. “That can’t be true, frogs are eaten a lot in Manaco,”

“Doesn’t mean everybody likes them,” Charles remarked, taking the bottle opener from the table before twisting it on a Heineken beer.

Natalia watched him take a sip, crossing her arms at his statement. “You mean to say— of all the Monegasque girls you’ve dated— not a single one ate frogs?”

Charles felt amusement trickling at his through as he spotted the doubt on her face. “Well, I did let them try it.” He restored. “But they either pretended to like it or just straight up told me, quite frankly that they’d rather eat dirt.”

Natalia lights up at that, bringing her hands together in an mirthful clap. “At least some were honest about it,”

Charles nodded, glancing up at her as he began to wonder wether or not he should consume more alcohol to gain the courage to ask her questions that may be deemed too personal. Threading lightly on the subject, he reached for the Daquiri, giving in to its undeniable seductive calling.

“Is it a common food in the Philippines?” He asked, eyes traveling to the curvature of her expression.

Natalia’s lips disconnected from the cold glass rim, licking away the numbness spreading through her mouth. “Not exactly all over the country, but in my province, we do eat it a lot,” A mirror of nostalgia passes by her eyes, slotting in the depths of her memories.

Charles observed as she spaced out, blankly staring at the wooden coffee table. Instead of snapping her out of her trans, he waited patiently for her to regain her train of thought.

Blinking rapidly, the fog of her brain slowly disappeared, a large intake of breath released from her lungs before she cleared her throat.

As she craned her neck back to the person she was talking to, her heart lurched at her throat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes were drowned in unbelievable intent, as if she’d disappear if he was to look away.

“Let’s play that game again,” He said, softly.

“What?”

“That game in the car. 20 questions,” He clarified, tilting his head at her, “I want to play it again.”

Dread filled her mind, mouth beginning to ache, along with the slight tremble of her voice. “Why?”

“We’re going to spend a lot of time together,” He pointed out. “I’ve know you for quite a while but I don’t know anything about you. . .”

“There’s nothing to know,” She huffed, eyebrows coming together in a pinch. “My life isn’t interesting in the slightest.”

Charles narrowed his eyes at her, careful not to overstep. “I’ll ask basic questions then,”

She scrunched her face up at him. “Like what?”

With his eyes on her, he shrugged. “How did you end up in Monaco?”

“That’s not—” She sighed, pulsing her palms into an alternating clench. Her hands came up to snatch the beer off the table, taking a large gulp of it.

This was not a good idea from the start but then again, she made no complaints about it either.

Setting the bottle down with a loud clank, she tuts at his waiting figure. “I applied for the scholarship grant, almost failed the final interview, found out I didn’t, and— lo and behold, I’m here.”

The vagueness of her answer made Charles roll his eyes. “You almost failed? Why?” He questioned.

Natalia frowned at him, wagging her finger up at his line of vision. “No—no, it’s my turn,”

Charles sighed, defeated, downing a shot of tequila as the former thought of her first question. “Who’s your favorite sibling?”

Taken aback, he smiled at her random choice of words. “I don’t have one,”

His answer was met by a judgmental glance. “Boo! Everybody has one. Come on!”

Hesitation reeled him in with the desire to end thos query immediately. So, with all the shame warped into a giant ball in his heart. Je all but murmured a name.

“Sorry, say that again?” He could practically feel the teasing smirk on her face as she neared her ear on his mouth.

His eyes fluttered close, amusement and annoyance dancing at his veins. “I said, Arthur—”

She laughed, finding his imminent torture to have soothe her pounding heart. “Don’t feel bad, it’s pretty obvious anyway,”

At that, Charles didn’t indulge in her usual provocative style. Instead, thwacking her back with another personal question.

“What do your parents to for a living?”

She coughed, the sharp taste of alcohol pricking at her throat as it violently drew back to her nose.

“Are you okay?” The concern etched visible at the lines of Charles’ face as he stood up to hand her a tissue. He sat next to her, plucking more out of the box as she attempted to stop the liquid pouring out from her nostrils.

She gratefully took the tissue from him, blowing her nose into it. She would’ve found it embarrassing as she heard the disgusting noise it made as she emptied her now stinging nose of the culprit if it weren’t for her spinning mind.

She wiped her jeans, trying to play it cool as she responded. “My parents— My mom was an accountant and my dad— he. . . used to trade oil.”

Charles peaked onto her face, wiping of the remnants of beer on her cheek. “What’s wrong with that?”

Natalia swallowed the painful block of her throat, hand coming up to where he had his on her face. “Nothing. . . I-it’s not their jobs. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask about my parents.”

“We—”

The loud ringing of a phone interrupted their conversation. Natalia felt the vibration in her bag before she realized it was hers.

This dispelled the heavy ambiance of the atmosphere, waking the occupants from their trance.

Oh shit, Natalia thought as she saw the caller’s name flash on her phone.

Nicolas Todt

As soon as she pressed the green button signifying her death, the device was gone, only to be taken by the tutting Monegasque beside her.

She immediate shuffled up, desperately trying to get the phone out of his grip. It was too late, however, as he stood up at the sound of his manager’s voice.

Deflating in defeat, Natalia hopelessly smothered her head on the soft cushion’s of the couch.

“Hello?”

“What are yo— Hello? Charles? Is that you?”

Natalia winced at the pure hostility in Nicolas’ tone. Even after figuring out that the taker of the call was indeed his well-loved client, it didn’t quell the scorching heat of his flaming outrage.

“Oui c'est moi. Quoi de neuf?” Yes, it’s me. What’s up?

In contrast to Charles’ collected attitude, Natalia could feel her insides churning slowly into a blob of mush. Her only wish was for Charles not to ruin this job for her was beggining to whither away with the his careless actions.

“Quoi de neuf?” What’s up? Nicolas echoed, his sharp scoff going through the phone’s speaker and stabbing Natalia directly in the deepest part of her chest.

“Vous n'avez pas vérifié votre téléphone?” He spat, as it were acid poured on his tongue.

At the word phone, Natalia’s head shot up from the condoling compressor of her resting place, panicking as she searched for her phone.

The cumulus fog accumulating her head, clouded the clarity of her thinking, making her forget that someone else had possessed the thing she was looking for.

Charles nodded along to the string of profanities Nicolas kept rambling through his ear, shifting her attention to the frightened girl on his couch. Her heightened vigilance evident as trembling her hands patted wildly along his furniture.

He aided her frantic movements with a soft brush of his hand on her cheek, tapping his thumb on her paled skin.

Natalia whipped her head around to face him, breathing out of sigh of relief as she followed his finger pointing to his phone.

Wasting no time, she snagged it off the table, nearly shoving it on Charles’ face when it demanded a passcode after failing the face recognition system.

Charles careened his head backwards to avoid the object barreling into his face.

Natalia waited, anxiously fiddling with the stitchings of her clothing, as the daunting atmosphere worsened every second that passed by.

She almost tore Charles’ entire arm from his body by the vast amount of force she exerted at him. Quickly tapping on Google app, her hands shook as they hovered over the keys, thoughts failing to conjure words she needed.

“Charles Leclerc girlfriend. . .” A whisper came next to her.

She gritted her teeth at the awful joke. Perhaps as knew it wasn’t an impossible headline. It dawned to her the severity of their offense as she typed his name on the search bar.

It appears that her groan of indignation was loud enough for Nicolas’ ears as Natalia heard his mocked version of it despite being on Charles’ space.

“Did you see it?” Nicolas queried, his tone unreadable.

Natalia turned the screen to Charles’ vision. And the idiot had the audacity to laugh.

Merely hacking into his balled fist, the presence of his teeth behind his lips irritated both Nicolas and Natalia.

In disgustingly big letters, the headline read:

Natalia swiped at the screen, ticking her brow in victory as the smile drained visibly off his face at what she had shown.

“Now, that’s not funny. . .”

You don’t say. . .” She gritted, padding a hand on her chest to feign shock.

Charles offered her an apologetic pat on the head of the sneering girl. The latter slapped his hand away, force firm but not enough to do any harm.

Natalia could hear the faint murmurs of Nicolas before his voice was amplified by Charles’ simple tap of the speaker phone.

“Listen, both of you,” He commended. “Gossip magazines aren’t exactly fond of what ever it is you’re doing.”

“I am so sorry—”

“You are not.” The dripping venom in his tone made Natalia flinch back, leaning away from the source of his voice as if he were to pop out of the screen. “I don’t know what you were both thinking but luckily social media loved your little rendezvous.”

Silence fell between the scolded individuals, eyes creeping up to see the other’s reaction. Like staring directly at a mirror, they alined body language that could only be read as confusion.

“So. . . That means?” Natalia trailed, leveling her vocals in light of steering clear of another possible volcanic eruption from Nicolas.

“It means. . .” Nicolas pressed, annoyance still present. “You have to continue your. . . what you call it?”

Natalia listen intently as Nicolas asked someone for the word he was searching for. “The what? Oh— yes that. . . Your situationship.”

“Ew no!” Natalia’s extreme protest was met with sheer bewilderment on Charles’ part, struggling to process the meaning of the foreign term.

“What is that? What’s a situationship?”

At his question, Natalia stirred back to him, giving him a look of disbelief. Nicolas on the other hand simply clicked his tongue, sighing brfore supplying the answer to his client.

“They’re two people who have no sense of direction regarding their relationship.” He explained, and though he cannot see the expression on Charles’ face, he knew very well what it was.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Natalia’s jaw slackened, palm slapping on his forehead. And although she knew Nicolas’ explanation of situationship was a fairly watered down version of the real deal, she didn’t have the strength to further Charles’ knowledge on the subject.

Nicolas ignored his question. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. I advise you to not step out of that building until daylight.”

Natalia’s eyes widened at that. “What? You want me to stay here?”

“Certainly.” He concluded.

Sensation drained completely from her body. The electric feeling of lacking blood, slowly spread in an infectious manner. With it, the chill of reality came to set in.

“I’ve already informed Toto of the situation.”

As if it wasn’t enough, after hearing that, the lavender scent of the atmosphere that was thought to have the a calming effect seemed impotent, in comparison to the vigorous hold this ghastly chain of anxiety had on her.

Of all the things she feared, the idea of disappointing Toto Wolff and Susie Wolff was an absolute nightmare. How could she face the people who gave her the opportunity of a life time if she were to do dim-witted things like this?

In the midst of her internal battle, her head stirred to the cause of her misbehavior. He just so happened to be looking at her as well.

Unlike the pointed glare she blatantly jabbed into his face, Charles offered her a worried glance that could bloom flowers on his pretty little head.

Despite her scornful demeanor, she couldn’t shake away the guilt of being in this position. She was aware that it wasn’t Charles’ fault alone but perhaps putting all the blame in him would ease her desire to simply jump on a boat and abandon everything she ever dreamed in her life.

Natalia recoiled at the sudden warmth on her arm. Look towards the source, she relaxed at the sight of Charles’ hand on her skin.

He had ended the call, sitting back down on his previous place. “How do you want to do this?”

Natalia heaved a heavy sigh, afraid that the force might collapse her lungs. “I honestly can’t think of anything else but being fired. . .”

Charles took her hand in a grip that he could only hope held the comfort he was trying to induce. “You won’t. I’m the reason you’re here. I’ll talk to them.”

“You better. . .” She huffed, shoving a strong palm at his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look my classmates in the eye when I have to go back to University, though.”

“When do you have to go back?” He asked.

