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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months

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Would you lie with me? | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader

Summary -> After a mission Bucky comes into your room to see you watching the raindrops at the window. The two of you decide to go out to enjoy the warm summer rain there.

Wordcount -> 2.1k

Warnings -> (G) none, just fluff

A/N -> The Oneshot is dedicated and a surprise for @imtryingbuck. I hope you like it and I just want to tell you I LOVE YOU, BESTIE. Thank you for always being there when I need you and being so supportive. It really means a lot and I appreciate you so much.❤️❤️ Divider made by @firefly-graphics , aesthetics: @sergeantbarnessdoll

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The rain slowly makes its way down the window. It's been raining all day, but you like to just sit there and look at the raindrops falling down. The quiet sound of them hitting the floor makes you smile, and you enjoy the moment of the rain and the sound of it.

When someone knocks at your door, you turn away from your window, the blanket still tight around your body, while you shout a soft “yes?” in the direction of the door. The one outside the room opens the door, and you’re greeted by the big and lovely smile of your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes.

“Bucky,” you say happily.

His smile grows when he hears the excitement in your voice. Bucky's already beautiful blue eyes brighten even more when he closes the door and walks towards you until he reaches your bed and lets himself fall down on the edge of it. Now he is just a few inches away from you.

“Hey, doll. I thought I wanted to look after my best girl when I'm home from the mission, and here I am,” he says, his hand reaching to place it on your thigh.

You giggle softly about his words. Bucky always calls you ‘doll’ or ‘his best girl’ and he only calls you like that. When you first met him, you immediately knew he was your best friend. They told you Bucky isn’t really the one who talks much, but when you two are alone, he is the most talkative person you know. His laugh is the most beautiful you have ever heard, and the way he looks at you whenever you tell him about something makes your knees weak.

“How was your mission?”

“It was good, but I prefer being back at the compound because it means I can spend as much time with you as we want.”

You blush, your hand making its way from under your blanket to place it on his, and you stroke your thumb over his strong arm. Your eyes are piercing in his, and you are slowly getting lost. Everything feels so easy; there are no problems around you right now. You feel so much stronger when you just look into his eyes. Every fear and every negative thought is so far away that you feel like he is building walls around you to make sure they will never bother you.

After a moment, you’re just going to get lost in the depths of his eyes. You start to sing your favorite song, not really recognizing that you do. But it’s the song you and Bucky have decided to be “your song,” and whenever you’re around him, you have that song stuck in your mind, and like that, you just start singing it. Bucky’s grin grows when he hears the melody and words of the lyrics.

“We’ll do it all. Everything. On our own.”

When you sang the line the first time, Bucky made sure to tell you in every way possible that you’re never alone because he will be by your side whenever you need him. He found the most meaningful words someone could find to underline how much he means what he says. He never wanted to be so close to someone before; you’re the one he wants to be with whenever he can. With you around him, he feels like he is needed and loved by someone who understands him without words. And then one is you, his doll.

“We don’t need. Anything. Or Anyone.”

The two of you need just one another. There is nothing that makes you uncomfortable around him; you both can laugh together; he will comfort you whenever you need comfort; and he knows you do the same for him. Whenever he has a nightmare, he knows he can come into your room - when he isn’t already sleeping there - and talk to you. You would stay up all night for him, as long as he felt safe and comfortable. And he does the same, or whenever you get your period, he makes sure to have all you want to eat there, laying in bed with you, watching your favorite movies, and comforting you whenever your mood changes.

“If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

You could sit there, lay there with Bucky underneath, or have him next to you. His arms are tight around you while you feel the warmth of his body. The way he kisses your forehead whenever you look up at him and the smile on his lips are so soft that you would like to feel and see this all the time. He looks at you almost the whole time when the two of you watch a movie. Bucky just can’t get his eyes off you, especially when you smile or laugh about something. He would love to just capture your cheeks and press his lips on yours, making you his even when you’re already his doll.

“I don’t quite know. How to say. Or how to feel.”

The thought of you being with someone who isn’t Bucky makes him almost throw up. He wants to be the only one who is the reason for your big smile, your brightening eyes, and your beautiful laugh. Bucky would like to be the one who kisses you, holds you close, and cuddles you until you fall asleep. He would like to be the one who kisses your face to wake you up in the most beautiful way you can imagine. Little did he know that you feel the same way he feels for you, but he doesn’t want things to be awkward between the two of you.

“Those three words. Are said too much. They are not enough.”

Bucky is scared of telling you those special three words in the way he wants to tell you. You often tell each other that you love the other one, but he would love to tell you that he loves you. Like you’re the one and only for him; you belong to him, and he can show everything how gorgeous and beautiful his girlfriend is. Like he can tell everyone that you’re going to become his wife and that you carry the kids of the two of you in your pretty belly.

“Forget what we're told. Before we get too old. Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.”

The words are burning on his tongue, and whenever he is around you, Bucky feels like he just tells you all about the way he feels for you. The way he is so in love with you that he feels like he can’t think straight, everything in his mind is you. Whenever you touch him, he has a feeling of butterflies going wild in his stomach, and the spot where your skin is touching his, even when it’s just through the fabric of your clothes, feels like it’s all tingling, and he loves the feeling because he only has it when he is around the person he loves.

“Doll?” Bucky asks softly.

You blink and recognize that you are singing, stopping before you give him your full attention.

“Mhm?”

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do. I trust you, Bucky,” you say, capturing his cheeks, and the two of you get lost in the moment for a second.

The urge to just lean forward and kiss one another is growing with every second you’re so close. But neither you nor Bucky break the distance between your lips, so scared the other could think it’s awkward. He clears his throat and smiles then.

“Let’s go outside.”

Your smile grows when you understand his plan. You slide the blanket down your body and let him take your hand to lead you through your room and then through the corridors of the building.

When he opens the door and the two of you walk outside, you feel the warm rain soaking your clothes immediately. With Bucky’s hand still in yours, you walk a few steps further away from the building. You tilt your head and close your eyes, letting the rain fall on your face and slowly sliding along your skin. Bucky stands next to you, his smile on his face from one side to the other, while his eyes are focused on you and the raindrops on your soft skin.

“Let’s waste time. Chasing cars. Around our heads,” Bucky sings, making you look at him and see his beautiful face.

His hands find your hips, and he pulls you closer. You wrap your arms around his neck. Bucky holds you tight against him, and when you place your head against his muscular chest, you inhale your favorite smell. Your best friend, the one you love so much. Bucky is the one who is definitely more than just a best friend for you, and he feels and thinks the same way about you.

“I need your grace. To remind me. To find my own.”

Your voices fit perfectly together, and the melody matches like the two of you do. It’s just the two of you, singing in the rain, standing as close as possible while you’re just around each other. With your song, with your love, you and him. With him, you’re feeling completely like every missing piece has found its way and its place, and now you’re complete with him by your side.

When you slowly pull away, Bucky looks at you, opens his eyes, and frowns softly.

“What’s going on in your beautiful mind, doll?”

You could melt when he calls you that. It’s a nickname, like every nickname, right? As much as you tried to tell yourself that it’s still special for you when he calls you by the nickname. When he calls you his best girl, his doll. Like you belong to him, like you’re his and he is yours.

You just smile and sit down on the ground, pulling him with you. When he sits next to you, he groans playfully because of his wet ass, but it causes you both just to laugh before you let yourself softly fall backwards until you lay, and he does the same. Bucky lays next to you, his hand looking for yours, while your feet and shoulders are touching each other. The grin on your face probably competes with the Cheshire Cat, but that doesn't matter. Because no one except Bucky - who is the reason for you being happy like that - can see you right now.

“All that I am. All that I ever was. Is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see.”

Bucky turns his head around, facing you the moment you turn your head towards him as well. He suddenly looks so shy that you want to kiss his pretty, soft lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He chuckles about your cuteness.

“No, doll. I love you.”

“Yes, Bucky. I love you too.”

Now it’s on you to giggle when his expression changes between shy and confused, and then your favorite smile appears on his lips. He gets it; he gets that you love him. Not like a friend, not like your best friend. No, you love him the same way he loves you. Like you belong together, and the things he just dreamed about have yet to come true. You love him. His plans he made whenever you were together can become reality at some point, and he finally doesn’t have to hide his feelings for you anymore.

“I don’t know where. Confused about how as well. Just know that these things will never change for us at all.”

Even when you sing the line, you know that you’re definitely not confused about anything right now. With Bucky's hand in yours and his body so close to yours, you can feel his warmth. Just the two of you in the warm summer rain, laying on the floor, knowing you belong to one another now and that the love you tried to keep a secret is shared between you and Bucky now.

“If I lay here.”

“If I just lay here.”

“Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

“Of course, my precious doll,” Bucky says, pushing himself up and leaning closer to capture your lips for a soft but passionate kiss. Your hands are still holding one another’s hand while he grabs your waist to hold himself above you and be as close as possible while you share the sweetest first kiss with your love.

Taglist: @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nicoline1998enilocin @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @harleycao @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

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scribble-dribble-writes · 11 months

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I have a request!! Y/N being sent on a mission by Miguel, them being gone for hours and not getting back at him makes Miguel check in on u over Layla & she has to him that they got hurt. A feral/worried Miguel going in for the rescue of a badly injured Y/N, taking care of their wounds and staying by their side. Once they regain consciousness -> lots of apologies and fluff/tenderness would be awesome!!

Thank u for reading this request of madness 🙈 x

Hi anon! Thanks for the request, I had to write it the moment I read it. GAH SOFT FERAL MIGUEL HAS ME IN A HOLD.

I hope you like this 💖💖💖

---

Unsaid words

"LYLA", he called for his assistant.

His eyes glued to the monitor, looking through street footage and maps. His eyes now awake with the thirst of knowing where you were. Your location marker turned offline and he drew a sharp breath. Something was wrong, his mind coming up scenarios that he wasn't very fond of.

"Where is she?", he asked next. His fingers turning into claws that bit into the top of his table.

He was impatient. No. He was worried.

He had stayed numb, not getting close enough to miss anyone but you, his heart began to race, you were special.

"I can't find here active data but it's certain that she's hurt.", LYLA responded. Instantly, he pushed away from his desk, he had to find you.

His suit covered his head with his mask, his claws now fully out as he had only one goal in his mind.

He turned his gadget to the universe you were sent to and jumped into the portal, he couldn't wait for it to open, he shouldn't have sent you alone, thoughts and feelings he had kept hidden were now rising to the surface. He struck his blade into the time fabric tearing it open.

Cold rain greeted him, covering the world he entered in a goulish green. A sign that the anomaly here would be one of the Doc Oc variants. And just as he had though it, he saw a silhouette with tentacled arms climb up a building. In one of its arms, he caught sight of the colour of your suit.

Anger rushed into his system, one mixed with the overwhelming need to protect you. He hadn't felt that in a long time, since he lost his universe. The tip of his tongue felt the sharp end of his fangs bearing out at the thought of losing you.

He didn't waste a second, his eyes were locked on his target.

You grappled against the cold metal that wrapped around your throat. Your feet dangling over the dark city. It was getting hard to breathe and in the state you were in, you were certain that if you were dropped from this height, it would be fatal.

The mask you wore was torn in half, allowing you to witness the sheer force of an object that slammed into the anomaly. Red blades gleamed against the eerie moon as clawed hands tore away a couple metal arms. You could recognize him anywhere. His large back over powering the anomaly as he slammed Doc Oc's face into the glass facade of the building. Over and over, he wasn't like himself, you had never seen him this triggered.

The anomaly lost consciousness and the red eyes in the tentacles flickered out, the grip around your neck easing. Fear filled your system, your eyes widening at what this meant, you clawed against the metal now to hold on, to not slip. But the rain made it difficult, the glass panes were too smooth, it made it impossible for you to catch onto any surface. You pressed into your web shooters only to for it to confirm with a hiss that it was broken.

It was all in slow motion, your body feeling the pull of gravity, the anomaly tilting head back into a fall and the red slits on his mask turning to you, widening as he watched you fall.

Capturing the anomaly was what was important, that was the mission, not one could be killed in action as they had to be returned into their respective universe. Whereas, you, you were expendable, fallen soldiers in this war no one knew about.

So who was he going to save?

Was this another one of his canon events?

But something within you caused you to scream out his name, some stupid want to feel his arms around you again, one last time. And that was what changed everything.

With inhuman speed he secured the anomaly to a broken steel column and dove towards you. He looked like he owned the skies, his blades stretching out against him like his wings, a streak of black, red and blue.

He didn't use his web to catch you, afraid that it would end like a few Gwen Stacy deaths. He retracted his claws, and reached out for you.

His weight enabled him to reach you faster in mid air. You felt his arms circle you, press you deep into his chest as he braced for impact. He held you tight as you felt the smell of tarmac beneath you. He had saved you, even though it wasn't a part of the mission.

With your ear pressed into his suit, you could hear the ferocity with which his heart was beating. He pushed away quicking to inspect you, his thumb tracing over a scratch across your cheek making him grumble. As though you were his priced work of art and someone had defied him to hurt you.

"You came.", was all you could muster to say.

"Of course I would.", he spoke softly as he carried you in his arms.

Now this made you feel like you were untouchable by any force that ever existed. Nothing could be strong enough to pull you away from him.

"lo siento llegué tarde.", he drew closer to you as help arrived to clean up the scene.

"You were right on time.", you responded to ease his worry, which surprised you. He never worried about anyone in this way.

"Oh you've found her!", LYLA popped up next to him.

"He was losing his senses over at HQ.", she laughed.

