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buckets-and-trees · 4 months ago

Note

I’d like to point out this man’s insane hotness🥵

Also… imagine needing a place to sit and Bucky tells you to sit on his lap😍

I've been sitting on this one for ages, Shannon, I'm sorry! But I was waiting for a storyline that truly swept me away because this look and the potential for this moment couldn't be squandered if I was going to take a stab at it...

Poison Blood from the Wound of the Pricked Hand

Characters/Pairings: Post TFATWS!Bucky x curvy!Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: You've made a life-altering decision, and even though it feels like the only choice you could have made, you hope it's the right one, and you hope the man you're being forced to rely on tonight will help you accomplish what you need to, or else your life could be at stake - not to mention the safety of so many others.

Content/Warnings: intense physical intimicy, but no actual smut (I know, shocker)

Author Notes: Possibly the last piece for the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend! And, yes late, but the final piece to complete out my collection for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - week twelve "what should I wear?"

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“How are things going in there?” Bucky called loudly to you.

“Um…” There was a long pause, before you called back, “Fine.”

You glanced at the clock.

You knew at this rate you were going to make the two of you late. But that only ate at you more. You weren’t trying to cause problems.

Or, rather, you weren’t trying to cause more problems. You already felt like a walking liability.

All you had tried to do was get out of the danger of your brother’s organization.

You had finally gone to the authorities, looking to make some kind of deal for safety, maybe witness protection, you didn’t know exactly how these things worked, only that you had to leave.

But evidently things had been even worse and more complicated than you knew, and the price for safety had come with strings.

They needed more information, and they saw you as a means to be able to get it.

And so they’d dangled a deal that required you to play your part as a trusted member of the family one more time.

You had only been gone for just over twenty-four hours, so it wasn’t likely that your brother would suspect your defection yet. But it was so recent that you still felt unsettled over whether you’d made the right decision - especially now that it wasn’t a clean break and you were being used be the people you expected to be the good guys.

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s voice broke through your thoughts again.

You shook your head. Since he was in the other room, there was no danger in him seeing your doubt and uncertainty.

Of all the moving parts in this scheme, Bucky was possibly the only piece you thought you might be able to trust. His reputation preceded him as someone more than capable of handling any dangerous situation, but he also seemed to harbor a question in his mind over working this operation and trusting the government agencies who had a hand in this.

You sighed, then bit your lip. The clock ticked relentlessly, each second a reminder of your indecision. Your eyes darted between two outfits laid out on the bed, both chosen with care but now seeming woefully inadequate for the task ahead.

You sighed, your eyes darting between the two outfits laid out on the bed. One was a sleek black dress, form-fitting and elegant, with a high neckline and long sleeves that would conceal the nervous goosebumps prickling your skin. The other, a tailored pantsuit in deep navy, exuded an air of professionalism and confidence you wished you felt.

Both outfits were carefully chosen to blend in at the high-stakes charity gala where you'd be making your reappearance in your brother's world. But which one would better sell the lie? Which one would make you look like you hadn't just betrayed everything you'd ever known?

You ran your fingers over the cool silk of the dress, then the crisp wool of the suit jacket. The clock's incessant ticking seemed to grow louder with each passing moment, mocking your indecision.

You needed to look like your old self, the trusted sister, and you’d worn clothes just like these a hundred times before. But now?

And with the added caveat of needing to have a brand new man on your arm and sell that he was a valid new part of your life, too?

You grabbed both hangers and went out into the living room of your apartment where Bucky had been patiently waiting for you.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly as you emerged from the bedroom, clothes in hand. He was sitting on the couch, hands in his lap, already dressed in a sharp looking suit with leather lapels - edgy but impressive. For a moment, you were struck by how different he looked from the dangerous operative turned superhero you knew him to be. He looked like he could effortlessly blend into the opulent setting you expected tonight.

"I can't decide," you admitted, your voice hesitant. "Which one do you think would be more… convincing?"

Bucky's gaze flickered between the two outfits, then back to your face. His expression softened, and you saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

"The dress," he said after a moment. "It's more in line with what you'd typically wear to these events, right? We don't want to raise any suspicions by changing your style too drastically."

You nodded, grateful for his insight. "You're right. Thank you."

As you turned to go back to the bedroom, Bucky's voice stopped you. "Hey," he said softly, his blue eyes searching your face. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready."

For a moment, you were tempted to take the out he was offering. To tell him you couldn't go through with it, that you'd made a mistake. But then you thought of your brother, of all the people he'd hurt, and you steeled yourself.

"No, I can do this. Besides,” you thought of all the things you’d learned in different meetings and conversations and reports today, “this is our best chance to get the information we need to bring him and the rest of the organization down.”

“But it doesn’t have to be you,” he insisted.

You tilted your head and smiled sadly. “But it should be.” They had been planning to try and infiltrate tonight’s gala before you had presented yourself, but with you, you were practically a golden ticket into the event and into so many more of the areas once inside.

Bucky nodded, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Alright. But remember, I'll be right there with you the whole time. If anything feels off, just give me the signal and we're out of there."

You nodded, grateful for his reassurance. As you headed back to the bedroom to change, you couldn't help but wonder how convincing you and Bucky would be as a couple. You'd only known each other for a day, and while he seemed kind and protective, there was still so much mystery surrounding him.

As you undressed, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You'd been to countless events like this before, schmoozing with the elite and corrupt. But never as a double agent, never with the weight of so many lives hanging in the balance, and certainly not since discovering the secret that had shattered your world and opened up your eyes to the fact that everything your brother was involved in was corrupt and dangerous.

As you slipped into the black dress, you couldn't help but feel like you were putting on armor for battle. The silk clung to your skin, cool and familiar, yet somehow foreign now. You zipped it up, fingered the neckline, then pressed your hand to your heart and took a deep breath.

In the mirror, you saw the woman you used to be—poised, elegant, the perfect sister to a powerful man. But your eyes betrayed you, filled with a storm of emotions you'd have to learn to hide in the next few minutes.

You applied your makeup with practiced precision, each stroke of mascara and swipe of lipstick another layer of protection, of disguise. Once satisfied with your appearance, you squared your shoulders, and put the lipstick in your clutch.

You emerged from the bedroom, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “I’m ready.”

Bucky’s eyes roamed over you appreciatively, and you felt something pool in your stomach - the attraction to this man you’d been trying to ignore since you’d been introduced to him early this morning. You could not have a crush on this man who was supposed to infiltrate your brother’s organization with you, steal information, and try and get both of you out safely.

It would be too much of a distraction.

Bucky's lips quirked into a small smile.

“What?” you asked, suspicious.

“You forgot your shoes,” he said simply.

You looked down and sighed.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone kind, soft.

"Bucky," you said, looking back at him, "how are we supposed to explain your presence? Won't my brother be suspicious of a new man in my life?"

"We've got a cover story. I'm a potential new investor in your brother's 'business ventures.' You met me at a networking event last week and thought I'd be a good fit for tonight's gala."

You raised an eyebrow. "And you just happened to sweep me off my feet?”

"Something like that," Bucky replied with a roguish smile. "We'll keep it vague - a whirlwind romance, sparks flying. Your brother will be more focused on the potential investment than on our relationship."

You nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't just nerves about the mission now; the idea of pretending to be swept off your feet by Bucky wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Right," you said, forcing yourself to focus. "I'll just go grab those shoes."

You hurried back to the bedroom, slipping on a pair of elegant black heels. As you turned to leave, your eyes fell on a framed photo on the nightstand - you and your brother at last year's gala, both smiling widely. Your stomach churned. How had you been so blind?

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the guilt down and away. You needed to do this. There was no other path in your mind now that you knew the truth. Your eyes flicked from the frame to the luggage packed next to your door. When you’d left yesterday, you hadn’t taken anything with you, not wanting to draw suspicion. With this return to your place and the cover of being swept into something with Bucky, it gave you the cover to pack some of your things - luggage that was being picked up and taken care of for you by one of this “rich investor’s” staff to go with you on a two-week vacation to a private island in the Phillippines. It was a perfect cover, provided you could sell it.

He was so handsome, with his dark hair styled perfectly and his strong jawline. Still sitting on the couch, he radiated confidence and charm, making it easy to see why he was chosen for this mission. You couldn't help but feel slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

Bucky's eyes flicked over your ensemble. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice low and husky.

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thank you," you replied shyly.

You’d been so worried about all the other logistics of tonight, you hadn’t thought about the believability of you and Bucky until now.

“Come here,” he said, holding a hand out to you. You crossed the room and took it, gasping as he pulled you down to sit across his lap.

“Bucky,” you protested, insecure about sitting all of your plus-sized body in his lap. You had never been comfortable with your few previous partners in this situation, but he pressed one cool vibranium finger to your lips, while his other hand moved softly up and down your back.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “You’ll need to look comfortable around me when I touch you, and if your brother is going to believe you’ve agreed to go away with me tonight, I can’t touch you for the first time while we’re there.”

You nodded. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you shivered.

You felt a flush creep up your neck as Bucky's lips brushed your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but you could feel the strength in his arms as he held you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself further. He seemed unconcerned, even happy to hold all of you, and the contrast between his warm flesh hand and the cool metal of his other arm sent tingles down your spine.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot on your neck.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Your heart was racing, and you weren't sure if it was from nerves about the mission or the proximity of this dangerously attractive man.

Bucky's hand traced lazy circles on your back, and you found yourself relaxing into his touch despite your better judgment. "We need to look natural together," he explained softly. "Like we can't keep our hands off each other. It'll sell the whirlwind romance angle."

You swallowed hard, trying keep it together.

Bucky's hand continued its soothing motion up and down your back, and you found yourself leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.

"Tell me more about your brother," Bucky said softly. "What should I expect?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of your brother, but Bucky's steady presence kept you grounded. "He's… charming," you began, choosing your words carefully. "Charismatic. He can make anyone feel like the most important person in the room. But there's always an agenda behind it."

Bucky nodded, his fingers still tracing patterns on your back. "And how does he usually react to you bringing someone new around?"

You sighed, leaning your head against Bucky's shoulder. "He's protective. Suspicious. I haven’t brought many men around. He'll probably try to get you alone, size you up."

"I can handle that," Bucky assured you, his voice low and confident.

You lifted your head to look at him, suddenly struck by how close your faces were. His blue eyes were intense, searching yours. "Bucky," you whispered, "what if I can't pull this off?"

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly across your skin. "We will," he said firmly. It didn’t escape your notice that he’d said we, not allowing you to feel alone. "You're stronger than you think, and I've got your back.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Underneath that charm, he's calculating. Always looking for an angle, a way to use people. And he's dangerous when he feels threatened."

Before, you hadn’t questioned his cold side, thought it to usually be warranted, protective of you and the family and his organization. But now you knew better, illusion shattered.

Bucky nodded, his expression grave. "I'll be on high alert," he assured you. "We'll have to make sure he sees me as an asset, not a threat. But remember, we're not there to confront him tonight. Just to gather information."

"Right," you said, trying to calm your racing heart. "Just information."

Bucky's hand resumed landed on your thigh, and he squeezed reassuringly. You put your hand over his.

"Good," he murmured, eyes dropping down to your coupled hands. "That's the kind of reaction we need."

You nodded, trying to focus on the mission, on the act you needed to sell. But it was becoming increasingly difficult with Bucky's strong arm around you, his warm breath on your neck.

"We should practice," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if... what if we need to kiss?"

Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something darker, more intense. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "We need to be convincing, right?"

Without another word, Bucky's hand slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, soft at first, then with growing intensity. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to his chest. The stubble on his jaw scratched lightly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

For a moment, you forgot about the mission, about your brother, about everything except the feel of Bucky's lips on yours. It felt electric, a spark of something real amidst all the deception you were about to undertake. His metal arm tightened around your waist, and you gasped softly into his mouth.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Bucky's eyes were dark with desire. "That was..." he started, then cleared his throat. "That should be convincing enough.”

You nodded, unable to form words. The kiss had felt all too real, and you were struggling to remind yourself that this was just part of the act. You couldn't afford to develop real feelings for Bucky, not with everything at stake.

"We should go," you managed to say, glancing at the clock. "We don't want to be late."

Bucky nodded, but neither of you moved.

Then you leaned in and kissed him again. He returned your kiss, metal arm pulling you even closer. Your hands tangled into his hair, and you shifted in his lap so you could press your chest flush against his.

"We really should go," you murmured against Bucky's lips when you had to break off for another breath, but made no move to pull away.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, all thoughts of the mission momentarily forgotten. There was only the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin.

Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength coiled beneath his suit jacket. Bucky's flesh hand slid from your hair down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You gasped softly at the contact, and he took the opportunity to trace your lower lip with his tongue. Heat pooled in your stomach as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss further.

His vibrainum hand continued its exploration down your body, while his warm, flesh hand stayed at the small of your back, anchoring you. You lost yourself in the sensation, forgetting for a moment about the dangerous mission ahead. Bucky's kisses were intoxicating, making you dizzy with desire. His metal hand traced the curve of your hip, sending shivers through your body.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of a phone cut through the haze of passion. You jerked away from Bucky, reality crashing back. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black device.

"It's time," he said, his voice husky. "The car's waiting downstairs."

You nodded, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. As you stood up from his lap, you smoothed down your dress, acutely aware of how close you'd come to losing control.

Bucky rose as well, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. His eyes met yours, filled with…

Filled with what, you weren’t sure.

If you made it out tonight, maybe you might have a chance to find out.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

👀

What do we think? Do we want to see more of them?

I think this could be a post-TFATWS and pre-Thunderbolts kind of thing maybe. idk.

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #female reader #curvy reader #millennial reader #aspen wrote something #hotbuckysummer2024 #deliciously debauched labor day weekend

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sh1-n0bu · 1 year ago

Note

yall this is my first time requesting something from someone so im a bit nervous but

imagine overstimulating venti until he cries 🤭

also can i be 🌊 anon ? PLEASE tell me if anything i asked made you uncomfortable!!

♡︎ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙤 𝙜𝙤𝙙’𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 ♡︎

characters: sub!venti x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, size kink, dacryphillia, reader’s genitals/pronouns are never mentioned so the cock can be interpreted as a strap on

notes: of course you can be 🌊anon! and yes, i’m slowly coming back to life. man author’s block is hard to beat. also, if this get’s flagged by tumblr when i wake up tmrw, i’ll delete it and post it again so don’t get too scared if it’s suddenly gone bbies

venti, or better yet known as barbatos to his people, was never really much of an archon.

he never plays by the rules, governs over his people nor even tries to abide by celestia’s rules. often, the wind spirit simply prefers to lay back and watch as his people takes care of any problems. they’re strong after all, his children always has been. of course, the windborn bard slurs out words of being the anemo archon in his drunk dazed self but no one ever takes it seriously.

and another thing was that, venti never worships the celestia. the floating island in the sky is full of nothing but liars, manipulators and cowards. besides… why would he worship those pathetic things when you’re right here?

why kneel before them when he can kneel before you?

why worship those who spat venom everytime they open their mouth when ballads and praises, songs of life flow from yours?

why chase after meaningless praises when your words sting like the strongest alcohol, burning his throat, making his eyes water as he becomes more and more addicted to you?

that’s exactly why the anemo archon prefers to worship you instead. when you braid his hair and comb out the knots as he nuzzles against your form, dazed and sleepy.

when you’re there to console him, help him through his darkest days when those wretches of celestia has done nothing.

when you’re kissing away the tears that spill from his eyes, shushing his slurred speeches and sobs of pleasure as you continue to ram into that one spot inside him, making him shriek and spill over his stomach again and again.

the windborn bard could worship you for eternity.

spilling another load into his stomach, the god in your arms spasms and twitches as his legs weakly wrap around your waist to at least try and calm the twitching of his small body.

dear stars above, you felt so big he could almost feel your tip in his stomach in his sex drunken haze. slurred whines of what seems to be your name flowing out of his mouth as he tries to keep his last threads of sanity together but how can he do so when he can just feel your previous loads slipping out of his rim and down to the sheets.

it all felt so hot, the room was so hot, everything was spinning. the warmth of your cum seeping out of his hole, the slight bulge in his stomach, the feeling of your finger wiggling in next to his already stuffed hole and pushing the cum back inside while your cock stays in — venti lets out a weak sound.

“look at you, little bird. you’re leaking out my cum that i worked so hard to put in you. can’t have my hard work being spent, right?” you coo out teasingly, a grin bit too sadistic tugging on your lips as venti writhes under you when you add in another finger. stars above, were you trying to break him?

venti couldn’t respond. he couldn’t even fully understand and register your words. brain too fried from the previous rounds of your just absolutely handling his small body around, pinching, teasing, smacking, leaving marks and hickeys but he loved it all.

as a response, the bard only weakly bucks his hips back into your strap again seemingly wanting more. my, what an insatiable little bird.

throwing his leg over your shoulder, you take out your fingers from his hole and squeeze his tiny waist once in a warning before fucking back into him again. small whines, weak noises and slurred whorish moans spill out from under you, the anemo archon far too fucked stupid to even try to properly say your name anymore.

making a grabby motion with his hands — a silent ask to hold you close while you fuck him full of your cum again — you decide to be nice and lean down, the absolutely filthy wet noises of your cock easily entering him causing venti to dig his blunt nails into your back, pulling you closer to himself.

feeling another orgasm building up embarrassingly quickly, the archon chases after your lips with weak whines, a sob following as you deny him of a proper kiss. instead teasing him by kissing his soft cheek. he didn’t even realize he was crying.

but soon those soft and weak whimpers and slurred words turn into a sharp scream as he feels himself cumming into both of your stomachs again, a sob of your name following along as you chase your high, getting more frantic with your movements.

the archon feels himself getting filled up again when your hips stutter, causing the short man under you to whimper a quiet “[n-nameee…❤︎︎]” in your ears.

after having caught your breath, you pull away from him slightly. pushing his hair away from his face, you couldn’t help but laugh as you wipe away his tears. but that laugh is cut off short as the archon bucks his hips against yours again, a cheeky grin pulling on his lips.

#nobu.writes #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub!genshin impact #sub!genshin #sub venti #sub!venti #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin smut #venti x reader smut #venti smut #🌊 anon #new anon!!!#gender neutral reader

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shadesoflsk · 10 months ago

Text

MOONTALK

pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN Reader.

summary: After retiring, Leon often has nightmares about his past. Talking under the moon's gaze seems to help.

warnings: Smut MDNI, just oral (m receiving), angst to fluff to smut hehe, mentions of death, violence, and alcohol, catholic symbolism, dad bod leon hehe (x2) subby leon, reader is called spouse.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: Hello! This is very simple since I'm trying to get better at writing smut for gender neutral readers :) There's not enough content and while I improve at writing the whole sex scene I shall bring you this! (I'm open to suggestions or constructive criticism.) As always, I hope you're having a good week!