“In three days. We have to submit a report every two weeks regarding our performance.” She expounded, thinking about the sour look on her headmaster’s face at the sight of his achingly popular student walking in her office.

“Well, in that case, you can say that you helped me increase my fanbase by 2% in just three weeks.” Charles tried to provide a consolation.

Natalia hummed, lips curling as she was reminded of that information. “You make it sound like I’m a one-man team. . .” She shook her head.

She was sure that Charles’ PR team wouldn’t appreciate her taking all the credit for the improvements in the Ferrari driver’s personal accounts.

“Probably not. But most of it was your idea.”

It was intended to aid the boisterous voices crowding the little space left in her brain that wasn’t consumed by the nauseating noise of failure but alas proved to be ineffective as she abruptly stood up and took her phone from Charles’ lap.

Tapping the number she knew would cover the gaping hole of fear continuously scraping at her brain.

She watched as her phone started ringing, the name of her partner in crime flashing on the screen.

Lissie

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #charlos #ferrari #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x y/n #landoscar #charles leclerc smut

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spicyllewyn · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 7. - Exhibitionism

Rydal Keener x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Exhibitionism + brat tammer. (+18)

Word count. 1.4k

Summary. You want to keep acting like a bitch? He'll treat you like one.

Kinktober masterlist.

It had been 20 minutes since you couldn't stand yourself. The heat of Greece was killing you; everything felt sticky, your hair had frizzed up after the long time you spent fixing it, and you undoubtedly despised Rydal.

Why? You didn't really have a reason; he was just the last person you wanted to see. Which was a bit silly considering that you were traveling together.

You had a complicated relationship, yes, but he was a good friend and an excellent tour guide.

Oh, and he was amazing in bed.

Maybe he didn't deserve it, but when bad mood struck, it was a lost battle for you and everyone around you. The best thing was to simply wait for time to pass until things relaxed on their own.

You had been walking for an hour, and he kept talking, talking, talking, never stopping. You just nodded or made sounds that translated as a 'Yes, I'm listening' kind of thing.

"And... the last step." This was a tradition of his; you celebrated reaching the end of the path, together and out of breath.

There were almost always kisses involved, and the way you turned your face to avoid him was enough to make Rydal lose the ounce of patience he had left with you. Still, he smiled; he always had everything under control.

"We made it. Bochali viewpoint."

The village looked beautiful from up there, and you couldn't deny that both the silence and having completed the journey did ease your furrowed brow a bit.

"Sit on the edge," he murmured in your ear, and you could only look up, confused by the sudden order.

"What? I don't think it's allowe..."

"Sit on the edge." His voice suddenly grew firmer, and his hand on your lower back gave you a little push that made you walk clumsily. You looked around to make sure that no one else could see you and obeyed. With your gaze ahead, you sat on the rocky ledge that protected the edge of the lookout.

You felt the uncomfortable pressure of the stones against your skin, your thighs exposed thanks to your choice of wearing a sundress that ensured you wouldn't pass out from the heat halfway. Rydal stood up behind you.

"You've been acting like a fucking bitch all day," he whispered in your ear, your cheeks turning a rosy cute tone almost instantly as his hands settled on your hips. "Open your legs."

You weren't far enough away; you could make out the figures of people in the distance, which undoubtedly meant that people could see you.

"Rydal, no, they can see us," you stammered quickly, his right hand sliding down one of your legs until he could give a tug, opening them just as he had asked.

You swallowed hard.

"If you want to behave like one, then I'll treat you like one." One of his hands remained on your thigh, his fingers gripping it to make you understand that you couldn't cover yourself. "We'll let everyone see how much of a bitch you are." He licked his lips before starting to kiss your neck softly.

Maybe that's what you needed to forget your bad mood.

You closed your eyes, and instinctively, your head tilted to the side, giving him more room in the area as his kisses turned into bites and hickies. You both had been there for three days, and you couldn't find any more space on your skin to add more marks.

Your underwear became damp in less time than you would have liked. His fingers teased your pussy lips above the fabric.

"Take off your panties," he whispered against your skin as he slowly slid said piece of fabric down your thighs. You obediently lifted your hips so he could expuse you completely, letting your underwear fall.

You always thought that if you left a souvenir on one of your trips with a guy, it would be one of those locks with both of your names on a cute bridge, not your panties caught in some bushes a few meters away.

You felt the breeze hit the humidity between your legs and a shiver ran through you from head to toe. His left hand held you still in place by your waist, his opposite hand began the work.

He slid his index and middle finger between your lips to wet them with your arousal, you trembled when they found your entrance, firmly inserting themselves inside you.

“Fuck, Rydal.” You stammered as your back pressed against his chest for balance.

“This was what you needed, wasn't it?” He took out his fingers and pushed them back into you with such speed and force that you were able to hear how the liquid coming out of you made his thrusts louder. “If only I had known this was enough to wipe that scowl off your pretty face.”

You nodded quickly with your eyes closed, your head falling onto the boy's shoulder.

“Put your legs up.”

“Rydal.”

“Put them up.” He growled and you obeyed awkwardly. You raised both legs onto the fence, bending them slightly so that you were completely exposed to the panorama. Surely more than one person had already seen you. “I want to show them how to treat a brat like you.”

With his fingers completely inside you, and he continued to push deeper. You felt him rub against that sweet spot inside you that made you whimper out loud.

Your slick wet the stones beneath you, you moved your hips slowly seeking more contact between your body and his hand. You thought you were about to lose your mind when his thumb pressed against your swollen clit, hungry for some attention.

“Look at you, sweetheart.” The hand that was kept on your waist crawled up little by little, cupping one of your tits. He squeezed with his fingers in that rough way that only Rydal knew. “Such a good girl.”

It didn't take long for him to slide his hand under the neckline of your dress to have better access to your breast, pinching your nipple until it hurt, you whimpered with your eyes closed. You were getting closer to your limit.

“Apologize.” Of course, Rydal already recognized perfectly when your body was about to reach it, he felt your walls squeeze his fingers while he increased the pace of his movements. “Come on, tell me you're sorry.”

“S-Sorry, Rydal, s-sorry.” You muttered in a breathy voice as you swore you heard your screams echoing across the landscape. You were close to begging for more.

“Louder, princess, I couldn't understand you.” Princess was his favorite nickname for when you were misbehaving. He always told you that you behaved like one, not exactly as a compliment.

"Sorry, sorry! M-More, please, please. R-Rydal!”

“Are you going to behave like that again?” His thumb played with your clit, giving it quick touches that made your entire body vibrate in place, suffering from small spasms.

When you didn't respond his fingers came out of you, he used them to gently slap your sensitive pussy. It throbbed around nothing and you could swear your eyes were filling with tears from your desperation to cum once and for all.

"Answer to me". One more slap brought out a pained moan from you, your body shaking.

"N-No." You shook your head quickly, your back arching slightly in place as a way to push your hips closer to his hands. “I-I won't, I…” You took a deep breath. You were choking in your own moans. "I promise".

"Good girl". Placing a small kiss on your shoulder he finally gave you what you wanted, his fingers inserting inside you again, his thumb pressing your clit and tracing circles that brought you to the end faster than you expected.

Your whole body tensed as you enjoyed the devastating orgasm, he nibbled on your neck roughly with the intention of leaving more marks on it. His opposite hand kept pinching your nipple on the left side.

His movements became slow as you relaxed, and after a few minutes he finally removed his fingers from inside you and brought them to your mouth, pushing them between your lips in an act that you accepted immediately. With your eyes closed and breathing hard you began to suck them clean, tasting yourself.

"Better?" He placed one last kiss on your cheek, but not before you turned towards him, your lips brushing against his as you felt him smile.

You nodded your head slowly, something almost imperceptible.

"Do you want to eat something?"

You nodded again, and he gave a small laugh.

“No wonder you were in such a bad mood.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter @poppyflower-22 @steven-grants-world @urmomsgays-world

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

This is my comeback lol not a fan of it but hopefully my brain will start braining

#rydal keener #the two faces of january #rydal x reader #rydal x y/n #rydal smut #rydal fanfic #rydal fanfiction #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x y/n #rydal keener x you #rydal x you #rydal keener smut #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader

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nervocat · 6 months

Note

hi, platonic jing yuan taking in a teen reader who is troubled/ has trust issues?

★ 📝 — notes: I'm sooo proud of how this turned out omgg. I hope you like this too anon :33

Strictly platonic too btw, if you couldn't tell

— word count: 549 , fandom: honkai: star rail , cw: none — ✦

“ Learning to Trust ”

Even though Jing Yuan willingly took you under his wing with no cost, you still had your suspicions about the General after your abandonment from your previous caretakers. You were around the same age as the 14 year old lieutenant, Yanqing, but even having someone around your age didn't help ease your nerves.

You were currently sharpening your sword when Jing Yuan came up to you, his usual smile on his face. You pause your sharpening and look up at him, eyes narrowing and brows furrowing as you sit up straighter.

“What do you want, General,” you say, voice laced with annoyance. Jing Yuan's smile never faltered as he sat down next to you, you inching away slightly to avoid contact with the man.

“I just wanted to come by and say hi,” he replies cooly, looking at you through his white, fluffy bangs. You huff, resuming the sharpening of your sword without answering or conversing with him further. Jing Yuan chuckles and ruffles your hair gently, leaving you frozen in your position and baffled, eyes wide and you stare ahead. “Always so cold, [name], it's curious, really,”

You blink a few times in confusion. “..Wha..??”

Jing Yuan was patient with you as you slowly warmed up to him overtime. It was a long process, but Jing Yuan waited for you, and so did Yanqing (though more from a distance, focusing on his own things).

Sparring with the General was common, Jing Yuan always coming out victorious. You were frustrated with always losing, to which he took notice of, and decided to gently confront you about it.

You were leaning against a wall as you stared at the ground when Jing Yuan found you. You hear his laugh and look up, face almost immediately hardening at the sight of him as you get up off the wall. “You just beat me in a spar, now what do you want?”

“I just wanted to talk, is that so wrong?”

“Very much so,” you grunt as you lean back on the wall, arms crossed as you stare away again. The silence continues before Jing Yuan says something that makes you feel odd.

“You're very strong, [name], mentally and physically,” he says with a smile. You think about what he says for a moment before looking up at him, face softened slightly.

“And.. what is the meaning behind your words?” Jing Yuan laughs, a finch landing on his shoulder.

“Nothing, I mean it with all my sincerity, [name], you are strong, and you have much potential in life,” he says, still smiling. “And never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

It was basic advice and comfort, really the bare minimum, but it let you lower your guard slightly.

“You.. really think so, Jing Yuan?” now the General was slightly shook. You called him by his name rather than ‘General’ like you normally do, but he smiles and nods.

“Of course, I have no reason to lie to you, [name]” he says as he looks into your eyes. Your face softens completely, looking away and you furrow your brows.

“Thank you, General,” you smile slightly, glad that said man couldn't see your face, but he knew. “It's much appreciated.”

Maybe you'll learn to trust Jing Yuan, but you've still got some way to go. ✧

🐾 ★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦ ✒

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writingquestionsanswered · 11 months

Text

Interested in Writing But Can't Seem to Write

Anonymous asked: I've been interested in writing since I was a child. Used to be a bookworm. Whole chapter books in one night, completely addicted as a form of escapism. My first real dream job was to be an author - I decided this at around 11 maybe. No matter how many phases I've had, I always return to wanting to be an author. I am 22 now. I have not written a single thing. I vaguely remember writing like, maybe 3 things at most. Incomplete works that I just had fun with. And this was before I even turned 14. But in all those years of "loving writing and books" and "wanting to be an author" I did straight up nothing. Didn't even contribute to fanfics for the fandoms I was deeply obsessed with (I do remember trying once but wasn't into it). At some point reading was out of my life too.