"LYLA", he warned her.

"What?", she winked at you as she acted innocent.

"Leave us.", he ordered and she disappeared.

His gaze was on you, you could tell with how the eyes on his mask softened.

"I was afraid I might lose you.", he said quietly as he stroked your exposed jaw. His warm touch eradicated the biting cold sting of the rain.

"Where you?", you asked watching his mask unravel, exposing his nose and lips.

You could feel where this was heading, you craved it. But to see him nod to your question in a way that it was the absolute truth set your heart on fire. He had saved you, there was no grander gesture than that. It spoke more loudly than what he could put into words. He held the side of your face that your mask didn't cover, your left cheek, the tip of your nose and your lips.

He leaned down, his hot breath over your cheek sent your mind into an overdrive as he softly kissed you, a cliche. Maybe it was his canon event, the usual spidey kiss.

The pain in your body evaporated just for this second as you kissed him back. Your reaction causing him to pull you closer, as though it was a confirmation. Your intuition in tune with what he was feeling, unsaid words could remain unsaid. Instead he spoke with his hands and a racing pulse in his throat.

He pulled away, his lips now spread out in a smile as the suit engulfed his face again.

"Let's get you cleaned up first and then continue this later.", he chuckled as he opened the portal.

Now that was a command you didn't mind obeying.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099

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thetempleofhades · 5 months

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hello my pookie wookie spookie dookie kitten bear i hope you are doing splendidly. i have a request of you my little pookie wokieie spookiie dookie 🥺🥺🥺 what would you think of making a part 2 of the wratg writing 🥺?? (on a serious note its so fuckinf fire and i want to devour it but theres not enough to eat)

my name is pookie wookie spookie dookie kitten bear now. i had to dig out my laptop for this so fast so yes, i can give you a part two my beloved muah muah <333

It had been a month since the day you disappeared from the three archons' view but the storms persisted. Relentless winds that knocked over stalls and people alike. Rain that turned into thunderstorms, that then turned into hail. It was clear your rage was still ever-present and Teyvat was responding to your rage as the creation most connected to you.

You'd spent most of your time holed inside a cave as you slwoly cooked things you had picked during the slow times, just to be sure you'd never run into anyone but you knew it was only a matter of time before someone found you.

Of course, having to see Venti again was on the bottom of you list of things you wanted to see. Seeing him kneel before you, tears in his eyes only made the rain turn into hail as you stared coldly.

"Your grace, please forgive me. I.... committed a grave injustice against you." He sounded as tearful as he looked but you could only concentrate on your rage.

"You consider hunting someone down like an animal for the slaughter an injustice? I consider that inhumane, unforgivable, a crime is the least I consider it. At most, I consider it a testament of the hate you hold for me." Your words are angry but you face remains neutral as you stare at him coldly.

Books, Ancient texts and tales all recounted about your kindness, about how you would create things in order to bring happiness to your creations. But you had been so hurt, so betrayed, so.... so exhausted that all you could feel was your own rage.

"NO!" Venti protested in a panicked tone, scrambling up from his kneeling position to somehow convince you. "I could never-! Your grace, I would never hate you... I was... I was misguided, I was wrong. I could never hate you."

"Whether you do or don't matters little to me. You hunted me for months in order to kill me. How many times did I plead with you in tears to listen to me, to not kill me? Dozens. I pleaded until I coughed up blood. I ran until my legs gave out. I bled gold once in front of you and suddenly, you're sorry?" Your rage was quiet even as the storm raged on outside.

"Barbatos...." Your voice was quiet, tinged with disappointment. "I don't recognize you anymore. You are no follower of mine. Nor are you my creation." Your words severed the connection that existed all throughout Teyvat, the one that connected you to all your creations and them to you.

You turned and walked away, ignoring his sobs of anguish.

#sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau venti #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #sagau x reader #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT NONNY I DID MY BEST AT LIKE 9:30 PM IN ABOUT HALF AN HOUR

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matan4il · 4 months

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Daily update post:

There was an independent terrorist attack in the Gush Etzion region today, 2 Palestinian terrorists fired at Israeli soldiers, didn't manage to injure anyone, and one of them was eliminated.

Barak Ayalon, a man in his 40's and his mother Mira, in her 70's, were murdered today, while the father, also in his 70's, was moderately injured due to Hezbollah shooting anti-tank missiles from Lebanon at a home in Kfar Yuval, a community in northern Israel.

This follows another incident that took place during the night, in the area of Har Dov (where I was stationed when I was doing my mandatory IDF service), 4 Hezbollah terrorists used the heavy rains, infiltrated Israel, fired at soldiers, injured 5 of them, and ended up being eliminated.

I think this is so important to understand that the IDF truly does its best not to harm civilians. Here's a compilation of moments when air strikes were aborted, when civilians were identified in the vicinity of the intended targets:

youtube

Today, the entire country of Israel is observing 100 days since Oct 7.

100 days since the start of this war that is costing so many lives every single day, and more than anything, 100 days since innocent civilians in Israel were attacked, abused, tortured and kidnapped to Gaza, where 136 continue to suffer in captivity. There is a 24 hour protest, many companies and organizations are striking today for 100 minutes, and in a Tel Aviv square that was re-named after the hostages, there is a model of a Hamas terror tunnel, that people can walk into, and stay in there for 100 seconds, to get an idea of how suffocating it is. When the model was opened, the families of the hostages visited it, and shared some of their thoughts on the walls.

On Oct 23, a Hamas rocket hit a kibbutz called Yad Mordechai, named after Mordechai Anilevich, the commander of Eyal, one of the two Jewish underground movements, which fought in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. The kibbutz is home to a Holocaust museum, one of the first in the world, and Hamas' rocket hit the gallery that recreates the command bunker of Mordechai Anilevich (you might be able to recognize the red bricks used in most of the Warsaw Ghetto):

As the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors, IDK if I can explain how this image is chilling to the bones.

This is Nassrin Yossef.

She and her husband Yiad are Druze, and originally from northern Israel. They fell in love with the people of a community called Yated in the south, and move there. On Oct 7, despite a broken leg, Yiad joins the community's emergency squad (which stopped some of the terrorists). Nassrin stays with their kids, and faces the terrorists who get to their house, which happens to be the closest to the border fence. She speaks to the terrorists in Arabic, and starts "interrogating" them, getting information about how many have infiltrated Yated, and where they are. She finds out some are hiding in the greenhouse found very close to her home. She passes the info on to the security forces, who take out 20 terrorists. The phone of one of these men rang, and Nassrin replied, said she's helping to hide the terrorists, so it's okay to share any info with her. She found out from the man on the line that there's a breach in the fence they're gonna enter through, and she translated everything for the Israeli officer. She said the way the man on the phone ended the call was, "Allah willing, we'll occupy Israel by tonight." The next day, Nassrin found out that while her actions and her husband's saved many in their community, the terrorists murdered two of her friends at the community of Kerem Shalom, and a Jewish neighbor and friend named Ido. "He was like a brother to me, his family like my family." Nassrin says she broke at that point. Yiad drove them out, and she recounts that the road was full of burned and shot cars with bodies still inside. She also says that, as scary as it is, Yated is their home and they'll return to it as soon as they can. Heroes.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Youtube

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solar-sunnyside-up · 9 months

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Hi there... I really love the idea of solarpunk but like. The "punk" part of it makes me so anxious. I think it's a vital part of the movement, but I can never imagine doing something like that myself.

If you have any small (tiny) tips or ideas on things I can do on a more personal level I would appreciate them. Everything seems so overwhelming and completely out of my wheelhouse and skill base

Hey ya 🌱 Sprout!! It can be hard to recognize, particularly in solarpunk, but your already punk and already doing praxis. I'm sure of it.

If you've ever pirated media, DIYed or mended clothes, have a rain barrel, spoke out against poor labor conditions, provided a safe space for anyone in an uncaring world even for a brief interaction- Your already punk!! Anyone who fights and gatekeeps that title from you bc of age, aesthics, or experience is a poser and a FED!!

That being said tho--

If you want to do more outrageous projects there's a few things I can recommend depending on how much you wanna do!!

Battlejacket- TBH the purpose of a battle jacket is to soothe this exact anxiety while also being a fun project and being a single to others!! There's many examples in both my Battlejacket tag and patch idea tag to get you started. You can get iron on patches/print paper that transfers pretty well if your not used to DIYing stuff. If this feels like to big if a step and is too much tho keep in mind you can make a battlejacket and not wear it outside right away. It's a second skin to make you feel and others feel safe, but it's also a big neon target on yourself depending on your environment and where you are. So it's ok to just make one and not wear it out until your ready!! (If you do this-- my only demand is you show me when you do it!! I want to see all of those kinda projects bc I'm obsessed with them)

Getting out there- If starting a guerilla gardening project or joining a community garden, or community association isn't an option for you- be that bc of accessibility/time/energy- I'd recommend starting to archive and getting out there! Inaturalist or falling fruit are awesome programs where you identify plants/animals/stuff outside in general. It gets you outside, your adding to a community which gets the feeling of a ball rolling building confidence and your praxis muscles!!

Root yourself in your community- This is a hard one if your busy/have low spoons/are introverted but I promise its worth doing even if you arent super active in those spaces! Even just researching the history of your town/city/neighborhood and seeing what programs are running can really connect you to the area. A lot of us due to the renting crisis never truly attach to our neighborhoods or are too busy to look into local artists. (Not your fault babes, its built to do that to feed monopolies) Pick even just 1 thing you care about (local artists, teashop, bands, libraries, community fridges, etc..) and find the closest thing to you and get obsessed. Being a regular in any space is an awesome feeling, its where you'll find friends, and you'll directly see any change you provide there.

Media archiving- There's a lot of ways of doing this one but just pirate the fuck out of everything!!!! Burn it to a physical copy, share it with your friends/family! Make mix dvds, burn movies/tv shows! Directly download youtube videos! Print off your fave fanfiction and bind them into books! Particularly with streaming services directly deleting content and getting rid of them entirely this is important work but its also just very fun!! Seeing my wall filled with dvds and books and objects makes my brain happy but also again, the physical exchange of handing the media you love to another person is so unique! Theres lots of guides and methods of doing this depending on the method and medium your using.

Utilizing public spaces- Loitering is a good one as well to push yourself and to interact with things IRL! Use your public libraries and parks excessively! Spend a weird amount of time at the mall not buying stuff! This might seem like a weird one, but its a long term thing. It shows that ppl are supposed to be out and about without spending money, but also many of these places (except the mall obvi) get funding based on usage so the more you use something the more likely they are to make it accessible to more ppl! It also makes it more normal for ppl who need to loiter to be in these spaces which again adds more accessibility. This is also one that might get you unwanted attention so decide your comfort and safety level. Pushing boundaries is good but do it at your own pace.

Vandalize! - Again we're ramping up a bit on risk levels but I recommend it, particularly bus stops or putting up posters. Bus stops is bc at least in my city they only maintenance them once they've been 'ruined' so its actually a cosmic positive to do it in these spaces. Posters are also good! Ive seen quite a few for tenant unions but also a handful of them that are food resources or call outs for police. This is mostly to have passive way to show solidarity or get a message across. But also like your doing art! Great stuff! Again tho this comes with risk if caught or if you dont know what your doing so start with baby steps (like using sharpie on an Ad you fucking hate or putting up a poster in a neutral space to get used to it)

Hopefully these tips get you started!

#solarpunk #praxis #punk #asks #hopepunk #ref #sprout #sprout guide #sleepover saturday

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seabysiren · 10 months

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rain down on me

summary: a solo mission gone wrong, you found yourself on the verge of death when something otherworldly unearths itself.

[venom!reader]

its silent in the forest. the frozen limbs upon dead bark rustle in the heavy wind as you squint through sheets upon sheets of snow. it would've been blinding had you not had goggles protecting your eyes.

your breath puffs out in silent clouds as you slowly trek through the snow, the crunch only reminding you of the limited time you had out here.

this was it.

the last mission you were ever going to go on. no more laughing with soap and pulling pranks with gaz. no more silent nights with the reassuring presence of your captain late at night. no more scratching pen on paper as the two of you silently fill out paperwork.

no more funny, not so funny, jokes with ghost and soap. or teasing gaz everytime he tried to pick someone up at the bar after a successful mission.

because you were alone. a mission just for you to retrieve hidden intel high into the permafrost of russia.

price trusted you.

the 141 trusted you.

laswell trusted you.

yet here you were in the frigid cold, numbly flexing your hands as you kept a watchful eye out for anyone. anything.

intel said there was supposed to be a base up here. but after days of aimlessly trekking through snow and higher up the mountain, everything felt hopeless.

you didn't have enough supplies to survive weeks. the frostbite would get to you before you found anything.

but still, you trekked on.

you silently counted each step in your head, your gun feeling aimlessly heavy against your body with each step.

one.

two.

one.

two.

the fatigue that shook your body was ignored. you ignored the deadly cold that wanted to lay waste in your bones and make its home deep in your ribcage.

breath in. breath out.

keep going.

there was no radio chatter. no buzzing noise in your ear or a low, raspy voice giving you hope with his shitty jokes and cues.

you were alone.

because this was a solo mission.

get in. get out.

you were the best survivalist in the team. the one who recognized anything and everything edible in forests. who hunted in the desert when supplies ran low and thirst ravished everyone. where the sun was high and you could feel your heartbeat.

because it was you or them. and there was no chance that the squadron would perish with you besides them.

hope bloomed in your chest when you laid your eyes on tracks. not the track of deer or foxes. not the cawing of crows and their beady eyes always watching.

human tracks.

you immediately hunched over, using the brush and snow to hide yourself as you began to follow with renewed energy.

the snow beneath you didn't even crunch as you moved with precision. you didn't hesitate to bury yourself in snow once you heard voices. the harsh accent of russian made you perk as you listened, faintly translating their voices.

