#there's this one guy in a course I'm taking who was so on board defending him from me that hasn't mentioned him once in 2 weeks now

[nyan-bynary]

One good thing about Andrew tate (stay with me now this is the first and last time I'm saying something like this) is the fact that bc his fans dig themselves so deep in the hole that is defending him from any opinion, that one clip of him saying gender is a spectrum has helped me piss off more than one of his debate bro fanboys when they've tried arguing with me

#there's this one guy in a course I'm taking who was so on board defending him from me that hasn't mentioned him once in 2 weeks now #bc the last time he tried arguing with me I went 'you're right he DOES have good takes like what he said about gender that time' #and I could see him visibly hold himself back from punching a wall whiteboy style it was so good

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 6

Co-written with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction my beloved Fen, who I could not do this without. Thank you for being my emotional sounding board, my dear friend, my wonderful cowriter and helpful beta reader. I adore you.

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Santi takes Candy out, and Javier gets jealous, but still he defends them both. Drama erupts, and Santi finds something out about himself.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it. Covert/emotional incest in the past, Santi's mommy issues, m/m dynamics, internalized bi/homophobia

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and has hair. I've decided Candy is just latina bc she's a sex worker in Colombia so this is what I'm doing. Reader also has curly hair and dark skin.

ADDITIONAL WARNINGS!: Santi's panicy trauma response. Santi's mommy issues in full swing. Javier is jealous, lots of arguments. Cumming untouched, titty sucking. We're in for it boys!

THE SMUT WAS 100% WRITTEN BY THE AMAZING @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction i knew i needed mommy kink and he was the one to go to. If you like subby men, Fen, my dearest cowritter, writes great fics esp with Steven Grant <3 What Fen said when they wrote it "Yoooooo, what am I writing Romana? Madness? I think so."

6.7 words (I'm so fucking sorry okay A LOT WAS HAPPENING)

A/N Since I am apparently an incomprehensible writer, please know that the smut scene in the last chapter was not a threesome, it's Javi fingering Candy and Candy flashing back to her giving Santi a reach around handjob. I wanted to compare and contrast the way the two pairs care for and pleasure each other. but it came across as a threesome :(

Support writers! Reblog and comment!

***************

Santiago didn’t know why he was so nervous.

“What we need is to get out into the actual field!” Javier exclaimed, setting his mug down loud enough to make Santi jump. “Sorry, Garcia.” He muttered, wiping a bit of spilled coffee with his sleeve.

Santiago rolled his shoulders, reaching back to rub his spine over the scar. The surgery saved his life, but damn did it hurt. “S’alright. Listen, I had an idea, but I don’t know if it’s going to be anything. It does get us out of the office next week.”

“I’ll take it, what do you have, Pope.”

Santi smiled. “Well, the nickname is fitting. It’s a rally for the beatification of Laura Montoya.”

A smile quirked up on Javier’s grumpy face. Unbuckling his belt after a second round of stress donuts, Javi kicked his legs up on his desk. “Of course you would know that.”

“My tia invited me.” He shoved Javi’s boots off, then wiped his hands on his pants. “We know what his family looks like now, maybe they will be there? It’s something.”

Javier agreed, it was something. Tracking Lorea had not gone as well as Escabar had. Not that that was a flawless mission itself, but at least it had traction. Martin Lorea was far less public.

The pair settled into an easy rhythm of planning the event. Santiago would have to avoid his tia’s, he thought. That may be hard, considering he had 4 and several cousins who will likely be attending the event. Colombia doesn’t have a canonized saint yet, and she was recognized as venerable so her potential beautification was a big deal for Colombia. Still, he couldn’t be recognized at the rally, his family would want to talk and talk and talk and ask why he didn’t have girlfriend and talk and ask who Javier was, and Tia Lupe would ask him if he had a ‘modern arrangement’ with Javier which would make Santi sick to his stomach with anxiety and- fuck he felt like the donut he stole from Javi was coming back up.

“Gotta go, be right back.”

“I’ll be timing you.” Javier kicked his legs back up on his desk and closed his eyes.

Over the toilet, Santi dry heaved, unsure if he was really going to puke or just felt like it. What the hell was it with Javier these days that made him so anxious? Things had been going well, their friendship repaired in the months since Javier caught him and Candy together. Other than Frankie, who would always be his number one, Javi was his best friend. He’d die for him the way he’d have died for Will, Frank or Ben… but there was something more. Since the day they met, Santiago wanted nothing more than Javier’s approval, he strived for it… maybe it was that he saw Javi as a father figure, almost 15 years older than him… that wasn’t right either. He couldn’t place it until earlier this week.

The DEA ball was coming up, Javier had asked Santi if he wanted to carpool since they both didn’t have dates and lived near-by… to which Santi said he actually had a date. She was a surprise. So was the fact Javier wanted to go.