The starry night is chosen to be Leon’s witness in the middle of his stolen slumber.

It’s a common occurrence, part of himself longs for the pain-filled activity since it serves as a reminder of his own life. Night terrors scare him more than his anxiety. The first one clings to his soul and threatens him with an inability to wake up. Helpless to his own mind, he prefers to be fully awake.

However, his brain isn’t his friend. Even when awake and aware of his surroundings, his mind would recreate scenarios he has lived before. Blood dripping and sticking to his combat boots, the smell of the iron-ish liquid filling his nostrils painfully making its home in Leon’s head, messing up with his perception of the world and himself.

Somewhere in that messed up path, he had found you.

He didn’t intend to, it wasn’t in his plans to. He had locked his heart and thrown the key somewhere in the sea of his failures.

A feeling of regret brimmed in Leon’s soul. How could his name be attached to yours if the sole mention of Leon Scott Kennedy brought memories of hell on Earth? A former rookie cop, ready to risk his life on duty turned into the government's best weapon. He’s made peace with that, ever since his mission in San Francisco his life has gotten significantly better.

But that doesn’t mean it has stopped hurting.

He once heard Jesus presented his left cheek to be slapped. In the past, he’d have imagined the mere thought of being that naive was ridiculous.

“You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”

Now, that passage has been planted in his heart like a thorn that wouldn't go away no matter how much he pinched the skin. But rather than being a bothersome feeling, it shaped him into the man he is now.

He would never be Jesus, he knows that much. Ever since he was a kid, his connection to religion was always dangling between trust and distrust; faith and doubt. Fear crossed his juvenile and innocent expression whenever he came across a statue of the people’s lord and savior.

God bad, Jesus good. People good and bad. The Old Testament was the backbone for Leon’s hatred towards God. If this supernatural being ‘loved’ his people, why would he punish them?

Sins are ambiguous. Killing is bad. But if he had killed creatures that were no longer humans, is he a sinner without redemption?

He’s still coming around that last statement. Were they really no longer humans?

That’s why he prefers the New Testament. A fresh start, a new life being born. Jesus wouldn’t judge him for the man that he was and is.

And just like him, he turned his left cheek in a mission in San Francisco years ago, when he ended Maria’s life. Bitter and revengeful for killing her father, the woman made it her mission to murder Leon. But ultimately (and ironically) she ceased to exist in Leon’s arms.

‘Revenge’ was met with a ‘Now you can be with your dad again.’ Merciful, he had granted her a last moment of peace.

The soundless night heightens Leon’s senses. As he tries to brush off his worries, some footsteps break the unnerving silence that Leon is in. His ears focus on the soft pace that he easily identifies as yours.

Recognition turned into monotone and monotone into mundane. And don’t get him wrong, God he loves feeling he has finally found his home.

Leon’s arms are resting on the balcony railway, blue eyes focused on the starry night.

“You should be sleeping.” He flatly says without turning to face you. Not out of apathy but guilt. Not being next to you has woken you up.

“Can’t sleep without my husband.”

Sensing you approaching, he opts to tease, trying to divert your attention somewhere else. “Wouldn’t be my dear spouse if you weren’t clingy.”

“I’m not clingy.” But you wouldn’t allow Leon’s usual antics. You know them by heart, lighthearted jokes instead of facing reality. “I’m just worried,”

“You worry too much.”

“But I’m always right.”

A sigh.

Teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s hard to sleep sometimes.” The phrase is not directed at you, but a response to his own thoughts. For him, safe and sound sleep is a blessing he’s not lucky enough to receive.

“I know.” And then again, your reply isn’t about yourself. A feeble smile appears on your face out of empathy and partial understanding. Standing next to him, your elbows rest on the balcony railway, the chill air sending goosebumps through your skin. “Did you dream about something?”

Leon’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he mull over her question. When he tries recalling his past moment of slumber he is met with the usual gruesome scenario and the same gut-wrenching screams.

“Same old tale.” He exhales. In the past he would have had a glass of whiskey in his hand, tilting the content to one side as he gazed over the starry sky. But he made a promise, and as much as his past comes back to haunt him, he’d keep it.

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Why I don't believe you?”

He brings a calloused hand to his mouth as he registers your words. Under the moonlight, his expression gives away his exhausted state, a hint of darkness around his eyes, a permanent faint frown.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yet here I am asking.” It’s not until now that you notice Leon’s shirtless torso. Most of his scars are turning a light white color while his bruises are changing their hues. His body is not the same from a few years ago. His abdomen no longer shows off his chiseled abs but a slightly round and soft belly.

“Feels like I’m walking in circles.” He finally answers with his eyes closed. His restless mind can’t give him a break. Unable to completely live in peace, he finds himself pondering about his own humanity.

“The past is always clearer at night.” With an expression akin to resignation, he looks at you. “And the past tells me I’m a monster.”

The faint sound of the clock could be heard even when they were both gazing into the sky and letting their thoughts be consumed by the chill night. It reaches the dreaded ‘Devil’s hour,’ 3 AM.

“You aren’t a monster.” And it is the truth. While Leon is a complex man, it is not a difficult task to unravel and search through the layers he has covered himself in. His heart beats for the nation and therefore its citizens.

“If I’m not a monster then what am I?” He replies, his face growing somber. “If what I’ve done isn’t destruction what is it?”

“Salvation.”

It is far from salvation. It’s selfish to even think that way.

Sadly, Leon was the designated pawn to complete the job nobody wants to do.

Sadly, Leon is no more than a victim in the web of despair and destruction.

“Salvation.” He scoffs, a sharp ironic demonstration that your words weren’t the best. “I used to fight while the innocents kept falling at my feet.”

A glimpse of a past self appears in front of you. Chaos and loathing unfurls.

It’s been years since you last saw the man who used to drown himself in the deadly burning liquid. However, the alcohol no longer filled the empty spaces in his body and soul.

Truthfully speaking, nobody can fix or heal anyone. But you gladly took the role of being Leon’s partner in life. Not only romantically speaking. Silently, you made a home in Leon’s heart and he was too comfortable with you to ask you to leave him.

“You didn’t do it in the first place.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The government did.”

“But I was just another bullet in a gun.” He replies softly, his gaze drifting forward. Even after all of these years, he couldn’t completely shake off the guilt that kept haunting him. “Another man with his finger on the trigger… I was just a man with a gun.”

“And you’re also a man with a heart.” You respond immediately, not giving him a chance to continue his venom-filled words toward himself.

“If you were the demon you think you are, these late-night thoughts wouldn’t be haunting you as they do. You wouldn’t be mourning every soul even after all these years.” Your words bring a sense of comfort amidst the internal battle that is occurring inside him. The weight of his burden has always been more bearable with you.

“You think I’m that much of a saint?” A faint smile tug at Leon’s lip. A troubled expression on his face tells you he is still not believing your words. Or perhaps, he feels like he shouldn’t believe you.

“I don’t think you’re a saint. Humans are much more than black or white, good or bad. We are gray.”

Your statement is true. Humans are far from being one-dimensional beings. The balance has always been there and he knows it. When he was a child and religion was still an important part of his life, he remembers when Jesus protected Mary Magdalene.

‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’

Leon had stained his hands with blood and gore, but he had also saved countless lives when the odds were against him.

“God… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He laughs, finally bringing you closer to him with his arm around your waist.

“No, you’re just human.” You reply, admiring the view your balcony provides, you think about the endless possibilities in life. If you hadn't met Leon, where would you be? And if Leon hadn't met you? How his life would look right now?

Universe works in mysterious ways, if you hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't have your soulmate next to you.

A comfortable silence sets in as Leon finally relaxes and gives his mind a break. There were days and nights in which his brain was weak, but that doesn’t mean he hasn't gotten better.

“I would do laundry and taxes with you in every timeline.” You break the silence with a quote from a movie both of you had watched and Leon being the moviegoer he is, you know he’ll recognize it.

“That's not how the line goes, you silly.”

Bingo.

“Then enlighten me, Mr. I know every movie by heart.”

“It is ‘in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.’” He states matter-of-factly which gains a laugh from you. But in a way, you’re used to his antics and almost nerdy personality only you get to see.

But your words mixed with the ones from the movie hold a glimmer of truth. Even in a timeline in which he wasn’t an agent and just a regular citizen, you’d have fallen for him. Because his past doesn’t make him the man he is now.

In another life, you’d love him over and over again.

“But I’d do all those things in this life and even in the afterlife.”

His eyes fall on you, the glimmer in them now being obvious. Just a few words from his love would pull him out from his depressive nights.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m just amazing like that.” You wrap your arms around Leon's neck while his hands rested on your middle section. “Now hug me because I’m fucking freezing.”

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Laughing, he pulls you closer in a tight embrace. “I’d hate for you to catch a cold. Besides… I need my cuddling partner every night.”

As both of you move out of the balcony and away from the cold wind of the night. Leon’s hands move painfully obvious to your rear. After his late thoughts, he only wants to feel you close to him.

“I don’t think you want to cuddle.” You remark the obvious. Leon just chuckles, nodding.

“Aside from being the perfect partner you’re also a mind reader?”

You step in your bedroom. Place that has been witness to Leon’s most vulnerable moments, from the times in which he'd come back from a mission to the ones in which both of you would get lost in each other's bodies.

His sanctuary, your heaven.

You smile at him as you motion him to sit down on the bed. Both of your eyes are locked in a gaze that says what you are feeling, love. No matter how hard his or your days could be, both of you could always come back to a partner that takes care of them. No matter the situation.

As he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, you lean closer and press a kiss to his forehead, to his nose, to his cheek, and lastly to his lips. This last one lingers more than the others, sweet and slow, like how you want to treat him tonight.

“I love you.” You whisper as you pull back from the kiss, your thumb grazing over his stubbled jaw.

“Love you more.” He responds with the same tenderness you have brought him. After saying his words, his hands traveled to where your hips were, attempting to pull you closer.

“Nuh-uh. Tonight’s about you, sir.” You have your mind set that this night is going to be all about the perfect husband you have in front of you.

With that, your lips once again found their home but this time it was on Leon’s neck.

With your lips giving some attention to Leon’s sensitive skin, you treat him like he was fragile porcelain.

After a few moments, you slowly lower yourself until you're between his thighs. Another reminder of how much his body has changed, his thighs were fuller and bit less toned than before.

He has seen you like this before, on your knees and with the sweetest of looks but dear God it gets better every day.

You press your cheek against Leon’s inner thigh, your hand rubbing the flesh that is still covered with his sweatpants. He was no longer an active agent therefore he had gained some weight which you completely love. He blames the alcohol he used to drink so much and the lack of high-impact exercise. But you always reassure him that you love him nonetheless.

Your hand creeps to his clothed crotch, you gently trace along the bulge that has already formed. Leon’s breath is starting to get heavier but nothing too scandalous, for now.

“I haven’t even touched properly and you’re already this hard.” You are trying to be gentle, but there’s something about having control over him even when you’re on your knees that just prompts you to tease him a hit.

“Might as well cum in the spot, don’t you think? Bet you’re already imagining me pulling down your boxers and stroking your cock.” The face Leon was making could send you straight to heaven.

“You’re the devil…” Leon tries, he tries to gather himself by making a joke. But his high-pitched speech comes out pathetic. A rebuttal? More like a whine.

“What? My handsome husband can’t handle the spice? I expected better.” The praise seems to hit a spot somewhere in his body because the way his hips just bucked and sought the friction of your hand was contradictory to his previous words.

“Please…” And after that whimper, you no longer want to tease the man. Especially tonight in which he deserves the best.

“Ok, ok. I gotcha…” You murmur, wasting no more time and pulling his sweatpants down. A wet spot is already formed in his gray boxers. Then again, more teasing words flood your mind but you brush them off.

With a gentle kiss on his inner thigh, your fingers hook around the fabric and slide it down. His dick springs forward, and as always, it makes your mouth water. It’s the same image as always, slightly curved lenght with veins you had memorized by now and a reddish tip that tells you how bothered and pent-up he’s been.

Marriage has always been depicted as a boring and monotonous lifestyle, in which you get bored of your spouse after a couple of years. In a sense, you understand where they come from. However, Leon and you always made sure to keep things interesting, and as corny as it sounds, both of you try to make the other fall in love again.

You press a kiss on his tip, holding back a laugh as you know how sensitive he must be. The slightest touch has him gripping the bedsheets.

“You’re teasing.” He says as his lips form a pout. His calloused hands flatten on top of your hair

“Am I?” You give his shaft a few kitten licks, not breaking eye contact while doing so.

Finally, your shenanigans are followed by your lips wrapping around his tip, sucking the area. That gains a whimper out of Leon, the ones you’re so used to.

When you first met the stoic agent, you wouldn’t have thought that he’d be so vocal in bed. Even when he was supposed to be on top, he’d let the most beautiful moans against your ears. asking for permission to continue, asking for permission to fill you up.

For a moment, your lips continue sucking off his tip. Your saliva coating the area and sloppily making out with the head of his dick. Your fingers wrap around the base of it, almost overwhelming Leon with the amount of attention he is receiving.

“Ah — Fuck…” His eyes roll back as you finally take him whole. The previous ministrations long forgotten as your mouth and part of your throat surround his sensitive cock.

You bob your head, slowly at first, controlling your breath as Leon involuntarily thrusts his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. You place your hand on Leon’s thigh, to motion him to stand still.

“Shit — sorry, sorry…” His voice gets slightly higher, now his previous words turn into pleas or straight-up moans. Drool pools at the corner of your mouth as your tongue runs on the underside of his cock.

“Too good for me…” He’s reduced to just babbles and whines, his knuckles turn white as keeps on gripping the bedsheets, an awful attempt to drown more moans. As you continuously bob your head, Leon could feel his high coming.

Unconsciously and given his dazed out state, he brings his leg to your shoulder. You were completely focused on him and this simple action made your concentration break a bit. He’s putty in your hands, his brain no longer functioning whenever you are in control.

You’d edge him, you’d definitely tease him for that. But now, you just continue sucking him off with the inner side of his thigh brushing against your cheek.

“I’m gonna — Fuck…” It’s not a warning, but a comment, a needy announcement. As much as he denies it, there’s not a better image than seeing you covered with his cum, or watching you swallow it whole. It made him feel a sense of pride, knowing that his spouse is the one making him come undone.

And as your tongue runs along a vein, he couldn’t contain it any longer. With a high pitched whine and throwing his head back, he spills down your throat.

The warm liquid fills your mouth and some of it drips from the corner of your lips.

You stay still for a moment, collecting every last drop of Leon’s cum. When you feel Leon’s hand on your shoulder —the one that doesn’t have his leg on it— you know he was asking you for a break.

Pulling out with a pop, you gently move his leg for him to rest.

For a few seconds, you just massage your jaw as Leon tries to recover. Heavy breaths fill the dark room, allowing you to relax once again.

“You good?” You ask as you are sitting down on the floor.

“Yeah — Just… give me a second.” He laughs, closing his eyes. A loving smile forms on his face.

You laugh too, getting up from the floor, you admire the scene Leon provides you: All of his body exposed to you, his sweatpants and boxers pooling at his ankles, and his fucked out expression.

Heaven.

After a minute or so, Leon composes himself.

“I’ll make sure to wake up every night if this is the treatment I get.”

“Next time I will just tie you up to the bed.”

“Oh? I like the sound of that.”

Laughing, you slap his naked chest as he pulls you closer. Nights like this are a reminder of his humanity and his right to love and to be loved. The past can never be changed or forgotten, but he can learn from it.

💬shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

author's note 2: I just had to mention eeaao! It's one of my favorite movies and I know Leon would love it. Sorry if it was too sappy of me but then again... I'm always like that.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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xinmin-exe · 1 year ago

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Attack On Titan characters as Parents

Note: I haven't really watched attack on titan in years, so I'm sure all of these characters are gonna be OOC ALSO i am making it so everyone survived in the end and they all got their happy ending because these babies deserve it

WARNINGS: fem!reader, brief mentions of past trauma, mentions of miscarriage, very brief mention of the birthing process,

Eren

Eren was so traumatized after what his father did, he almost had a break down when you told him you were pregnant. It took him a couple weeks, and many, many late night talks with Armin until he was willing to try to be there for you. Eren was so nervous and worried he was going to be just like his father but the moment he saw his kid, everything just clicked. He was so gentle with them and always made time to talk and play with them during the day. As they got older, their bond grew even closer as Daddy and Aunt Mikasa took them out hunting every couple of weeks. Eren is an amazing father who despite everything he went through, made damn sure to do better for his child.

Armin

Armin never imagined having children, it just wasn't something he saw in his future. that was, until you came into his life and changed everything. When your little bundle of joy was born, Armin was in tears. He couldn't help but admire them and want to give them everything. Since then, Armin has done everything to nurture their ideas and passions. He even took them to the sea and let them play around. He wanted them to grow up with everything he couldn't have (aka, parents) so he did everything he could to stick around. Armin turned down multiple high government positions just to stay close to you and his child. Armin is the parent we all need in our lives.

Mikasa

When you approached Mikasa with the idea of wanting to adopt, she was speechless. Ever since her parents were killed, she never thought about having children. However, she loved you so much that she wanted to at least try. After all, she wasn't exactly motherly (at least that's what she will tell people) When Hange introduced you two to a young child (maybe 5 or 6) from the underground Mikasa's heart melted. She saw herself in this child so much that her protective instincts kicked in. She was so protective of this child, no one, and i mean no one besides you could be left alone with them. Even if it was armin or Eren, Mikasa was always in the room, one second away from glaring the other person into the next century. Mikasa really warmed up to the idea of being a parent and fit into the role well.

Jean

Jean was the one of the only in the group who wanted to still have kids. He knew what he wanted from life and was damned if some suicidal maniac was going to stop him. So when you were giving birth, Jean made sure he was right next to you, holding your hand and encouraging you the entire time. Even though you did scream at him "this is your fault! If i live through this i am going to KILL you Kirstein!" (the nurses thought that it was funny) But once your child was here, nothing else mattered. Once you were able to leave the hospital and go home, all Jean did was take your kid around and show off. Constantly saying "look at what i did" or "aren't they just gorgeous like their mom?" He always had something to brag about (even if the thing wasn't brag worthy), to Jean, anything your child did was amazing. Jean is very much the parent to scream at the back of the room while their kid is performing and embarrass the shit out of them.