"...the package arrives today-" "-make sure everything is ready for the doctor" "...no screw ups..."

you waited until their lingering stopped, their voices growing harsher once another group of soldiers came closer.

this was it.

you kept your gun close as you wadded closer to doom. you laid your eyes on the whole operation. stealth planes running on cleared runways, trucks marked with the infamous russian military logo.

soldiers marching and officers checking cargo.

and there it stood before you. the warehouse and science facility. you muttered to yourself before finding an adequate place to rest. there were too many people here to go in knee deep.

so you climbed the nearest ledge covered in foliage and dropped your bag. you quickly unfolded and donned the snow terrain ghillie suit and made a suitable place to lay in.

you sighed as you propped up your rifle. seems like you were going to be here awhile before figuring out a way to infiltrate without risking your life in broad daylight.

it was early. the snow was bleak and tinged a deep blue since the sun went down. everything was well lit as you watched shift after shift through the scope. you mentally noted any squadrons, the officers positions and the parked cargo and army trucks.

you watched as each patrol walked. watched as each person had roughly a two minute gap before the next person would take over. you knew every way the patrol would go, and where they would check.

finally.

this is it.

you took a deep breath before situating your rifle and hovering your hand over the trigger.

your fingertips were freezing beneath the gloves, and you were faintly aware of how numb your feet felt. but you shook it off. there was no time for weakness when you were so close to the finish line.

you narrowed your eyes and stopped your heart.

the trigger was light against your finger as you quickly shot, ignoring the sudden panic that exploded with each person who fell. the blood against the snow was refreshing as you quickly picked off everyone near the runway and within the open warehouse doors.

you had no time to watch them begin to scramble. now was the time, with your gun held safely in your arms you ran.

time was of the essence as you trekked and slid down narrow cliffs, further from the warehouse and closer to the facility.

there would be reinforcements within mere minutes of where you were. but you couldn't stop and panic. there was no way to hide, the only way you were going to survive was with speed and precision.

your boots slid across patches of ice as you heard voices and radio chatter come closer. you dove into the brush and buried yourself in the snow just in time to avoid the running soldiers who were eager to shed blood.

they were getting closer to the perch you were on. but the only thing they would know are the traps and mirrors you placed to mimic a sniper.

you stilled your breathe as you quickly nailed the closest patrol officer with the butt of your rifle, watching him go down as you snatched the badge from his belt.

good.

you were getting there.

you could barely think as your body went through the motions, swiftly turning corners with your rifle ready to dispatch anyone coming across your vision.

but it was almost empty of personnel. good. going all according to plan. everyone should've been drawn to sweep the surrounding areas and look for the possible sniper, while none the wiser that you were here.

because all the important files were in the warehouse. no one would've suspected you were going after the classified files in the facility. of the latest biological weapons that were being produced in the middle of nowhere.

you busted down doors and sweaped offices and labs. bodies fell, blood spilt, glass shattered.

you finally got to the final ward. the testing facility.

your body was hot. the drastic change in freezing temperature to the sudden warmth was wreaking havoc on your body. it made your vision fog as you ripped your goggles down your face, hanging only by a strap wrapped around your neck.

your fingers and feet felt like they were on fire. yet your steps were swift and steady as you let go of your rifle and tore your gloves from your thawing flesh.

you narrowed your eyes as you typed away on the mainframe computer, plugging in a bright blue drive into the side while it scanned and pulled up all documents. the green text flashed at you as you waited with baited breath.

that was until you felt a heavy hit to the back of your head. it made your body spin and your eyes water as you growled, swiftly turning around to slam the nearest filing cabinet into their body.

you were swift as you slammed your rifle down against their torso when they fell, taking out a knife from your thigh holster to press it harshly against their neck.

you cut through the jugular and through the esophagus, wincing slightly at the splatter of blood that stained your ghillie suit.

you flinched as glass broke nearby, causing you to snap your head to the side to locate the source.

the scientist was carrying a jar filled with a strange, black goo like substance.

"the hell?" you muttered, curiosity overcoming you as you watched the almost alive thing wither on the ground before stilling. you looked at the scientist then back at the black substance when it suddenly rammed straight into your face.

"the fuck-" a strange feeling invaded your nerves as you quickly wiped at the foreign substance, flicking the residue onto the ground and wiping it on the labcoat of the deceased person next to you.

but you had no time to ponder when you heard an insistent beeping that made you turn back to the computer and snatch the drive.

you rapidly began typing as you began to install your latest program. one that was supposed to wipe everything on the system and leak every personals involvement with the hidden base.

this was what you came here for.

now all you had to do is make it back alive to the rendezvous spot.

with the hard drive tucked close to your heart, hidden deep within the inner pocket of your jacket you ran. you were uncaring about the way your boots slammed against the pristine tile of the facility. the heavy footsteps of you echoed through the empty walls when you bursted out the door.

the only thing you had on your mind was surviving. getting back to your boys. the team. the 141.

you could feel it. you were so close.

but as you squinted against the harsh light, your heart dropped into your stomach.

it wasn't a few more hours until sunlight.

you gulped as spotlights shown on you, courtesy of the dozens and dozens of soldiers surrounding the exits.

oh.

that was why the facility was so quiet. so... empty

this was it.

this was the end.

as you felt the impact of the first bullet against your vest, you roared.

you had to try. you had to struggle. you had to make it out alive. people's lives were hanging in the balance of this.

and your squad.

your family.

they would've never been able to handle the grief. price would beat himself up with how you reassured him you could do this. no backup. just a heli waiting for you.

desperation rushed through your veins, adrenaline filling your body as you took your rifle and picked off anyone and everyone you could. but the pain was getting to be too much.

it tore through your skin with ease. spilling dripping, red blood down onto the pristine snow beneath you. your breathes became heavy as your vision blurred. your body wracked in pain as everything seemed to slow down.

maybe this was what death felt like.

and as you were about to blackout, you heard a voice.

a strange, deep voice in your head that made you feel strangely at ease.

"time for a feast, little morsel."

you gained consciousness when everything ended. confusion and nausea set itself into your bones as you looked around. you no longer donned your ghillie suit, nor your rifle.

blood and organs were everywhere, staining the once white snow in blood and strange fluids.

you panted as you looked around. everyone was dead. demolished. ripped apart. you took a deep breathe before looking down at your gear, covered in blood and bits of flesh.

"the hell?"

your hands were dyed in blood. and as you looked around, you found your discarded goggles, and in the reflection you saw your uncovered face, smeared with blood.

"shit. shit. shit shit. what the fuck is going on!" you muttered to yourself desperately trying to wipe off the endless red stains from your face and gear.

before you stilled at a voice in your head.

just had a snack.

you whipped your head around to look for the source of the voice, but all you saw was mutilated body upon body. not a soul to be seen.

"who's there!" you couldn't stop the way panic flooded your system as you frantically looked around. for something. for an answer.

but all you heard was a deep chuckle in your mind.

no need to freak out, little human.

you looked down at your uniform and squinted at the bullet holes, but beneath was smooth, pristine flesh. without a speck of a wound or scrape.

"did... did I do this?"

there was a pause. before the thing responded.

we did this.

you felt like you were going crazy as you spoke out loud. trying to find any grasps of sanity as you tried to understand.

what was this? "and who is... we?" there was an immediate response. it was strange. having a conversation in your head.

we am venom.

"venom..." you echoed.

you took a deep breath before continuing.

"...is this what they were working on? are you the biological weapon they were developing?" no. there is nothing those lousy scientists could do to great me.

"then what are you?" we are venom. we come from klyntar. you didn't even have to voice out your questions before venom contined.

our home was destroyed. and we came here from beyond the void. we need a host in order to thrive.

"like a symbiote?"

yes.

it was strange. you could feel venom in the back of your head. his voice called to answer every question with a strange amount of patience.

that was until you realized you had to get back. the heli would only be waiting for a certain amount of hours before it would leave. with or without you.

you swore to yourself before quickly looking around. you could barely feel the cold as you began to run towards where you had stashed your bag, close to the distraction sight you were in hours ago.

unimaginable strength coursed through your veins as you ran through the snow with newfound ease. you barely felt tired from days upon days of little to no rest.

venom continued to talk as you got to your bag. you stripped through the ruined uniform and began to quickly dress in your spares. which, unfortunately were black in color.

those people made a good snack.

"what's with you and eating... people?" you shuddered as you hauled your bag onto your shoulder and began to trek away from the ruined base.

your stomach grumbled in protest as bile rose to your throat and into your mouth. you gingerly swallowed.

i need it to survive.

"so i have to eat people for you to... survive?"

you will die without me.

you stopped. dread filled you as you asked the sole question in your head.

"what?" i am keeping you alive. i am constantly regenerating your heart. without me, you would be dead.

you clutched your chest and inspected the old jacket you had worn before. truth be told, he was right.

bullet holes riddled your gear. but the most important detail was the holes that were supposed to go straight through your chest. straight through the heart.

it felt like your throat had dropped into your stomach as you traced the frayed clothing. each bullet hole would've lodged itself into your heart, your lungs, your stomach.

everywhere.

"fuck."

foreign knowledge began to flood your head as you clutched your head in pain. words and languages of the symbiote. of his origin and exactly how he was bound to you. how he was keeping you alive.

and without it...

you wouldn't get to return home to base. no more price or soap. no more gaz and ghost.

nothing.

you gulped heavily as you moved.

venom gave you strength. he gave you power.

he gave you life when you were without.

god.

how the fuck were you gonna hide this from the squad?

#cod #cod fanfic #cod x reader #gender neutral reader #venom reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #venom au

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sananaryon · 1 year

Text

Boscha and the Collector; The parallels I did not fucking expect

In For the Future, we catch up with Boscha for the first time since Labyrinth Runners (and her only speaking role since Any Sport in a Storm), and she’s doing... well. She rules the Hexside survivors with an iron fist, a disguised Kikimora acting as her advisor, she has a cool new look, she’s revealed to be attracted to women, oh and also she is the episode’s most prominent narrative parallel to the Collector.

hear me out.

The Collector first and foremost is motivated by being lonely. They have spent milennia trapped in a void between worlds with no company other than themselves, desperate for any kind of company or outside stimuli.This ends up leaving them vulnerable to Philip, who pretends to be their friend and offers to let them out, but actually only wants them to use their power for his benefit. In short, the Collector is a lonely kid who’s vulnerability is exploited by an adult who only wants to use them for their own ends.

And then we have Boscha. Over the last few months in-universe, two of Boscha’s closest friends ditched her for new friend groups basically overnight. Then her entire world was turned on its head with the Day of Unity and the ensuing warping the Collector did to the isles, and she loses her two remaining friends who, to make matters worse, sacrifice themselves to save her, which I imagine left her with some survivor’s guilt as well. And with the adults taken by the Collector, Boscha is suddenly thrust into a position of leadership she was ill-equiped for.

Which is when Kikimora shows up. We don’t exactly know how she got into Boscha’s good graces, but going by the credits illustration and her actions as Miki, we can assume that she comforted Boscha through the difficult times and offered some sense of guidance and stability. Of course, Kikimora doesn’t actually care about anyone but herself, she’s just exploiting Boscha’s vulnerability to gain power for herself. Like the Collector, Boscha is a lonely kid who’s vulnerability is exploited by an adult who only wants to use them for their own ends.

Also both adults manipulating them disguise themselves as someone much younger to seem more trustworthy, Kikimora as a child named Miki and Belos as the middle-aged Raine.

And with that connection established, we can also see Amity and Boscha’s relationship as a parallel to the Collector and King.

When Amity shows up in the Boiling Isles again after being gone for months, Boscha immediately latches onto her. Putting aside the gay subtext (is it even subtext? This girl is hopelessly in love), Amity is someone familiar. Boscha has lost everyone and her world has been turned on its head, so of course she wants to reconnect with the one person who can give some sense of normalcy. You can hear in her voice how frightened she is when Amity is about to leave. But, of course, Amity does not reciprocate, and Boscha has to let her go.

Compare that to the Collector. When he’s freed, the Collector latches onto King, calling him his best friend. King was the one who freed him, and his first real friend given what a bastard Belos is, but the Collector also recognizes King as the son of the Titan, someone they always wanted to play with. Again, we have someone who has been alone for a long time immediately latching onto someone who provides a sense of familiarity. And like Amity with Boscha, King does not actually reciprocate those feelings of friendship. That’s not to say King dislikes the Collector, just like I’m sure Amity doesn’t hate Boscha, but he doesn’t see the Collector as their best friend, and mostly just plays along. However, unlike Amity with Boscha, King doesn’t really have the chance to stand up to and make the Collector listen.

TL:DR: Boscha and the Collector are both scared and lonely kids with too much power who latch onto any sense of familiarity and comfort, which leaves them vulnerable to being manipulated by powerhungry adults.

#the owl house #analysis #boscha #the collector #toh spoilers #for the future #can you tell Boscha is my blorbo?

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aroseformyself · 10 months

Text

aishite

it’s cold. you know it, the wind blaring as the rain clouds rolled in. water droplets slowly accumulating on the window as you look out, and see a figure approach the house of the kids parents your babysitting.

as the figure gets closer you recognize the tall man. its malleus.

he doesn’t note your presence and knocks on the door, you let go of the blind and walk over to the door. yet you don’t reach for the doorknob.