I'm going to start here, because of these conflicting statements:

-- "I have not written a single thing." -- "I vaguely remember writing like, maybe 3 things at most."

See the issue? ;) If you've written "maybe 3 things" you have written something. They may have been incomplete, and you may not even remember what you were, but that doesn't mean you should discount them. You have written. That experience is still in there somewhere.

One of my biggest pet peeves as a longtime writer is hearing newer writers refer to themselves as "aspiring writers." If you write, you're a writer. Period. It doesn't matter if you journal, write poetry, write fan-fiction, or wrote a middle-school round robin with friends where you all married your favorite K-Pop stars. You write. You're a writer. And, honestly, even if you're not actively writing right now, if you want to write--if you think about writing, are constantly jotting down story ideas and character names, and are eagerly gathering inspiration from all around you... guess what? You're still a writer.

Now I'm trying to take my interest in writing more seriously, but I just can't sit down and write. I'm good at storing notes and ideas and daydreaming what my stories are about, but nothing is ever produced. If I think about it I immediately lose interest - even if I am in fact still interested in writing and publishing? I'm very confused by my behaviour and I wonder if it's normal.

What you're experiencing isn't unusual. In fact, most writers experience it from time to time, though usually it happens at points further into the writing journey and not right at the start. But I still wouldn't call that "abnormal." It happens.

There are a hundred-million reasons why it happens, and the only way to figure out why it's happening for you right now is to do some soul-searching. At your age, I think a prime suspect would be that you're in the jumping off point for your adult life. This can be a tumultuous time for a variety of reasons, and your focus and energy may be naturally geared toward the things that help you explore and settle into this new phase of life. Even beyond that, if you have have a demanding job (including being a parent or caregiver), are going to school or studying for job-related tests/classes, or have a lot going on right now (multiple projects, lots of travel, lots of appointments and social commitments, etc.)--your focus and energy is probably running thin as it is, so finding a way to funnel what's left into writing is going to take some finesse. And that's if this is even the right time for it, which I'll get to later on.

Writing Stress = Writing Avoidance

One of the most mind-blowing things I've learned about writing is that writing avoidance often comes down to writing feeling stressful for whatever reason. If you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself to write, write a certain amount, meet goals or deadlines, that translates to stress. It makes writing stressful, and the problem with that is evolution has wired our brains to avoid things that are stressful. At its most basic level, stress is a response to danger--you hear a lion roar in the distance, it causes you stress, you turn and run in the opposite direction. Stress triggers the "fight or flight response," a defense mechanism that protects us from the impending danger. With writing, "fight" shows up as self-criticism. "Flight" shows up as avoidance.

So, if you find that you want to write but are avoiding it, it's worth considering if you're avoiding it because it feels stressful to you. If so, there are things you can do to de-stress writing. For one thing, let go of the notion that you have to write any particular thing or amount in order to be a writer. Set yourself a bare minimum writing goal to reach every day... like writing for 10 minutes. That can be any writing--journaling, writing prompts, working on a story, fleshing out story ideas, fluffy fan-fiction, poetry, writing down a favorite memory, doing a book or movie review, anything. Try to do it every day, but don't beat yourself up if you sit down and aren't able to write anything, don't write a lot, or never sit down at all. Just try, every day, do your best. Also, try setting up a writing routine that you do every day when you sit down for that little writing session. Try to pick the same or similar time each day, do a little meditation or stretch beforehand, put on some soft music or light a candle, get your favorite drink or small snack. If you do this almost every day, what you'll start to find is that the writing happens more and more easily. Eventually you'll be spend more and more time doing it.

Why can I say I'm interested in writing when I don't write at all?

I'm interested in traveling to England but I haven't yet and have no current plans to. Does that mean I'm not allowed to say I'm interested in traveling to England?

Being interested in something doesn't mean you have to do that thing right now or you can't say you're interested in it.

And even if you can't write right now for whatever reason, there are still plenty of writerly things you CAN do. Following writing blogs and vlogs is a good start. You can listen to writing podcasts and read writing craft books. You can keep a notebook full of plot and character ideas, setting inspiration, favorite quotes, interesting words, and overheard bits of dialogue. You can watch TV shows and movies (and read books, which includes listening to audiiobooks!) You don't even have to do these things all the time or everyday. Just periodically, when you can. It all goes into your creative well and will be there to draw from when you are able to write.

One final word...

You do not have to be in a hurry to be a writer or to be a published writer. The average age of first-time publication is mid-30s. I was mid-40s. Jane Austen was 35. Toni Morrison was 40. J.R.R. Tolkien was 45. Richard Adams was 52. Annie Proulx was 57. Laura Ingalls Wilder was 65. National Book Award winner Harriet Doerr was 74. Poet Sarah Yerkes started writing poetry at 97 and was published at 101.

So, be interested in writing. Own that interest. Figure out if and how writing fits into your life right now. If it doesn't, do the other things. Fill your creative well so it will be ready when writing does fit into your life. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Learn more about WQA

Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

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highvern · 4 months

Text

Track 8: Yuck - Charlie XCX

“Calling too much, you're breaking my phone // Mad when you do and sad when you don't”

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Warnings: pining, emotionally constipated reader, first dates/new relationships, she wants a piece of that ass but seokmin is a gentleman

Length: ~600

Note: this is dedicated to my fearful avoidant attachment style and getting the ick when someone likes you too much... if you know you know

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

Mixtape Series: Me & You Masterlist

main masterlist

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

If you knew one date with Seokmin could lead to so much trouble, you would go back in time and slap yourself.

You didn’t even know he existed two weeks ago. But then a friend introduced him at her recent gallery opening and now you don’t think you’ll be able to forget him even if you tried.

Seokmin, the event coordinator with nice arms, Jennie whispered in your ear before dragging you over for an introduction. You hardly noticed when she melted into the shadows with a knowing smirk, leaving you and the handsome man to your own devices.

You’d hit it off and since then he wormed his way under your skin with endearing enthusiam and a blinding smile.

But in the span of a week he’s driven you up the wall. And it all started when you agreed to an innocent dinner date with the hopes you'd see a lot more than just his arms.

Seokmin was a complete gentleman; pulled out your chair at dinner, offered his coat when you shivered in the cold wind curling off the river as you walked in the moonlight, and wordlessly provided his arm after you stumbled in your heels from an innocent compliment. At the end of the night, he walked you to your door, dropped a kiss to your cheek, and sent you inside with another boyish grin before he disappeared down the sidewalk; unaware of your burning face and shaky legs.

What grown man kisses someone on the cheek?

Better question, what grown man declines an invitation to spend the night, no strings attached, in favor of…whatever it was Seokmin wanted?

Your phone blew up with calls, long text messages gushing about how he can’t wait until he gets to see you again; attempts to make plans, gauge your schedule so he could get a reservation somewhere. And sprinkles of small talk throughout the day like he cared how your meeting went or that someone drank the last cup of coffee without making a new pot.

Your friends thought it was sweet. You couldn’t be more annoyed.

He shouldn’t make you feel like this after one date. You were an adult for christ sake. How embarrassing was it for someone your age to jump ten feet in the air each time their phone screen illuminated with a new notification, heart racing when Seokmin’s name showed up. Or even worse, when it wasn’t Seokmin and your face drooped in disappointment.

You hated it.

And as annoyed as you were when he spammed you with texts throughout the day, you were even more annoyed when Seokmin cut you off cold turkey.

In hindsight, it’d been your own fault for not reciprocating his enthusiasm. Seokmin was clearly interested in you, he’d made nothing but effort upon effort to get to know you. It was you who was the problem. You couldn’t handle such blatant, uncomplicated interest; no ulterior motive to get into your bed, no careful rouse to get what he wanted and then split. And in the confusion, you aimed your irritation at the source of your discomfort.

After two horrible days of radio silence, you swallow your pride.

Thankfully Seokmin picked up on the second ring.

“Hey…” you shyly mumble.

“Hey!”

You can feel his smile through the phone, so warm your own face heats like you’ve been sitting in the sun for hours.

“I was wondering if you were still free on Friday?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin fluff #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom fluff #🫡 highvern

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roosteraloha · 6 months

Text

ghosted

a hireath universe story

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

wc - approx 2.5k

warnings - a lot of angst, description of a panic attack

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

You glanced at your phone again. Pointless. The notification centre was still empty from the message you were expecting. There were a few texts from the dagger squad, namely Natasha’s ‘you’ve got this!!’, which was followed up with ‘I know you did good, can’t wait to hear all about it later :)’, Bob’s very simple but appreciated ‘good luck, do it just like we practised :)’ and Javy’s typical teasing that typically would’ve make you smile, but there was one name missing. The one you desperately craved, yet nothing.

This presentation was a big part of your final grade for one of your classes. Put simply, you had to present your research to the entire course at the end of the semester - which was a lot of people - to make it a bit more engaging, students were to invite a friend or family member to help show off their research results.

When this was first assigned, Bradley was an excellent helper, encouraging you to pick the topic you wanted to but was intimidated by, even volunteering himself to help with the presentation. You heart was bursting that he’d even want to help out with his hectic schedule, too afraid to even ask him about it, your plan was to ask Javy or Natasha for help, to completely avoid this very situation.

Unsurprisingly, you return to an empty house, no bronco in the driveway, and still no communication from Bradley. Stripping out of your formal clothes, you drag yourself to the bedroom, pulling on one of Bradley’s sweaters.

Deciding to just wait it out, not seeing the point of trying to reach Bradley only to be ghosted again, you make yourself a warm drink in your favourite mug that you bought when you first moved in, curling up on the couch, nestling under on the blankets scattered around in a feeble attempt to shut out the huff until Bradley got home.

Whenever that would be.

The rumble of the bronco in the driveway was the first sign that he was home, followed by his keys in the door, and the whistling of the same cheerful tune he always did, the one you could never exactly place. Exhaling shakily, you find your voice as he lovingly presses a kiss to the small section of your head that was visible from under your blanket, like he always did, like nothing was wrong.

“Where were you?” You were met with complete silence from your boyfriend. “I was at work, you know that. Why? What’s up?” He’s confused, brows furrowed, having completely forgotten about his promise to you. He couldn’t even text you to let you know that he wasn’t going to make it, the bare minimum that you both had put down as ground rules at the beginning of your friendship, never mind your relationship.

And that hurt.

“I never ask anything of you, and the one time I needed you to do one thing for me? You couldn’t! you didn’t even bother to let me know you wouldn’t make it! Do you know how that made me feel?! To be there all alone when I promised you’d be there! You humiliated me Bradley!!”

“I had to work!! But then again, you wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you?! I was busy, okay?! Just get off my back about this!!”

You immediately quieten and shrink back, more than Bradley had ever known you to do. It was clear he’d fucked up. He didn’t mean it. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it - he was just stressed and overworked. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

You eyes well with unshed tears, the deep ache in your chest was the worse than you could’ve ever imagined. This is why you were so cautious getting into a relationship. You never wanted to be pushed away in someone’s lists priorities, having promises broken along with your heart.