The “Oh” that had fallen out of his mouth though Santiago off. It sounded disappointed. Santi couldn’t stand Javier disappointed in him. That’s when the thought happened. ‘I wish we could just go together’ Not arrive together. Go together. As a couple. His first thought was no, that’s illegal. His second thought was no, he’d go to hell. His third was him mami, god rest her soul, would roll over in her grave.

He shook the thoughts away, but ever since then he began noticing the way he stared at Javi, the way his body buzzed with any incidental touch… He had to shove it down.

Certainly, Javier was open-minded, but he would to spend as much time as he did with him if he was gay, right? He wouldn’t incite Santi over for futball games on the tv, he wouldn’t take him with him to get lunch… he wouldn’t even want to work with him. It would all be over.

That’s what made Santi sick.

That, and the anxiety over who his secret date was.

*

You didn’t know why you were so goddamn nervous.

You had to admit, you were very surprised when Santiago showed up for his regularly scheduled appointment, flowers in hand, asking you to join him at the ball.

“Santi… sweetie… I don’t know…”

His large eyes looked nervous. “It’s a job! I’ll pay you, I’m not expecting anything free! And I I know what you’re gonna say, I don’t care about Javi freaking out. Imean, if you care I don’t wanna pressure you of course! I’m not trying to come between you guys, but I doubt he’ll even show. He hates these things.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about…” You take the flowers, thanking him genuinely, and walking to your kitchen. Santiago anxiously paced your walls, trailing his hands over your posters. “Sweetheart, I know we have a good time, but I am a prostitute, you know this.”

“I swear, I don’t have any notions about us being in love… I just want you there.”

Placing the flowers in the vase, you turn to look at him. “I just… well…” You hesitate, unsure how to not freak the poor kid out. “oh my god, there's no polite way to say this, but, Javier is far from the only DEA agent I’ve slept with. Hell, I slept with the janitor once.”

“Mario’s a cool guy, I don’t blame you.”

“What I’m saying is,” She sighed out her words. “You’re a sweet young man, and I know you’re a lot younger than most of the guys there. I don’t want to cause you any trouble-”

“Candy-”

“And I know I’ll cause you trouble if I’m there. They are going to make fun of you for bringing a hooker to a ball.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care. There’s no one else I want there with me but you, and I don’t care what Javier says, or any of them for that matter.”

You smile softly at the young man. He was earnest, but although you believed he didn’t care about the other guys at the precinct, you didn’t believe him for one second about Javi. Santiago worshiped the ground Javier walked on, it was clear by the way he talked about his partner.

“If you really don’t care, then yes, I’d love to go.”

His youthful face lit up. “Really?!”

“Yes” You giggle. “It sounds like a great night.”

Santiago ran to you, making you squeal as he threw you over his shoulder. “I’m gonna make you cum so many fucking times on my face, Candy, you don’t even know.”

You had to admit you were a little nervous. A lot nervous. He said he didn't think Javier would be there, but you weren’t sure, and hadn’t had a chance to try and prod him for information. You’d asked around, and Javi had been spending several nights with Gabby. This was not unusual, he was known to bounce around women, but he always came back to you. Today, though, it made you jealous as all hell. Santiago made you nervous too.

You wanted to at least make a good impression for him, so you went out and bought a brand new evening gown for the occasion, something classy, showing the curves but not your tits. Your big Farrah Faucet curls that usually accompanied a night with Lorea and his men were dialed down more to a simple look, your make-up more natural that a night on the town with high rollers would see. Still you were beautiful and you knew it. Just less like a hooker.

*

Javier didn’t know why he was so fucking nervous. He never went to these stupid things, much preferring to spend a night undressed with his cock buried between a pretty woman’s legs than stuff himself into a suit that had only gotten tighter in recent years. But, Pope was gonna be there, he was gonna be dressed up in some overdone suite, Javi just knew it. And his stupid curls would be slicked back and inevitably a few would pop out and he’d spend the night trying to keep them back but they would want to be wild and he’d eventually mess with his hair too much and it’d be all every-which-way and, and, and…

So maybe he was late. So maybe he was a little tipsy. Maybe he had been taking pulls of a flask in the back of a taxi but there was coke baggie and a cum stain on the seat so was it really the worst the car had seen? He pulled up to the dance in his too-tight suit, stumbling out a bit, and attempted to find his way inside. He didn’t really want to see Santi dancing with a girl, but if he didn’t show, Santi would worry, and Javi didn’t like Santi worrying.

Javier hoped she was nice. A nice girl because he was a nice young man. Someone to take care of him in some ways, to let him care for her in others… Javi knew he could take care of Sant. He had when he was sick, hadn’t he? Therein lied the reason Javi was drunk. The burn of the liquor was to press down the feeling he couldn’t ignore sober. He wanted Santiago.