“open the door, y/n,” his tone is as cold at the weather, but abruptly his voice turned soft, “it’s terribly cold out here, you wouldn’t let your darling boyfriend freeze out in the cold, would you?”

you hesitate, your hand ghosts over the doorknob, until it finally reverts back to your side.

“go away malleus.” you say, as firmly as you can, “we broke up. don’t you have an expensive car to drive back home in?” you spit out from gritted teeth.

“don’t get mad now, honey.” he said soothingly, although it had no effect in you. a hidden undertone of anger laced his sentence.

“i can’t just let you in, its not my house… how did you even find me…?” you ask curiously.

malleus stays silent for moment, “y/n. let me in, now.”

you can tell he’s trying to keep his cool, “it’s pouring out here.” a feeling gnaws at the back of your mind, yelling at you to not let him in.

you hesitantly hover your hand over the doorknob as you manage to push the feelings away for now.

you crack open the door, “promise me nothing will happen first.”

“y/n, must you be like this?”

“promise me, malleus.” you could hear his sigh muffled from the door.

“i promise nothing will hapoen.” he declared, chuckling at you “childish nature”.

you look him in the eye, his eyes glower down at you, a bright green. he’s staring right at you.

“okay…” you open the door slowly, letting him in.

“relax, darling, i don’t bite.” malleus comments at your straight face, “but i do recall you being into that.” he said smugly.

you glare at him as he walks in, but you can sympathize with the fact he is soaking wet.

“i’ll… get you a towel.” you say, your sweat dropping.

“no need,” malleus informed, “luckily i got here quick enough that i didn’t get as soaked as i could have.”

“your dripping onto the floor, and your hair is never going to dry quick enough.” you keep walking to the laundry room, grabbing a towel from.

malleus hummed and looked around, the first floor didn’t look like it it held anyrooms that were for sleeping.

the kid must be upstairs. he thought to himself, perfect. a sickening smile appeared on his face.

you come out of the laundry room and throw the towel at him, to which he instinctively catches it.

“don’t go throwing things around that aren’t yours, y/n.” he chuckles at you.

“just dry off, and put the towel in the dryer, its already open.” you say, stepping passed him and sitting down.

malleus wiped his face off, adoring that ut still had your warmth on it, before aggressively drying his hair. he took his shoes off to not get water on the floor, and stepped off the mat.

malleus walked over to the laundry room and placed the towel into the dryer.

as he was walking back through the hall to get back he came across a bag. your bag. he knew he shouldn’t have. but he did

he looked through your bag, only to make sure you weren’t seeing anyone else. it would hurt to much if you were, you only broke up a month ago.

and he had yet to fix everything between you.

malleus walked back into the living room, scanning over to find you sitting on the couch with something on the tv.

“ah, you’re back, i got some water for you.” you say, refusing looking at him.

malleus just sighed at your stubborn nature, “and nothing for yourself? don’t forget it’s important to take care of yourself… and from what i remember—“

you cut him off, “shut up, now.”

during the movie, you put on purely to pass time and keep him distracted, you failed to notice him staring at you.

you sit silently, acting as if the movie did interest you. even though you didn’t like it, you couldn’t just leave him outside in the pouring rain.

you jolt as a hand grabs your neck. you turn to malleus, as much as you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

“wh—“ you cough half way through trying to speak. you can feel the bile rising in your throat.

“y’know, i was going to use this in your drink, but you’ve made it a little harder on yourself.” malleus loves the feeling of you struggling against him, especially when he scoots closer to you.

malleus takes a small tablet and shoves it into your mouth. you can feel the lack of air catching up to you. little black dots appearing in your vision.

the tiny tablet disintegrates after a second on your tongue is when malleus hands finally lets go of your neck.

you immediately breath deeply, trying to regain oxygen. and after a while, you do, “what was that?!”

“don’t worry, it will take a while for the effects to kick in. we still have time.”

“time for—wha-ha…” a sudden warm feeling made itself present in your lower stomach. your face heated up.

malleus smirked at this, “oh my, it seems to be taking effect sooner than i thought.”

he leaned down next to your ear and whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. “maybe call a friend to come and finish your job?”

you knew he wouldn’t get off your back on this…

so now here you were, trying to get rid of the burning feeling in your nether region with malleus fingering you.

his slender fingers pumping into you at a quick pace.

“uhm, hey [friends name]!” you say, attempting to keep your moans down.

“mhmm~… i kinda need a-ah favor!” you slowly move your hand down to malleus’s wrist in a last resort. but it did little to deter his movements.

small squelches could be heard and you prayed that your friend couldn’t hear them.

“r-really…? that’s great. bye-bye!” you hang up as soon as you feel the band in your lower stomach snap, a loud moan drops from your mouth.

malleus massages your thigh and it feels like you can’t speak properly. you pant as malleus abruptly turns you around.

you cum drips onto his pants and you can’t help but feel shy at the fact he’s not doing anything about it.

you feel sick, your stomach turns as you realize what you’ve done.

malleus lifts his hand up before your face and seperates his fingers, “so beautiful…” he says absentmindedly.

before you even know what hes doing he brings his hand up to his mouth and licks his fingers clean of your essence.

“mal—“ you start, disturbed by him licking up your fluids so contently. but before you can finish he graps the back of your head and kisses you.

you can taste your fluids on him, and it snaps you out of whatever you were in. you try to push him away, but his hand keeps you in place.

his hips move upward grinding against your own and you feel overwhelmed. you can still feel his free hand sliding down your leg and unhooking the panties from your ankle. you can only guess he slid them im his pocket.

malleus bringd his hand up your leg. the tips of his fingers just ghosting above your thigh, making you wait in anticipation as he drags them gently up.

suddenly, a noise came from the door and at furst it sounded like anither gust of wind. but it wasn’t, a another knock at the door, and another.

your friend was here, you look down at malleus and push his shoulders away. hoping he would get the message you moved you leg.

honestly, with how demanding he was before you excepted him to ignore the door. but he didn’t.

the pale male grabbed your hips, and softly sat you down on the couch. “get your pants back on. i’ll answer the door in the mean while.” he said quite nobly.

once malleus got up and left the room, you could hear the door open and your friends surprised gasp.

you could hear their muffled conversation and quickly shook your head, grabbing your pants.

you stand up and hop backwards for a second, trying to get them on as quickly as you could.

“shit…” you utter under your breath, as you walk out into the front room.

you take a deep breath, stepping foot into the room before you. “hey (f/n)! glad you could make it on such short notice!”

you see them smile, which means they haven’t seen anything wrong, “it okay, really, i’m almost always at home anyway!” they say, bubbly.

“ah where’s malleus?” you ask, tilting my head to the side in question.

“oh, he’s getting me a drink,” they say, smiling in a reassuring way, “speaking of which—you didn’t tell me you were back together?!”

you immediately know that malleus already had to stall them, but he could’ve done anything other than this. you irked as you think to yourself.

“ah-well-yeah, we haven’t told anyone yet!” you say, it would look suspicious if you were to mouth off on how you weren’t now.

malleus steps out from the kitchen and brings a glass to your friend, “ah, y/n, your back.” he says, as if he didn’t finger fuck while you on the phone.

“malleus!” you say, hugging him as if he is your boyfriend. yet, he can still tell your not having fun with this little charade.

“we must be going now, y/n has promised to drive me back to my house.” malleus says as he places a hand on your head.

“alright, well drive safely!” your friend waves you off as you walk hand in hand with malleus out to your car.

you walk around and get into the drivers seat, turning on the ignition as letting malleus in.

it’s already gone to far, but you can’t stop it now.

you can’t stop him from directing you to drive to an empty parking lot.

you can’t stop him getting what he wants.

you can’t stop him from getting his way.

“where do you think you’re going? i’m not done with you yet.”

#malleus draconia #twisted wonderland smut #twst #malleus x reader #lemon0bear11

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xo-urban · 1 year

Note

How about Alejandro x male!reader who got caught in a heavy rain/storm while on a patrol and had to wait it out in one of the abandoned buildings? They were drenched and all their clothes wet, so they made a small fire and took them off so they would dry. So there they were, sitting only in their underwear, trying to keep it cool, but one thing led to another and they started making out, cuz what's more romantic than kissing during a storm? You can add a little of smut at the end if you want, only if you're up to it! Love your fics btw, Im so happy to see a male reader blog with such amazing stories!

Translation for those wondering: Alejandro with a male reader who is his enemy, and they accidentally fuck.

Loved combining these two lovely ideas, enjoy some good ol hate that festered into some romance

On A Cold Rainy Night

Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x Male Reader

Summary: You seek shelter from the storm but happen to spend it out with your ‘sworn enemy’ Alejandro Vargas, gets a little steamy from there.

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers but it’s very short lived 😦, no beta read we die like roach

Word count: 1598

You never chose sides, you went with whatever you were put with. You were a loyal soldier, you wouldn’t leave your boss’s side if given the chance. You worked with Graves and he found you were a great soldier in battle, hence you were his favorite.

You never saw yourself as anything more or less, you made sure of it. You were a loyal dog to Graves as the shadow company’s hound, you did all the tiring dirty work. Yet here you were, lost in a storm with no way to get back.

You shivered, stepping into an abandoned building, you were drenched. You sighed softly, thinking that it would be another night alone as you walked deeper into the building to at least keep yourself a bit more well hidden from anyone bothering to investigate in this harsh weather.

The comforting cackling of fire drew you in, you were freezing in your soaked gear. You haven’t realized when your body moved on its own, turning into the room eagerly, you needed warmth, desperately.

The sound of a gun cocking broke you out of your need, “Don’t fucking move.” The voice came from behind you as you slowly raised your hands to show you didn’t come for a fight. You stood in your spot, only a few steps away from the warming blaze you could really use right now.

“You’re one of the snakes that captured me!” He spat. You bit back a shiver, how could you forget Alejandro? You were the one to supervise him, the one who cracked jokes with him despite the cruel reality of the two of you being enemies.

“It was my job.” You sighed, turning around to meet his cold eyes fueled by hate. You met his eyes, watching them soften at the sight of your face, recognizing your beautiful features. He put his gun away, running his hand through his hair in frustration, cursing at himself in spanish. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Graves?”

“Sent me away on patrol” You replied simply, letting your hands drop as you kneeled beside the burning flame, it didn’t look like it was going for a while at all. “You’re by his side through almost everything I don’t understand.” Alejandro spoke as he kneeled across from you. “I’m as obedient as a dog can be, it’s what I’m referred to.” You spoke, your voice lacked any emotion. “Christ you sound like Ghost yet he’s been cheery as of late.” Alejandro sighed as he began to peel himself out of his unnecessary gear. You hummed in reply, you never really had a simple conversation but it did feel good to at least listen to one.

“Did you come alone?” Alejandro asked, you shook your head, “Went alone,Graves deemed me strong enough to go out here, its one big waste of time” You scoffed, “Deemed me as replaceable.” You snapped, you didn’t mean to get so rude all of a sudden but it was in your nature and your ways. You shivered as you quickly removed your gear, tossing the soaked pieces to the side but still at arm's length, just in case Alejandro were to betray you on this tense night.

You let out a delighted sigh, edging closer to the fire, you could feel Alejandro’s eyes on you. The rain outside thundered loudly, it wasn’t gonna ease up anytime soon so you were stuck here with Alejandro, who seemed calm for the most part.

You shivered harshly, cursing at yourself, your damn clothes were soaked and you could tell Alejandro was holding back a lot to act like the cold didn’t affect him at all. “Can I trust you not to kill me tonight?” You hissed quietly, “A truce?” Alejandro’s brow raised, “Can do that if you do the same.”

“You have my word, I’ll stick to it.” You groaned, shedding yourself out from your cold, damp clothes. A loud audible sigh leaving your lips as you sat comfortably in your pants. Alejandro paused with his mouth slightly open, looking over your scarred torso glistening in the fire light, only shutting his mouth to gulp back a sound. His face was a little red and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Christ I’m so fucking cold-” You shut your eyes as you rubbed your arms up and down to produce some heat. You heard shuffling before arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. Your shivering eased a little as you sighed, “Thank you..” You smiled softly, leaning back against his chest, his shirt was off and it brought a blush to your face at the realization.

“Think of it as me returning the favor.. for past incidents between you and me” Alejandro whispered, his hot breath fanning against your bare shoulder. You whined, doing your best to stay warm, Alejandro’s hands worked up and down your skin, massaging your tension away with the warmth his hands provided.

You groaned, shifting back against him. He cursed behind you, hands slowing to a stop. “You’ve got to stop moving mi amor..” He groaned. You turned around to meet his eyes before you lowered your gaze, your face immediately burning redder. “Sorry.” You murmured, you didn’t think you would get to this point, yet even have someone to love. You always didn’t have time to love nor even be ‘good enough’ for a lover.

You shivered at the cold air hitting your back as Alejandro reached over to toss a piece of dried wood into the fire to keep it going, dangerously close to you. Yet you wouldn’t deny that you were aroused by the situation.

His hands trailed up and down your waist, murmuring soft compliments about your torso. You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him close. Your heads touched, edging closer to each other’s lips on instinct, your breaths fanning against each other. You let your eyes flutter shut when your lips connected, a moan leaving you from the well needed attention. Alejandro rubbed circles into your waist as a hand reached down to palm you through your pants teasingly slow.

You pulled away with a gasp, body trembling to the touch, not knowing hot react as needy groans left you. “I want you to be loud so I know what I’m doing mi amor.. can you do that? Can you be a good boy?” Alejandro murmured in your ear as he slipped off the rest of your clothes before moving to his own.