Connie

Connie hadn't given having kids much thought. Afterall, he didn't even know if he'd be surviving long enough to be given that option. But once you told him you were pregnant, he was over the moon! Connie didn't let you move a muscle, ever. You need something from the top shelf? He's getting the stepstool. You want some food? He's already getting the ingredients out. And when you went into labor, he was right by your side. He let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to, and he made sure you were given everything possible to make birth as comfortable as it could be. Connie was so overwhelmed with love once he laid eyes on your child, the only time he let you hold them was when they needed to be fed. Connie got up to soothe them during the night, claiming it was the least he could do since you went though the pain of giving birth. Connie was there at every single milestone for their life, and he was never, ever going to stop being there for them; or for you.

Sasha

Oh boy, Sasha is the cool mom. When you two first adopted your child, she was admittedly a little awkward around them. But, after many late night snacks and a few bad cooking experiences, Sasha blossomed into a wonderful mom. She made sure they were eating properly and always had snacks on her. Your kids friends know that they will eat good when Sasha is around, and you two have become THE family. Sasha does tend to spoil them and say "yes" practically every time they ask for something, but they never try to manipulate that. You and Sasha both make sure your kid is kind and humble and thoughtful. With Sasha at your side, nothing is impossible and raising a child together was the best decision you two ever made.

Levi

Levi initially turned down the idea of having kids. Claiming that he was not fit to be a father, but fate wasn't having it. When you found out you were pregnant, you were worried to tell Levi. You knew he didn't want kids and you had grown to be content with that. What would he say when he found out? Would he leave you? Those thoughts sent you spiraling when Hange eventually let the cat out of the bag. Levi was silent but you could see in his eyes that was he happy. Even though he didn't want kids, he knew he wanted you. If that meant having to raise another brat then so be it. At first, he did the basics, changed their diapers, fed them, etc. But he never truly bonded with them until they were older and confided to Levi that they felt like an outsider looking in. He listened and did his best to offer advice and words of wisdom that might help. From then on, Levi was so much more involved and made sure that they were getting the life they deserved.

Erwin

Erwin was possibly the most excited to be a father. After everything, when things began settling down he approached you with the idea of trying for kids. At first you were the hesitating one, but Erwin was able to convince you to at least think about it. After a while, you were on board and baby, he got to work. It was along road, you had a miscarriage and that was demoralizing. Erwin made sure to support you the entire time. He understood that you may not want to try again and he was okay with that. It took you a year or so after for you to want to try again. But eventually, with enough effort and support, you gave birth to a beautiful baby. Erwin was in love with your child the moment he laid eyes on them. He spoiled them as much as he could, whenever he could. He was a dotting husband, and even more dotting father.

Hange

Oh boy, Hange is.. enthusiastic to say the least. They see it as a new experiment, at first. Hange takes your pulse every day, they measure how much you eat as well as your weight. When you gave birth, they were overwhelmed. There was a beautiful little bundle wrapped up in your arms and all Hange wanted was to hold them. Hange was so careful that you almost had to do a double-take. They held your child so gently, like glass. From then on, it was like the whole world vanished for them. They prioritized being there and being a parent over anything. Hange recorded all the milestones (first steps, first word, first tooth, etc) but they also recorded every other moment (like when they babbled for the first time, or when they first rolled over). But to Hange, they were all important moments.

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fairuzfan · 1 year ago

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hello!! I don't know if this is appropriate (pls do not feel obligated to answer) but i was wondering what were ur thoughts on the israeli grass-roots movement Standing Together. I first found out abt them through a tumblr post that shared this substack article (https://theconnector.substack.com/p/if-its-not-helping-then-shut-the). the article immediately put an extremely bad taste in my mouth towards the movement and its founders, but i dont know if i'm being overly-critical of them.

Hey thanks for sending this in. No worries, it's totally ok. I was actually debating whether or not to publish this, mostly because I was afraid this would distract from Gaza, but I decided that it's imperative to stop normalizers from squeezing their way into the movement. Remember, the demands of the Palestinian people begin and end with liberation. Everything else is irrelevant and pointless to the cause.

So first off — I don't think you're being overly-critical of them at all. The first red flag of both this article and the group themselves is that they often exchange "Palestinian" with "Arab" and "Israeli" with "Jewish." That right off the bat shows me they have no respect for Palestinians and see Jewish people and Palestinians as mutually exclusive categories. I've spoken on this blog before about how racist it is to assume no Palestinian is Jewish and vice versa and this group really illustrates the forced division they imagine within their own goals and wording.

The article itself is quite anti-Palestinian in its erasure — it talks about avoiding words like "genocide," and "apartheid," and "ethnic cleansing" because "they are serious people trying to actually get something done." I really don't understand why not using those words makes you a serious person. If anything, it erases a description of how to define what it happening to Palestinians.

The whole redefinition of "peace" in this article and group is just calmness. These people are not advocating for peace in which families are reunited and land is given back — they are advocating for a muted version of the status quo of the current political system, just with less obviously fanatical governments. Peace cannot be attained when the people directly affected cannot have a say in defining it. They won't even say the word "apartheid." It's not some scholarly word with no meaning — it has actual consequences and effects on people (click). Palestinians are tried in military court. Their movement is monitored and restricted. It means that there are different legal systems for different people (click)! If you reject that this exists, then you're not interested in making the lives of Palestinians better — you're only interested in making your own life more comfortable.

As soon as you remove our ability to say words like "genocide" and "apartheid", you remove our ability to determine what happens specifically to Palestinians based on racism. By only saying "Palestinians are getting killed" an Israeli can come in and say "well so am I, by Hamas! Let's work together to end the killing" when it ignores that this is a systematic effort to completely wipe out all trace of Palestinians from the world.

It's like saying, "Don't say you have arthritis, say your joints hurt. And well, that happens to everyone, so let's just find a way to stop all our joints from hurting!" Then you work with people who fundamentally don't understand your pain and symptoms, oversimplifying your situation to the point of malicious universality. Sure, everyone's joints hurt, but my joints are hurting because my immune system is attacking them, not because of old age. You can't help my arthritis the same way you can wear a heat/cold patch to sooth your joints — there are other problems you're ignoring that all work together to cause me systematic pain and might cause bigger problems in the future if left untreated properly.

Similar symptoms don't mean similar causes and ignoring that is fundamentally ignoring the root issue and attempting to trivialize Palestinian's suffering. As soon as you take away the words to describe our situation, it doesn't sound so bad, does it?

Now, basically, the... weirdest part of the article is this excerpt:

People like him in Israel are very aware of how the left here is talking about them, and it’s not helping. “You can call me a colonizer or a settler,” he declared, “but I’m not going anywhere. And neither are the Palestinians.” When people chant, “Palestine will be free,” he said, “we Israelis hear, ‘without you.’ In the same way that a lot of Palestinians hear the ministers in Bibi’s government speak and think they want to do the same thing to them.” The problem as they both see it is that we are caught between two polar opposites. “Hamas believes in Greater Palestine,” Green said. “And on the other side we have people who believe in the idea of Greater Israel.” Indeed, that concept is in the charter of Netanyahu’s Likud Party. “Both sides have very problematic governing bodies,” he added. And the status quo of maintaining the occupation and managing the conflict has been exploded now.

Well, first off, Hamas is not the only one who believes in "Greater Palestine." Palestinians around the globe have been fighting for that since 1948. Second off, it's quite odd that you would center yourself in the wake of the ongoing slaughter of 10,000 people, with no end in sight. Right now, I would assume you'd be advocating for an end to the mass killings first and foremost, but you seem to be more worried about your right to stolen land.

Third, this completely erases the violence done to Palestinians the past 75+ years in favor for a "peace" that will only allow citizens of Israel comfort in their lives. Sure Palestinian citizens of Israel might have more comfortable lives, maybe (although I doubt it). But what about Gaza, which has been ravaged by Israel? What about the people in the Occupied Territories, whose economy depends on Israel, which controls it? What about the millions of refugees around the world who can't so much as see the place where they grew up because they've been exiled? The colonization of Palestine by Israel is not so old — there are people STILL ALIVE who participated in the massacres of Palestinians in 1948 and 1967 and walk around without facing any real consequences for that. My great-grandmother had seen both and she only passed away a couple of years ago. Where is the "peace" for her? Where is the "peace" for millions like her who still dream of going back to their childhood home?

This group AND the article tries to cloud your view into illustrating two opposing groups with equal power. They aren't. Palestinians, unfortunately, endure systematic oppression both within Gaza and throughout Palestine. Each and every time they try to resist peacefully, they've been shot, abducted, or imprisoned. The Great March of Return is one such example. BDS is also an example, yet that has constantly been outlawed by American governments. There have been a plethora of Palestinian artists, writers, and filmmakers who have been silenced or killed for advocating for a Free Palestine. Most recently, this included Heba Abu-Nada who was an award winning poet and writer who was martyred on October 20th after getting shelled by an Israeli missile. Ghassan Kanafani also was assassinated last century. The list goes on. Palestinians have no hope of "changing the system from within" because that internal change will always depend on the mercy of the Israelis that pretend to ally themselves with the Palestinians. Someone in Gaza cannot leave their refugee camp and go back to their ancestral home because no one in this group is advocating for that — and remember, the right of return is an essential part of the demands of the Palestinian people and we cannot ignore that for a forced "peace" that favors calmness over actual justice.

Now as we examine the group themselves, here is their mission statement/goal:

Standing Together is a progressive grassroots movement mobilizing Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel against the occupation and for peace, equality, and social justice. We know that the majority have far more in common than that which sets us apart and only a tiny minority benefits from the status quo. The future that we want-peace and independence for Israelis and Palestinians, full equality for everyone in this land, and true social, economic, and environmental justice — is possible. To achieve this future, we must stand together as a united front: Jewish and Palestinian, secular and religious, Mizrahi and Ashkenazi, rural and urban, and people of all genders and sexual orientations. As the largest Jewish-Arab grassroots movement in Israel, we are committed to creating an alternative to our existing reality and building the political strength to make this transformation possible.

Yet again, they are separating "Palestinian" and "Jewish," reinforcing this dichotomy that's so harmful. AND they're interchanging "Palestinian" and "Arab," which erases the diversity within Palestinian society. A group that makes the distinction between "Palestinian" and "Jewish" shows that they are not interested in the restitution of Palestinians but rather solidifying their own position within society by emphasizing a false dichotomy between "Palestinians" and "Jews" with no potential for overlap.

They mention "true justice" but "true justice" doesn't exist if there are no reparations towards the people who have been exiled and displaced, murdered, and tortured the past 75+ years. Justice is not an abstract concept — it is adhering to the demands of the people most impacted by systematic oppression, which is the Palestinians.

Looking at their leadership, there are only a couple of Palestinians with the vast majority of them being non-Palestinian. Sorry, but I'm wholly uninterested in "peace" and "equality" movements that are not made up of majority Palestinians. It's only common sense that you would expect such a movement to be led by Palestinians themselves — but this group seems to use Sally Abed as a token Palestinian who furthers their narrative of wanting "peace" in Israeli society. And even looking at their action items, you can see they make a point about emphasizing safety for the *Israeli* citizens above all else, stating that their far right government does nothing to serve the citizens of Israel. They claim it will also bring safety for Gazans, but how? You can advocate for a change in the government, yes, but if the people in Gaza are subject to getting their rights taken away based on the whims of whoever happens to be in power then no amount of "internal" activism in Israeli society will help them. They will always be at the mercy of the people who have a vested interest in erasing the people of Gaza and the West Bank so that they may take over their land.

Please remember, the civil rights movement of the 60s and the BLM Movement of this century were led by and FOR Black people of the United States because they were the ones making the demands for a change in their circumstances. Because at the end of the day, the people who are the most oppressed deserve the right to decide how their future appears and should not be dictated by the oppressor in any way.

This group tries to make a separation between the "Israeli people" and the "Israeli government." Right away, I have to laugh. They act as if the colonization of Palestine is too old for anyone to remember its origins — no. I had family living in Palestine as recently as '67. Maybe *this* generation didn't choose to settle in Palestine, but the previous generation did. And the generations before that. Before 1948, Israel didn't even exist. Hell, before a couple hundred years ago, BORDERS didn't exist. Not to mention, mandatory conscription means that most civilians will have been directly part of the suppressing forces, making them liable for the material effects of colonization. Why are people so resistant to the idea of undoing colonialism and its effects? I cannot think of any other reason than because they have a vested interest in keeping those borders up, in emphasizing nationality because they're one of the groups of people that is benefited from the establishment of a "Jewish State."

So in that, unless you call for an end to the idea of the "Jewish State" in Palestine, then I cannot think of you as a sincere advocate for Palestinian rights — this group especially plays at normalization of a muted version of the status quo rather than actual justice and reparations. The "Israeli advocates" within this group will benefit first and foremost in their own activism — therefore it's hard for me to view them in a positive light.

All activism for Palestinians should center around giving Palestinians reparations, as well as giving reparations to all indigenous victims of colonization. I think this group only tries to muddy the waters to make people forget what they're fighting for. I honestly do not understand why liberation scares you, if it means that no nation-state will have complete and total power over you and your family.

"Free Palestine" is an anti-colonial movement. Such a thing is possible — but you have to try to make it possible. Those against the unending liberation of all people are one of those who have the most to benefit from the continuation of colonization.

Right now, your main concern should be the people of Gaza and the people of the West Bank, and ensuring their safety and longevity in the face on continued erasure. "Peace" is all well and good but who exactly gets to define that? Who gets to benefit most from it? Unless you can unequivocally answer "ALL Palestinians," then you're not an ally — you're only interested in helping yourselves.

Remember — the fact that we even had to fight for our rights is itself an injustice. At the very least, ask the people who are most affected what they want before you listen to Israelis who have a vested interest in keeping the state of Israel alive.

#palestine #gaza

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samusamab · 25 days ago

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Objective Best Rooks for Each Companion Romance

Just finished my first full playthrough of Veilguard, so I now feel qualified to talk about the best/funniest rook race/class/faction combos for each companion romance. As always, feel free to argue if you want, but remember at the end of the day my opinions are always right (Government Mandated: this is a joke)

(PS: Race opinions may not be included, sue me. Also, light spoilers below, obviously. I'm pretty sure I got all the spoiler tags, but here's your fair warning just in case.)

Bellara: Grey Warden rogue. The bodice ripper girlie deserves a roguishly charming parter who is also a little dark and tortured, as a treat. Dating a Grey Warden feels like as close as Dragon Age gets to dating a superhero (but like, a broody one) and I think Bellara would love that dynamic. I have no strong opinions on race, but we'll say Qunari.

Taash: Elf Mournwatcher Mage. I may be biased, but I just finished a Mournwatcher Taash run, and seeing the way they talk about necromancy with Rook compared to Emmrich is so funny. Besides I think they'd enjoy a little goth elf to throw around.

Harding: The same combination as your inquisitor. Nothing better to me than establishing Harding having a strong type. Also very funny to imagine the inquisitor meeting Rook, the new partner Harding keeps telling them about, and they're a little too similar. Make Lace a little weirder and more fucked up (affectionate), she deserves it.

Davrin: Lord of Fortune Rogue. I see your "Davrin doesn't like the Crows because they're killers for hire" and raise you, faction of pirates and thieves that are literally just in it to beat people up and get as much loot as possible. It would be like if Isabella and Blackwall were a couple. I rest my case.

Emmrich: Mourn Watcher Mage. Listen, I know I already did this one, but let me be a little lazy. Admittedly, I am not an old man yaoi enjoyer (though I believe in their beliefs). So this one is mostly based around the idea of you Rook leaving to save the world, and ending up romancing the man who would've been their necromancy doctorate advisor.

Neve: Veil Jumper Warrior. Hear me out here, I'm obsessed with that one Neve voice line that reveals she knows nothing about the outside. Give her a wild child ranger-coded partner who lives in the cursed magic woods and would speedrun winning a season of Survivor. Make her have to go on hiking dates, it's enrichment.

Lucanis: Shadow Dragon Mage. Look, I know this is just Neve in a different font. But I'm obsessed with that Taash line about Lucanis and Neve dating where she implies their relationship has a predator-prey dynamic because he's a mage killer. Not that Lucanis is that kinky, but a Rook can imagine. Even if it ends up the other way, I'm all game for a short king magehunter getting tied up by his mage-dom.

Honorable Mention: I think it would be hilarious to romance Taash as an AFAB-Nonbinary Qunari Lord of Fortune. Just helping your hot coworker speedrun all of your own past life experiences. Please let me know if you've done this, and if it was worth it.

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #veilguard spoilers #dragon age romance #veilguard romance #rook #lucanis x rook #taash x rook #rook x harding #emmrich x rook #bellara x rook #davrin x rook #neve x rook #kink mentioned #dav spoilers #dragon age shitpost #first big fandom tumblr post #I've rediscovered that the beauty of the internet is that I get to shout my thoughts into the void.

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brucewaynehater101 · 8 months ago

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i'm gonna be real idk if your the right person to go for young justice core four headcanons but you give the best replies by far so heres my own idea idea

I was listening to the Roblox Soundfont remix and now the og Gone Angels and now I'm thinking . . .

Tim became Robin to prevent Batman from ceasing to be the symbol of heroism and good he started off as

The symbol that spiraled into destruction of even the self with Jason Todd's death

imagine a world where Red Robin becomes the very thing he swore to destroy with his own death

he dies along with Bart and Kon. Cassie due to this and maybe other factors fucking looses it, Batman post-Jason's death but pre-Tim becoming Robin style

or maybe instead he dies but the rest of the core four lives. either way Cassie still looses it, by herself or with her other teammates

And maybe, just maybe, they get nobody to be the Third Robin to their Batman, no Third Robin to Tim's Second Robin

likely improbably in canon but the idea of Cassie and maybe even Bart and Kon having a villain arc (maybe Black Silence style) is too good of an idea not to share

(Side note; imagine a Gone Angels cover where the survivor(s) sing and for the itallian lyrics in the midway point the deceased sing)

((extra side note: imagine this is what gets Batman and maybe the other Bats to reflect on the time before and after Tim become robin, post Jason's death; seeing their history repeat with Young Justice))

((hell maybe the Justice League realizes as wells))

"you give the best replies by far." Thank you. Sometimes, it takes a bit to reply to asks cause I'm taking a few hours to really answer the prompts/ideas/questions people pose. I also sleep at random times, so apologizes in advance to any asks that take a while!

My image of YJ is a codependent platonic polycule. They are Young Just Us because they didn't receive proper support from their mentors. This is part of why Cassie and Tim fell apart after Kon and Bart died. This is why, in their own weird ways, both of them tried to get a form of Kon back. Tim tried the scientist cloning avenue, and Cassie tried the cult.