For years, you had been the single friend, and as the years went by, you had picked your friends back up after being completely heartbroken and depressed after a rough breakup countless times and you swore to yourself that you would never allow yourself to be in that position. That was until Bradley came along and turned your life upside down.

Bradley took a cautious step towards you, his hands out low, as if approaching a skittish wild animal that would spook if he moved too quickly. He was right. You darted straight past him, towards the door, tugging his sweater over your head and tossing it at his feet.

Once outside you just ran. You weren’t the most athletic person, certainly not compared to Bradley, but he was frozen in place, watching his world fall apart as you sprint out of the door, out of his life.

The slight chill in the air was unusual for springtime in San Diego, the sun had long since began to set, slowly taking its heat away, leaving it cold, just like how you felt.

You’d ran until you found a quiet cove on the beach, not too far from the Hard Deck - an intentional move due to the fact that in your haste to leave, you’d left your phone, at least if you needed to, you could get to Penny at least.

Back at your home, Bradley was in a panic. It’d been hours since you left - since he’d let you leave. He shot a quick text to the dagger squad groupchat, quickly being reminded of the previous talk of how to celebrate the end of your semester. It hit him now just how badly he’d fucked up. He knew how much time and effort you’d put into your degree and especially this presentation that he himself had volunteered to help present.

No one could figure out where you’d gotten to, by this point you could be anywhere, and that terrified Bradley. Natasha was quick to tear into Bradley for messing up so badly, the rest of the squad staying quiet for she worded everything perfectly.

He messed up.

Badly.

After watching the sunset with angry, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, and hearing the last few stragglers leave the Hard Deck, you slowly stand, brushing the cold sand off your legs. You pushed the back door open slowly, quietly moving to sit down in your usual corner, waiting for Penny to notice your presence.

It took a while before she felt your eyes on her, she startled, immediately rushing to your side, her motherly instincts kicking in. “Where the hell have you been?! Are you hurt? Bradley’s worried sick, the whole squad has been looking for you!” You shrugged noncommittally, you couldn’t find it in you to care. Bradley didn’t.

Placing a glass of water before you, Penny pulled out her phone, “I’m going to call Bradley, okay? Just to let him know you’re okay, he’s going to want to come and pick you up.” Immediately, you shook your head, “NO- I uh- Call Jake.” You didn’t know why you asked for Jake instead of Natasha - it just felt right. Nodding at Penny's frown, you insist, “Penny please, just call Jake.”

Jake arrived too soon after the phone call to have obeyed any traffic laws. The worry was deeply etched into his expression as he rushed to your side, hands immediately reaching out to pull you into a brief hug, before checking you over for any injuries.

Blinking away tears, your blurry eyes focus on his green ones. Jake easily saw through your meagre attempt at suppressing your overwhelming panic. You craved Bradley’s comfort, but he wanted you off his back, panic building as your thoughts raced on repeat.

He didn’t want you.

He wanted you off his back.

Did he not love you like you loved him?

Where did it all go so wrong?

Bradley didn’t want you.

The loud buzzing in your ears faded, slowly registering Jake’s soothing tone. “Just keep breathing. In and out. Yeah, just like that. You’re doing great. You’ve got this.”

The next thing you know, Jake was replaced by Bradley, pulling you tightly to his chest. You inhaled sharply, gasping to catch your breath.

Rough, warm hands cradle your face, encouraging you to maintain eye contact. Bradley’s eyes were glistening with tears, red-rimmed, a tell-tale sign that he too was suffering. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” His voice was hoarse, breaking with emotion, “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t you ever leave like that again, you hear me?”

Repeating his demand, ensuring you heard him, you shakily reach out and grab a hold of the back of his sweater, not wanting any physical or emotional distance between you. Looking over his shoulder, you realised that Jake was now joined by the rest of the dagger squad, and to your surprise, even Maverick, all of whom wore a slight variation of worry and relief, watching you and Bradley from the bar, giving you some space.

"What I said was stupid. I was being so stupid and unfair to you. And I'm truly sorry for that." One of his hands gently runs through your hair, pulling your head gently away from his neck, “I am so so sorry. I cannot apologise enough. But please, never ever leave like that when I have no way of contacting you, no way of knowing if you’re hurt. Okay?”

You nod slowly, eyes searching his to see he truly was regretting his words and the way he treated you. “I won’t. I hope this never happens again, but I’ll bring my phone and a charger next time, okay?” He immediately nods, the tension visibly easing in his shoulders, soothing his hands across your cheeks, keeping physical contact with you at all times.

Shifting slightly, you glance up over his shoulder, meeting the concerned gaze of your friends, shyly giving them a soft, apologetic smile. You never meant to worry any of them, you just needed space. Standing shakily, you walk over to them, with Bradley’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist, not allowing you to stray more than a step from his side.

It felt secure, it felt safe.

The squad brought you into a large group hug, thankful that you were okay. Bradley pulled Jake to one side, expressing his gratitude for him dropping everything to get to you when Penny called, and letting him know straight away that he knew you were safe. For all teasing and tension between them in the skies and careers, Bradley was truly grateful to have someone as loyal as Jake in his life - not that he would ever let Jake know that though.

By the time you’d got home, you couldn’t stop shivering, something Bradley had immediately picked up on, softly leading you upstairs and into the bathroom. He lifted you so you were sat on the counter, as busied himself gathering a fresh sweater of his, along with his pair of sweatpants that you’d taken after your first night together. He began running a bath, reaching under the counter to find the bubble bath he knew you loved but was too expensive for you to use regularly, along with your shampoo, conditioner and body wash.

You knew where this was going. This is what you loved about Bradley. His attention to minute details about you.

He slowly helped you into the bath, after helping you undress carefully, kneeling outside the bath to allow you to stretch out fully. After letting you adjust to the temperature of the water, he softly began to wash your hair, having watched you do it countless times, he followed each step with precision, not letting a single bubble reach your face. Then, he’s pinning it up with a claw clip while he washed your body delicately, such small acts of affection that had your heart growing at how closely he’d paid attention to your routines.

He let you soak away your stress for a while, until the water started to cool slightly. Then, he was guiding you to stand, drying you off and started to apply your body lotion. He pulled his clothes he picked out carefully onto you, before sliding on a new pair of fluffy socks, which you knew he secretly loved so he didn’t feel your cold feet in bed.

Next, he was combing your hair gently with his fingers, following each detailed step in your hair care routine, blow drying your hair fully. Bradley had listened to your grumblings every single hair wash day since you’d moved in together to know that after such an emotionally exhausting day, drying your hair yourself would be the last thing you wanted to do.

Now tears of love and admiration were welling in your eyes, not understanding how you had got so lucky to have a man like Bradley in your life, someone who paid so much attention to each little aspect of your life. You grabbed his arm gently as he was lining up all your skincare products on the counter, bringing his attention back to you. His brow furrows deeply at your glossy eyes, he goes to speak but you cut him off with a kiss, one that you hoped expressed how much you loved and appreciated him. Pulling away, you kissed him again gently and smiled softly, letting him get back starting your skincare routine.

Cuddled up in your bed next Bradley was the perfect ending to such a stressful day. He lovingly carried you to the bed, tucked you under the covers, even allowing you to have an extra blanket than he normally did, just to bring an extra smile to your face. Resting your head against his shoulder, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, to which he returned with a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hand wrapped around your shoulder and his hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’m sorry I missed the presentation. So tell me all about it. And I mean everything.” You laughed softly at Bradley’s love of college student drama, snuggling impossibly closer to him, and starting to recall your day, pausing for his commentary about each presentation and drama starting student, soon pushing your miscommunication fight to the back of your mind.

You truly loved Bradley.

no pressure tags

(either you reblogged hiraeth or interacted with my other post - if you don’t want to be tagged pls send me a message and I’ll remove you)

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick fic #allina writes

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mimicha-arts · 9 months

Text

Qian Jin

Hello and sorry. I’m here again with my “catch the details faster than the frame changes.” Let's talk about Qian Jin! I'm pretty sure we'll learn new information in the next episode because of the flashback, so I want to get ahead of things a little and play bingo ;)

SPOILERS FOR S2

1. Romeo and Juliet Many have discussed this, but we will go deeper. One of the main key points in the s2 is the Romeo and Juliet theme and poster, which we now know is related to Qian Jin's story.

In my opinion, his whole scene with the poster looked very personal, hardly just "symbolism" of his feelings after losing his wife or something like that. And here I will try to explain why. Because, most likely, the actress on the poster is Qian Jin's wife. Her name was shown for such a brief moment that I actually nearly lost my mind while trying to capture the frame. So, her name is probably Chen Nan (陈楠). And I really don't think it was necessary to include such details if they are minor.

Well. Pure speculations. We all remember that initially everything was wrong with the case, the suspect in the murder of Qian Jin‘s wife after some time committed suicide and left a note with a confession. Although I can read some words, I can't rely on my eyes, so I can't string them together into complete sentences. But what I can guess is that there are two characters in the signature, and the surname kinda looks like Zhuang (庄).

So. Which character also has the surname Zhuang, who has already been "shown" in the series… On the same poster of "Romeo and Juliet", where the actress, theoretically, was Qian Jin's wife… Yeah. Zhuang Shuai (庄帅)

Okay, this could all be a coincidence, my imagination, speculation. But is these details actually connected, for now, until this has been refuted, I suspect that the story of the murder of Qian Jin's wife was much more personal and deep. Like, now we are convinced that after he found out about Cheng Xiaoshi's ability, his motivation is obviously to capture Cheng Xiaoshi in order to rewrite the past. Likely to save his wife (?). But I'm not sure how much more complex it will be?

If any of this is confirmed, I rather think that Qian Jin's wife was killed by Zhuang Shuai out of jealousy. I also need to say, for now I don't think that 戴绿帽子 is a possible situation here, seems TOO cruel for me, but who knows.

2. Qian Jin and details Eyes. We were all confused because Qian Jin's eyes were not common, but icy yellow. In fact, his eyes can be said to have three states. I also note that sometimes pupils are not drawn or too small because of 2D graphics, so I take into account only obvious close-ups. First type: present, yellow eyes with a vertical pupil. We see that kind of his eyes in most of his scenes. The same type of eyes are in his character design pictures and intro.

Second type: present, yellow with a round pupil. This type of eyes appears specifically in episode 4.

(Technically) third type: the past, yellow eyes with a round pupil. In all the close-up scenes in flashbacks, his pupils are round.

Abilities: It's hard to guess, but at the moment I don't think he personally has any special abilities. It seems to me, given his one line, that Qian Jin relies more on his skills, plans and his people, treating abilities (at least in this situation) in a rather lenient way. Also, his real words sound more special and poetic - If there is a way to reach the sky, it will be difficult to fly away even with wings (friendly reminder, I'm not a translator or native speaker)

But there is one dubious detail. OK. Speaking of gloves, he probably uses gloves to avoid accidentally touching Li Tianchen and getting controlled, which is a pretty logical conclusion after episode 8. But. At some point, while talking to Li Tianchen, when the frame points to Qian Jin, there is a rather small movement of the hand and the sound of either the rustle of clothes, or the sound of something being handed over (ep 7, 1:22-1:28). This was weird.

This may be a trick, but at some point, when it gets to 7pm, Qian Jin claps his hands. And given to Cheng Xiaoshi's abilities, we know that clapping can be a means of activating/disabling an ability.

Speculation: Since we can't fully rely on changing the shape of the eyes, pupil, eye color, due to the change in visual "rules" compared to season 1 + animation errors, but for now I'll make assumptions.