“Fuck- I’ll be your good boy, just please..” You whined, you needed anything really, “I’ll take care of you Mi amor, relax..” Alejandro.

Alejandro rubbed your precum on his fingers, lubricating them enough to rub your rim, earning a gasp as you held onto his shoulders tightly. “Ready for this? Not too late to back out..” Alejandro whispered, rubbing your waist reassuringly. You nodded eagerly, lust drunk with a drowsy smile, “Please Alejandro..” You whined, Alejandro pushed a finger in, waiting for you to adjust, rubbing your waist with one hand before it trailed to your hard cock, stroking it to help you focus.

You mewled in pleasure once he began to finger fuck you, you cursed with gasps and moans your legs trembling from the pleasure slightly. “Fuck fuck fuck~ more Alejandro please~!” You moaned, moving your hips against his fingers as your cock throbbed in his hand.

Alejandro pulled his fingers out after stretching you out enough, lining his cock up with your hole. You let out a loud moan when he pulled you down, sitting you down in his lap. Alejandro cursed under his breath as he planted soft kisses to your skin, feeling you tremble from the touch. “What a good boy.. taking me so well..” Alejandro praised, you melted into him at the words, pleading quietly to get him to fuck you already, you felt hot, so hot and needy. You needed to moved but Alejandro’s hands kept you planted.

You squirmed, whining helplessly as he sat their watching you for who knows how long before he started to relentlessly fuck into you with warning, earning a loud string of curses and moans from you as you held onto him tightly for some support.

He pounded into you from underneath, tears welling up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, moaning as you let Alejandro take the lead. He didn’t stop and you enjoyed every merciless thrust, moaning without hesitation. You wanted him to hear you, you wanted to be with him, to be loyal to Alejandro.

“Fuck I’m close mi amor..” Alejandro moaned as he kept thrusting up into your hole, getting sloppier by the second. You shuddered when he hurried deep inside you before releasing, painting your insides white as you came, a moan of relief leaving you followed by a whine as you buried your face into his shoulder.

You didn’t bother to move as Alejandro held you close as you shook, it felt so good to feel loved in the right way. And you couldn’t help but smile as you pulled him into another kiss.

“What about you and me.. we can run away together, live out our lives.. so you never have to work for Graves again..” Alejandro smiled softly as he kissed your face, trailing down to your neck.

“I would love that.. I would love to stay by your side..” You smiled before pulling him into another passionate kiss.

As the rain still poured from the sky on this cold rainy day. Two men of almost complete opposites loved.

#fanfic #fanfiction #male reader #modern warefare 2 #alejandro x male reader #alejandro x reader #smut #enemies to lovers #but it’s kind of shit

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somekindofpoet · 1 year

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Hi stranger!

I was wondering if you could write a short/Drabble about our girl Raine and Reader and them getting into a serious fight. Who would give in first? How would each side apologize or would they both be like: OKAY WE GOOD! And and and of course, make up smut or if you want to be evil at the end they break up and you call this short story an AU!! (If you do this I will not talk to you for a week!! H A P P Y E N D I N G) thank youuu!

Hellooo my friend!! Nooo sad endings here! Who could ever stay mad at this sweet baby?

The hulking animal between your legs is a monster. Foaming at the mouth, eyes red, sides heaving as you lock your hand into the rope.

“You sure you wanna do this, kid? This one’s real nasty,” Mr. Day yells over the roaring crowd, leaning over the railing.

He watches you cinch the rope down over your palm, adjust your seat on the bull’s shoulders. You look him in the eye and smirk, your show of cockiness hiding the way your heart pounds wildly in your chest. He laughs, pats your shoulder and slides off the rail.

You squeeze the bull with your knees, heels digging into its sides. You close your eyes, search for his heart beat under your body. you find it thrumming, try to slow yours as you focus on his. Take a deep breath, steady and sure. The thundering crowd drops away, only you and him in your world.

Lorraine flashes through your mind, seething and biting her lip. It makes your palms sweat. It breaks your focus.

The gate opens.

——

“I’m gonna ride him, Rainey. He’s the meanest bull in East Texas and he lives right here on your Ranch. It’s basically fate!”

You run your fingers over the poster stuck to her parents fridge. Its headline tells of a rodeo happening this weekend, and one of your cows is the headliner.

Lorraine crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head, “You are not. You could get hurt. You could die.”

You scoff, turning to her, “I know this bull, baby. Hell, I raised him. If anyone is gonna take his first ride, it’s gotta be me.”

“No,” is all she says, her eyes ablaze.

Her body language betrays her calm exterior. You know she’s angry. Probably more angry with you than she’s ever been. But she’s afraid too. Anxious about the possibility of you being hurt.

Your tone is soft, sweet, “Raine, baby. I’m doin this. Your support would mean a lot to me.”

She throws her hands up, curling her lip at you, “I will not support you putting yourself in danger, Y/N. I just won’t.”

“Will you watch at least? Let me look for you in the crowd.”

Her nostrils flare, “I said no.”

“Fine,” you retort, feeling jilted at her lack of support.

She steps into your space, holding both of your hands, “Don’t you do this.”

Her eyes are wide and pleading, and you almost fold. But this is important to you. Your father was a champion bull rider, and with him gone this feels like an opportunity to bring his spirit some pride.

You shake your head, kiss her forehead. You know she’ll be angry. She’ll be worried out of her mind. But the draw of this is too strong for you to spare her.

———

You’re thinking about Lorraine when the crowd comes screaming back. The gate opens and the bull rips out of the stall like a bat out of hell.

Time slows to the millisecond while you’re on his back. Every moment experienced like looking at still photographs. You feel the raw power under you, and know the split second of doubt is going to ruin you.

The next thing you see is mud. You hear a crunch, and it’s lights out.

——

You wake up in a warm bed, a soft weight on your shoulder. Your eyes are heavy, hard to open. Your body feels strange. Wavy and like you’re sinking.

As your lids crack open, you’re afraid at first. You don’t recognize the room with blueish green curtains, oddly tiled ceilings and fluorescent lights. A faint beeping in the background and a monitor to your left give your groggy mind a solid hint about where you’re at.

The weight in your right side shifts, and you slowly turn to find Lorraine’s hand over your stomach, her head resting on the bed next to your arm.

You smile, lift your arm to pet her hair. When you speak your voice is hoarse, thick and heavy with sleep, “Hey, baby girl.”

She gasps and jerks her head up, rubbing your eyes. She looks relieved for about half a second, and then her features morph into fury.

“I told you not to do it.”

You blink hard, and wince at the sudden pain in your left arm. You try to lift it to inspect the source, and find it heavier than it should be. A blue cast is affixed to it from your wrist up to your elbow. You frown, try to wiggle your fingers and hiss at the sharp spasm it sends down your arm.

You look back at Lorraine, who is still glowering, and grimace.

“First thing you’re gonna say to me is ‘I told you so’?”

Her frown deepens, “Well I did, didn’t I? But no, you just go and do what you want, not a care in the world. You could have died! You would have died if them clowns didn’t save your ass.”

You frown now, unable to remember the events she’s spitting mad about. You remember the bull, and the gate opening and the…oh. You made it about three seconds on that behemoth’s back before he catapulted you into into the earth.

You assume you were knocked unconscious, because there are no more memories after the smell of the dirt that shot up your nose.

Looking at her brings back another memory. Your thoughts before the gate had opened. You’d lost focus because you were worried about her being mad at you.

The overwhelming disappointment that drops onto your chest makes you angry. Your father would have done better. Would have wanted you to do better.

“I lost focus thinkin about you, Raine,” you say, your tone sharp. “If you had been there to support me-“

“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” she growls.

You lift your brows and jut your chin stubbornly, not speaking another word.

She flexes her jaw, standing abruptly, and flares down at you. Her eyes flick between yours and your casted arm. Her fists clench and she turns on her heel, rounding your bed and storming out of the room.

You sigh, rubbing between your eyebrows with your good hand.

“Not your best move, kiddo.”

You jolt, only now noticing Mr. Day sat at the other end of the room. You groan, knowing he witnessed the encounter, and that he’s right.

He stands from his chair and moves into the newly vacated one at your bedside. His eyes are tired, worry creasing the lines in his face. Lorraine looked tired too, and now you feel terribly guilty.

He must sense it, because he smiles softly at you, patting your arm.

“She’ll be okay. The Day women are stubborn, but she was so worried about you I’m surprised she didn’t force her way into surgery.”

You gulp, “Surgery?”

He chuckles, “Had a pretty nasty fall out there. That bull sent you into the ground like a sack of flour.”

You glance at your cast, wincing again.

“I just wanted to do my Pops proud,” your voice is high, your throat tight with impending tears.

Mr. Day’s eyes are warm, his heavy calloused hand resting on your forearm.

“I know honey. He’s proud of you. He’s proud when you’re ropin, when you’re birthin calves. Hell, he’s proud of you when you’re takin Raine out for ice cream. You don’t need to get on the back of the meanest bull in Texas to make him proud. He’s smilin down on you every day you breathe, kid.”

The tears roll down your face and once they start, there’s no stopping them. Mr. Day sits with you until you calm, holding your hand the entire time.

The crying and the medicine wear you out, smothering you in exhaustion. You fall asleep with his hand in yours.

When you wake again, there’s still a hand in yours. But this one is much smaller, softer.

Lorraine is back, leaning over your bed with worry again. Your heart aches with how grateful you are for her.

“Don’t go gettin the wrong idea,” she says, her voice low, “I’m still spittin mad at you.”

You close your eyes and sigh. You probably deserve it. No, you definitely do.

They release you from the hospital a few hours later, sending you home with pain killers and an ice pack for your head. Lorraine is quiet behind the wheel of your truck, not saying more to you than she has to.

She keeps herself busy at the apartment. She cleans like her life depends on it, then rearranges things, then cleans again. She pushes your meds on you every few hours, makes sure you’re fed and that you drink water. But she doesn’t sit with you, or cuddle on the couch like usual.

She’s angry, that much is clear. You wonder how long that anger will simmer beneath the surface before you get another ass chewing.

It never comes. The next day she spends some time out of the apartment. She doesn’t tell you where she’s gone.

Any blame you held for her is gone now. You know it’s not her fault. You took a massive risk and now you’re paying for it. You were also a royal asshole at the hospital, and you’re pretty sure you’re paying for that too.

When she comes home later that afternoon, you leap off the couch and try to help her with the grocery bags she’s carrying.

“I’ve got it. You only got one hand, go sit down.” Her voice is flat, no emotion coming through in her tone.

She’s still mad. But she’s still there. Still taking care of you.

When she finishes putting the groceries away, she heads to the bedroom. You let her be for a while, nervous to approach her. After an hour, when she doesn’t resurface, you walk down the hall with your tail between your legs.

You find her lying on the bed, a book in her hands. She glances up at you for a moment, and returns to her book.

You set your shoulders, gearing yourself for apology warfare. It would take significant effort, groveling and maybe a tear from you, but you couldn’t stand to have her angry with you anymore. You crawl onto the foot of the bed and sit cross legged at her feet. When she doesn’t drop the book, you gently shake her bare foot.

She huffs, dropping the book in her lap, “What?”

You smile sheepishly, “I’m sorry.”

She rolls her eyes and lifts the book again. You reach over and push it back down in her lap, making her frown at you.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I know I scared you. I know it was stupid,” you pause, waiting for her to look at you.

Her expression softens, just slightly, so you continue.

“It was a dumb idea. I wanted to make my Pops proud, and I ended up lookin like a fool anyway,” you say, your voice cracking.

She doesn’t speak, but her eyes are searching your face, always evaluating you.

“I was mean at the hospital and you didn’t deserve that. I know it wasn’t your fault, I knew it then and I didn’t mean it when I said it and I’m sorry.”

She closes her book wordlessly, setting it on the bedside table and laying back again. Her eyes narrow, her lips tighten.

You chew on the inside of your lip, waiting. She doesn’t say anything. You nod once and pat her shin, shifting down the bed to stand.

“No,” she says, her voice soft.

You turn your head, looking at her with a confused expression.

“Come here,” she sighs, her arms open.

Your breath is nearly knocked out of your chest in relief. You crawl up the bed, keeping your left arm lifted. Your head settles over her chest, her arms wrapping around your shoulders. She gently runs her fingers through your hair, kisses the top of your head. Her heartbeat is slow, steady. It feels like coming home.

“You’re a damn fool,” she says, her lips rustling your hair.

“I know,” you mumble into her chest.

“I understand why it was important to you, but you can make your Daddy proud in other ways, baby. I know for certain he wouldn’t want you out there gettin hurt.”

“I know,” you say again.

“Well since you just know everything, you know I love you, right?”

You exhale heavily, the words sinking into your bones like honey. Sweet and thick, warming you from the inside out.

“I know. I love you too, Raine.”

She kisses the top of your head again, picks up her book, and continues reading. The steady rhythm of her heart, her breathing and the pages turning lull you into sleep.

#crush answers #lpm #lorraine day #lpm drabble

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italoniponic · 7 months

Text

Long Live the Brother | Kingscholar brothers

Synopsis: Since Cheka was born, Falena became more aware of the fact that he wouldn’t live forever. Whenever he falls asleep in his most stressful days, he has this strange nightmare about a gorge and a stampede. As years pass by, the dream has gained more details to its story. Cheka is in danger and Leona is close to Falena, but he can’t help him — because he doesn’t want to.