“Buenas noche, amigos. ¿Has visto Santiago?”

Javi asked as he stumbled on a few men from the DEA chattering in a corner

One of the men, Freddy, chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, you haven't seen him yet?”

This caused all the men to laugh, but Javier didn’t get the joke. He got the feeling whatever it was, they were laughing at Santi. Javier knew Santi hadn’t really clicked with the men. He was too straight laced, too honest… too good.

“The fuck does that mean?” Javier asked with an obvious bit of bite. Santiago was his to protect.

“Young Garcia came here with a whore on his arm.” Another man, Josue, with a patchy mustache he should just call it quits on attempting to grow replies. “Wonder if he knows what she is, or if he’s going to wake up to a nasty bill in the morning.”

The group laughs, and Javier feels panic rising inside him. No. No way. Santiago couldn’t possibly be that stupid, could he? He was the smartest man Javier knew. He’d never risk her like this… 

Freddy continued when he saw Javi’s confused look. “Yeah, Pena, thats what I thought too!” He said with a laugh that Javier knew was not the good natured ribbing he gave Santi. “You know Candy?”

“Uh, yeah, sounds familiar.” The room was spinning, lights and smoke and colors starting to blur.

“The whore on 7th that lets you play rough? Yeah, her.”

Javier snapped to attention again. “What did you just say?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either!” He turns to another man Javier doesn’t have it in him to focus on. “I bet Virgin Maria thinks he’s in love.”

Grabbing him by the shoulder, Javier turned Freddy to him. “What the fuck did you say about Garcia?”

“Relaje, Pena. You call him Pope, different name, same meaning.”

But it wasn’t. Santi was Javi’s friend, Javier cared about him. Javier called him Pope to his face and if he thought it upset him, Javi wouldn’t do it. Freddy and the guys were calling him Virgin Maria behind his back, intending on being assholes. It was meant to hurt, it wasn’t true (Santi wasn’t a virgin even before Candy), it was meant to make a mockery of his good nature, his religion, and his morals. The effeminate name was meant to mock his slight build and stature as well as his passive nature. None of them knew the Santiago that Javier knew. They didn’t know the intelligent, compassionate, incredibly capable young former special opes agent who had saved his life multiple times and had given more break throughs on Lorea than he could could.

“Tell me again what you said about Candy.”

*

Despite the fact everyone was staring at them, you had never seen Santi so happy, so relaxed. He had a few drinks and for his small body it probably left him feeling warm and content. You had opted to stay mostly sober, only drinking one glass of white wine from the open bar; Santiago’s generous and soft smile to the bartender only endeared him to you more. 

He was so much fun like this. You loved the time you spent with him in bed, that was fun too, but you’d also come to genuinely enjoy the moments where he wasn’t making you orgasm on his lips again and again. You genuinely cared when you asked him about his day, and had made a mental note of all the names he mentioned at the precinct that were causing him problems that you recognized. You weren’t sure how without outting him, but you’d figure out some way to fuck with them. One who was a massive dick to him, Freddy, was also a massive dick to you too.

Santi was indulging in a cupcake, telling a story of his friend Benny hitting on a woman only to realize her husband was standing next to her.

“It took me, his brother Will, Fish and Redfly to break the fight up. He still won’t go in that neighborhood anymore!” Santi giggles, taking a bite of the vanilla.

You laugh along; he’s an entertaining story teller. “Did he learn his lesson?”

“No! No! That’s the best part!” Santi said as he waved his hands excitedly. “He immediately, and I mean as soon as we cleaned the blood off his face, went and hit on another girl! And you wanna know the worst part?”

“It worked?”

“It work- how did you know that?”

“Women are easy, Santi.” Swaying to the music, you set his cupcake down. He has frosting on his upper lip, just under where his mustache sat.. “We love our men bloodied.” You pull him in close, eyeing his upper lip for the frosting, but he looks like he’s going for a kiss, and who are you to deny such a handsome man?

“Even when they lose?” He speaks, voice soft and sultry. Santi’s eye flick to your lips, his own push pillows parting to receive you.

“Especially when they lose.” You close the gap, taking his lips in yours and licking your tongue over his sugar-covered upper lip, brushing over his mustache. Sweet, just like him. Your sweet man. 

For a moment, you are lost in him, the sounds of the Jim Croce floating in the air.

'Cause every time I tried to tell you

The words just came out wrong

So I'll have to say I love you in a song’

*

CRASH!

Immediately, at the sound of excitement, Santiago is in front of you, guarding your body with his. He doesn’t move, thinking clearly and assessing the situation; looking for where the danger is at and where the best exit points may be. Keep Candy safe. Keep Candy safe. His only goal was her, keep her away from any narcos, terrorists, freedom fighters or drunken men that might be causing a stir. When the center of the commotion was coming from the north, Santiago took Candy’s hand and began to take her to one of the south exits, a lesser used one with less potential for a second assailant, when he felt her tug away.