In fact, in some of these scenes, Qian Jin may be possessed by Cheng Xiaoshi (which is trite, but possible)

Someone uses their abilities on Qian Jin, they are in cooperation. This person either possess him either they watches events through Qian Jin's eyes from time to time, as if through a camera.

Qian Jin gave something to Li Tianchen in the car, and that will play a role in the plot.

The change of eyes is an attempt to show the change in his personality, but I don't think it's that simple.

3. Something beyond my understanding

The man with a hat. They are obviously connected, and I already wrote a big theory about this, if the man in the hat turns out to be Liu Xiao, let's not dwell on this, if you want to read, click on - Person in the shadows.

Dates In his intro, although there is some information, as always, the year is not indicated. Obviously, the current year is still 2021 (according to s1). But in the second season, we are not shown specific dates anywhere (even with the twins, although we can find out their year of birth by literally subtracting 19), and here. There is an event, there is a blurry date. Not specified. I guess something is wrong with time already or is this a hint that it doesn’t matter, because the events are looped / will be erased.

Player and music And probably the most ??????? thing. When Qian Jin is in the car, there is a VERY short frame before he takes the call. If you catch it... here is a player on the screen. The music is Symphony of Fate (生命交响乐). And the player does not have a "back" button, only forward.

Time is like music, yeah. Thank you for reading once again ~ I hope episode 9 gives us more information and answers some questions though… *cries*. Feel free to discuss!

#link click #link click s2 #link click spoilers #shiguang dailiren #qian jin #mimicha.lc #my moment of insanity

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archiveikemen · 1 month

Text

Ellis Twilight Main Story: Chapter 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

Ellis: Sorry for the wait, Jude.

Jude: … Ah?

Jude stared at Ellis in disbelief for a moment when he noticed that he had brought me along, but he surprisingly said nothing about it.

Kate: I’ll be accompanying you as the fairytale keeper. I look forward to working with you!

Jude: … Tch.

Jude clicked his tongue at Ellis as though to say “cut the crap”, completely ignoring my existence.

Ellis: I submitted the declaration for today’s shipment last night.

Jude: Of course you did. I’ll cut your pay if it’s not received first thing in the morning.

(Besides working for Crown, they also have work to do at the trading company… they must be very busy.)

To avoid getting in their way, I walked behind Jude and Ellis while silently observing them.

…

Based on my observations—,

Jude was the boss of a trading company named “Raven” which dealt with both domestic and international business, it also had branches in other countries.

They held their negotiation meetings in the VIP rooms at London’s biggest department stores, and their goods inspections were conducted at London’s pier…

Time seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye while I was following them throughout the day.

Their work ethics, however…

Jude: No making new deals until all debts are settled.

Jude: Of course there will be consequences for failing to pay your debts. If your debts are too much for you, you’ll pay for them even if you have to cough up blood.

Jude was sharp and a good speaker; he commanded respect from his business partners, was subjected to envy from his rivals, and his employees admired him.

Meanwhile…

Ellis: Okay, I’ll handle the rest.

Ellis: It’s easy to make mistakes in these documents. Let me know if there’s anything you don’t understand; I’ll teach you and we’ll correct them together.

Ellis was well-liked by others because of his gentle demeanour and thoughtfulness wherever he went.

(The two of them are polar opposites of each other.)

As we went on with our day, it was soon nearly noon on Big Ben.

Jude: You don’t need to come with me to the main office. There’s no knowing what people will say if they see an extra person.

Ellis: Mm, got it.

Kate: Thank you for letting me come along with you today.

Jude: … Heh, I look forward to hearing you say that the next time you come.

(What does that mean…?)

I tilted my head in confusion at his words.

Jude: You brought her, so you clean up after her. This has nothing to do with me.

Ellis: Yeah… I will.

(… Ellis seems to know what he meant.)

Jude walked way without so much as another look at me, and Ellis turned to me.

Ellis: You must be tired. Sorry for dragging you everywhere.

Kate: No, I’m not tired at all! I have lots of stamina because of my previous job as a postwoman.

Ellis: I see, that’s good. … Well then, while we’re here…

Ellis: Can you come with me for a little bit?

I was asked to stay for a while longer, and—

…

(W-Why are we here…!?)

We arrived at the post office I used to work at.

Ellis turned to look back at me when he noticed me hesitating at the entrance.

Ellis: What’s the matter?

(That’s what I really want to ask him right now…)

Kate: I know a lot of people here because this used to be my workplace… is it really okay for me to have interactions with them before my one month is up?

Ellis: Victor said that there are no restrictions on your activities apart from going outside alone, so I guess this is fine?

I blinked in surprise at his casual response.

(That’s not something I’m in the position to decide… is this REALLY acceptable?)

Ellis: I have some mail to send out. I’ll handle the procedures myself, go ahead and do whatever you want while you wait for me.

Kate: Okay…

Ellis made his way to the counter, leaving me behind at the entrance.

(I wonder what would happen if I asked someone I know for help and leaked classified information…)

I couldn't conceal my confusion at my suspiciously relaxed “surveillance”.

(At least… this means that Ellis trusts me to not do that, I guess?)

(However—)

(If classified information is leaked, they’ll get rid of everyone who knows about it, including myself…)

— “Do we kill her?”

I suddenly remembered those words he said so casually and shook my head in a panic, when…

Coworker with Braids: Kate!?

Kate: Ah.

Coworker with Braids: It really is you, Kate! Everyone, Kate is here!

The other coworkers heard them and immediately gathered around.

Red-Haired Coworker: Kate~ why did you suddenly start working at the palace? What’s going on?

Coworker with Black Eyes: We were so worried about you.

(Even though they’re this worried about me because I suddenly stopped coming to work…)

(I can’t tell them the real reason for my absence. Not now.)

(I don't even know if I’ll come back in one piece after a month.)

(But…)

I pushed my anxiety aside, not wanting to make them worry more.

Kate: I’m doing well. I still don't really understand what's going on because today’s only my first day of work, but I’ll definitely figure it out.

Coworker with Braids: I mean, it’s THE Kate who can turn any complaining customer into a good one; I’m sure you’ll be fine, wherever you are.

Red-Haired Coworker: We were at a loss and felt so lonely after you disappeared so suddenly…

Kate: I’m… really sorry about that. The situation is beyond my control.

Coworker with Braids: I guess you can’t really refuse orders from the palace.

Coworker with Black Eyes: We’ll always have your back, Kate.

Red-Haired Coworker: Hey, take this!

Red-Haired Coworker: We bought these together and wanted to pass them to you if you happened to drop by. Glad we could!

Kate: Eeh… you guys bought this many things?

Various presents were piled up in my arms.

There was a blanket, cookies from my favourite shop… so much that I was afraid I would drop the items if I moved.

Ellis: Let me help you carry them.

Ellis appeared next to me and took over the items.

All my coworkers simultaneously turned their eyes towards Ellis immediately.

Coworker with Braids: Wait a second… who is THIS!? Is he Kate’s boyfriend!?

Red-Haired Coworker: Oh I know him! He’s that scary businessman’s bodyguard!

The situation went into chaos like a hornet’s nest being disturbed.

Coworker with Braids: Kate, you must give us a good explanation of your relationship with this handsome man!

Kate: Uhh… we met at the palace yesterday because of work. We have a purely professional relationship.

Coworker with Braids: Hmm, you two seem way closer than that.

Red-Haired Coworker: So suspicious…!

Kate: Hey… calm down, you guys…

Ellis took over the remaining items in my arms while I tried to calm my coworkers down.

Ellis: I caused quite a commotion… sorry. I’ll wait for you outside.

Kate: Ah… I’m sorry too! I’ll be quick.

Ellis: Take your time :)

I watched as Ellis nodded politely at everyone before leaving the post office.

(I made him worry…)

Coworker with Braids: So you got married before returning to work, huh…

Red-Haired Coworker: Congratulations.

Kate: I’ve been saying, that’s not true…!

…

— In the end, the commotion was resolved when our supervisor said “please, let’s leave it at that”.

I bid my coworkers farewell and stepped outside to meet Ellis who was leaning against a lampost with my gifts in hand, waiting for me.

(He looks like a work of art even from a distance.)

His refined physique and long, slender legs made him stand out.

Kate: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Ellis: Nope, not at all. … You could've stayed to chat more if you liked.

Kate: It’s fine! Umm, about the rude things my coworkers said earlier on…

The jokes about him being my boyfriend when we had a purely professional relationship might have made him uncomfortable.

(I have to make it up to him somehow… ah, I know.)

Kate: There’s a shop nearby that has delicious baguettes. Please let me treat you to something there as an apology.

Ellis: …

Ellis stared hard at me, looking like he just made a realisation.

Ellis: I think I get why you received so many gifts now.

Kate: Huh…?

Carrying the large bag of gifts from my coworkers in his hands, Ellis took a step closer to me…

He leaned in, his face so close to mine that our foreheads almost touched.

Ellis: You don't have to treat me, but I’m curious about your recommendation.

(... Ellis is still a mystery to me.)

However, there was no doubt that his kindness had found its way into my heart.

As proof of that, our conversation during our second meal together went more smoothly compared to the one we had over breakfast—.

…

Kate: Oh… it’s already gotten this late.

It was almost sunset when we left the shop.

Ellis: … We should hurry and return to the castle.

Ellis muttered in a low voice while staring at the streets getting dark.

It was my first time hearing that urgency in his voice, and I realised how overly lighthearted I was being.

(Perhaps he has plans for tonight, and yet I kept him outside for so long.)

Kate: We can save some time if we take the shortcut through this alley.

Using the navigation skills I got from working as a postwoman, I walked into a narrow alley.

Ellis: Ah…

Ellis: … It’ll be okay if we’re together, I guess.

We hurriedly made our way through the dimly lit alley where the sunlight didn't shine, and we were only a little more away from reaching a well-lit street.

Man in Hunting Hat: …

Suddenly, a man appeared and blocked our path. I instinctively tried to pass him by moving to the side, but—

(Huh…?)

The man extended a foot, stopping me from leaving.

I sensed that something was off and turned around to see two more men emerging from behind.

Man in Hunting Hat: You’re Jude Jazza’s woman?

(Jude?)

Kate: No, you’re mistaken… who are you people?

Man in Hunting Hat: We’ll confirm if you’re telling the truth later. Capture her.

The three men drew their knives and attacked.

(Wha- What!?)

Ellis: Kate, hold onto these for a minute.

Kate: Whoa…!

I was handed the bag of gifts from my coworkers in the middle of the chaotic situation and Ellis deflected their leader’s attack with a black dagger.

Ellis: This might get a little scary, but it’ll be over soon.

While I stood there at a loss for words, Ellis did as he said and swiftly knocked the men out.

He only used his dagger to counter their weapons, and relied mainly on his long limbs to handle them.

Ellis: … Done.

Ellis lined the unconscious men along the side of the path and gave each of their heads a light tap like a finishing touch—

Their wrists instantly stuck together, almost like they were in prayer.

Kate: Amazing…! How did you do that?

Ellis: I can bind people’s wrists like this by touching their heads.

(Now I remember…)

— “Cursed people” possess special abilities ordinary people don’t.

I recalled what Roger once said to me.

Kate: I see… so, this is your special ability?

Ellis: Yup. That's right. It’s convenient for such situations when you don’t have rope.

With a satisfied smile, Ellis effortlessly took over the bag of gifts again.