Falena needs to do something about this premonition. As little as it seems to be.

kingscholar brothers / angst with hopeful ending / Lion King references / minor tamashina mina setting / ft. mention of ocs / 4,5k words / Masterlist

Notes: It’s been a while since I last talked about doing this fic but it’s finally here, folks. *sighs in tiredness* well, I asked people to vote for a type of ending so it took me a long time to write it all and come to a conclusion that felt… proper. Like, there’s room for good things to come, certainly. Hope you enjoy it!

Long Live the Brother

Falena knows he won’t live forever. It seems kind of obvious, especially when it comes to Afterglow Savannah’s oldest teaching: “we are part of the cycle of life.” It’s part of the birth-to-death cycle. Helping others in life and giving life to nature itself when one dies. To become grass, to be a spirit in the stars.

Falena thought about this a lot, especially on some extraordinary occasions in his life: the birth of Leona, the strong illness of their father and, even more strongly, on the birth of Cheka.

The kingdom’s people — among servants, guards and subjects — got used to the charismatic image of Falena. To them, the then-young king was brave and imposing, his strong smile shining brighter than the sunlight on the golden savannah. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

But there were things that troubled Falena’s mind many times. Shadows that have haunted him since the crown was placed on his head.

He was so young at the time and the books he had read during his education weren’t enough to guide his journey in the real world, where brilliant theories could fail at the first unpredictable element of nature. His father was also too debilitated to give any advice. Sometimes he barely recognized where he was in his own room.

Falena could only thank Heavens for having Maisha by his side, she being his most precious support all these years.

The couple had ruled together since they got married. They hit and missed all the obstacles in life together. Maisha was the only confidant that Falena could truly let go of his saddest thoughts and worries. She didn’t demand from him any perfection of his royalty. Maisha would let him just talk to her and it was those moments that made him happiest.

That had been their dynamic since they met at a diplomatic ball a long time ago. The then-prince purposely hid himself from Kifaji just to show the stars to the princess who befriended him.

And it was a mutual, strong feeling. Maisha wouldn’t trade Falena for anyone. Her love was true, overcoming any circumstances and problems they encountered along the way. Proof of this was the birth of Cheka.

It was an unforgettable day. The kingdom celebrated it as if it were the sunrise after a long period of darkness, the rain after a long period of drought. Both of them were so happy with their little cub. Falena thought of Cheka as the light in his difficult life as king. Unfortunately, with the King’s health worsening, Falena found himself again thinking about life and death.

The shadows gained strength and that’s when the nightmares began.

It wasn’t constant dreams. They appeared mainly after a long and stressful day. When everything seemed about to fall apart, when the difficulties of the kingdom weighed on Falena’s shoulders.

It started simply with him lost in a crowd. People were running over each other, everyone was confused and frightened — and he was being slaughtered by all of them, trampled underfoot.

Then it switched to something else. Falena heard Cheka’s screams and desperately ran to save him. Sometimes he managed to get the little boy to a safe place on the rocks. Other times, they didn’t survive. But in either scenario, Falena would lose his life.

No matter what he did or how hard he tried, everything or only his life slipped through his hands. His son’s screams would turn to tears as Falena collapsed into his own unconscious sleep. It was tortuous. He wanted to answer his little one, to say that everything would be fine — but in what voice? With what kind of force?

As time passed, a new character came to his dreams: Leona.

He almost always stood aside, just watching the scene unfold in front of him. But sometimes it was he who first warned him of the danger that Cheka was in, and with this, Falena ended up finding himself in the midst of that frightened crowd.

Whenever he woke up from these nightmares, Falena usually took a deep breath and tried to comfort himself in the fact that if something happened to him, Leona could take care of Cheka and Maisha in his place. Without a doubt, he would leave the kingdom safely in the hands of his younger brother.

There was no other person Falena wouldn’t trust with his own life and that of the people he loved most.

Then, at a certain point, that nightmare repeated itself.

Falena had managed to lead Cheka to the rocks, away from the tumultuous crowd where he could be safer. But he himself fell among the stampede again. In a last effort, Falena jumped up and clung to a high rock.

Relief washed over his face when he saw Leona on top of that very stone, safe enough to pull him away from danger.

“Leona...! Brother! Help me!,” Falena pleaded.

But Leona only gave a contemptuous smile in response. With all the calmness in the world, he crouched down and dug his nails into the knuckles of Falena’s hands, making him scream in pain.

“Long live the king,” then Leona gave a long and dangerous smile like he had never given before, looking deep into his older brother’s eyes.

Falena felt afraid of the shade of green in Leona’s eyes. Green in the shade of poison, pure burning sulfur. He wasn’t his brother. Leona wasn’t like that! In front of him was just the picture others painted of him.

Falena heard so many times from the servants that this was who his brother was going to become. A corrupt, envious boy who would bring drought and disgrace to the kingdom. It couldn’t be! Leona wasn’t like that. He would never hurt Cheka, nor anyone.

Or would he?

Suddenly the pain in his hands had stopped. The distance between them increased. Was Falena falling? Leona no longer held him. He was watching his fall with a dark, victorious look. A scream was heard in the distance. Falena has never heard the word “no” pronounced so painfully before.

He wasn’t sure if it was coming out of his own mouth because the voice he was hearing was from Cheka. But Falena kept falling until he finally hit the ground and thousands of feet passed over him. The pain of being trampled on was nothing compared to his heart being shattered inside.

Falena didn’t want the crown if it meant leaving his son and wife alone. He never wanted to.

Before he knew it, he had already left his brother once. He didn’t want to leave him again.

His voice grew faint before the noise of the stampede above him. Both when he was young and when observing his kingdom, it was the only time when the people’s voice surpassed his light. What began with the servants losing patience with the young second prince, turned into real complaints and fear with his magic.

Falena didn’t know what to say to them. His brother was young, that was all. But as Leona seemed to worsen in behavior, Falena lost the basis to defend him. And with the accumulation of royal responsibilities, he lost sense of time.

One day, Leona was already a full-fledged teenager who didn’t have the slightest motivation to do anything. The chess that Falena taught him with great joy became a game that his brother played alone — because he had no one by his side and no one wanted to be near him. Leona acted as if he were a stranger in the palace, a being who didn’t belong there.

But he was part of the cycle, he was a vital member of the family. Falena still held that truth in his heart. At the end of the day, he didn’t have more time to bring him back? Was their bond already broken beyond repair?

What would be left of all this would be for Leona to let him fall over the abyss of death, more than content to see the color of his eyes shine for one last time?

“Dad!”

Then Falena woke up. He was alive after all. His heart was pounding hard enough to be sure of it. The sun shone brighter than ever through the office window. He should have fallen asleep unintentionally. His rest time has been getting worse lately. Everywhere he went he had a problem to solve, and if he ever stopped to rest, he felt guilty for it.

But there was Cheka holding his arm tightly, jumping endlessly with excitement. His eyes let out sparks of joy. It was almost nostalgic — at one point, in a room full of books, another boy called his brother to take a break from his studies and talk to him a little bit.

“Dad! Uncle Leona arrived with friends!,” the little prince announced happily. “Can Naru and I play with them? Can we?”

Seeing Cheka smiling gave some cheer to Falena’s poor suffering heart, though the mention of his brother couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“Go with Monti and Zakki to talk to your uncle. I... I’m going soon.”

“Okay!”

“Ah! Cheka!”

The boy stopped in his tracks when his father called his name, his orange hair with yellow edges swirling like rays of midday sun. He was the perfect blend of his parents, a gift from Heavens to them. Falena took him in his lap and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, son. Be careful, okay?,” he asked. His voice was a little hoarse.

“I love you too, dad!,” Cheka kissed his father’s cheek. “And don't worry! I’ll be with uncle Leona.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of...”

Maisha entered at the right moment when Cheka ran out of the office. She had overheard part of the conversation. And her worry only worsened when she saw her husband’s forlorn countenance.

Falena held his face in his hands, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe what he’d just thought about his own brother. His stomach felt heavy and empty at the same time. He was feeling bad in so many different ways that he didn’t even know where to start. His thoughts collided like an onslaught of hyenas, tearing at his flesh and gnawing at his bones.

“It was that nightmare again?”

The desolate king felt his wife’s hand massaging his shoulder, conveying comfort and solace. Falena raised his eyes to Maisha, her presence always welcomed on any occasion.

She went around the chair where her husband sat to be closer to him, and he held her waist, resting his head on her belly as he did at the time when she was pregnant with their precious son. His hair of a strong and intense orange cascaded down, confusing itself with the dress of the finest fabric that his queen wore.

Maisha caressed Falena’s head, patiently waiting for him to find words to express himself.

She never rushed or pressured him. She knew it wouldn’t do any good. Few queens in the world could say that they loved their husband so much that they wouldn’t mind supporting them unconditionally as Maisha had done for a long time.

They never changed, they just got stronger together. Maisha had the same long, naturally slightly grayish-beige hair with strong yellow tips and the kind, wise caramel-colored eyes she had when she was young. The eyes Falena most wanted to face at the moment.

The time that passed wasn’t as long as it felt. For Falena, it seemed like an eternity before he told Maisha every single thing that happened in his nightmare. When the story came to an end, husband and wife stared at each other in deep silence.

“I failed Leona... terribly,” Falena sighed. “I’d let them say what they wanted of him…”

“Falena, dear. You always defended him the best you could, I know that. Leona... actually, you two are very complicated. All this palace’s life is. What they subjected to a fifteen year old and a five year old boy is unforgivable,” Maisha said.

“But there’s nothing else we can do.”

The woman bit her lip. She understood the feeling well, those shadows that haunted her husband. That’s what she was most afraid of, too. She had known Leona for a long time and, luckily, he came to respect her more than anyone in his life.

However, respect was still too little to meet him in the desert and drive him back home. Maisha didn’t just want to be Leona’s sister-in-law. She wanted to be his older sister. But he despised his own brother by blood, so what would she — as the family’s outsider — needed to do wrong to fall into the same bad graces?

“What can you offer a man who has everything but wants nothing?,” Maisha suddenly thought out loud.

And Falena grasped this thought as if it were dry leaves that the wind brought in the afternoon. The royal spiritual adviser, Chinaza, once said that those said leaves were messages from the Kings of the Past — and in reality, the old baboon wasn’t so far from the truth.

With the words of his wife in mind, the king began to think calmly about everything. Over the years, he offered Leona various kinds of gifts. Books, chess boards, expensive items of clothing, dinners with his favorite meats and everything else he had at his disposal to give to his precious brother. It wasn’t just charity. He knew Leona deserved it all.

But it must have looked fake in the young man’s eyes. Deep down — and the nightmare didn’t help this feeling — Leona should despise all these gestures.

It felt like Falena was patching up the past, as if all they had been through was an old tapestry that just needed extra thread.

“What is the one thing that a man who despises all things, because he feels himself to be despised, most wants?,” Falena asked back as he got up and looked out the window.

They were at the highest point of the palace, from where they could see the whole kingdom and everything that the light could touch. Maisha rested her head on Falena’s shoulder and he leaned on her equally, both with their gaze lost in the horizon.

“I have no idea, my love,” the wife replied.

“I think I know what to do... well, I think” Falena swallowed hard. “It’s not much and I honestly don’t know how much Leona will like or understand it…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our father used to say that diplomatic apologies require more than an emotional and well-crafted text. That’s not what touches people. It’s the process, the small steps you take along the way. If you never cross the desert, you will never come home.”

“Alas, you ramble a lot sometimes,” Maisha said but began to smile as she saw her husband’s face recover its grace. “Will you start with the small steps then?”

Falena took a deep breath, filling himself with courage. He would.

Better late than never.

If anything, Leona’s patience could be more succinctly described as a worn-out tapestry.

It had interesting embroidered drawings, making smooth lines on thick thread and had the colors of the sunset. In the old days, it had impressive strength. But he couldn’t say the same in the present though. A lion cub had snatched the edge and began to tear it apart, leaving bristles exposed and easy to fray.

Which settled Jack to be the only one — by their side at the moment — who was actually concerned about the dorm leader wanting to rip apart his own nephew running around him in a fit of pure childish energy.

Meanwhile, Kalim was distracted by all the beautiful landscapes around them in the huge palace. Naru, the lioness-friend of the little prince, was explaining everything to him — and on certain occasions, she would take a look at her best friend and smile at him having fun.

But, perhaps, what was doing more harm to Leona’s nerves was the indescribable delight in which Lilia and Vil were watching them near the balcony. They both had different kinds of smiles but seemed equally amused by his look of distress.

Was that Leona’s penance for being himself in the NRC? Or were they joining life’s queue to piss him off?

“Cheka!,” suddenly a powerful voice made its entrance.

“Dad!”

Leona had his chair turned away from the entrance, but as he turned around, he was for a very brief moment happy with his brother’s arrival. All to get Cheka away from him, especially.

He then took a look at the colleagues he brought along and observed their reactions of respect and admiration at the arrival of the king. He wasn’t particularly impressed himself.

Falena might be the most imposing “Lion King” in all of Afterglow Savannah’s history but Leona would always see him as his annoyingly enthusiastic older brother.

“Dear friends!,” Falena greeted the boys with a smile. “Could you let me steal Leona for a moment?”

This was such a surprise that the second prince turned his head back.

“Oh, we don’t mind, Your Majesty,” Vil spoke for the group, smiling politely.

Leona rolled his eyes. It was like he was being handed over like a pesky stray cat off someone’s backyard.

Jack was thinking of a form to add any type of positive comments — to at least take that very impression out of the room — but he remained silent as the dorm leader assured him in a simple hand gesture that it wasn’t necessary.