If you want Tim's death to inspire Cassie and YJ to go evil, might I suggest Tim sending proof of Bruce being alive in the timestream and then succumbing to his spleen injury (perhaps an infection)? This would create a delicious amount of angst, anger, and mental breakdowns.

Cassie, the only nonretired YJ member alive at the time, didn't believe Tim about Bruce being alive. This was in part due to the cloning stuff but also in part to trusting Nightwing (or Batman at the time). If Tim didn't make it out of that alive, Cassie may be desperate to find anyone to blame but herself for that. She was a kid, she was lost in her own grief, and Tim should have had the support of literally any other hero.

The entire hero community turned against a teenager in his time of need that he resorted to conspiring with the LoA and ended up losing his life. Whether she chooses to be mad about nobody believing him (Tim's possibly a better detective than Bruce and people have revived before, but his evidence at the time was flimsy), she can be very pissed that not a single hero offered to help him. They didn't even need to trust in Tim's decision. They could have just accompanied Tim until the teen gave up or proved himself right. They could have treated it as a grief road trip while Tim found himself.

Anyways, losing the last nonretired YJ member that way may cause her to just snap. The JL was already on thin ice with the YJ for their lack of support to her generation of heroes. Them failing YJ enough that two children died in the field and one died as a direct result of their actions? She would, rightfully, loathe the JL. On top of that, she does already not trust the government for what they did to Secret. If she can't prosecute the JL, she'll become their enemy.

Cassie lost all of her main polycule. She wants revenge.

After Bart and Kon come back, they see how JL left Cassie and what they did to Tim. Cassie is part of their ride or die, and she has been treated so horribly. Tim has died. They obviously join her.

Now, with Bart there to give evil ideas (Bart is the scariest member of YJ and you can't convince me otherwise), YJ is a force to be reckoned with. Maybe some of the other members come out of retirement, maybe not. They would be unstoppable with Tim helping them, but that's the problem. They don't have Tim. Tim isn't there to help them nor hold them back. That's why they became "evil" anyway.

I like to imagine someone, probably Nightwing, screaming at them from across the battlefield. "This isn't what he would have wanted! He became Robin to stop Batman from destroying everything. This is the antithesis of why he became a hero!"

For a split second, YJ would pause. There's merit in those words, after all. Cassie would recover first as she shakes her head. "He became a hero to be the leash to Batman's rage. He's not here now. He's not here to temper our rage, and you did that. You abandoned a child." She plants her feet more firmly and points her sword at Nightwing. "We won't let you do that again."

It's dealers choice on whether YJ win the battle or not. Also, I do believe YJ would be obsessed with trying to bring Tim back. Perhaps some of their evil deeds truly stem from them trying to find ways to bring back Tim. They are incomplete without him just as they were incomplete without Kon or Bart and would be without Cassie.

Now, is Tim actually alive or does he stay dead? Did Ra's revive him using the Pit? Did Ra's lie or misguide the Bats while keeping Tim hostage? Will Tim come back, either after being brainwashed by Ra's or escaping, to find his platonic polycule has officially lost it and turned evil?

#cassie sandsmark #dc comics #dc universe #young justice #young just us #let yj be evil #tim drake #bart allen #kon el superboy #thank you for the ask!!!!#yj can and should take over the world for the greater good

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riizegasm · 24 days ago

Text

International Relations || K. DH (Leehan)

❀ pairing: president’s son!donghyun x rival!reader (implied fem reader), ft. various foreign idol cameos

❀ genre: enemies to lovers, suggestive (like it gets very tense and a little graphic at the end), minor fluff

❀ word count: ~5.5k

❀ warnings: explicit language, suggestive content, drug mention, alcohol consumption

❀ summary: In the perpetual game of cat and mouse, you always find yourself on the offense. So why does Donghyun look like the cat who got the cream? And why is defeat so hard to admit?

❀ A/N: SURPRISE!!!! Just a reminder that this is a work of fiction and is in no way related to the global political landscape. Please let me know how you guys like this one :)))

It’s too early on a Tuesday morning when a loud knock rings out throughout your bedroom, instantly rousing you from your slumber. You barely have time to open your eyes before a familiar face is letting himself into your room. Hanbin is clearly frazzled, his normally perfect appearance marred by a necktie with an improper knot and a severe case of bed head. You imagine you don’t look much better.

“You need to get up, now,” Hanbin rushes, beginning to flit about your bedroom at a panicked pace. “You have an interview with Kim Donghyun in an hour.”

Even through your sleepy haze, the statement immediately has you sitting up straight. “What?!”

As the darling son of the South Korean President, Kim Donghyun was more than just a household name. He was held as a sort of international superstar, known for his mellow temperament and his stunning looks. As the child of your own nation’s president, you have crossed paths with him quite a few times; enough times, in fact, to know just how much of an utter asshole he is.

“What do you mean interview with Kim Donghyun?” You ask, as Hanbin hadn’t bothered to clarify.

The man is still pacing the length of your lavish bedroom, typing something angrily into his phone.

“It’s for the BBC. They are doing some story on the children of international government officials. Since the Kim family is here for the United Nations Gala later this week, they asked to squeeze in an interview for you two to do together.”

“Together?” You groan, running your hands through your already messy hair. “Why didn’t you tell them no?”

“Your mother’s assistant accepted before I even heard about it. She also just so happened to forget to tell me until 15 minutes ago,” Hanbin sighs, finally stopping his hurried movement. “Please, just get dressed. There will be hair and makeup at the interview site, but we have to leave soon.”

You can’t help but groan again, fighting the tantrum building up in your core. A last minute interview would already irritate you enough, but having to do it with Kim Donghyun is enough to have you cursing the universe.

It blew your mind that he was able to be the world’s golden child when he had such a rotten core. He was disgustingly cocky and spoiled, clearly used to having everyone in his life cater to him. He couldn’t be bothered with anyone who he didn’t perceive to be of his status, never choosing to mingle with anyone except for his exclusive inner circle.

What makes it all worse is how disgustingly attractive he is. His blonde locks always frame his face perfectly, sometimes falling to obscure one of his ever-so-sparkly eyes. His full lips are always twisted into that cocky smirk he constantly wears, his left cheek always dimpling with the expression. He was tall and built like a model, his godly proportions always highlighted by the perfectly tailored suits he wore.

He’s so beautiful; you fucking hate him.

His deplorable beauty twists your stomach into knots an hour and a half later, when you slide into the seat next to him. The interview space has been set up so that the two of you are seated in chairs just inches apart, bright lights shining down on you so that the cameras can capture virtually any flaw. But of course, Donghyun still looks perfect, greeting you with his signature smirk.

“Y/N,” he drawls, voice deep and syrupy like honey. “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough, clearly.”

You pointedly ignore the deep chuckle that your remark earns you. The sound still manages to slip past your barriers, setting the pit of your stomach ablaze.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me.”

You can’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes even though Donghyun can barely see it. “You wish.”

“Yeah,” Donghyun whispers, barely audible. “I do wish.”

Palpable tension is nothing new for the two of you, your perpetual spats and teasing always leaving the air in the room a bit thicker than it had been before. The flirting always adds another layer. It’s not as if either of you mean anything by it, nor would anything ever happen between the two of you. But something about the smooth ways Donghyun counters your banter while looking like he wants to eat you alive makes you consistently hot under the collar.

It’s at that moment that the interviewer makes her way onto set, greeting you both with a warm smile. She’s clearly a fan of Donghyun, seemingly only addressing him in the few moments you have before the interview officially starts. The moment you get the countdown and the notice that they’re rolling from the director, however, she slips on her professional mask and begins the interview.

The hour slot goes by both painfully slow and surprisingly quick. You find it easy to get lost in Donghyun’s answers, fighting the urge to stare at his mouth as he speaks. But when it comes to your own answers, you find it hard to articulate exactly what you mean. It makes the minutes trickle by at a snail’s pace, only for the time to pick back up when Donghyun opens his mouth again.

You let out a sigh when the interview is finally over, the journalist thanking both you and Donghyun before disappearing somewhere off set. It leaves you and Donghyun seated while various crew members fuss over you to rid you of your mics. The silence between the two of you only lasts for a few moments before Donghyun decides to break it.

“You should come over.”

You can’t help but look at the man as if he’d grown another head, gaze flickering between Donghyun and the rest of the crew that lingers within earshot. He just shrugs, clearly uncaring if anyone overhears.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You whisper as harshly as you can. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Ehh…not yet,” Donghyun smiles. “So come over.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“I have some, uh, business matters I’d like to discuss with you.”

Before you have a chance to respond, Donghyun is standing from his chair, mile-long legs making themselves known as he rises to his full height. It takes everything in you not to stare at how stupidly tiny his waist is or how disgustingly broad his shoulders look in his suit jacket.

“I’ll have my people contact your people,” Donghyun says as he turns to leave, shooting you the tiniest smirk. “I’ll see you at eight, Y/N.”

. . .

You choose to show up to the specified address closer to 9:30pm than the expected 8. Hanbin says it’s out of spite, but you just consider it being fashionably late. Of course, no one is ever fashionably late to a business meeting, but a nagging feeling in your core tells you that it will be anything but that.

Your interactions with Donghyun have never simply been about business. The two of you always find yourselves in too close proximity, heated arguments ending up with you getting in each others’ faces or quiet insults whispered between a minimal space. Every attempt that the two of you have made to be cordial and civil just ends in fire and flirtation. So, the two of you have simply stopped trying. You no longer hide behind the guise of business or international affairs, choosing instead to be transparent in your desires to see each other. After all, both of you want nothing more than to push each other’s buttons.

Your suspicions are confirmed the minute you’re let into a swanky penthouse in the financial district of town, a well-known area for foreign ambassadors and their family residences. A sleek black door opens to reveal a shocked face that quickly melts into smugness. Donghyun simply smirks before opening the door wider, motioning for you to come in.

What was supposed to be a business meeting is obviously much more of a house party than anything else. You recognize a few familiar faces: Ricky Shen, the son of the U.S. vice president, Ning Yizhuo, the daughter of your country’s ambassador to China, and even the Yoon brothers, the sons of the Canadian Prime Minister. It seems like all of the children of top officials are here, drinking and chatting idly around the lavish apartment. If you were an outsider, you would laugh, the scene seeming all too much like a shitty movie interpretation of the life of the elite. But you know all too well that this is how it goes.

You’re sure that somewhere, there’s a stash of the world’s purest cocaine for anyone to indulge in. There may even be pills and other harder drugs if anyone wished to partake. The combined net worth of this crowd is well over $1 trillion, and that alone makes them untouchable. They are free to do as they please, simply enjoying the ability to be imperfect while the entire world sees them as the exact opposite.

“I’m surprised you came,” Donghyun whispers, his deep voice much closer than you remember it being.

When you turn, you find yourself almost nose to nose with the man, his greasy smirk still poised on his flawless face.

“I thought we were going to talk business,” you manage out, sounding much more confident than you truly feel. “Didn’t know that business involved so many people.”

Donghyun cocks a perfectly manicured brow. “You wish it was just the two of us, then?”

You can’t help but scoff, instantly reminded of your deep disdain for the man. “I wish you would stop fucking with me, Donghyun.”

A call of the man’s name sounds from somewhere deeper in the apartment, forcing the two of you out of your unintentional bubble. Over your shoulder, you can spot Donghyun’s typical entourage of friends, all beckoning him over with a frantic wave of the hand. Donghyun seems to notice at the same time, sighing deeply before taking a long swig of the beer in his hand. You struggle not to track the movement of his throat as he swallows.

“Well,” he sighs. “Duty calls. Try to have a little fun, sweetheart. You look like you need it.”

The man is gone before you can give him a piece of your mind, leaving you alone in the room full of people. Luckily, they’re all people that you know, having been well acquainted since early childhood. Everyone in this world knows everyone, which leads to a revolving door of familiar faces at every function. As much as you crave novelty, you can’t help but appreciate the familiarity.

Even still, it takes you a couple drinks to relax into the atmosphere. You find yourself giggling and making rounds as you mingle, spending extra time indulging in people that you know push Donghyun’s buttons. As much as you don’t care about the man and his reactions, you can admit how fun it is to see him riled up.

“I swear you get more beautiful every time I see you,” Jake gushes, plush bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “There’s no way you’re still single.”

You shrug, preening under the praise. “I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t found anyone who wants it bad enough.”

Hook, line, and sinker. Jake looks like he’s only a few seconds from devouring you whole, eyes raking your form despite the fact that your outfit reveals nothing. He reaches forward, his fingertips just barely brushing the curve of your waist before you’re snatched backwards. You stumble into a firm chest, the arm wrapped around your waist keeping you steady against the tall figure behind you.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a deep voice mumbles, easily recognizable. “I just need to steal Y/N for a second. Feel free to grab another drink or something in the meantime.”

You can barely register the confusion on Jake’s face before you’re being whisked away, only managing to shoot the boy a quick wave before you’re ushered down a hallway. It’s only once you’re decently far away from the noise of the party that you’re backed up against a wall, Donghyun’s frame leaning over you. He’s far enough that it would seem casual to an outside viewer. But you know that it’s anything but.

“No dating scandals for years, and yet you’re willing to risk it all for Jake Sim?” Donghyun chuckles cruelly. “Didn’t peg you for that type.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to be all up in my business,” you retort, crossing your arms across your chest defiantly. “You jealous that it’s not you?”

“We both know that it could be…that it should be.”

A sly smirk is poised on Donghyun’s face as he peers down his nose at you, strong arm continuing to cage you against the wall. You could escape if you really wanted to, a clear opening for you to slip by and go about your night. But you don’t really want to, a fact that both of you know.

This is how it’s always gone between you, a perpetual game of cat and mouse. The two of you have spent your entire lives circling each other, just waiting for someone to fall into the other’s trap. And right now, backed against a wall, you realize that this time, you’re the prey. Instead of fear, however, a stinging warmth floods your veins.

“Admit it,” Donghyun whispers, words clearly just meant for the two of you. “I know you just want to say it.”

“Admit what?”

Your voice only comes out as a mere whisper, the wild thumping of your heart making it impossible to focus on your words. Donghyun knows the effect that he has on you, knows that just one smirk sent your way is enough to have you fuming for the rest of the day. He knows how much you think about him, how much you crave him, but he needs to hear you say it.

“Admit that you want me.”

The short command has your breath stuttering in your chest, eyes growing wide. You always enjoyed the push and pull around Donghyun, the game of never quite knowing where the both of you stood. It seems like he does too, always quick to playfully flirt and jokingly fight. But to admit it out loud, that’s something new.

To admit it out loud would be admitting defeat.

“And what do I get if I admit it?”

Donghyun just scoffs, cocky smirk deepening. “Then maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“And what is it that I want?”

The man leans closer, the scent of his cherry chapstick ever so enticing. You can’t help the way your gaze shoots down to Donghyun’s lips for a brief moment, imagining what it would be like to feel them on your own. It wouldn’t be hard to close the distance, but you know that would mean you lost.

“You want to kiss me so bad.”

The stinging warmth floods your face. Fuck. Knowing that he knows how you feel and hearing him say it are two different things. And the worst part is that he’s right. All you’ve ever wanted to do since the minute you’ve encountered Kim Donghyun is kiss the smirk off his face. And there’s something in the twinkle in his eyes that tells you, for the very first time, he just might let you.

“And if I do?” Your own confidence shocks you.

“Well,” Donghyun murmurs, letting his free hand place itself on the curve of your hip. “Like I said, I just might give it to you.”

Your breath catches on an inhale, the low timbre of the man’s voice shooting electricity through your veins. Everything about Kim Donghyun is so invigorating, so thrilling, that you feel like you could get drunk on his presence. He’s simply addictive.

“I think you’re all talk, Kim,” you bite out, trying your best not to stutter through your sentence. “I think that you’re projecting to hide how much you want me.”

It’s impossible to miss the way Donghyun stares at your mouth as you talk, pupils dilating to expose something deep and raw. His thumb has halted where it was previously drawing mindless shapes into the fabric of your waistband, as if stunned by your words. His pause only lasts for a few seconds before leaning impossibly closer.

“There’s no denying that, sweetheart. Fuck, I want you so bad.”

Hmm, maybe you are the predator after all.

“Then do something about it.”

Donghyun shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “I need you to say it first.”

A rush of heat flashes through your core, making your knees grow weak. Your want for him has never been this bad before, but you’re finding it harder and harder to contain.

“C’mon,” Donghyun coos. “Tell me how bad you want me.”

Your lips remain parted, stuck, as you try to figure out what to say next. You can’t give in to him, but god do you want to. It’s in moments like these when you want to fold, with the warm fan of Donghyun’s breath on your face, his eyes hooded and pupils slightly dilated, and perfectly pink lips trapped between his teeth. You could lose the game, willingly walk into his trap and put an end to all of the years of teasing. With just a few words, you could get everything you have ever wanted.

Luckily, your internal dilemma is cut short as someone emerges from a door down the hall, stumbling their way out. The girl is giggling as she drags her feet along the sleek wooden floors. Despite her sluggish steps, she seems confident in her path towards you and Donghyun, only stopping to place a perfectly manicured hand on Donghyun’s shoulder.

“Donghyun,” she practically whines. “I think Dani drank too much. She’s throwing up!”

At the slur of words, Donghyun sighs, fully straightening up and putting some distance between the two of you. You hate the way that your body instinctively leans towards him, as if magnetized. The man just shoots you an apologetic look before turning to the drunken woman hanging off his shoulder.

“Do you know where she is, Hanni?”

The girl just nods, pointing a finger back in the direction from which she came. Donghyun lets out another sigh before motioning for Hanni to take the lead. He’s quick to follow her, not before sending you a small wink.

Once the two disappear into the room that you assume is the bathroom, you text Hanbin, immediately asking him to pick you up. Suddenly, the night has turned bitter again. Only a honeyed voice could make it return to being sweet.

. . .

If you had a nickel for every time you thought about Kim Donghyun in the following days, you would be swimming in more money than your already wealthy family would ever need.

He haunts your dreams as much as he clouds your waking thoughts. The image of his normally wide, sparkling eyes hooded as they peered down into you is seared into your brain. The flex of his arm feels like it’s been tattooed behind your eyelids as it kept the distance between the two of you, a distance that you had so desperately wished to close.

You can’t help but imagine what would’ve happened if you did, if you were able to admit just how desperately you wanted him. You wonder if the desperation would bleed into the kiss you shared, or if it would be passionate and fiery like the constant bickering between the two of you. Would he continue to cage you against the wall, pressing further into your space until you were pressed flush against his body? Would you be able to feel the hard ridges of his stomach? Would his hips connect with yours as you got lost in the kiss, bodies meeting in a filthy gri—.