Ellis: Jude tends to get many people holding grudges against him, so he often gets attacked like what just happened.

Ellis: It’s unusual for him to have a woman with him, so those guys must have misunderstood you for his lover.

(Grudges… I see.)

Somehow or other, I realised that this happened because I followed them to work during the day.

(To think being attacked like this has become a routine, working for a trading company must be hard.)

Ellis: … Sorry.

Kate: You don’t have to apologise! Thank you very much for protecting me, Ellis.

Ellis frowned slightly and shook his head.

Ellis: To be honest, I saw this coming. I knew something like this would happen if I brought you outside with us.

Ellis: But… you looked disheartened when I said I was going to work today.

Ellis: I made the selfish decision to take you along. … I’m sorry for that.

(Ellis…)

He said it was selfish of him, but I knew very well that everything he did was for my sake.

(Breakfast, telling me about all the members of Crown, taking me with him to work…)

(Even our trip to the post office could’ve been for me.)

Kate: I was happy throughout the day, so… you really don’t have to apologise.

I smiled to express my appreciation for Ellis’ kindness.

Ellis: … Okay. Glad to hear that.

Ellis lips curled into a warm smile — much like the last ray of sunlight cast by the setting sun…

Maybe it was because of the approaching twilight, but there was a strange troubling feeling that caused a stir in my chest.

…

Upon returning to my room, I opened the bag of gifts from my coworkers.

“We’re concerned about you, Kate”

“Feel free to contact us anytime.”

The kind words in the letter from them made my heart feel warm.

(The only reason why I could receive these from them… was because Ellis took me to the post office.)

The joy I felt at that moment was all thanks to Ellis’ efforts to make me happy.

I’ve stepped foot into a different world.

For one month, there’s no going back to my original daily life—

It felt like he was telling the frightened me that “everything will be alright”.

(I now feel more confident about surviving this one month than I did this morning.)

(All the more so with Ellis by my side.)

— And so, I welcomed the next morning with a renewed sense of determination.

…

Victor: I heard about it, Kate. You were attacked by Jude’s business rivals yesterday?

Kate: Ah, yes. But I remained unharmed, thanks to Ellis.

Victor: That’s a relief to know, but… Miss Kate, if your safety is put at risk before the end of the contract’s one-month term—

Victor: — Crown’s confidential information will also be at risk of being leaked! Am I right to say that?

Ellis: Yeah.

Jude: … I have a bad feeling about this.

Victor responded to Jude’s obviously displeasured tone with a broad smile…

Victor: For that reason, Jude and Ellis, I’d like for both of you to take up the role of Kate’s bodyguards!

(What!?)

Jude: Ah?

Ellis: … Bodyguards? :0

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil main story #ellis main story #ellis twilight #aikm translation

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blubushie · 4 months

Note

What is a bush name? Definition wise I mean

A bush name is a name you're given, usually derived from your specific Dreaming or that of your family's. Aboriginal names are heavily influenced by family. So:

Skin name. This is soooorta equivalent to a surname? It's how your specific familial group is referred to. Cousins have a specific name that they would refer to you as, whereas your parents and siblings have a specific name to refer to you as, and your grandparents have another. Skin names are used to express how exactly you relate to somebody (for example, maternal extended family vs paternal extended family have different names).

Bush name. This is your Dreaming name. It's usually the word that's specifically of your Dreaming, or one associated with it. This can be confusing sometimes because Dreamings are everywhere which means you'll often hear this word be used at random points in conversation depending on subject. However using it to refer to someone is different and you don't use it to refer to someone without authority to do so and only in very specific circumstances.

Parental name. This can also be a locational name and is used to avoid using someone's bush name. Usually translates to "child of [name]" or "child of [place]"

Birthname. This is the name that babies are given at birth, but this name isn't used until children are learning to walk ("making tracks"). Up until the child is able to walk, the parental name is used instead.

Spoken name. This is used to refer to a person and is equivalent to a nickname. It however isn't usually used to address someone as that can be seen as rude. The spoken name is usally taken from someone's experiences. Mine is Blu, and I'm perfectly fine with it being spoken and used to address me.

Descriptive names. These are usually used in times of mourning as a manner of respect. For example, if someone happened to me, people wouldn't call Jacko by his name, but rather "the man who lost his brother."

European name. This is something most Aboriginal people have to make interacting with white people easier, but not everyone goes by them all the time. Jacko's is John, but everyone calls him Jack/Jacko. Mine is the same as my birth name, but I prefer being called Blu over being called my birth name.

Substitutions. An alteration of someone's birth name (and sometimes spoken name) used to address them when someone with the same or similar name has died and so that name can't be spoken (we don't speak the names of our dead until funeral rites are completed and that can take months or even years). Substitutions is how we get around that.

#blu whos #true blu #abad

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immabethehero · 11 months

Text

A Starry Night in the Encanto

I DID IT. CROSSOVER WEEK FINALLY COMPLETE. @wdtajn IT’S FINALLY DONE

So context: there’s a lovely musical called Starry, based on the life of Vincent Van Gogh. It’s written by Kelly Lynne D’Angelo and Matt Dahan, both very talented. Dahan also did a bit of Starkid. The soundtrack is on Spotify, go listen to it now!!!

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠

“His hair is red like Mamá’s. Fiery red,” Dolores reports.

“He’s only got art equipment on him,” Isabela says.

“The hummingbirds say a door appeared from a hill and he emerged from it,” Antonio translates, the little birds fluttering around his head.

“He hasn’t said much to anyone, just kind of wandered towards the fields where the donkeys were,” Luisa recalls.

“He’s a lot like you, Tío, weird and artsy,” Camilo admits. This earns him a smack from Dolores.

“So… you think you could try talking to him?” Mirabel asks.

Bruno blinks rapidly, struggling to keep up with all the sudden information. He had just been dreaming of watching sheep and rats dance in a field when a tremor that made his bones rattle and his teeth chatter startled him awake. When he opened his eyes, he quickly surmised the tremor had been all six kids shaking him awake.

“And you want me to talk to him because…” he begins.

“Because like Camilo said in a non-helpful way, he reminds the town of you,” Mirabel answers.

An artist who avoids socializing? Fair enough. Bruno sighs and swings his feet out of the hammock. “Alright, just don’t expect any fascinating conversations to happen.”

“We won’t,” Camilo responds.

True to what Luisa said, Bruno finds the man sitting on a rock, painting the donkeys grazing in the field. The stranger wears blue overalls over a yellow shirt, both covered in dried paint splotches. He chews on a spare paint brush as he contemplates his next move. Red hair pokes out from under his straw hat.

Bruno slowly walks over to him, whistling absentmindedly to get his attention. The stranger’s head perks up, but he refuses to tear his eyes away from his masterpiece.

Bruno takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Um, hi!”

No response. The man keeps painting.

Maybe he doesn’t speak English. “Hola!” Still no response.

“Uh… bonjour! Ciao! Habari! Konnichiwa! Guten morgen!” Please say something!

The stranger finally (finally!) turns around. His blue eyes have a sad, faraway look, yet twinkle with determination. They’re also very judgemental, at least to Bruno. “Didn’t know you spoke so many languages.”

Bruno feels his face turn red. “Not really, I just know how to say ‘hello’ and ‘where’s the bathroom’ in many languages.”

The stranger nods and turns back to his painting. Bruno peers over his shoulder to see the work.

“Woah…”

The colours pop out of the canvas, the sky dancing and twirling in a polychromatic tornado. The field boasts just as many hues, every shade of green far more eye-catching than Bruno’s ruana.

The man stops his painting and glares at Bruno. “Can I help you with something?”

“Teach me to paint.”

“What?”

“Can you teach me to paint like you, please?”

The man glances back and forth between Bruno and his painting, confused. “You actually like this?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve never seen the sky and fields painted like that before!” Bruno admits. “It’s… maravilloso!”

The man blushes. “You’d be the first non-family member to say that. My other friends would say it’s too… what’s the word…”

“Messy?” Bruno guesses.

“No… tacky. Something like that.”

Bruno scoffs. “You need new friends.”

The painter laughs. “You flatter me, sir. What’s your name?”

“Bruno Madrigal.”

“Vincent Van Vogh.”

As Bruno shakes Vincent’s hand, his heart begins to beat faster in excitement. There’s something very fascinating about this man.

“Do you need a place to stay?”

“Given my way here has suddenly disappeared, yes. Do you have a motel where I could spend the night?”

“I was thinking perhaps my place? My family's house is big enough to house a guest wandering the Encanto,” Bruno says.

“Encanto?”

“It’s where you are. Encanto, Colombia.”

Vincent’s pale face turns ghostly. “Colombia?! That’s so far from France! How did I get here? How do I get back?!”

Bruno waves his hands nervously. “Don’t worry! This town does all sorts of magical stuff. I’m sure once you’ve settled down and explained how you got here, a way for you to go home will arrive. For now, let’s just settle on finding you a place to stay. I promise my family doesn’t bite. But the pets might.”

Vincent squeaks in response.

As they near the brilliant “Casita”, as Bruno calls it, the man suddenly stops Vincent in his tracks.

“Before we get any closer, I need to warn you of some things. This town is known for… its eccentricities, to say the least. For one thing, my house moves independently.”

Vincent nods warily. “Like… it’s haunted?”

Bruno laughs nervously. “No, it just has a mind of its own.”

The two continue on their way, and Bruno motions to Casita. “As you see…”

The window shutters on the top window suddenly swing and the tiles of the roof roll in a wave. Vincent yelps in surprise.

The window shutters shake back and forth slowly, as if waving. Vincent meekly waves back. The door opens (on its own!) to welcome the men inside. Vincent marvels at the building’s beautiful colours. He’ll have to paint it once he’s made sure he’s awake and not just hallucinating. Or dreaming. Or completely losing his mind. Maybe he should have taken up Segatori’s suggestion to see that doctor from wherever-the-heck.

“My family has magic as well. Some are a bit more noticeable than others,” Bruno explains. “For example-”

A roar of thunder echoes through the courtyard, startling Vincent. He looks up. There’s not a single cloud in the sky, how-?

He is soon answered by a tall woman wearing a bright orange dress. Her red hair is pulled back into a pretty braid. She eyes Vincent suspiciously.

“Who’s this, Bruno?” she asks.

“He’s Vincent, he’s… new here,” Bruno explains. He turns to Vincent. “This is Pepa, my sister. She can control the weather.”

Pepa scoffs. “It’s not so much control as it is just summoning clouds when I get emotional.”

“It’s still a very cool gift,” Bruno says. Pepa smiles and shoves him playfully.

“Whatever you say, hermano.”

Vincent hears loud footsteps above and looks up to see six, well, five young adults and one child curiously watching him from the mezzanine.

“Oh boy, there’s two of them now,” the teenaged boy mumbles. The girl with the red headband elbows him hard.

“These are my nieces and nephews!” Bruno says, grinning. “Come on down!”

Once they’re all standing in front of Vincent, Bruno introduces them. Isabela, Dolores, Luisa, Camilo, Mirabel and Antonio.

“Pleased to meet you at last, Señor. What’s your name?” Mirabel asks, pushing her bright green glasses up. Vincent marvels at her beautiful skirt.

“I’m Vincent. Vincent Van Gogh,” the artist says. “Your skirt is very pretty.” So many colours…

“Thank you! I just added some new designs.” Mirabel twirls, allowing Vincent to see the skirt in full.