Falena noticed this as his brother stood up. Every one of them had their own opinions on Leona. Well, mixed opinions it seemed. Personally, he would like to know how his little brother was doing at Night Raven College — but he would have to wait a bit longer to hear about Leona’s school adventures.

Falena waved a goodbye to Cheka and Naru, leaving them in the hands of their caretakers, the meerkat-man chamberlain Monti and the warthog-man cook — who also acted as the little prince’s personal aide — Zakki, and the remaining boys.

Then the brothers left the balcony and walked through the halls in complete silence. No one dared disturb their course. Even a falling leaf could be heard in the distance.

After a few minutes of walking beside his brother without facing him, Leona eventually realized that they were walking through more and more empty corridors inside the palace. Places he almost forgot existed. It seemed that they had crossed the entire construction when Falena opened for him a door hidden behind a large dark red wall-tapestry.

Behind the secret passage, there was a large field that was part of the royal estate but remained in the shadow of the towers and higher floors. Further away, Leona recognized a part of the field with a large tree as the marking for the Cemetery of the Kings of the Past.

“Why did you bring me here?,” he finally spoke to his brother, although he had a confused frown on his brows.

“It's a quiet, peaceful place,” Falena said. “Because it’s the Royal Cemetery, anyone who does not consider here an inhospitable place certainly knows that it is sacred so even servants and guards would never think of looking for a secret passage or opening the door.”

“So what?”

“I wish you could find rest here.”

Because Leona had a tremendously surprised expression, Falena added quickly:

“N-no! I’m not talking to you to rest forever here! No way! Please don’t even think...!,” then he took a deep breath to recompose himself. “What I mean, Leona, is that here it will be much easier to hide from the palace than in your room. Cheka is terribly afraid of those hallways, even if he won’t admit it.”

It was Leona’s turn to take a deep breath and facepalm, bewildered by that whole situation. He had not confused Falena’s words — though, come to think of it, it would indeed be a strange thing to say normally — and remained in the dark as to why he was being introduced to that place.

“Are you letting me stay here? Is that it?,” Leona questioned.

“Yes. Consider it my holiday gift.”

“Have you... gone insane? Is the crown so heavy that you hit your head on the floor one of these days?”

Falena bit his tongue, trying not to be discouraged in his convictions, nor to let himself be contaminated by the acidity of his brother’s words.

Leona could be an excellent diplomat when he wanted. Emphasis on “when he wanted”. But what was occurring at the present moment was no disaster of etiquette. It was how Leona usually talked to his older brother.

Sarcasm and irony were always at their peak. Boredom dictated the harmony of his voice. And, above all, resentment oozed through the thorniest sentences like burning sulfur.

Falena could feel it more than ever. They weren’t just brothers who couldn’t get along like normal families had. There was a large scar between them, completely exposed and fragile.

There was no point in pressing mere band-aids there, hoping to disappear with the cut. Something needed to be done to improve the healing process and not allow inflammations. It would be painful and difficult. However, wasting time was no longer on Falena’s mind. If he were going to stop the blood, he should do it now.

It was then Leona felt something different when Falena looked up at him.

Anyone who might have had the chance to observe them — however deserted the place was — might have seen the reflection of the king’s normally radiant countenance. However, only his young brother was close enough to understand that it wasn’t his usual glow.

“I gave you many gifts and allowed you to do whatever you wanted in a clumsy and vain hope that... “Falena sighed but kept going. “...things could be arranged. But it’s not that simple. In fact, by trying to please you, I was making the situation worse. But Leona...!”

His voice grew stronger, pouring out all its honesty like good rain in the midst of drought and desolation.

“I don’t know what to do, that’s the truth! Maybe I’ll never know. If our father was still well, I could try to take his advice... but all this damage is already done. You walk in and out of here with your head held high but with a terrible feeling in your heart. Like this it’s not even your home.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. You don’t know how I feel,” Leona looked away, annoyed.

“Of course I don’t know! You don’t tell me!”

So Leona turned to Falena again, torn between putting the matter aside or contesting it in the adrenaline rush that awoke in his heart. Actually, he wasn’t sure what to answer. And as if Falena could finally after all those years read his little brother’s thoughts, he smiled softly.

“Talk about it when you feel the time has come. It doesn’t even have to be with me, if you don’t want to. For now, a place of silence and comfort is all I can indicate to you.”

“Indicate?”

“Yeah. Because you are still the Prince of the Savannah. You have rights like any of our bloodline,” Falena touched Leona’s shoulder and looked deep into his brother’s green eyes. “You can come here whenever you want. You always could.”

A strong breeze passed by the brothers but they didn’t move even a flinch. Small leaves of various colors, dust and the familiar smell of the savannah continued on its way, as if it were a ghost of one of the Kings of the Past who wanted to spy on the strange scene unfolding there on sacred territory.

Gently, Falena’s hand left Leona and joined his other hand. He wasn’t feeling cowed at least. On the contrary, he was satisfied for the first time with an action he did. His smile didn’t waver.

“Well, if you want to take a break, I’ll let your friends know and…”

“Falena,” Leona called.

He mirrored his older brother’s expression with his words. For a moment, Leona felt like a child again. Not in the sense of feeling small and powerless. But, as it was in the old days. The good times when things were in their place and Falena still had time to afford to teach him to play chess.

“Thanks. Or something like that.”

Leona stared at a distant spot in the landscape, not looking directly into Falena’s eyes.

He didn’t feel ready yet for that type of situation and had doubts about his brother’s intentions. He never thought he would say that, but hanging out with his classmates and holding his own patience seemed much easier than dealing with the scars of the past.

But something inside him knew that Falena understood what he was doing. It could be a part that Leona hid from his own peripheral vision on purpose, almost always to the point of completely forgetting its existence. Yet it was still there inside him.

“But I’ll have to leave it for another time. I have to lead a pack of warthogs’ backsides to a festival, remember?,” Leona retorted, going back to the exit. “Later. Who knows.”

Falena let out a laugh that made his brother stop for a moment. He looked like he was going to comment on something but then gave up.

“Well, always feel welcome. And I’ll be watching it all from somewhere. Above all: have fun, Leona!”

And then, Falena gave the biggest smile Leona had ever seen before. Perhaps it wasn't just an impression that his aura of majesty was different. It wasn’t like it got any worse, though.

It was as if an immense weight had left Falena’s shoulders and he rejuvenated like the dawn sun as he reached for his little brother’s step. They continued without saying anything on the way back, following the path in a very rare and comfortable silence.

It was the first step towards a new ending.

Falena also felt a different energy coming from Leona and his gaze accompanied him throughout the visit, questioning within himself how people couldn’t even see the resplendent light coming from Leona. Or maybe they did — it was his final conclusion — and they didn’t know what to make of it.

But Falena knew. And he felt a deep joy to have a younger brother like Leona. Smart and strategic, able to stand on his own two feet, courageous. Even friendly — although the boy didn’t like to admit it.

For the first time in a long time, Falena could have a peaceful night of starry dreams. He never had that nightmare again. He was dreaming of a bright future ahead. Some moment in time when Leona could feel happy doing whatever he wanted. Where Cheka would be a wonderful king and Maisha would still be there by his side.

And Falena would live long to see all this.

Special notes: Uh, I haven’t actually watched anything from the Tamashina Mina event so I don’t even know if they acknowledge Falena’s presence at some point. But this is what I think happened. And I feel particularly relieved about writing this story bc I love Falena due to my memories of Mufasa. I don’t think canon will ever prove me wrong but even so, this is the version of good ol’ Falena that I love the most <3 Thank you for the attention!

#twisted wonderland #falena kingscholar #leona kingscholar #cheka kingscholar #twst fanfic #angst #angst with a hopeful ending #platonic relationships #family relations #savanaclaw #cherry's writing #cherry's mumbling about twst

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precious-little-scoundrel · 2 months

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I love that with their spicyness, Bucky and Lana’s love is still so… pure? Like they’re it for eachother. They know each other’s value and they will never take advantage of each other. Their relationship is so beautiful. I can’t wait to see more of them together 🫶🏼

This is so sweet and so accurate and exactly what I’m trying to spin with their story! Thank you, my love! Ok, ok you’ve praised a little dribble of a draft out of me, straight from docs, night they first meet:

Dear John Fragment 💌💋: (spoilers duh)

There is a crackle between them that has nothing to do with the fuzzy phone line or the patter of falling rain on the glass panes around them, no lightning in the sky but her finger tips buzz and like magnets; they meet each other. A brutal, awful, needy kiss. Smashing their faces together without much finesse but pouring out an admittance of so much need it��s quite painful. She can feel Bucky tugging at her hair and forcing her face closer when his nose is already shoving aside her own and his lips are working desperately against hers and oh -he’s got such fire in him! He’s thrumming around her and she can hear herself squeaking like a choir girl at the way he helps himself to her body like he saw through her hesitancy all along. She hardly recognizes the crazed creature that meets him at every step with hunger and provocation, when his tongue gently dabs at her lip she swallows him whole, when his hand strays from her waist to her breast she finds herself expanding a breath to fully fill his palm, begging him to take take take.

“I want you so bad.” he hisses like he’s angry at her for being so intoxicating, for robbing him of the ability to breathe. Egan shakes her as he says it, jolts of her neck that fling her hair back with each jerk and her mouth goes dry at his brute strength just barely restrained.

“You’ve waited this long, can’t you be good?”she teases him only to be repaid with an needy snarl and a bonk of her head against the glass as he kissed her again.

She’s not sure why she teased, her nylons are soaked and her own kisses suggest how dire it’s all become for her, having him so near and potent. It’s only she’s not at all sure what she meant by it, what could possibly be finished in this open space. It’s a little fishbowl and the stormy night gives all the ambience to lull her into imagining it’s private but god knows what’s in the jet black night, looking on at the spectacle of the looming Major and his little floozy smashing faces and gripping shirts. She’d let him take her in a hedge at this rate, just not under the bare bulb hanging above them.

But oh, he looks so beautiful in this light.

And if ever anyone spelled need, in its rawest, basest, most flatteringly primal way, it’s John Egan pressing her to the red paned glass of a rural phone booth, an oddly calming smirk on his face and an unarguable thigh beginning to wedge its way between her legs. There could be anyone out there but somehow that doesn’t seem important anymore, not like his large hands do, tenderly cupping her cheeks. Or his belly pressing into hers with his next kiss, the way his lips have grown more insistent while regaining some measured dominance. She finds herself rocking against his strong leg without even thinking, following the instincts his passion raises in her.

#dear John blurb #mota blurbs #love notes #💌asks

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bengiyo · 11 months

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La Pluie and the Exploration of Romance, Competence, and Queerness

It’s Sunday, so you know I had to get an essay in about this eighth episode of La Pluie. This week I want to dive into the ways that La Pluie is interrogating the nature of Romance as a genre, the ways it enables its characters to be competent, and how all this plays into its specific queer ideas.

All of the gifs in the post were borrowed from my good friend @liyazaki who I am most happy to have convinced to join us in watching this show.

The Rain Connection and Lomfon

I want to get this out of the way first, because we don’t know enough for me to want to spend a ton of time speculating on this. We know that there aren’t a lot of people in the world with Rain-Based Hearing Loss, and we know that only a small subsection of them have a connection with other people.

screenshot by @respectthepetty

When Lomfon falls here, it seems like he has the same pain we saw Tai experience the first time he developed a connection with Patts on his 20th birthday. Thus far, we don’t know if Lomfon has experienced hearing loss in his life. We were discussing this yesterday, and @lurkingshan went back to look at the café scene with Lomfon in episode 5, and it didn’t seem like Lomfon experienced hearing loss when it began raining there.

What I think is most significant about Lomfon suddenly developing a connection with seemingly Patts and Tai (this show has not tried to misdirect or trick us up to this point, so I am choosing to read the scene as if he heard both of them until we get new information) is that Lomfon has thus far been the most vocal skeptic about the societal assumptions that people connected by hearing loss should be in romantic relationships with each other. I think this will bring significant drama into the plot because he’s been developing something with Tien, and it will challenge Tien to have feelings for someone with a rain connection to someone else.

I’m not even reading into this as a throuple, because this show has expressed clearly that soulmates are an opportunity more than anything else, and the nature of this story and its references to the MacKade brothers assures me that this is going to be about two couples. @lurkingshan and @ginnymoonbeam already covered the rest of this as well.

Everyone is Competent, and Everyone is Valid

One of my favorite things about this show thus far is that no one has been especially stupid about their feelings. The most dramatic and dangerous thing anyone has done so far was Tai trying to climb a mountain on his own and realizing quickly that he had made a huge mistake.

We learn that Tai understood exactly what had happened with Nara kissing Patts and was not mad about it. He was upset that it felt like their soulmate connection ruined a genuinely good relationship Patts and Nara, and he questioned the veracity of his and Patts’ feelings for each other. Moreover, the show allows Nara to be upset about her rejection. Her feelings and her relationship with Patts were real and deserving of respect. She is also a character who possesses grace, and insists that Patts find Saengtai even though the two of them just had an emotionally devastating final breakup.

Patts realizes within minutes what Saengtai had done and immediately sets about looking for him. Even if the other vet should have reconsidered sending Saengtai into that situation with Patts and Nara, everyone responded appropriately to the crisis by trying to search for Saengtai and predict his behaviors in a crisis. Kung, who says she’s responsible for them, detailed the dangers of the mountain and made a vehicle available to them immediately.