“It’s out!” Hanbin all but yells, interrupting your train of thought. “They’re about to air your interview with Kim Donghyun.”

You barely register Hanbin’s words before the television screen in front of you is flickering to life, bathing your face in a warm blue light. The title screen then cuts to the smiling face of the interviewer. The clip is angled so that it looks like she is smiling at both of her guests, but you remember exactly how her gaze was trained on one person only. The memory makes your blood boil.

Hanbin gushes with commentary and compliments as the highlights of the interview are aired on the news. It’s only when they move on to tales of some new humanitarian crisis in Western Europe that the man pulls out his phone, instantly scouring the internet for any mention of you.

“Oh, Y/N,” he mumbles after a moment. “I don’t know if you’re going to love this or hate this.”

“What?”

Hanbin just sighs, handing over his phone. No matter how far you scroll, similar posts keep popping up, all focused on how good you and Donghyun would look as a couple. A queasy warmth overtakes your stomach as you continue to parse through the endless support of the fictional romance between the two of you. A reaction like this would only mean that tabloids will pick up on it soon, which would lead to nothing but more rumors.

You all but shove the phone back into Hanbin’s waiting hands, groaning loudly.

“The press is going to have a field day.”

“It was a simple interview,” Hanbin soothes. “There’s nothing for the press to pick up on. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You and Donghyun just have…chemistry.”

You can’t help but scoff in disbelief. “Chemistry? I fucking hate the guy.”

“No you don’t. Everyone can tell that you don’t.”

Before you can protest, a single buzz of your phone calls your attention. You reach for it with baited breath, just knowing that it’s a family member waiting to chew you out for ruining their global image. Instead, a familiar name flashes on your screen, their text notification inspiring a fresh wave of nausea to overtake you.

The whole world can see it, sweetheart. Why can’t you?

. . .

“Remember to be nice, Y/N,” Hanbin beams, snapping you out of your daydream. “Your parents want you to mingle as much as possible.”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself the same way you do for every public appearance. This is no different, the annual United Nations Gala having been the same every time you attended. You arrive separately from your parents, who must walk the red carpet of the gala before settling in. You, on the other hand, are lucky enough to go through the back, settling into the venue with the other family members of global leaders.

You already know who will be there, and plan to keep to yourself despite Hanbin’s advice to mingle. Well, you’ll keep to yourself unless a certain someone has other plans; he always seems to.

No matter how much you had prepared yourself to see Donghyun, his beauty still takes you by surprise. He looks dashing in his all black suit, perfectly tailored to showcase the breadth of his shoulders and the length of his legs. It’s not too different from his interview outfit earlier in the week, but it stuns you all the same.

What is different, though, is the small smile he shoots you when he catches your gaze. It’s far from the annoyingly cocky smirk that you’re used to, or his diplomatic grin that is constantly plastered over every news outlet. His smile almost seems sheepish, as if he is revealing an embarrassing secret simply by letting the corners of his lips turn up. His rosy cheeks add to his shy and childish demeanor, which you instantly blame on the abundance of alcohol at the event.

You shake your head slightly, as if to physically shake the sight of him out of your head. The only thing you are able to do is turn the opposite way, scrambling towards the nearest table. You shove any thoughts of Kim Donghyun to the back of your mind as you prepare yourself for an excruciatingly long night.

It ends up feeling even longer than you expected. Every so often, you found your thoughts drifting back to Donghyun, back to the deep drawl of his voice or the plush pink of his bottom lip. You banished those thoughts to the back of your mind and forced yourself to pay attention as some foreign diplomat would go on and on about the humanitarian efforts in their country. Then you’d find yourself drifting, Donghyun seeping into your mind and clouding it with a thick fog.

It was a cycle, on and on until eventually the closing remarks were made. You sigh in relief as the program finally comes to a close, thankful for the opportunity to go home and get out of your stuffy attire. Just as you search the crowd for Hanbin, ready to begin your journey home, someone grabs your wrist, pulling you back ever so slightly.

“Not so fast,” a familiar voice calls, their hand spinning you so that you stand nose to nose. “I can’t just let you disappear on me.”

“I’m trying to go home, Donghyun.”

The man lets out a chuckle, as if endeared by your efforts. “No you’re not. You’re coming with me to Keita’s after party.”

“And why would I do that?”

The man finally releases your wrist, choosing to take a step further into your space. You’re suddenly cognizant of all the potential eyes on you. Not only are the press here, putting you in jeopardy of being plastered on the front page of every tabloid, but you’re surrounded by the world’s elite. People talk and rumors travel. The last thing you would want is to bring any sort of bad attention to your family.

“Because you want to,” Donghyun whispers, uncaring about the hundreds of people around you. “Because I want you to.”

“That’s all you want?”

Donghyun chuckles darkly. “Oh sweetheart, that doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I want. So, you coming? My driver is out front.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hanbin lingering by the door. It should be so easy to say no and go home with your aid. It should be easy to brush Donghyun off and go about your night. But something swims in your stomach at your thought. In the end, you sigh, rolling your eyes before leveling Donghyun with a look.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

It ends up being much harder to feign disinterest in the confines of Donghyun’s car. There’s a partition up, separating you and Donghyun from the driver, providing you an unexpected amount of intimacy. You would think it’s a little presumptuous, if not for the way that Donghyun remains perfectly polite throughout the ride.

You’re expecting some fiery banter or obnoxious teasing, but Donghyun makes simple small talk as you ride through the hustle and bustle of the city. It’s almost as if the boy is being nice. You two have never even begun to venture into nice territory, leaving you at a loss for how to respond. You find yourself craving your normal dynamic of push and pull for the entire time, up until you reach your destination.

Keita’s after party looks like every after party you’ve ever attended, not quite anything special, from the people, to the drugs, to the music. It’s all so cookie cutter. The only thing that is new, however, is how Donghyun keeps you close to his side the entire night.

His hand remains firmly wrapped around your waist as you navigate the party, only releasing you to pour the occasional drink. It’s impossible to ignore the way people look at you, eyes trained on your permanent point of contact as they shoot you knowing smiles. It leaves heat flooding your cheeks the entire night, face stained with a permanent flush that only gets worse as you knock back drinks.

The worst part is that you don’t even hate it. You find it all too easy to melt into Donghyun’s embrace as you chat idly with a few acquaintances. Exchanging soft smiles when he whispers a snarky comment into your ear feels like second nature. As right as it feels, you can’t fight the swirl of conflict bubbling in your core. Whether it’s from the alcohol, or the man by your side, it reminds you just how wrong this should be.

Just hours ago, you were worried about the optics of even speaking to Donghyun. Now, however, you can’t seem to care about the fact that you look like a proper couple, which is all but forbidden in your world. It isn’t until later in the night, when the party is dying down, that you begin to wonder where this all started.

“Donghyun,” you whisper, “what are we doing?”

His soft hum rumbles through his body into yours. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what is all of this?” You motion to where his hand is poised firmly on your hip, unmoving as you both lean onto an adjacent wall. “You haven’t stopped touching me since we got here.”

“Do you not want me to? I can back off…” he trails off, slowly removing any point of contact.

Before he can get far, though, you find yourself reaching out, catching his wrist in a firm grip. It feels like second nature as you guide him back to the curve of your waist, shivering when you feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of your dress.

“No, that’s not—,” you take a deep breath. “Just, why?”

Donghyun seems conflicted for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut as he sighs. When he opens them, his grip on your waist tightens. With a swift tug, you stumble forward, only to stabilize yourself with your palms on his chest. The movement brings you nose to nose, the newfound closeness forcing you to go a little cross-eyed to maintain eye contact.

“Because, fuck, if you won’t admit it,” Donghyun swallows, his throat bobbing enticingly, “I will.”

“What?”

Donghyun’s voice comes out strained, borderline painful as he speaks. “I want you so bad. I haven’t ever wanted anyone as bad as I want you. Fuck, sweetheart, I have for years. And I know you think this is the alcohol talking, but I promise it’s not. Every time I see you and get to mess with you and you flirt back it’s like god. Everything about you is just so amazing and sexy and—,”

Donghyun’s lips remain frozen for a second as you blanket them with yours. It takes a beat, two, three, before his brain resets enough to realize that you’re kissing him. Because you’re kissing him. Kim Donghyun, the man that you hate. You’re kissing him.

You only part a few centimeters, leaving only enough space between your bodies for your mingling breaths.

“I want you, too,” you whisper, voice thick with nerves. “There. I admitted it.”

. . .

The second ride in Donghyun’s car is much less polite than the first. Instead of side by side, you sit straddling the man’s lap, dress hiked up dangerously high. The only seat belt you have is Donghyun’s hands, one firmly grasping at your ass while the other tilts your jaw downwards. Never had you been more grateful for a partition.

Kissing Donghyun is nothing like what you imagined it would be. Instead of the calm, gentle side that he likes to display to the public, this Donghyun is demanding. He licks into your mouth filthily, using his overwhelming strength to keep you exactly where he wants you. He parts every so often to bite into your plush bottom lip, smirking at the soft moans that leave your mouth every time. His kisses are demanding, taking everything he wants from you while giving you everything in return.

It’s only when his kisses trail down to the side of your jaw and neck that they grow more gentle, his plush lips teasing as they ghost over unmarked skin. You’re almost tempted to beg for a mark, to beg for longer lasting proof that this is real.

Donghyun wants you. Donghyun has you.

It’s his hands that dig into the meat of your thighs, grip strong and possessive. It’s his hips that roll up to meet yours in a stunted grind, the rhythm thrown off by the car hitting an occasional pothole. It’s his lips on yours. It’s his blonde strands that remain carded through your fingers.

You have him. You want him.

And for once, you have no problem admitting it.

.FIN.

#leehan #leehan imagines #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor smut #written in the stars #bnd #bnd imagines

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gaza-giving-tree · 20 days ago

Note

"A Cry from the Heart of Besieged Gaza"

My dear brother/sister,🍉🇵🇸

I am speaking to you today from the heart of suffering and pain, from the Gaza Strip, which is being subjected to the most heinous types of wars and destruction. I am Mohammed Saqr, a young Palestinian man who dreams like any young man in the world, but this dream turned to ashes due to the fires of war that destroyed my home and deprived me of everything I own.

Tell your story in a moving way:🇵🇸🍉

I aspired to complete my university studies, but the war displaced me and my family of 12, and destroyed everything that connected me to my previous life. Imagine losing everything you built with the sweat of your brow in a single moment! Imagine being deprived of your most basic rights to live with dignity and security!

Donation goal:

We are striving to rebuild our lives anew, and we hope that you will help us achieve this dream. Your donation, no matter how small, will contribute to:

Providing safe shelter: to build a new home that will receive us after years of displacement and asylum.

Resuming studies: So that I can complete my university studies and achieve my dream.

Family support: To provide a decent life for my family who have endured a lot.

A call for solidarity:

I invite you to be part of this humanitarian effort, and to contribute to shaping a better future for Gaza and its people. Your donation is not just a sum of money, but a message of hope and solidarity to the Palestinian people.

A strong conclusion:🍉🇵🇸

Do not let injustice and oppression prevail, and do not allow our dreams to be lost. Help us rebuild our lives, and may your hand be white in bringing a smile back to the faces of children and youth in Gaza.🇵🇸🍉

A family of 12 in Gaza is trying to escape to safety in Egypt.

They are being charged €5000 a person to be able to escape...a price that keeps fluctuating as the Egyptian government changes it.

This is the story of Mohammed Saqr.

An update from Mohammed:

Mohammed Saqr is pleading for support to escape unimaginable hardship and provide safety for his family. After losing their home, education, and dreams to conflict, he hopes to raise enough funds to bring his family to a place of security. His two young daughters, innocent victims of circumstances beyond their control, deserve a childhood filled with joy, not trauma. With evacuation costs skyrocketing and daily life marked by uncertainty, he asks the global community for help to rebuild their lives. No contribution is too small to make a difference. Even if you can't donate, sharing Mohammed's story and amplifying his plight helps immensely towards getting Mohammed's family to safety.

You can donate to Mohammed's fundraiser [HERE].

#HumanRights #FamilySupport #EmergencyAid #Fundraiser #ConflictRelief #ChildrenInNeed #HelpFamilies #HumanitarianCrisis #SupportChildren #CharityCampaign #SaveLives #CrisisSupport #RebuildLives #FamilyFirst #HopeForFuture #WarImpact #TraumaHealing #GlobalCommunity #UnityInCrisis #SupportNow #UrgentHelp #DonationDrive #ChildhoodMatters #HumanityFirst #ReliefEffort #BeTheChange #StandTogether #SafeHaven #HelpNow #EndSuffering

#free gaza #free palestine #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gaza #palestine #signal boost #gofundme #humanity #the human family

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samodivaa · 1 year ago

Text

“Scraps and shreds of thoughts were simply swarming in his brain, but he could not catch at one, he could not rest on one, in spite of all his efforts…” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

smut - ⁂ ︳angst - ☢ ︳fluff - ☀

dividers by - @saradika The fics that I read May-December.

White Wolf by mrsbuckybarnes1917 | ⁂

Summary: You meet Bucky while you're in Wakanda and you just can't resist his wolfish charms!

Tied Up by duckybarnes1917 | ⁂

Summary: Bucky wants to be tied up, teased, and denied.

Stallion for the show by rookthorne | ⁂

Summary: It was your first classic car meet and you were excited for what lay ahead. Meeting others within the scene and maybe the possibility of making friends was your goal, but what awaited you was much, much more intense – for better, or for worse.

night visits by httpwintersoldier | ⁂

Summary: usually people find their own interests, but when you are "forcefully recruited" to work under HYDRA, your interest found you first.

for your own good by witchywithwhiskey | ⁂

Summary: bucky barnes is gifted a strange-looking plant but when you, his closest friend in avengers tower after steve rogers, touches the leaves, it lets out a strange cloud of pollen. both you and bucky soon feel the effects of the plant's pollen and, though bucky's worried about hurting you, you know he never would—and you need his help. desperately.

Dream Maker by thenhewaswrongaboutme | ⁂

Summary: Bucky comes home late one night after a mission. You're already asleep, but he can't wait any longer— he needs you now.

Haunted by targaryenvampireslayer | ⁂ , ☢

Summary: Bucky was taken from you by Hydra a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him…until he starts coming back to you

Holding on by joey-marvel14 | ☢, ☀

Summary: you notice Bucky is been more quiet then usual. He’s not talking to anyone, not even you. Bucky becomes withdrawn, his eyes are more puffy and sleep deprived, you notice he’s not eating as much either.

My everything by mrsbarnesblog | ☢, ☀

Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.

Praise Kink by bucknastysbabe | ⁂ , ☢

I want to know who I'm looking at by world-of-aus | ⁂ metal arm kink fr by buckyalpine | ⁂ This Can't Go On Forever by vonalyn | ☢

Bucky's sweet treats by nicoline1998enilocin | ☀

Summary: Bucky has always enjoyed your baked goods and other sweet treats, so when you start leaving them for him to find when he comes back from missions, he can't help but smile like an idiot every times he sees you, or one of your treats.

Rebound by adrinktostopyourthirst | ☢, ⁂, ☀

Summary: You lose your last tether to the normal world and Bucky has to make a decision. You’re officially part of the Underground. Does he help you, or not?

in losing grip, on sinking ships by mellowsaturns | ☢

Summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

Your Mission by mrsbuckybarnes1917 | ⁂

You're a HYDRA asset tasked with tracking down and recovering a lost soldier: Bucky Barnes. Story takes place between CA: WS and CA: CW.

Reset - Masterlist by lunarbuck | ☢, ⁂

Summary: The government has fallen, Hydra has taken over. You were an agent of SHIELD long before the reign of terror began, and became a member of the resistance when they needed you most. Everything changes when the Winter Soldier captures you from your safe house.

Slaughter - Masterlist by lunarbuck | ☢, ⁂

Summary: The Winter Soldier takes what he wants

The Bride of Soldat: Masterlist by vampy-doll | ☢, ⁂

Summary: In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.

Soldiers by thefallennightmare | ☢, ☀, ⁂

Summary: Reader has spent the last seventy years in hell as a prisoner soldier; Hydra's greatest weapon. Well, second greatest weapon after The Winter Soldier. The only thing that got her through that hell was him, even if she was the one behind his biggest pain.

Please don’t take him (even though you can) by hansensgirl | ☢

Summary: She can have anyone she wants, but you can never love again. Not without him.

Miss Velvet Masterlist by missvelvetsstuff | ☢, ⁂, ☀

Summary: Y/N is a disabled equestrian and therapeutic riding instructor who helps Tony Stark with his PTSD after returning from Titan. When the Avengers bring everyone back he hires her to work with Avengers and SHIELD hires her as therapist and teaching basic riding skills because you never know when a horse will be the best mode of transportation.

Going Under by beefromanoff | ☢, ☀

Summary: As a wildly famous singer's safety is called into question, Bucky Barnes is assigned to act as her personal security. over the course of the tour, their relationship evolves from professional into something more. when disaster strikes, Bucky is the one waiting to avenge her.

Kiss Me If You Can by deliciousangelfestival

Summary: Bucky, a stern lieutenant, discovers that his first love has become a famous phantom thief, sparking a thrilling cat-and-mouse chase with a romantic twist as he can't bear to see her imprisoned but prefers to keep her close.

deadly nightshade masterlist by kinanabinks | ☢, ⁂

Summary: as an upcoming agent, it is your job to remain professional and appropriate with your colleagues, and especially your seniors. but there's something about bucky barnes you can't seem to shake - as long as his girlfriend doesn't find out, it'll be fine. right?

#list 1 #bucky barnes #fic rec #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #winter soldier x you #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut

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the-winter-spider · 4 months ago

Text

The View Between Villages: Part One

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x Reader

A/N: I had this posted forever ago, buut i decided to rewrite and make the story better cuz it was bleh before. I had this idea obvs watching NWH and i loooove Bucky but i alsp loooooove Andrew Garfields spiderman so here we are LOL

Masterlist

—

You were out of touch with the world and everything going on in it—which had to be a lot; it was always a lot.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to leave your new home—scratch that, apartment. Nothing and no one was ever going to be “home” to you again.

You were done. Done with trying to see the brighter side of things, like Tony always told you to. You should’ve listened to Natasha. Love was for children, and you were so young when you fell in love with him. But neither of you were children anymore. Life was hard; you always knew it would be, but never in a hundred years did you expect your path to twist the way it did.