“Where are you from?” Luisa asks. She towers over all of the kids. Her muscular build would be something Johanna would fawn over.

“Arles. It’s in the south of France.”

“That’s over 8000 kilometers away!” she gasps.

A heavenly scent fills the room. Vincent follows it to another woman approaching, holding a pot. Her curly black hair is swept up in a bun.

“This is Julieta, my other sister. Her cooking can heal any injuries,” Bruno says. “Julieta, this is Vincent Van Gogh.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Julieta says, holding out a gloved hand. Vincent shakes it, startled by all the people. He’s never met a group with such colourful clothing before!

“Where did you come from?” Julieta asks.

“Arles, France.”

“That’s quite far. How did you get here?”

“I was just getting back from a long day of painting when I saw a door glowing in an alleyway. When I went to investigate it, I could hear people and animals inside. So I opened it and walked through and came here.

“That must have been the door in the hill where the animals saw you come out!” Antonio cries.

“What happened to the door?” Mirabel asks.

“When I turned around, the door was gone.”

The Madrigals glance at each other nervously.

Mirabel holds up her hand. “Family meeting!”

While the Madrigals huddle in Dolores’ sound proof room, Vincent stays in the courtyard, entertained by Casita. The painter has never seen a house juggle before.

“So… what do you guys think? Should we let him stay?”

“Well, now that you’ve invited him, it’s not like we can just throw him out into the streets.”

“Besides, he came from a magic portal. We can’t send him back either. We’ll have to wait for the Miracle to find him another way home.”

“All in favour of letting Vincent stay, say I.”

“I!” twelve voices echo.

Casita conjures up a guest room with a reasonably sized window for Vincent to look out. As soon as he sees the view, Vincent requests another canvas and immediately begins painting. Bruno can’t wait to see the result.

He also can’t wait to get to his vision cave. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something important, significant, influential about Vincent. His artwork feels familiar, and Bruno knows his Gift can help him solve the mystery. The seer flies through his room and into his vision cave, taking the steps (which have thankfully lessened dramatically) two at a time.

Surrounded by sand, salt tossed and match lit, Bruno begins to search for Vincent Van Gogh’s future.

Bruno is the first person Vincent sees in the morning. Grinning, he holds up the finished artwork of his view of the Encanto. The clouds and sunset have never looked so vibrant before, the colourful houses below compliment the beautiful sky.

“You like it? You can keep it if you do! I have so much art in my flat, it’s kind of a problem. I really need to find new homes for them…”

Vincent looks up from his work to see his host’s eyes red and puffy. Without saying a single word, Bruno throws his arms around the shocked painter.

“Bruno? Are you okay?”

Bruno simply hugs him tighter.

Unsettled, Vincent decides to paint in the courtyard of the lovely house. Just before he begins pouring his paint, he notices the kids approach him, all holding painting gear. His stomach drops. They’re not going to-

“Is it ok if we join your painting session?” the girl with the colourful dress asks. “We saw you sitting alone and well, we just thought a good way to get to know our guest is through his favorite activity!”

Vincent freezes. He prefers painting alone, when no one can judge him or tell him how to paint or-

“We’ll be as quiet as possible! We just thought it would be fun,” the tallest girl says. The rest nod, smiles nervous but… honest.

Vincent nods and gestures to the floor, hoping it doesn’t come off as curt. He jumps when the tiles on the floor suddenly move, rolling chairs, easels, and a large table their way. He’s never going to get used to that.

“Alright guys, let’s do it!” the first girl says, setting her painting supplies down. Vincent fakes a smile as the rest of the kids file in.

“Mirabel and Antonio are coming soon,” a girl with a red headband says to Vincent. “Tío Bruno as well, but first he needs to see Julieta because of a headache.” Vincent nods, puzzled. How does she know that? Wait, what’s her name again?

Vincent studies the people around him, trying to remember Bruno’s rapid fire introductions from yesterday. Isabela has the colourful dress, Louise(?) is really tall and muscular, Dora(?) has the red headband. There's also a teenaged boy wearing an orange poncho, or ruana, as Vincent has been informed. He’s already forgotten that kid’s name.

The painter relaxes a little when he sees Mirabel and Antonio (frankly the more approachable kids of the youth) show up. He stops relaxing when he sees what Antonio is riding on. Christ, he’s never seen a cat that big!

“What- what’s that?” he stammers, pointing a shaking finger at the giant cat with razor teeth.

Antonio looks down at his ride. “This is Parce! He’s a jaguar, and he’s one of my best friends!”

“And your parents are okay with this?” Vincent squeaks. Antonio nods happily.

“I can talk to animals! They all love me!” That checks out. Vincent keeps forgetting about the magic part.

“So… I’m guessing you all have magic too?” Vincent asks.

“Yeah! Luisa has super strength!” the teenaged boy says, pointing to the tall girl. To demonstrate, Luisa lifts up the table with one hand. One. Vincent’s jaw drops. That’s why she’s so muscular! Johanna would love this girl.

“Dolores can hear anything from miles away!” Isabela says, pointing to the girl with the red headband. The girl in question suddenly perks her head up and smiles.

“It seems Tía Julieta is baking a treat for us.” Right on queue, Vincent begins to smell something delectable wafting from the kitchen. Incroyable!

“Isabela can grow any plant at will,” Mirabel says. Isabela waves her hand and a bouquet of sunflowers appears in her hand. She hands them to a stunned Vincent.

“And Camilo can shapeshift into anyone!” Mirabel exclaims, pointing to the teenaged boy. So that’s his name!

Camilo gets up and twirls. In seconds, he transforms into Vincent. The painter gawks at his own clone smiling back at him, though he thinks the smile would suit Gauguin more. Paul always has a smug smile.

“Tía Pepa can control the weather with her mood,” Luisa continues. “And our mamá, Julieta, can heal people with her cooking!”

Vincent realizes one kid hasn’t shown off yet. “What about you? What’s your power?” he asks Mirabel.

Mirabel shrugs. “I don’t have a Gift.”

“She’s our Miracle holder,” Dolores says.

“She keeps us sane,” Camilo adds.

“She’s the heart of this family,” Isabela concludes. Mirabel blushes with pride.

“And what about Bruno? You haven’t mentioned him.”

“Tío Bruno can see the future!” Mirabel says.

The future? As in, what’s to come? Or what could be? Could this explain why Bruno was crying when he saw Vincent this morning?

“Is that why he looked sad to see me? He was so happy when I came to stay, but when I saw him last, he was crying,” Vincent explains. The children exchange worried glances.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about!” Mirabel hastily says. “Why don’t you show us your talent?”

The Madrigal begin pulling out their art supplies, waiting eagerly for the painter to begin. Eyeing them all suspiciously, Vincent resumes pouring paint onto his pallette.

Vincent decides to do a portrait of Parce, the jaguar lying by Antonio’s side. He begins sketching the outline.

“How long have you been in painting, Señor Van Gogh?” Dolores asks.

“Almost seven years,” Vincent answers.

“What do you usually paint?”

“Whatever I feel like. Which right now is the giant cat and his fascinating pattern.”

“He’s a jaguar. They’re great swimmers and they can kill with just one bite!” Antonio says.

Vincent dares a peek at Parce, who winks at him. The Dutchman gulps and ducks behind his painting.

Bruno suddenly runs in, carrying his painting equipment and a tray of something that smells devine. “Sorry! Sorry! Got held up with Julieta. Anyone care for some carimiñola?”

Half the snacks are gone in seconds. Vincent quickly grabs one before they disappear entirely. He takes a bite.

All of his senses ignite at once. His skin has cleared, his crops are thriving- He’s found Heaven in this little treat! It’s as if the chef has made it specifically for him. They aren’t kidding when they say Julieta’s cooking is magical!

Bruno chuckles as Vincent begins snatching more for himself. “Julieta has some more left over if needed. Quite the chef, isn’t she?”

“This is magique! Remind me to get the recipe before I go home,” Vincent exclaims between bites. “Also, send my compliments to her.”

“Will do.”

After eating at least three more of the carimiñolas, Vincent continues painting. The rest of the Madrigals contentedly paint beside him, most of them humming or whistling to themselves as they work. Another thing Vincent has learned about the Madrigals: they’re very musical.

Theo and Johanna would love Encanto. Theo would be amazed by all the artwork here. The weather would do wonders for his health. And the Madrigals! Johanna would consider the Madrigal women her sisters. Theo could chat with the husbands for hours… probably about how much they love their wives. The thought makes Vincent chuckle to himself.

Hours pass. As Vincent finishes his work, the Madrigals begin showing off their paintings. Isabela has painted a cactus with a large orange flower on it. Dolores painted a guitar with little swirly designs on them. Luisa shyly presents the lovely unicorn she drew, mumbling how art isn’t her strong suit. Vincent has to admit, he’s envious of the way she paints equidae. Mirabel shows off a giant butterfly with rainbow wings, while Antonio shares an adorable picture of Bruno’s pet rats. There’s at least fifty rats on that paper, just how many does Bruno own?!

“Camilo, you haven’t shared your artwork yet,” Mirabel points out. The teenager ducks his head, canvas facing his chest.

“It’s… uh… still ongoing,” he mumbles.

“I’m sure it’s fine, just show us already!” Isabela urges.

Camilo reluctantly turns his canvas around. The group stares at the photo, stunned by the results.

Mirabel finds her voice first. “How lovely! It’s a… is it El Mohán?”

“It’s a chicken. Screaming,” Camilo admits. “It’s from the chicken incident, remember?”

The Madrigals begin nodding and smiling. Apprently that’s a story.

Vincent ducks behind his own canvas to keep Camilo from seeing his amused smile. He really hopes the kid doesn’t want to make a career out of art. Oh god, the other painters would be appalled if they saw that. Gaugin would never let the poor boy hear the end of it.

“It’s bad isn’t it?” Camilo wails. “I can’t draw at all!”

“No kidding…” Bruno mutters a little too loudly. Mirabel shoots him a glare while Vincent giggles behind his artwork.

Camilo scowls and stands to face the snickering painter. “My art is very amusing, isn’t it? Why don’t you show us what you made, Señor Van Gogh?!”

Vincent, still chuckling a little, shoots the teen a smug smile and turns his painting around. Camilo immediately sits back down, gawking and stuttering. Vincent’s smile widens.

“I’ve never seen Parce so colourful before!” Antonio squeals. Parce roars in agreement.

“Look at all those colours!” Isabela and Mirabel gush.

“It’s so pretty!” Dolores sighs.

“You’re such a gifted painter!” Luisa exclaims.

Vincent blushes from all the compliments. He’s surprised it made such a hit with this crowd. The other artists would be whining about the bright colours, the Madrigals adore it. Maybe it’s a cultural thing?

Vincent hands the painting to Antonio. “Consider this a little gift.” The child gasps with excitement, warming the painter’s heart.

“Thank you, señor!”

At last, Bruno presents his artwork. It’s of two anthropomorphic rats in masks, one black with a red spider on its shirt, the other wearing a similar outfit, only white with hints of pink and black.

“What is that?” Vincent asks.

“It’s a scene from a movie about people who share magical spider powers! We’re gonna watch it tonight!” Bruno explains.

None of those words are in any religious writings. As far as Vincent knows. “What’s a movie?”

“It’s a thing in the future, it’s where… art moves on futuristic… canvases?” Bruno trails off, words failing him. Vincent looks even more lost.

“Could you show me these ‘movies’ with your Gift? Maybe I’ll understand then,” Vincent finally says.