As for Tien, he’s a hot-headed guy, and blamed himself for not recognizing what his brother would do right away. Lomfon also talks him down from running after his brother with logic as well. When Tien finally reunites with his brother, he sternly chides him for running into danger before collapsing on his brother.

In every episode before this, I have really enjoyed how everyone has been good at their jobs and operating from a believable emotional space. Little conflict on this show has felt contrived, and I’ve enjoyed how each challenge extends naturally from the setting itself and the initial plot seeds surrounding Tai’s parents’ divorce.

Our Expectations of Romance

Probably my favorite thing about La Pluie has been the way it grapples with the nature of Romance itself. Though the show has been explicit in its skepticism about destined romance, everything in this show says that we’ll end up with two couples. Everyone in this is a character in a story with a role to play in its narrative.

Multiple characters, like us in the audience, have already assumed that Patts and Tai are endgame because of their rain connection. Tien already treats Patts like his brother-in-law. Tai’s dad already teased about the accelerated pace of a soulmate relationship. Bow came on this trip to make sure Tai makes (sexual) progress with Patts. Multiple members of the vet crew have teased Patts about his concern for Saengtai. Yet, it’s this presumption that has been the primary struggle of their relationship so far.

How fascinating is it that the primary drama of a couple in a romance is that everyone (including the audience) expects them to get together as a foregone conclusion? What are the emotional underpinnings of their relationship that will give them the tools to succeed in the long term? It’s that concern that makes Tai so cautious about moving forward with Patts. He’s worried he’ll make the same mistakes his parents made.

The run up the mountain was necessary for Saengtai as a character, because he needed to face himself. He finally reached the conclusion that many of us reached weeks ago. But as the song says, “no one else can feel it for you; only you can let it in.”

And isn’t that also the point? Does it matter if they’re supposed to be together or not? What matters is they choose each other.

Patts is such a gentle man. He is incredibly patient, and the kind of partner I think Saengtai has hoped for his whole life. This is the man who doesn’t yell at him for endangering himself, sits quietly as Saengtai finally unloads all of the fears and doubts he’s struggled with, and makes sure that Saengtai gets all of the moments he’s hoped for in his life by asking him the question even if we all know the answer already, because Patts is a man who understands that it’s important to do things right.

And how does Tai respond to that moment? By giving them and us what we all need:

Let me just say again while we’re here that I love the way these two kiss. I love the way each kiss has been choreographed. You can track the beats of their relationship through their intimate scenes.

Look at this! We’ve been begging for couple kisses for years, and really only Bad Buddy has given them to us.

It’s just so important that the characters earned the understanding together that what matters most for them is that they love each other (@lurkingshan).

On To the Gay Stuff

I’m not the first person to talk about the inherent queerness of the rain connection. Tai and Patts have both expressed that they would choose not to have this condition if possible. For many of us who grew up queer, that feeling will be extremely familiar. I certainly screamed, prayed, and hoped that I wouldn’t be this way when I first started noticing it within myself at eight years old and throughout my entire adolescence. Yet what matters is how we choose to live with it.

I don’t care if Patts and Tai are destined soul mates, or just two compatible guys who will have this strange connection for the rest of their lives (and maybe with Lomfon too??). What matters to me is they stared at the hand they were dealt and chose to build something they can both enjoy together.

What I really hope we get in the final third of this show is Tai coming to terms with his parents’ divorce. I hope my theory that Tai’s dad is queer is correct, and I hope that Tai learns to respect the choice they’ve made. I hope that if Lomfon is in their rain connection long term, they all find a way to find peace with that, especially for Tien’s sake.

As a queer viewer, I enjoy shows the most when they feel like they come from a space that queer people specifically experience. This show uses the expectations that the world places on who we’re supposed to be with and how we’re supposed to live as a way to replicate the experience of heteronormativity, and still lets these two men choose each other.

La Pluie is a special show in a year of special shows. I have no idea how we’re going to handle awards when we do the VIIB Awards on @the-conversation-pod at the end of the year, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop talking about this show.

Thank you for coming to my post.

Shoutouts to @wen-kexing-apologist @kyr-kun-chan for talking through all of this with me yesterday as well.

#la pluie #la pluie meta #thai bl #bl series #usermor #la pluie the series #Ben watches

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klausinamarink · 4 months

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In Thunder, Lightning, Or In Rain

rating: M | cw: major character death, mild gore | tags: witch Steve, necromancy, rituals, brief appearance of possessive Steve | wc: 992

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 20: Magic au

Despite the roar of thunder above him, Steve continued his trek into the woods. He stomped hard onto the still-fresh footprints of the crowd that had passed here. Beneath his boots, the ground smothered and turned the new trail into golden-red flecks of ember, floating towards the town by the growing winds.

The willow trees wept to Steve, their leaves brushing across his raised shoulders and wet cheeks. We tried to stop them. We heard his cries but we had done nothing. One older willow stopped him for a moment’s notice, pleading for his mercy. I offered shelter for you and your beloved but they burned my fingers when I reached out.

Steve forgave them all. You made your attempts but do not harm yourselves, he told them. The older willow tree wept again and let him go.

Lightning flashed in the sky. Steve sparsely caught his reflection on the bubbling creek. He looked disheveled. His hair was tangled in different directions, his clothes looked baggy, tears stained his cheeks, and his hands were already from gripping the shovel and ax for so long.

The creek with its minnows and newts lamented for him. We tried to stop them. We tried to drown them but they shoved his head into us. Our waters have always been refreshing to both of you so we couldn’t end him, even in his suffering.

Steve forgave them all. You were always kind and accommodating to us so do not poison your waters with your suffering, he told them and continued on his way.

As he reached the end of the trail, where the embers under his boots stopped burning at the tainted clearing, thunder and lightning embraced each other at once. Then it began to rain. Thick droplets landed on the new grave, twisting the torn up ground awake. They wailed to him.

They’ve hurt him. They hurt us. We tried to stop. But their feet trampled on us and spilled his blood like it was their precious alcohol. They’ve violated the grounds of your loving embraces into this.

Steve forgave them all. Please do not hurt yourselves, but take your revenge on anyone who trespassed here, he told them. The ruined ground wailed again, their cries going silent as Steve started digging.

They haven’t buried him too deep. When Steve saw why, his anger turned the thunder deafening.

They had cut Eddie’s body apart. His bloodied head was placed under his arm, which was missing a hand. His torso had chunks of flesh missing and was only attached to his legs by a single intestine. His feet looked like they had been broken by a hammer.

Steve kept his tears secure in his eyes, careful not to spill them onto Eddie’s remains as he tenderly lifted him out. Once his body was found whole, Steve wrapped him around a quilt like he was tucking in a child for a long journey.

Underneath his knees, the ground wailed again and turned angry, rolling down to the south. Steve stood up and picked up the ax again. The ground was already sinking a blond man, whom Steve recognized at once.

“Witch!” Jason Carver spat, his hair drenched on his forehead, “Release me and face punishment.”

Steve shed exactly three drops of tears as he raised the ax above him.

To revive a soul is to sacrifice a soul, no matter how good or wicked either may be.

—

In his secure and well-hidden covered wagon, Steve worked feverishly in the dark. He shook not with the cold, but with grief and exhaustion. He had rushed back to the town once the winds carried Dustin’s panicked news of the accusations against Eddie for suspected murder and witchcraft. But even though his return failed to prevent Eddie’s fate, Steve refused to let his beloved rot from such injustice.

The storm rattled on, contempt in his aid.

He finished the stitching, cutting the thread with his grandmother’s golden scissors. Then he took the moon-crescent silver knife and carved it into his left side. Steve focused onto the rapid plattering of the rain as the blade touched his sixth rib bone. Once the rib was cut, Steve dragged the knife so it slit easily through his flesh, allowing the bone to come out.

He gently placed his rob bone in Eddie’s hands, positioned to be crossed over his chest, right above where his heart would start again.

Steve lit the candles. Two on both sides of Eddie’s head and seven at his feet. Representing the two lives his lover will now have and the seven realms that gifted magic at every witch’s fingertips.

Steve placed his hands firmly on top of Eddie’s still chest. He sucked in a deep breath and, after hours of containment, finally screamed out his anguish.

In between the short pauses for air, Steve thought of every memory he had with Eddie. Their first run-in at the market, Eddie’s musical flirting, Steve growing a sunflower in between their cupped hands, their first lovemaking, and the very last kiss Eddie had given him when Steve had left.

The flames of the candles grew brighter and taller. Steve could no longer hear the thunder. His horrible cries filled the wagon more. He tasted the salt of tears as they fell onto Eddie’s unmoving face.

An ice-cold breeze passed through Steve’s body, silencing him. He dared not to look up, for no one knows what their own death would look like, even to the Foresights. He kept his eyes on Eddie, watching and waiting for the first sign of life.

A small light-blue wisp fled through Eddie’s lips. Then his eyes shot open, coughing and gasping for air. His chest finally heaved underneath Steve’s hands, though he only removed once he felt the confident heart beat.

As Steve held Eddie close and tight, thanking for his lover’s second chance, he Swore to him to never let Eddie escape his sight again.

#klaus writes #steddie #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles

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dream-this-nightmare-over · 9 months

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Joe Cole imagine

This one is for @shelundeadxxxx (i see you bestie), and @fckyeahjoecole (wake up bestie wherever you are, its been 5 years since we heard from you yet your posts are curing my new obsession), and @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown cause you are hoe for this man just like me.

You can find more of my imagines in my book Imagines on wattpad.

Hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed getting lost in this daydream and eventually sitting down to write it.

Text came on 21st of July out of nowhere when y/n already thought it will be another cold summer.

'You me 9pm screening'

Joe never forgot his friend and deal they made on one of Ed's dinner parties or was it on some other occasion they gravitated almost always toward each other naturally pulled through people who's attention never brought peace like that of a friend in mischief. They would find each other and leave the crowd or stick to each other making rounds settling in corner with champagne and micro cupcakes making up what they taste like cause trends all seem to be tasteless left to one's interpretation, making fun of pumpered faces who only knew to call them out for being themselves.

They were going to see Oppenheimer together, on opening day. It was pinky promise sealed with smiles that even from shadows put candlelight to shame.

They meet outside, under glow of newly installed Barbenheimer titles at entrance, when heat died down a bit, and dusk rushed to its paintbrushes coloring hastily sky in purples and blues, overneeded relief in scenery. 'Hey you!' Joe excitedly greets coming toward y/n. As she was watching him come closer, mental image appeared and it grew bigger until he was in his full John attire walking John walk spreading his arms sassy and coy, feisty edges softened to gentleness and consideration irl. Perhaps this is why its so easy to fall for actors: they can be anybody they can play into any role we think of in our heads, its easy to imagine them following another script, no one knows who they really are, a mold for imaginative minds, perhaps even they don't recognize the reflection without all the makeup and pretence, it's easier to look at world through anyone's eyes but your own. They share their significant handshake, he doesn't part but pulls her in quick hug and they fall in easy chatter of laughs and jokes. It was hard to believe y/n will see any of the movie cause his eyes held her whole world and attention and thoughts captive. No imagination could compete with real thing. Drown me in you, for i am sinner.

In one incredibly brave moment during movie, Joe looked over at his friend, in darkness he can let go of his shyness social restraints loose it's okay to give air to your feelings and appreciate the moment indulge in secret admiration he will mask with smile when caught; from blue shadows playing on her face thought arose flickered into wonder what would cillian think of them together, if maybe he had it already figured out, he wondered if it's possible to love without flexing about it, if anything can survive without going through ordeal of condemnation, and he was pained to conclude this friendship is too sacred for world to touch it with their critical prejudicial opinions. But then she smiled at him quizzically and he knew he thinks too much. Love finds a way. It curves like river changes environment reshapes the world until it finds its freedom.

Neither wished for night to end. It was too late to chase one masterpiece with another, so they decided to meet tomorrow at same time to see Barbie.

They walked from cinema aimlessly wandering through town, hoping they never run out of pathways that lead to merging point from where no goodbye needs to be said again.

He held her hand never letting go laughing as she laughed at stars, pulled her back and spun her around in the middle of street under street lamp, slow danced night away, until sudden rain sent them running opera reaching its crescendo. They stood under his jacket he kept overhead covered stage them main characters , everything is funny if company is non judgemental, pitter-patter matching musical of hearts clock ticking midnight, y/n was lost in haze from when he put his arm around her in the dark and kept it there through breaks and credits as she showed him reaction memes that were already pouring Internet and they compared their experience with 'same. Omg so true. He killed it. Omg yes that part was something else'

She stayed the night, on his couch. He left the door open so they never feel too far away, he didn't want to keep walls when around her, he was tired of feeling forced separation from what he wants, forced pretence forced silencing of hapiness found.

On brink of slipping away, he realised he didn't kiss her. There will come time for that. Right words aren't born yet. But it's all in the making.

They went to show love for their friend Cillian but it was all masterly planned and excuted excuse to show love for each other.

In the morning, they checked the earliest showtime for barbie and went cause they were too excited to wait and there was no real reason to, since yesterday turned into tomorrow, friends turned to I never want you to go, time was theirs to make or break but they were way ahead of doubt it can't catch them now. Joe only smirked when y/n pulled bright shade of pink lipstick form her bag and offered it to him with innocent mischief written in her eye, he smirked cause her knew he will love her for the rest of the time they have together. He wouldnt check even if he had chance. Destiny can't be manipulated, so what's the point of knowing the outcome, you can't enjoy the ride if you only worry about the the end. End comes whether we try to fight the current or go with the flow. So why not relax and enjoy?

It was y/n's couch from then on.

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