How did you get it so wrong? You couldn’t stop thinking about that day—the day you mustered up the courage to talk to the boy next door. Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you should have just let it be, and you wouldn’t have been sucked into the whirlpool that became your life.

Maybe then you would have found a husband, had a couple of children, and died at 80, like everyone you had ever known did.

But instead, you found yourself here, in a world that wasn’t your own. The day you appeared out of thin air, you knew—deep in your bones—that nothing was right. Nothing was where it should be. And when that door in the white room opened, and Steve walked through, you couldn’t help but laugh. Did you really die of heartache and go to heaven? Because that made more sense than it being 2011, when you could’ve sworn it was 1945 just two seconds ago, and Steve was dead.

You waited anxiously for Bucky to follow Steve through that door. If Steve was here, then Bucky had to be here too, right?

But you were wrong. So very wrong. This wasn’t heaven. It was some safe house on the outskirts of New York, occupied by a government agency called SHIELD. Bucky was still dead. Steve wasn’t. And neither were you.

You could never have imagined that the war would follow you into the future, that the ghosts of your past would walk the streets of a world you didn’t recognize. But here you were, alive in a time that shouldn’t have been yours, surrounded by people who were only half the versions of themselves you had once known.

Steve tried to tell you it would be okay, that the world had moved on and so could you. But what did he know about moving on? His world ended in 1945 too, just like yours. And just like you, he was a relic of a time gone by, a ghost haunting the present.

But unlike you, Steve had a purpose. A mission. He always did. You, on the other hand, were just trying to survive, to make sense of the shattered pieces of your life. And every day, you couldn’t help but wonder—was this all that was left? Just an endless loop of waking up in a world that didn’t feel like yours, surrounded by people who didn’t really know you?

You used to believe in fate, in some grand design that connected all the moments of your life. But now, all you saw was chaos—a mess of broken dreams and lost futures, tangled together in a web that you couldn’t escape from. And yet, there was no going back. No undoing the choices that led you here, to this place, this time.

But there was one thing you were certain of: as long as you were alive, you would never stop searching—for a way back, for a way out, for a way to make sense of the senseless.

For Bucky.

Because even after everything, you couldn’t let go of the hope that somewhere, somehow, he was out there, waiting for you to find him.

—

Flashback - 2011

“We’re going to be okay, y/n/n, I promise.” Steve’s hand reached out to squeeze yours, a familiar warmth in an unfamiliar world.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “How is any of this okay, Steve? I have no idea how I’m here or why. I just went out for a walk after that woman told me about you, and the next thing I know, I’m here. And you’re here—you’re supposed to be dead.” You were standing now, pacing, as the rain hammered against the window. “And he’s still gone. How is that fair? How is this okay?”

Before Steve could answer, the door burst open, and a man you didn’t recognize stormed in. “If you don’t calm her down, we’re gonna be under water here in a few seconds.”

Your eyes shot back to Steve, panic setting in. “What’s he talking about?”

Steve sighed, standing up from the chair he’d been sitting in. “I haven’t told her yet, Stark.”

The man rolled his eyes and adjusted his stance to face you more directly. “Look, Sleeping Beauty, I know this is a lot to take in. I get that, I really do. But we’re beating around the bush here.”

“Stark,” Steve warned, his tone firm.

The man—Stark—waved him off, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “You have powers. Yes, superpowers.”

A crackle of thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows.

He gave you a reassuring smile, pointing towards the storm outside. “All that? That’s you. You’re doing that.”

Your mouth parted in disbelief, your head shaking as you turned back to Steve. “He’s telling the truth, y/n,” Steve said softly.

“I always am,” Stark added, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You took a hesitant step towards the window, staring out at the storm raging outside. You could feel something inside you, something new and terrifying, pulsing with the rhythm of the thunder. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and suddenly, the image of his smile flashed behind your eyelids—Bucky’s smile.

You felt them both standing behind you, their presence grounding you. Stark’s voice was closer now, softer. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

When you opened your eyes, the rain had stopped, the clouds parting to reveal a brilliant rainbow stretching across the sky. You stared at it, a symbol of hope in a world that made no sense.

Steve smiled down at you, his arm coming around your shoulder as he leaned in close, his voice a whisper just for you. “For Bucky.”

And for the first time since you found yourself in this new world, you felt a flicker of something—something that might, in time, grow into a reason to keep going.

—

You weren’t sure how you felt about that memory. At the time, you were so grateful to have at least one of your boys back in your life. And you were happy to have a new one—Tony. He meant so much to you, quickly becoming one of the best people you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting in your century-long life.

But of course, that didn’t last long. Nothing good ever does.

Tony used to tell you that this was it, the big fight, the one that would decide everything. You believed him. You thought maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to pull a win out of thin air, like the team always seemed to do, even in those desperate last-second efforts.

But then, on that barren planet in outer frickin’ space, you watched everything unravel. You watched as your friends—your family—slowly turned to dust, one by one. You held onto Peter’s hand, trying to offer whatever support you could, but when he was gone, you started to feel it. The hollowness. The creeping despair.

It was as if the universe was collapsing in on itself, taking with it all the hope you had left. You were supposed to be the strong one, the one who had lived through so much loss and still kept fighting. But in that moment, you felt as fragile as the dust slipping through your fingers.

The silence that followed was deafening. You were alone again, surrounded by the echoes of those you had loved and lost. And this time, not even Steve or Tony could pull you back from the edge.

Back on Earth, when the world should have been mourning, you couldn’t. There was no time for grief. You had to keep going, keep fighting, even though you felt like there was nothing left of you but a shell. Every day was a battle against the overwhelming urge to give up, to let the weight of everything crush you.

But you couldn’t. Not yet. Not when there was still a chance—however slim—that you could bring them back. That you could bring him back.

The thought of Bucky was the only thing that kept you going. The memory of his smile, his laugh, the way he always knew how to make you feel like you belonged, no matter where—or when—you were. He was the constant in your life, the one thread that tied your past to your present. And now, that thread was frayed and fragile, but it was still there, still pulling you forward.

You didn’t know what the future held. You didn’t know if you could ever truly find your way back to the life you once knew. But as long as there was a chance, you would keep fighting. For Steve. For Tony. For Peter. For all of them.

But most of all, for Bucky.

Because after everything, after all the loss and the pain and the heartache, he was still your reason. And as long as you had that, you had something worth fighting for.

—

Flashback - 2018

“Tony,” your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He looked up from the spot where Peter had just been, his eyes wide with disbelief. Your hand still hovered in the space where Peter had slipped away. “No,” he breathed, shaking his head as if he could will it all away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the weight of the words heavy on your tongue.

Realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. His face crumpled as he leaned forward, grabbing your hand, holding on as tightly as he could. “No, kid, not you too. Please, not you too.”

You looked down at your hand, watching as it began to turn to dust, dissolving right before your eyes. “It’s okay,” you murmured, trying to comfort him even as you felt yourself slipping away. “It’s okay.”

Tony’s grip tightened, his desperation palpable. “No, it’s not okay! You’re not—” His voice cracked, his heart breaking all over again. He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

As the dust spread from your hand to your arm, you felt a strange calm wash over you. Maybe it was acceptance, or maybe you were just too tired to fight anymore. “Tony, it’s okay,” you repeated, though this time your voice was softer, fading with each word.

Tears filled his eyes as he tried to hold on, as if he could keep you with him by sheer force of will. But you knew it was too late. The universe had made its choice, and all you could do was let go.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered one last time, your voice barely a breath. And then, like Peter, you were gone, leaving nothing behind but a handful of dust and a broken man clutching at the empty air where you had been.

Tony sat there, numb, his hand still outstretched as if you might somehow reappear. But you didn’t. He was alone now, surrounded by the echoes of what had been, and the unbearable silence of what would never be.

And for the first time in a long time, Tony Stark had no idea how to fix it.

—

While you were dusting away, you weren’t sad. Deep down, you knew they would find a way to bring everyone back, to win.

And they did. You came back—everyone did—but at a high cost, one that you weren’t sure was worth paying. Your home, the compound, was in ruins, and you lost members of your family along the way. Yet even then, you thought maybe, just maybe, the light would stop flickering with tragic, horrible things. Maybe it was time for it to stay on. But you were wrong. You always were.

Now, as you walked down the dark, rain-soaked streets of New York, you weren’t hurt or heartbroken. You wished you were; it would have been an honour to feel something, anything. But instead, the rain hit your skin, not with the calming or joyful effect it once had, but as another weight added to the burdens you carried.

A hundred years.

One hundred years is a long time to be alive, a number most people never even get the chance to see—but you did.

People would ramble on about how you and Steve should be so grateful for the chance to live as long as you had, how lucky you were to experience two such different decades. But you didn’t feel lucky or grateful. You felt betrayed, like your chance at ever being truly happy had been ripped out from underneath you.

You didn’t care for the powers you were burdened with. You wanted to go back—to a time before Steve was Captain America, back to when Bucky was on one knee in front of that stupid oak tree outside your parents’ old house, with lanterns scattered across the lawn. Back to when the ring was on your finger, not buried in some drawer, gathering dust.

Back to before you risked your life for the sake of your boys, only to be blindsided by them later.

Back to before Steve went back for a woman you’d never even really known until she was on your doorstep, telling you about Steve and the crash.

Back to before you fought so hard to get the love of your life back, only to have him call it off because neither of you were who you once were.

You had never felt more alone.

Had never felt more betrayed.

And then Steve left.

He didn’t just leave, though. He went back—to a life you could never touch, to a time where you didn’t exist. It felt like a final blow, the last thread connecting you to anything familiar, severed. He didn’t just leave; he chose to leave you behind.

You knew, deep down, that Steve had a right to his own happiness, that he’d earned it after everything he’d sacrificed. But it didn’t make the pain any less sharp, didn’t make the loneliness any less suffocating. You had spent so many years fighting beside him, fighting for a future where you both could find peace. And now, it felt like you were the only one still fighting.

What was left for you? The world had changed, twisted into something unrecognisable, and you were left to wander it alone, a relic of a past no one remembered, in a present you didn’t want.

The rain kept falling, soaking through your clothes, chilling you to the bone. But you kept walking, each step heavier than the last. You didn’t know where you were going, or if you’d ever find your way back to anything resembling a home. Maybe you didn’t have a home anymore.

The weight of a hundred years pressed down on you, each memory a stone in the ever-growing pile on your back. And as you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it—if any of it had been worth it.

You thought of Bucky, of that ring, of the life you’d dreamed of and never got to live. You thought of Steve, and the life he’d chosen, one that didn’t include you. And for the first time, you wondered if maybe it was time to stop fighting. To let the past go, to let it rest.

But the question remained—if you let go of the past, what was left?

You didn’t have an answer. And that scared you more than anything else.

Flashback - 2023

“You’re what?”

Steve sighed, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders. “When I put the stones back, I’m going to stay. I’m going to find her, and taste a bit of the life Tony kept telling me to get.”

“You’re just gonna leave us? Just like that?” Your voice trembled as your hand ripped out of Bucky’s grasp. You were standing now, your heart pounding in your chest. “W-when we finally have a chance at being happy, like before?!”

“Doll—” Bucky reached for your hand again, his voice gentle, pleading.

But you stepped further away, your breath hitching as you tried to process the betrayal unfolding before you. “I can’t believe after everything—you’re just going to leave me again? What if something happens, and you’re not here, and we fail, Steve? What then?”

He tried to speak, to offer some comfort, but you couldn’t hear him over the roar of your own despair. You felt as though the world was crumbling beneath your feet, the ground giving way to a chasm of loneliness you’d fought so hard to escape.

Steve stepped forward, pulling you into his arms as your resolve shattered, and you sobbed into his chest. His embrace, once your source of comfort, now felt like a cruel reminder of what you were about to lose. You clung to him, knowing this would be the last time.

“You’re not going to fail, Y/n/n,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you tighter. “The world has you, and you have Bucky.”

His words, meant to reassure, only deepened the wound. How could he say that? How could he abandon you, abandon the fight, when you needed him the most? The man who had been your rock through a century of war and loss was now choosing to walk away, leaving you to pick up the pieces alone.

“Steve… please,” you choked out, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me again.”

But even as you said it, you knew it was already too late. His mind was made up. The man who had always been by your side, who had fought with you through every nightmare, was choosing a different life—a life without you.

“Doll, he’s right,” Bucky’s voice broke through the haze of your grief, but it felt distant, like it was coming from another world. “We’ll get through this. We’ll keep fighting, just like we always have.”

But the words felt hollow, empty. How could you keep fighting when the person you’d fought hardest with was walking away? How could you believe in a future that didn’t include the one man who had always been there?

Steve pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up so you had to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with sorrow, with regret, but also with a determination you couldn’t break. “You’re stronger than you know,” he said softly. “You always have been.”

But that strength felt like a curse now, a burden you didn’t want to carry anymore. What good was strength when it meant being left behind, over and over again? What good was it when the people you loved the most kept choosing to leave?

“I don’t want to be strong,” you whispered, the words falling from your lips like a confession. “I just want you. I just want us.”

He closed his eyes, his own pain etched into every line of his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, the final thread between you unravelled. You felt it snap, felt the emptiness rush in to fill the space where Steve had always been. You stepped back, slipping out of his arms, the cold air rushing in to replace his warmth.

Bucky moved toward you, his face etched with his own heartbreak, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to take comfort in his presence. Not now. Not when the wound was still fresh, bleeding with the knowledge that Steve had chosen a life that didn’t include you.

You turned away from them both, unable to bear the sight of their faces. The betrayal was too sharp, too deep, cutting through everything you thought you knew. You had fought so hard, given so much, and in the end, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

The door closed behind you as you walked away, each step echoing in the hollow silence that filled the room. And as you disappeared into the night, the tears fell freely, the weight of a hundred years pressing down on your shoulders.

This time, you weren’t sure if you could keep going. This time, you weren’t sure if there was anything left to fight for.

Then Bucky left, and he took the last part of you with him.

Flashback - 2024

“I just feel it’s for the best, doll,” Bucky’s eyes were pleading, searching yours for a trace of understanding, for some sign that you’d see where he was coming from. But you didn’t.

“I don’t understand, Buck.”

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he tried to take yours. But you pulled away, placing your hands in your lap before he could touch you. You saw the way he swallowed hard, fighting back the heartbreak that threatened to spill over. “It’s just… this is the first time in 70 years that I’m free and—”

“You want to be free from everything that reminds you of the past, and that includes me?” Your voice was laced with betrayal, each word like a shard of glass cutting through the fragile remains of your heart.

His mouth opened, then closed, as if he couldn’t find the right words. He shook his head violently, desperate to make you understand. “No, not at all, doll. It’s not like that. I just need some time—time to figure out who I am now.”

You nodded, the numbness settling in as you pushed your chair back. The sound of it scraping against the floor echoed in the silence that had fallen between you. The silence of an ending.

“Don’t go, please,” his voice cracked, desperation seeping through the cracks in his resolve. “I love y—”

But before he could finish, you reached up, your fingers trembling as you unclasped the necklace from around your neck. The necklace you’d worn every day since you got it back. A single ring hung from the chain, its weight a constant reminder of what could have been. You placed it on the table beside his gloved hand, the sound of metal on wood like the final nail in the coffin of your relationship.

“You kept it?” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with disbelief and pain.

Licking your lips, you looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I waited for you. I fought for you. It was supposed to be you, Buck. I thought it was going to be us.” You took a shaky breath, the tears you’d been holding back burning in your eyes. “I was wrong.”

Bucky picked up the ring, turning it over between his fingers as if it were a precious artifact, as if it held all the memories of what you once had. “Please, keep it,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “It’ll always be yours. My heart will always be yours, doll. I just need some time.”

You shook your head, the pain in your chest almost unbearable as you stood up and put on your coat. “I’m tired of waiting, Bucky.”

He opened his mouth to say something, to beg you to stay, but the words never came. He watched as you turned and walked away, the ring slipping from his fingers, landing on the table with a soft thud.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The weight of all those years, of all the promises broken, was too much to bear. You had given everything you had to Bucky, waited for him through a war, through decades of heartache, through every battle that followed. And now, all that waiting, all that hope, had been for nothing.

As you stepped out into the cold night air, you felt the final piece of your heart shatter. Steve had left you, and now Bucky had too. The two men who had been your world, who had been your everything, were gone. And you were alone.

You walked through the empty streets, the world around you feeling as cold and unforgiving as the emptiness inside you. The pain was overwhelming, a grief so deep it threatened to consume you. But you kept walking, each step taking you further away from the life you once knew, from the love you had lost.

You didn’t know where you were going, or what you would do now. All you knew was that the life you had fought so hard to hold onto was gone, and the future you had dreamed of was nothing more than a distant memory.

And as the night stretched on, you realised with a hollow ache that there was nothing left for you here. The life you had once shared with Steve and Bucky was over, and the person you had been with them was gone too.

You had always been a fighter, but now, for the first time in your long life, you didn’t know what you were fighting for.

—

That was six months ago. Bucky had tried to call you—more times than you could count—but you never answered. Sam had shown up more than a handful of times, but you never opened the door. When Steve passed, you watched from a distance, hidden in the shadows, watching Bucky search for you in the crowd, his eyes filled with an emptiness that mirrored your own.

Were you really that bad at making choices? So bad that you’d never be anyone’s first choice?

Your fingers traced the old oak tree, the one with a heart engraved into its bark, marked with “Y/N + Bucky = Always & Forever.” What a lie. What a cruel, empty promise.

Your hand gripped the tree, nails digging into the rough bark until they bled. The pain felt like the only real thing left in this world. You let out an agonizing scream, a cry so raw and broken that it seemed to tear the very sky apart. The rain began to pour down rapidly, the wind whipping through the trees, the sky echoing your torment with a thunderous roar. The roots of the oak surged up from the earth, cracking the tree down the center, splitting the heart into two jagged pieces. Just like yours.

As the tree splintered, the buzzing in your pocket yanked you back from the edge of despair. You prayed it wasn’t him—Bucky. Maybe, for once, luck was on your side. As raindrops blurred your vision, you squinted at the screen. “Peter Parker” was written across it.

You exhaled the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Hi, Pete.”

“Y/N, I—I need your help,” his voice trembled, frantic and filled with guilt. “I messed up so bad. I’m sure you have a lot going on, but I just…I need help. P-please.”

The rain eased up, the storm in the sky quieting as the storm in your heart shifted.

You pressed your forehead against the broken bark of the tree, the rough surface grounding you. “Of course, Pete. Whatever you need. I told you, I’m always here for you, kid. Where are you?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you—” You could hear the relief in his voice as he exhaled. “That safe house, the one just north of where the compound used to be.”

The one where you woke up after you lost everything.