Bruno’s smile disappears. “You… want to see my Gift?”

“You’re the only one whose Gift I haven’t seen yet, of course I want to!”

Bruno glances at the kids, who nod and motion to Vincent. The prophet turns back to the artist, forcing a smile. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

But first, Antonio wants Vincent to help him hang up the “Portrait of Parce”. Bruno silently thanks his sobrino for the extra minutes as he paces back and forth in his room, fidgeting with his ruana. The rats watch their master warily, some crawling to him for comfort. Bruno smiles and picks one up, stroking her back.

The door suddenly opens and Bruno nearly drops the poor rat in surprise. He sets the rat down and turns to see Mirabel.

“Tío? Is everything ok?”

Bruno whines wordlessly and flops face first into the sand. Mirabel crouches beside him and puts her hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t need to worry! Vincent has seen so much weird stuff by now, I’m sure your Gift will look normal compared to everything else!”

Bruno lifts his head up. “It’s not that I’m worried about. I… I saw his future. And I don’t want him to see it.”

Mirabel frowns. “Right… he did ask about that before you showed up.”

Bruno squeaks. “He did?”

“Yeah. He said you were crying. What did you see?”

Bruno hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “He’s been through a lot. Everyone thinks he’s odd, and his paintings aren’t selling. He barely has any friends.”

Mirabel hums to herself in thought. She finally says, “He kind of reminds me of you.”

Bruno scoffs lightly and gently elbows her. “How dare you? I have tons of friends. Human friends, that is!” That’s actually not true, but he hopes Mirabel will humour him.

“You and the town didn’t always see eye to eye, but look at you now! You’re loved and respected in the Encanto! I’m sure it will be the same for him!”

Bruno chuckles sadly. “It’s… it’s not the same where he’s from. It can’t be solved that easily.”

Mirabel huffs. “Well, there has to be something good coming his way! You need to look for the butterfly! Like you did with my future! Surely one nice thing appeared when you looked into his future!”

Bruno ponders this silently, picking at his ruana. He suddenly lights up.

“Actually… there is. It’s the reason I looked into his future in the first place! Gracias, Mirabel!”

“So how will this work? Will there be smoke? I’ve got some matches! Do I need to close my eyes? Are there cards involved?” Vincent’s questions are endless as he takes a seat in Bruno’s vision cave. Bruno sits across from him, slightly unnerved by how talkative the painter has become. And to think he didn’t even want to talk to Bruno when they first met!

“You just need to stay inside the circle I made,” Bruno says. “Also be careful of the flying sand. It lets you see my visions, but it also can get into your hair and clothes.”

Vincent shrugs. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s also going to get very windy.”

“Again, not an issue. I’ve painted in the rain plenty of times, the wind is nothing.”

“How strong is your immune system?”

“Very, now can we please begin?”

Bruno strikes a match and lights up the four leaf piles. He takes a deep breath. Look for the butterfly. Vincent watches with wide eyes.

The wind begins to pick up the sand. The room gently shakes as Bruno’s Gift awakens. Bruno feels his eyes glow and opens them.

“You might want to hang on,” he says, holding out his hands. An amazed Vincent takes them, his own hands trembling.

“Are you okay?” Bruno asks.

“Just shaking with excitement, I think,” Vincent says, gripping Bruno’s hands tightly. “Keep going.”

The sand swirls around them, creating a large bubble that envelops the gentlemen. Vincent gasps as bright green grains of sand begin forming images.

“This is what a movie looks like!” Bruno yells. Vincent watches with anticipation as the outline of a rectangle appears, the images inside moving as people below the screen watch.

“First they show them in these giant theatres before putting the movies on smaller vinyls for people to see whenever they want!” Bruno explains.

“That’s wonderful! Thank you for showing me!” Vincent says.

“While we’re here, there’s something else I wanted to show you!” Bruno exclaims.

“There is?”

“Your future!” Bruno closes his eyes in concentration, willing the good images to come to him. When he opens them, he feels a sense of relief rush through him.

Vincent watches as multiple versions of him appear, each one deeply engrossed in painting. Man, he really needs to fix his posture. When he looks closer, he recognizes a few paintings, but the rest are new to him.

The paintings then float together, each one receiving a fancy frame before lining up side by side. A ribbon holds back what seems to be crowds of people staring at the art. Vincent’s art.

“Thousands of people will come each day to see your art!” Bruno explains. “I’ve always wondered why your art looked so familiar, now I know. I’ve seen it before. These are revolutionary!”

Vincent stares at Bruno incredulously. “Are you sure it isn’t someone else’s art?”

“That was you painting all of them, right? I promise your paintings are going to change lives! People will come from far and wide to see them, inspired by your determination and passion. You’re quite the artist, Vincent Van Gogh.”

A slab of green glass materializes in front of the two men. Bruno takes it and uses it to shield them from the falling sand. He brushes off the last few grains and shows it to Vincent. The picture depicts a lovely view of Vincent’s art, hung up for people to see. The painting in the middle catches Vincent’s eye, one of a starry night over a town.

Bruno rubs his temples, blinking away any red spots in his view. When his vision finally clears, he’s surprised to see the artist wiping away a few tears, still gazing at the piece. Bruno gulps. Did he overwhelm the poor man?

“Did you get sand in your eye? Was it too much?!”

Without saying a single word, Vincent throws his arms around the shocked prophet.

“Vincent? Are you okay?”

Vincent simply hugs him tighter.

Mirabel is jolted awake when the door to Bruno’s room opens, tipping her over. She falls flat on her face. She feels a hand pull up her by the arm.

“Sorry, I didn't realize you were here.” It’s Vincent. When she pushes her glasses back up to see him, she’s surprised to see them glistening with tears. Her stomach plummets.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Bruno appears behind Vincent, his smile bright, but his eyes rather red. “It’s fine, Mirabel. I think Vincent just needs some time alone.”

Mirabel nods and lets the artist pass. She watches him slowly walk to his room, clutching the emerald tablet in his arms.

Bruno gives Mirabel a hug. “Thanks for the advice, kid. I think he really needed to see that.”

He pulls away from the hug, stumbling. Mirabel grabs his arms to help steady him.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m getting too old for double visions. I’m going to take a nap.” Bruno hobbles back into his room, the door shutting behind him.

“I will never understand artists.” Mirabel turns around to see Camilo leaning on the rail of the mezzanine.

“Camilo, you’re an actor. Isn’t that technically an art?”

“There’s a difference, prima.”

“No there isn’t.”

Bruno sees the door first, shimmering and glowing. The doorknob has an encrusted “V” written on. He calls for Vincent.

The prophet and the painter work together to get Vincent’s stuff packed up for him, while Mirabel wraps the vision tablet up in a spare blanket so it doesn’t get destroyed. Included is the recipe for her mother’s carimiñolas.

Vincent holds his painting of the Encanto. “Before I leave, I want you to have this. I don’t have any currency on me, so I hope you’ll take a painting as payment for letting me in.”

Mirabel excitedly takes the artwork. “Gracias! We’ll definitely have to find a nice place for this!” She throws her arms around Vincent. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Señor Van Gogh.”

“It was a pleasure staying here,” Vincent says. Mirabel runs off to hang up the art. She turns back and winks to Bruno.

Vincent turns back to Bruno, smiling. “I’ll miss seeing you every day. It’s not everyday I meet someone as kind as you.”

The compliment makes Bruno flush. “I’ll miss you as well. I’m… so honoured we got to meet. I don’t think I’ll ever meet a friend like you again.”

The painter pulls his friend in for a hug one last time. He feels Bruno’s arms wrap around him. He’s quite certain he’ll never feel the warm embrace of a friendship like this again. He’s never felt so seen before.

Bruno has never felt so seen, so connected before. He almost doesn’t want to let go, feeling a bit colder as Vincent pulls away. He never knew friends like Vincent could do that to him.

Vincent glances at the door. “So… do I just… touch the doorknob?”

“That usually does the trick,” Bruno advises.

Vincent apprehensively touches the doorknob. The glow of the door brightens, brightens, forcing Vincent to shut his eyes. When he opens them, an image of him has been carved onto the door, the outline sparkling with magic. The figure holds a paintbrush and a pallette, reaching up to touch the dancing stars. He gasps.

“Looks like you’re part of this family now,” Bruno says. “Goodbye, Vincent Van Gogh. I hope we cross paths again!”

“We’ll meet again! I promise! ” Vincent says. He opens the door and walks through.

Vincent lugs his gear through the door and right into his brother’s house. How convenient. The door closes behind him and the beautiful glow disappears. Vincent smiles sadly. He’ll miss Bruno.

His thoughts are interrupted by someone running downstairs and into the front hallway. It’s Theo! Immediately Vincent is tackled by his younger brother in a hug. He’s been hugged a lot recently. Vincent happily returns it.

“Hello, brother!”

“You’re here! Oh thank God, I was so worried!” Theo exclaims.

“What?”

Theo pulls out of the hug and begins checking Vincent for injuries. “Where were you, Vincent? Paul wrote to us and said he hasn’t seen you for four days! You couldn’t be found! What happened to you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I feel great, actually!” Vincent responds. “A family looked after me.”

“I’ll be sure to send them my thanks,” Theo says. “Where was this family? In a different country?!”

That’s not far from the truth. “They live…” Vincent trails off. There’s no logical way to explain where he’s been, or even how he got there. Even if he did try, what if someone heard him? Arles would have even more to say against the artist. He shakes his head.

“It’s a long story… But I did get a new recipe I want you and Jo to try-”

Right on cue, Johanna appears from around the corner and runs to hug Vincent.

“There you are! I’m so glad you’re back, Vincent!” she cries. “Where were you?”

“Like I told your husband, it’s really complicated-”

“Why don’t you stay at our place for the night, then you can head back to Arles!” Jo immediately begins dragging her brother-in-law to the couch.

“Can I unpack first? I need to find a place for my stuff-.”

“No worries, there’s a free bedroom at the end of the hall!”

As they organize the free room, Vincent unwraps the vision tablet on his bed. Where could he keep this?

“Oh my goodness! That’s a gorgeous piece of art!” Theo exclaims. “Who made that?”

“My friend Bruno,” Vincent says. “It’s a… talent of his.”

“Then we’ll definitely have to find somewhere to hang it up,” Theo says. “He’s very talented.”

“He’s Gifted,” Vincent agrees. “And a great friend.”

“How come you never told us Vincent was a famous artist?!” Camilo whines. “It would have been nice to know that before I showed him a drawing of a screaming chicken!”

“You never asked, kid,” Bruno says with a chuckle. “Besides, he’s not famous yet, I don’t think. You still have time to right your wrongs.”

Camilo faints onto the couch, howling dramatically.

“This is amazing! I knew he had a Gift for painting, but this is exquisite!” Mirabel says, studying the painting. After much deliberation, the Madrigal family decided to hang it up in the mezzanine, where anyone passing by could be reminded of their friend. “And he really drew this from a view in his window?” Bruno nods.

“I can’t believe we got to meet an internationally celebrated painter!” Isabela gushes. “I the Miracle will let us meet him again.”

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” Bruno says. “He promised we would.”

Camilo sits up. “Oh yeah? What gives you the idea he’ll somehow magically appear again?”

Bruno winks. “20-20 vision.”

#bruno madrigal #mirabel madrigal #disney encanto #wdtajn #vincent van gogh #starry musical #encanto fanfiction #apparently i can write

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