“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you need me to bring anything?”

You were already on the move, fast-walking down the street, waving desperately at any taxi that passed until one finally screeched to a halt.

“Just be ready for anything.”

A fight. He was preparing you for a fight.

“I’ll see you soon, Pete.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

You hung up, sliding into the backseat of the taxi. “Just drive straight. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

You rested your head against the cool leather, your thoughts racing as fast as your heartbeat. The driver glanced at you through the rearview mirror, his eyes wide with recognition. “You’re that Avenger, right? The one who can, like—” He hesitated, making awkward gestures with his hands. “Control the earth or something like that, right?”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “Something like that, yeah.”

As the car sped through the rain-soaked streets, you wondered what fresh hell awaited you at the safe house. But whatever it was, it had to be better than the torment you’d been living in. At least, in a fight, there was something to focus on, something other than the pain that had been gnawing at you for months.

You could feel the shattered pieces of your heart stir, not quite mending, but realigning. This wasn’t about Bucky, or Steve, or the past. This was about Peter, about keeping the promise you made to him, and to yourself.

You weren’t sure how you’d get through this, but you knew one thing for certain—you wouldn’t let Peter down. Not like you’d let yourself down. Not like you’d let Bucky go. You’d fight, because that’s all you had left to give.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #avengers fanfiction #tasm! peter parker angst #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you

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shapard · 9 months ago

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Thorned 🥀

Human!Lucifer x fem!reader

Zombie Apocalypse Au

Writing the first words of a story really is a pain in the ass sometimes.

mention of SA and gore (English is not my first Language so errors ahead!)

And here I am to feed y'all another Lucifer x reader!!

In the Closet

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2

It should’ve been a normal school day in your boring life. You are a silent nerd student in college just trying to survive with all the college bills.

Your parents aren't very supportive nor did they care about you. So, you moved out of your parents house trying to make something out of yourself.

And let's just say your mother wasn't pleased with the news and declined all your calls.

Not even your father bothers to get in contact with you. When you do get lucky he just shrugs you off and says he is busy.

Clearly a complete lie.

Your head laid on the desk not caring what the Professor is saying right now.

Your life is pretty boring. No romance, no drama and no friends. Not that you mind. You're here for a good education rather than a tragic love story.

Your mind was drifting somewhere else and thinking about the rent you must pay. It was a struggle you wished you don’t have to face.

Beside college you worked in two other part time jobs which drained you completely out. No private time or going out.

High school was the only time where you went out partying and met your ex-boyfriend. He was toxic and very self-centered.

A loud scream caught your attention. Your eyes travelled down towards the tumult that started outside.

The Pick me girl from the upper class was screaming and pressing her hand tight on her mouth. Your eyebrows raised in question, even though she is the pick me girl she never reacted this terrified?

There was screaming, gasping and sound of metal meating flesh.

Interested you watched the scenery as the girl got jumped by a guy. Shocked you saw how that guy, or rather that thing, ate her face bit by bit. Your heart felt like sliding down to your stomach, you wanted to puke.

Her new boyfriend swung a baseball bat onto the monster. The bloody tone that played when blood started to burst out was disgusting.

It made you sick to the stomach.

This is different than any movie or series you watched. This is real. No actor playing a role and no CGI.

Soon enough alarm sirens rang through the town and in the college. You tried to keep a cool outside but the panic inside you was immense. The whole classroom was screaming and some even had panic attacks.

This type of reaction wasn’t helping at all.

In your whole life of existence, you’ve never imagined that this could be really happening.

A Zombie Apocalypse.

You’ve seen it in movies and Series but never have you imagined that it really would happen.

The Professor closed the door and told you all to wait till the police comes and handle the little situation. But help never came.

You pulled out your half-charged phone hoping that the news would report that the government can handle this. All you saw was that the Police departments were under attack, and almost no one survived.

The whole city was on lockdown. And you were hiding in your classroom with your classmates.

The professor never came back. He probably died in the chaos at the own hands from his students who are just trying to protect themselves. or by Zombies.

Now the classroom seems like a save place but for days, weeks maybe even years (when you’re still alive) you knew that escaping the college is the safest idea.

Searching in the classroom for any weapon that could help you found a dissecting knife. You took it fast into your position before anyone can take it from you.

The classroom was quiet, too quiet. Like the calm before the storm.

You must find a better weapon than the small dissecting knife that’s used for surgeries or inspections on dead animals.

Most likely you wouldn’t find a weapon here in the classroom.

Your eyes shifted towards the door that has been locked, in hope none of those creatures would come here. It was a fake feeling of safety.

Everyone knows what a zombie is. But these are different. The way they move, the way they ate and who knows how they are created? Maybe a bite isn’t the only thing that transforms someone into a zombie.

A loud crashing sound made you snap out of your thoughts, and you looked at one of your classmates attacking one of your ex-friends.

Everyone watched in horror and didn’t knew what to do for themselves. The screams pierced your ear and the other didn't move an inch.

Without wasting time, you ran to the locked door and jumped with full force in the hard wood door. You have to escape and watching a slaughter isn’t the way how you’re going to die.

The pain from the harsh compact against the door didn’t stop you. You will not give up and most likely will not die in here.

Your classmates were watching how you were trying to open an escape but didn’t try to help you.

They were afraid that if they move that the zombie attack.

Your friend laid there in full display; half of the face is eaten away by the monstress being.

Your bone cracked slightly, you hissed in pain but continued. The adrenaline was pushing you to things you never thought you'd do. The pain only fueled more Adrenaline into your system.

Your heart raced a mile per minute. Your body heated up and you swung your body every time harsher against the wood surface.

Your skin, flesh and bone begged for a break, but you pushed your body against your limits. The door whined in protest as you lunged your body another time against it.

The door burst open, and the blood covered college hall came in your view.

You stumbled forward when your other classmates ran against you, the others almost walked all over you.

Your hands covered your body hoping it'll protect you from getting stepped over.

Assholes.

You looked up from the floor, your breath hitched as you looked at your dead Professor. In the middle of the floor there laid your professor in a pool of blood.

Karma hit the guy that rammed against you in full force. Your professor raised and lunged at the defenseless boy.

His screams were unbearable to hear. The anxiety in your body only grows every second.

You wanted it all to stop.

You sat in the middle of the chaos, your skirt you chose to wear today was soaked completely with blood.

You watched helplessly how your class clown got eaten in the most disgusting way.

The zombie lunged towards his body as if he searched something, something that he misses. But what could that be?

The zombie clawed with his short nails into the skin ripping the e guys fully open. Your body trembled under the disgusting sight.

As the professor seemed to not find what he was looking for, his body shifted to your direction.

His arms stretched out wanting to grab you, and a sound escaped him, a terrifying one.

Your body didn’t move as panic started to settle in, you’re the next to die. Tears started to burn their way in your eyes.

You are terrified.

His other arm was ripped off and he was still bleeding. But the zombie professor couldn't care less. A lifeless body who was searching for something desperate.

A bloody sight you wanted to look away from but couldn’t.

A hand clasped around yours and pulled you up on your feet. You were being dragged across the college, you stumbled a couple of times but never fell.

Your gaze never left your professor though as you ran through the red painted halls. As he wasn’t in your sight anymore you looked at your savior just to see your ex-boyfriend.

Striker.

“Are you okay sweetie?” His deep voice was irritating for you and brought flashbacks from your relationship.

He tried in these couple days to get back to you even though he cheated on you.

You forgot something in his house and just wanted to get it back. It was a short visit so you didn't tell him that you're going to pay a visit.

That’s when you saw Striker pounding into one of your friends Nova.

The betrayal was hurtful, you trusted her with all your heart and that stung more than some guy. Your heart ached from the loss of your boyfriend and your friend.

Striker only said the usual line: This is not what it looks like. Seriously these men need to have better excuses than this.

You pulled your hands out of his. “Fucking asshole, keep your disgusting question to yourself.” Striker rolled his eyes and tried to take your hand again, but you dodged his attempt.

“You got quite rude stallion. Remember when you used to get all cuddled up with me and begged me to dick you down.” He winked at you, and you rolled your eyes.

A cold shiver went down your spine at his pervert comment. “You’re disgusting.” Striker hummed at your respond and looked you up and down.

“Only for you baby.” He purred and stroked your cheek. You slapped his hand out of your face and walked towards the exit of the college.

He didn't change a bit.

You’d rather find a way to survive than staying any longer with your ex. Ignoring striker is the best option right now.

As you walked outside of the gates from the college grounds that was covered in corpses just to be met with way more outside. The sun was burning down on you making you sweat in anxious and the sudden heat.

A shiny object met your eye, it was a small butterfly knife. You sprinted towards it and danced in victory.

fuck yes! “Why are you dancing?” You cursed under your breath, “I thought you were already dead.” Striker chuckled and laid his hand on your shoulder. “You’re so mean baby~” He whispered in your ear. You wanted to gag at the nickname.

Since when was he behind you anyways?

“I know a place where we can stay.” Finally, something helpful from striker. “Yeah? Where?” Your positive voice brought a grin up to striker’s face. “Just follow me hottie.” His grin only raises a suspicion, but nonetheless it was safer with him than with these monsters.

As you followed behind striker the anxiety in you only grew and your suspicion was high. You two were now in the middle of nowhere in some kind of forest.

A large one at that.

Your pace started to slow down a bit and you regret your past decision to follow your ex-boyfriend in some lonely woods.

It’s not uncommon that exes kill their ex-partners. And in a zombie apocalypse no one would disagree with being a cannibal if it means to survive.

Humans were always self-centered. Even if some are generous. In the matter of living or dying every human is on their own and always just see themselves. Even you would hesitate when it comes to sacrifice yourself for a stranger.

Striker stopped and you walked right into his back, and you snapped out of your deep thoughts.

You Apologized and asked striker, why he stopped so sudden. “You play all brave and mighty but here you are quivering in fear.” You didn’t even realize that you started to shake in fear.

Striker spun around and pulled out a rather beautiful knife, “Now listen little bitch. Either you’re going to do what I say, or we can do it in the more fun way.” His tongue ran across the silver, and he laughed in pleasure.

You knew this was a bad idea. “What do you want striker?”

Stand tall, stand tall Y/n.

“I want you stallion.” His hand went out to grab your hair throwing you onto the grass ground. Confused you looked around and saw the butterfly knife laying peacefully in the green. It must’ve fallen out of your hand as Striker forced you to the ground.

“You really thought you could break up with ME?!” His hand collides with your shoulder, and he pressed down hard.

You bit on your tongue to stop the groan of pain. The damage of the door breaking was still fresh and introduced itself.

“Oh, babe you messed with the wrong one.” His knife ran across your cheek drawing red. His tongue ran across the new wound.

Your hand searched for the weapon but it was too far away from you.

“Let me go Striker” It was like you’re talking to a wall; he pushes himself down on you. His erected member was pressed onto your thigh, and it was disgusting.

You really hoped that his dick wouldn’t be anywhere near you.You wanted to puke into his face right now.

“You’re so hot stallion. So pretty and perfect for me.” You spat in strikers face. Striker growled in anger, but you don’t regret it even a bit. And it only angered Striker even more.

“Fucking cunt!” He shouted out loud and you just smirked bitter. But when Striker started to smile you frown. What has he planned? His hand travelled down onto his belt, and you heard it buckle.

Oh no.

He laughed at you terrified face. Now he hit your nerve. Striker was about to pull his trouser down but got interrupted.

“That’s not how you treat a Lady, y’know.” Striker stopped as he heard another voice that wasn’t yours and you sigh in relief.

Striker closed his belt back and let you go. Your feet pushed you away to the next tree and your eyes travelled to Striker towards your savior.

He had a large smirk onto his pearl white face, he had a weird sense of fashion. A white cylinder with a small snake on it was on his head. He was kind of short for a Man.

His eyes were brownish but a scarlet red shine through them, it fits perfect on him. Beautiful Man, beautiful eyes. You could watch hours in those eyes, it was like they were telling their own story. How they flicker and shimmer when the sun hits the iris was so beautiful.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Striker hissed, a reminder that he was still very near you. “Lucifer, not so a pleasure to meet you.” His smirk widens as Striker tried to attack him.

Yep, tried.

Lucifer dodged him perfectly and kicked with his heel right in the back from Striker. Striker hissed in pain and rolled on the floor. “You better leave and never come back to her, or you’ll regret it.” Lucifer voice was filled with Venom as he looked down at Striker.

His eyes shrunk in a snake like eye, scary but sexy at the same time. With a whimper Striker ran far away from Lucifer.

Fucking pussy.

Lucifer sighs and turned around to you. His hand stretched out for you to take it and you gladly accept. “Thank you for saving me.” Your thanking warmed his heart, “No Problem, it was the least I could do.”

You felt save around the new stranger. Maybe it was again the wrong decision to just trust a random handsome guy but how can you not.

“Lucifer, right?” Lucifer nodded with his head. “The one and only, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lucifer bowed his hat firmly in his hands and you giggle at his antics. “And who are you darling?” He readjusted his hat and smiled as you Introduce yourself.

“I think we both could use some help and company in this mess.” Lucifers voice was almost like a warm sun breeze. Complete contrast than strikers. “It all happened out of nothing. First the zombies and then this.” You didn’t want to cry but at that moment you felt weak.

Your body betrayed you and you just cried in front of your new friend you could say.

_____

After a while you two found a cabin in the middle of nowhere. It seems to be a lost place, and no one lives in it. You and Lucifer planned to stay in the cabin for a while.

Life in the cabin was peaceful. Lucifer was the greatest room mate you could’ve Imagined. He was supportive and helped around the household. A man that women can only dream about.

Today Lucifer was out looking for any food he could find meanwhile you built up a fence.

When Lucifer came back you couldn’t help yourself better than to watch.

His shirt was draped over his shoulder and his god given abs and waist were showing. You gulped hard as you watch how the sweat pearls pearled down from his chest.

His body was more than just perfection, you almost felt jealous because of that waist of his. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He winked at you, and you only rolled your eyes which earns you a chuckle.

“You’re so mean kitty.” You huffed and gave him a side eye, “I’d stop if you wouldn’t be so annoying.” Your hand stretched out to get another nail. You hissed as the nail pierced through your fingertips. Lucifer laughed at your clumsiness. “This is already the fifth time kitty cat. Or should I say sleepy beauty.” You rolled your eyes at him. Your heart skipped a beat at his newfound nickname for you.

“Let’s get you patched up.”

A/n: FINALLY I CAN SHARE THIS. So, First thoughts?

💫

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei

If you want to be added please comment on the post I linked below under Taglist.

Taglist

#shapard #hazbin hotel #y/n #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #zombie apocalypse #zombie au #naughty lucifer #pervy Lucifer

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traveler-at-heart · 1 year ago

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Finding Home - Part 2

Summary: This is a series imagining what it was life for Natasha after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Warnings: Mentions of violence, PTSD, nightmares. Read Part 1 here. It was still dark. A quick glance at the clock on your nightstand told you it was indeed 2:30 am.

With a groan, you stood up from bed, walking into the living room, the penthouse pitch black.

“Jesus, Natasha!” you jumped as the lights revealed her sitting on the couch. Staring at the door. The redhead didn’t even flinch when you shouted. “Hey, is everything ok? Did you hear something?”

Now you felt bad for snapping at her like that. Surely, she had a good reason to be up.

“I don’t understand why they’re not here”

“Who?” you kneeled next to her, so you were eye level. With a pang of guilt, you noticed the bags under her eyes.

How long had this been going on?

“The KGB and Dreykov’s people. It’s only a matter of time. And when they come, I don’t… they can’t hurt you. I wouldn’t forgive myself”

“Nat” you said, squeezing her hand until she finally looked at you. Your hair was a mess, and your eyes struggled to focus on her face, but still, you pushed the words out.

“We are protecting you. SHIELD has eyes and ears everywhere. They won’t come for you, they won’t hurt you. Clint won’t let it happen, Fury won’t let it happen. And I certainly won’t let it happen”

There was a beat of silence, and then Natasha shook her head no.

“I’m not worth the risk”

“Yes you are. Clint thought so when he didn’t shoot that arrow. And I think so too. You’re worth it, and that’s not up for debate”

With a resigned sigh, you sat on the loveseat next to the couch and stared at the door.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“Well, if we��re taking turns watching the door, I’m next”

“Don’t be ridiculous, go to sleep”

The commanding tone made you smile. Slowly, but surely, Natasha had become more open and more herself in the way she interacted with others.

She wasn’t afraid to show she knew better than all of you.

“You go to sleep, Romanoff”

The redhead rolled her eyes, annnoyed at how amused you looked and then turned on the tv, browsing through channels, until she settled on a documentary about chimpanzees.

Fifteen minutes later, she was sleeping, gently snoring.

—

Back at the headquarters, Natasha was showing Maria and Fury some of the technical details of the widow bites she used.

You took the opportunity to pay a visit to Doctor Taylor.

“Agent” she greeted. “You know the rules, you gotta make an appointment”

“It won’t take long, Doc. It’s about Natasha” you scratched the back of your neck, feeling like you were snitching on her. “She’s not sleeping well. Keeps thinking the KGB is showing up any minute now to take her back”

“I would be surprised if she was able to sleep at all. I can prescribe something…”

“Yeah, she’s not gonna take it. Don’t ask me how, I just know it” you shrugged your shoulders. “This is more of a visit to ask for sugggestions. Is there any activity that might distract her?”

“Well, has she even been outside the Penthouse?” the woman asked, glancing at her notes, obviously aware of the answer to the question.

“No, unless we count this lovely government building” you looked down, feeling ashamed. Idiot. Keeping Natasha locked up, of course she’d feel agitated.

Doctor Taylor said your name, your attention snapping back to her.

“Natasha doesn’t know who she is; she dind’t have a childhood or a life. You could… give her choices. Help her figure out what she likes”

“Like her favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Sure, that’s simple. Start there”

“Alright” you straightened your stance, thinking about the day ahead. “Thanks, Doc”

“For what is worth” she said as you turned to open the door. “Natasha’s making progress. Slow but steady. And that’s thanks to you as well”

You nodded, smiling before leaving her office.

—

“It’s this way” Natasha pointed at a street, and you kept driving. “You missed the next exit”

“So now you know how to drive in New York City?” you said, ignoring her comments.

“Yes. I can drive motorcycles, cars, all kinds of helicopters…”

“Cool, congrats. You’re still not driving this car”

“Ass” she mumbled and you chuckled.

The drive was silent and as you found a place to park, Natasha looked around trying to find your destination.

“Ta-da” you sang and she turned back to you.

“Holey cream?” she read the sign above the door, in a very unamused tone.

“Build-your-own donut ice cream sandwich. Doesn’t that sound fun? There are tons of choices. Come on” you looped her arm with yours and practically dragged her inside.

You ordered first, hoping it would give Natasha enough time to decide what she wanted. However, as you got your donut, she was still staring at the ice cream flavors and toppings.

“Have you decided yet?” as she shook her head no, you offered your own donut. “Come on, try it. It’s homemade chocolate peanut better”

Rolling her eyes, she finally agreed and took a bite, modestly covering her mouth as she chewed.

“Too sweet. I think I’ll have the Java Guatemala”

“Holy holey” you muttered, thinking about the amount of caffeine she’d eat. “Strong flavor for a strong woman, am I right?”

“Is the sugar making you hyper?”

“Maybe” you opened the door for her, walking side by side as you took bites of your donuts.

You kept walking, glancing at the restaurants and shops littered on both sides of the street. As you read the menu of an Indian place, Natasha looked at the window of a clothing store.

“Oh, that leather jacket is beautiful” you admired, following her eyes. “Wanna go inside and try it on?”

“No”

“Come on” you ignored, pushing her.

The store clerk greeted you, while Natasha stood awkardly next to the jacket.

“Try it on” she rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. It looked perfect on her, but then again, Natasha managed to look stunning even on training clothes. “It suits you. Do you like it?”

“It’s fine” she shrugged her shoulders, the same way she did when you cooked something that she didn’t really like. As if what she thought wasn’t important.

“Natasha” you said and the woman looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and smiled, encouraging her to say what she really wanted.

“Yes, I like it a lot. But I don’t have any mo…”

“Miss? We’re taking this jacket”

Busy with paying the woman, you missed the way Natasha pulled the jacket close to her body, smiling as she saw her reflection in the mirror.

—

“Article 212, subsection B” Natasha asked.

It was a lovely day, so you were enyoing the sun on Central Park. She insisted on studying for her test, which was honestly overdoing it. Natasha memorized Shields rules in a week.

She was siting, the manual on her lap, while you were laying, your head close to her knees.

“Uh… something, something, paperwork” you answered, getting lost in the warm sun and the blanket where you and Natasha rested. “Are we still catching that movie later today?”

“Yes. And don’t change the subject” she gave you a small tap on the forehead and you frowned.

“Natasha, you memorized it weeks ago. And I already passed my test so…”

“I like it when I can hear you say it” Natasha interrupted you, her voice getting smaller. “I know all the words, yes. But hearing you say it makes it make sense. And I can also learn more about pronunciation. I still have my stupid accent”

“Ok” you nodded, sitting up to face her. You shook the leaves that got stuck in your hair and answered the question.

Natasha nodded when she was satisfied, flipping through the pages to continue.

“And for the record, your accent is not stupid. It’s cute” you said.

You were too busy looking away to hide your blush, so you missed how Natasha’s cheeks were red as well.

—

After that day in the park, you saved a time after dinner to read to Natasha. It was a way for her to improve what you already thought was a perfect English.

“A Scandal in Bohemia. Your very first Sherlock Holmes. Aren’t you excited?”

“Why that one?” she looked up at you. As usual, you were sitting at the end of the couch while she laid her head close to your lap, but never touching your knees.

“Because, you’re just like Irene Adler”

“Who?”

“Well, let me read and you’ll find out”

With every story about mystery, Natasha always commented on how the detectives approcahed the case. But this time, she remained quiet as you read the tale of Holmes and the only woman who outsmarted him.

Once you finished, you looked down to find Natasha sleeping, her usual frown replaced by a soft expression. The image of her head resting under her clasped hands brought you back to the words on the Red Room report.

The girls slept handcuffed to their beds so they wouldn’t escape.

If Dreykov wasn’t already dead, you’d gladly kill him yourself.

On impulse, your hand reached out to touch her own, while the other moved a strand of red hair out of her forehead.

What happened next was completely unexpected.

Natasha woke up instantly, throwing you from the couch and you landed on your front, out of air from the force of her movements. The woman climbed to your back and placed your neck in a headlock.

“Fuck, fuck, Nat, it’s ok. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I’m sorry. It’s me. You’re safe” you said, trying to control your breathing and keeping your voice even.

You could feel Natasha’s heart beating wildly, her breath ragged against your ear.

It wasn’t her and she wasn’t trying to hurt you, that’s all you could think about as she kept you in place, with just enough pressure to make sure you didn’t move.

Little by little, she began to calm down and all of the sudden, let you go.

You coughed and moved forward, allowing yourself to breathe and feel a tiny bit of panic at what could have happened.

Not to you, but to Natasha.

“I’m…” she looked at her shaking hands, tears welling up. Natasha got up and walked to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Nat. It’s ok. Natasha” you knocked several times, to no avail.

She stayed in her room for the rest of the night.

—

The following days were hell.

You went back to training alone. Natasha barely ate, let alone look at you whenever you had to go to SHIELD.

How could you have been so reckless? Of course she’d react that way, living her life in a perpetual state of fight or flight.

The silence took a toll on you. And worse, one day it made you snap.

During the drive to SHIELD, you asked Natasha if she was up for watching a movie at the cinema.

There was no answer, which was to be expected.

The hurt came after, when you caught her chatting with Clint as if everything was ok. Feeling as if someone had punched you in the gut, you looked away.

Maybe everything would be better if you left Natasha alone.

You walked up to them and dropped the keys to the car on the table.

“Here. Take the car”

“But, I thought…”

“I’m walking” was all you answered, turning around to leave the building.

You felt a combination of guilt and anger. You hated how you snapped at her, how your response to her trauma was to be vindictive and unreasonable.

But you also felt tired and way over your head. It wasn’t like you’d been an agent for that long.

Maybe someone more experienced would do better, like Barton.

You found a bar and stayed there for a couple of hours, drinking on an empty stomach. You came back when it was too cold to wander around the city.

The alcohol had hit you harder than you thought, because when you opened your eyes it was noon.

Natasha was long gone by then.

The sight of pancakes on the stove and a note with your name made you want to cry.

You didn’t even know what you were doing at SHIELD headquarters that morning, but still stepped out of the cab and into the building.

“Agent Y/N” Fury said as you walked down the hallway.

It was the last voice you wanted to hear, sporting a massive hangover and a guilt ridden heart.

“Director Fury” you turned around, trying to sound composed.

“There’s a mission”

Missions were at the bottom of your list right now.

“Ask Maria” you snapped.

You fucked up.

“I’m not asking”

“I can’t leave Natasha now”

“She’s joining the mission”

“I don’t think she’s ready” you panicked, imagining her getting hurt over your mistakes.

“It’s been three months. I have to know if she’s at least worth the groceries we’re buying for you in that fancy penthouse in the Upper East Side, Agent” the door behind your back opened. Fury looked at you one last time and then nodded. “That would be all”

As you turned around, Natasha’s eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry, I slept in. Thanks for the pancakes. I’ll go back to the penthouse… I don’t know why I came here today”

“Ok. I have to stay and go over some stuff” she explained and you nodded.

“See you later”

Back home (it wasn’t really home, was it?), you headed straight for the gym. Correction, bathroom, to throw up, still hungover and then to the gym.

Natasha joined you an hour later, waiting for you to finish punching out your frustrations against a boxing bag.

“I’m sorry” she said, after a particularly hard punch that made you grunt. “I understand if you asked Fury to leave”

“Leave… what?” you turned to her, confused. “And why are you saying you’re sorry?”

“You know why” she said, looking down.

“That wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, Natasha. I should have known better. I should have protected you. You should feel safe and I’m failing”

“You didn’t fail” she insisted. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I have. All my life, I’ve hurt and killed. But you know all that, you know it and you’re still not mad. Why aren’t you mad? Why don’t you think I’m a monster?” she said, looking anywhere but you.

“Did you have a choice?” you asked softly. She didn’t reply. “All I know is, the first time someone gave you a choice, you did the right thing”

“And I still hurt people”

“Yeah, our line of work isn’t really black and white, Natasha” you felt relieved when she finally looked at you, though her eyes were reddened. “If you had a choice now, what would you say? ”

“I think… I’d like to help people”

You smiled, not surprised by her answer. Of course she’d want to help. How you wished Natasha could see herself in the way you saw her.

“Good. Because Fury is eager to send us on a mission. Maybe this is a chance. You can save lives, do what’s right”

“I’d like that”

“You have a choice, know that. If you don’t feel ready, I will fight tooth and nail against Fury. Rip that eye patch if I have to”

Natasha smiled at that, and you could float with how relieved you felt. Maybe things could be better after all.

“I’ll start working on dinner” she offered after a beat of silence and you nodded.

Quietly, she exited the gym. The room felt empty again. And as much as you wanted to reach out to her, hold her hand or be closer, like you were before, you’d let her be.

Maybe one day, she’d meet you halfway

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n

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spooklies · 9 months ago

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# Resident Evil - Yandere Chris Redfield (PROFILE)

Type of Yandere: Chris is someone who cares a whole lot about those he loves while pretending that that side of him doesn’t exist. He’ll show he cares for you in every way but verbally at first, but in moments where you two are intimate he’s not against confessing just how much he loves everything about you. And Chris also happens to be overly stubborn once he’s set in his ways, and that in turn will make it difficult to try and reason with the man when he’s decided over something. Control, a position he’s been given since he could remember, and one he’ll hold over you whenever possible. Wearing something he doesn’t like? He’ll all but demand you take it off and change out of it. And if you refuse? Then he isn’t against using other means to get his way. He’s never physical, not unless you want him to be. He’s a man of discipline and understands the importance of boundaries. No, he’ll tap into a side of him that was trained to be a negotiator. Or in simpler terms, he’ll manipulate his darling when they do or say something he disapproves of. Sometimes he’ll even do this without realizing it. Chris has an overwhelmingly dominant air to him that calls for attention and he’s well aware of it.

Love Language: Chris can’t help but want to do everything for his darling, not wanting them to lift a single finger if it could be helped. He’ll treat you like royalty because in his eyes you deserve nothing but the best. He’s very big on touch and will often than not seek out your presence and find an excuse to put his hands on you. “Your shoulders look tense, allow me?” And without waiting for your permission will start massaging your shoulders with the skills of a certified masseuse. He’ll then playfully scold you for exerting yourself, explaining to you why it’s important to rest. “If you don’t keep taking care of yourself then I have no choice but to do it for you.”

Their Biggest Fear: Chris has seen a lot of shit, like shit people never come back from. But when he’s with his darling then it’s as if none of the traumatic events he’s experienced happened in the first place. He’ll often think to himself, “What’ll I ever do without you?” Because in his eyes a life without you isn’t one worth living. And that thought process alone is terrifying to Chris. He’s experienced what it’s like to lose people dear to him, but imagining his darling being the person he loses? Not a chance.

Kidnapping: If his darling ever tried to leave him then he’d definitely panic and jump to the worst conclusions about why you’d ever want to leave him. Those conclusions would then escalate into Chris convincing himself that someone is manipulating you and causing you to have these ‘intrusive’ thoughts. So what better way to keep his darling safe than to keep them at home – a sanctuary he’s created to be in your liking. He’s sure that with time his darling will come to understand why he needs to keep them home and the types of danger that lurks outside waiting to take them away from him.

How Easy is it to Escape?: Near impossible. Chris is an incredibly talented man with all the training a soldier could possibly need to bring an entire government to its knees. There will be locks on every door, safes containing possible escape tools, and even people Chris could rely on to have his back no matter the circumstances. Just hope that things don’t ever escalate that badly.

Punishments (SLIGHT NSFW BUT NOTHING GRAPHIC): “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” After one too many instances of his darling going against his direct orders – house rules, as he prefers to call them – he’ll see no other choice but to teach you the importance of listening to him through more intimate means. Your hands can sometimes end up cuffed to the bedpost, lovebites littering your skin as if you’d just been splashed with paint, and tears running down your face as you squirm and whine for his forgiveness through half-lidded eyes. “Oh I’ve already forgiven you, it’s about proving a point.” And he doesn’t stop until he’s done just that.

Difference to Other Yanderes: Despite how intimidating Chris can get, on the inside he’s a giant sap that often gets compared to a teddy bear more than the fierce grizzly bear the stuffed animal is based off of. He has a lot of powerful connections which also means he’ll be able to provide more than most partners. Ever been to the Grand Canyon? Sure, why not head there first thing Monday? And then right after that how about a trip to the Himalayas for the sake of going there? He’s so used to using these connections for the sake of humanity so it’s a nice change of pace to use them to prevent non-world ending threats from coming into fruition.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere resident evil #yandere resident evil x reader #yandere chris redfield #yandere chris redfield x reader

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crimeronan · 6 days ago

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Okay, catching up on your posts, about that snippet you posted with devins first kill- I think what's so haunting about it to me is how kind the old lady seems. Being genuinely helpful and willing to assist at first, having kind mannerisms and genuinely giving off the impression that she's really sweet. As the piece went on I started to believe when Devin said she wasn't in danger, because why would she be? She's a sweet old lady eager to help. And Devin, in turn, genuinely appreciates her kindness. She's lying a lot in the convo but her appreciation of her kindness towards her seems startling sincere. They're both being pleasant and nice- and Devin continues to be so even when the ruse is up, calm and collected and kind to her, not at all angry and vengeful like I would imagine. Its... unsettling. That this old woman was kind to her and it wasn't a ruse, it wasn't a lie, it was just genuine kindness. Even though, if I'm reading the implications right, she caused the deaths of countless children. This is not a monster; this is a kind old lady who's first instinct is to help, not to manipulate, but just to help. And yet she is also a monster. And Devin... she knows this. She knew this from the start. She is weighing the value of her life the whole time they speak, the whole time she's pleasant to her. And her appreciation for her kindness also isn't a lie; her thoughts make that clear. She considers calmly whether to let her go. She acknowledges that killing her serves no purpose; she's already retired, so she's no longer hurting anyone, there's no justice or honor in killing her. There's no reason to, except that it might make her feel better. And she's so calm when weighing it all. Weighing her life. She appreciated her kindness genuinely, she thought of letting her go, but... she killed her anyway. I'm new to your oc posts so sorry if I got anything wrong (am especially nervous on whether I got Devins pronouns right, but you refer to her as she, right? Sorry if I'm wrong about that), but that snippet was genuinely unsettling and haunting. Somehow... the most scary part of it was the kindness. The startling reminder that monsters are human, too—that they can be kind, and it not be a lie, kind to a stranger for no other reason except wanting to help. That's terrifying to me.

MMMMMM, YEAH. YEAH YEAH YEAH.

(and yes on devin's pronouns! devin uses she/they/he in order of preference. "he" isn't exactly Wrong, but as i've written her more, it's become more and more the kind of answer that's only correct on a technicality.)

the only correction i'd make is that maddie wasn't Directly responsible for countless child deaths..... she was, however, responsible for countless cases of child slavery. proponents of the system would argue it's not slavery, because the children are provided for and have their needs met and just have to work for the light temples until they die or get rich enough to buy out, with basically no legal recourse in cases of abuse. "how is that NOT slavery" because slavery sounds icky :( don't be mean it makes the government feel bad :(

in many ways, though, moira Was a child sacrifice. that's why maddie responds so strongly to her name. maddie truly can't remember every kid whose life she ruined, but moira was different!

one of the biggest driving forces and themes for me in this project is exactly what you said: that people can be both monsters and very kind at the same time. a lot of power fantasy vengeance media reduces its villains to two-dimensional strawmen that are disposable. they're easy to kill. the audience doesn't have any complicated feelings about their deaths.

and people just. aren't like that in real life. they can be selfish and cruel and manipulative, they can be abusive, they can commit atrocities, and at the end of the day, they still have things they love. i'm sure the united healthcare CEO loved and doted on his kids, which is why the media keeps calling him a "father of two" to try to stir up empathy. someone who loves his kids can't be bad, right?

or there's a throwaway bit in an episode of succession where some rich people are making jokes about the impending collapse of society, and a little girl asks about it, and one of them tells her, don't worry, you'll get to live in my bunker :) it's not your problem :)

(or something to that effect.)

maddie loves her grandkids. devin implies she's casually racist (and is probably right), but maddie is still sweet and kind to her. she's not a hateful woman! she loves birds and her rooftop garden and her family. she loves doing nice things for her neighborhood and making people happy. she'll go out of her way to help devin pull records to find a lost family member. she's probably already DONE that for the family or friends of other children she trafficked.

she doesn't see anything wrong with what she did. the government said it was okay, and she was keeping kids from dying impoverished on the streets! she was giving them another chance at life! "would you want that life for your grandkids??" is an irrelevant question, because she worked to save enough money for her grandkids so they'd never be in such a situation, so she doesn't have to think about it. she's kind! she's trusting! she's never even committed a crime!

"people are largely well-intentioned at heart" and "people can be unspeakably selfish and evil IF you promise them it's not selfish or evil" are two things that coexist, imo. it's something you have to get comfortable with if you do irl activism of any kind, too. particularly with any Undesirable marginalized group.

living in portland in america is very interesting sometimes. the people here consider themselves MUCH more politically leftist than the average american -- and indeed, they tend to oppose war, imperialism, racism, homophobia, and transphobia. at least when they're talking about their beliefs. people here are nicer than any other place i've ever visited in america!

they are also willing to unperson thousands of unhoused people and Fervently wish unimaginable cruelty, violence, brutality, and horror upon them. not only willing to WISH it, but also to Passionately Advocate For It in government meetings and in court. desiring this cruelty is socially acceptable & so the people who do so will never consider themselves monstrous. they will be hurt and sad and angry if you tell them it's monstrous.

maddie was a good mom and a good grandma. maddie bore no ill will toward the kids she sold. in fact, maddie's trustworthy demeanor and kindness might be why she was so successful at her job in the first place. because kids who were hurt and scared and alone were told she could rescue them, and they believed her.

monsters don't look like monsters. people have always been people. if we told the truth about what monstrosity is really like, we'd have to admit how many of our friends and neighbors and families and we ourselves are monstrous.

apathy is a political stance.

#replies #original fiction #original fiction meta #long post #the silt verses did really well with the horror of 'it's always just been people'#in a way that was impressive especially because so much of it is supernatural god horror #another piece of recent haunting media that's really forthright about this is 'the zone of interest'#BUT that is a holocaust movie with nazi protagonists. so please for the love of god be aware of that going in.#(which is to say. to my jewish partner reading this post. Maybe Don't Look It Up)#devin #was gonna say some stuff about nova and how she fits into this theme #despite how i make fun of her she actually is pretty leftist. by tachnin standards.#and it's not enough. It Is Not Enough.

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