“JAVI!” She shouts, running towards the danger in high heels, rust colored skirt fluttering just as her flowy sleeves did.

“CANDY!” Running after her, he catches up with ease without the hindrance of heels. Santi tries to stop her, not wanting her near the drunken brawl, but she is on a single minded mission. Javier was under Freddy, who Santiago did not like, and getting the shit beat out of him. If he had a second more, if his focus wasn’t so on Candy, he would have beat her too it… but Candy was quicker

Santiago watches in surprise as she lifts her skirt, pulling a knife out of her garter, getting behind Freddy and gripping his hair hard, knife to his throat.

Everything was a deadly calm, everyone saying so, so still to not disturb the crazy woman with a knife. When Santi looked to Javier to check if he was okay, he saw Javi looking up at her with his big brown eyes, clearly fucking enamored.

“Freddy, get off of him before I tell everyone the weird shit you’re into.”

The next few minuets were a blur. As soon as Freddy was off Javier and Candy’s knife was off him, he was a big man again and the group began arguing. Santiago couldn’t quite pick up what it was about except “KEEP HIS NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!” From Javi.

They were all three escorted out by security; weapons weren’t allowed at the ball.

Outside the doors, a second argument erupted.

Candy tried to approach Javier. “Javi, baby, are you-” But as her hands reached for his swollen face, the older agent stepped back and turned his attention to his mentee. “Are you fucking stupid, Garcia?!”

Santi and Candy both are taken aback by this, but it’s Candy that speaks first. “Don’t talk to him like that!” 

Javier’s anger is turned back to her. “And you! You should know better than this! Than coming here!”

She rolls her eyes. “Javi. It’s literally a part of my job, I’m an escort.”

“FOR DRUG DEALERS!” Javier shouts, throwing his hands in the air and stumbling back. “Not for YOU!”

“So what, he’s too good for me to take out? Dirty whore like me belongs in dirty nightclubs and dirty crackhouses?”

“Oh for fucks sake THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT!”

Instinctively, Santi places himself slightly in front of Candy. “Tone it down, Pena.”

His icy glare turns condescending as a short, drunk, sardonic laugh escapes him. “HA! Do you think you’re in love, Santiago? Do you think you’ll be the magical man that can ‘save her’? That’s not how this works! You aren’t supposed to be bringing prostitutes to government functions, you absolute IDIOT! And you’re especially not supposed to bring HER!”

“ENOUGH!” Candy shouts at him, eyes flashing in anger. “You don’t get to tell him what he can and can’t do, Javi! And you certainly do not have possession over me! I am not yours! Just because we fuck does not mean you own me, and you don’t get to decide who I sleep with. Like you said, I am a prostitute, one of SEVERAL you frequent, so I wouldn’t be getting too high and mighty about being careful when everyone knows Helena nearly died working for you! I am not yours!”

Javier scoffs. “Oh, and he is? You think he’s your little lover boy, someone to play pretend that you are having a normal relationship with? He’s a scared child, he’s terrified of intimacy and thinks a finger in the ass will send him to hell!”

“Javier, fucking stop it right now.”

“He can’t protect you! He can’t take care of you!”

“Oh, and you can?”

“YES!”

Javier’s shouted words hung in the air, dripping with anger and venom. Santi simply watches, watches them like a scared child watching his parents fight, wishing it would just fucking stop, but it won’t. Not between them. Javier doesn’t back down and Candy isn’t scared of him.

Then, Candy starts to laugh. It’s short little laughs at first but grows louder. “Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME JAVI!” She laughs once more before shaking her head, tugging a bit at her hair as she walks a short circle. Candy shook her head, suddenly calm. “Thunder only happens when it’s raining, players only love you when they’re playing.”

Javi blinked, his voice now noticeably slurred. “What the actual fuck was that.”

Santi stepped up, sliding an arm around Candy’s waist. If she said what she wanted to say, he wanted to guide her away from Javier before he could be more hurtful to her. “It’s from Fleetwood Mac, Javi. You’d know that if you cared enough about her to look into her interests.”

Candy turned to him then, surprised, her soft eyes looking towards him; the hint of a smile on her face.

Javier, however, looked bewildered. “Her interests?You. Are not. DATING HER!”

“I still care about her!” Santiago defended himself. “Just because I’m not a sad slut who can’t emotionally attach to anyone anymore doesn’t mean I treat her like she’s not a person!”

Javier looked like he was about to speak, then shook his head. “This is fucking insane. This is not a Hollywood movie, there is no happy ending here, FUCK YOU GUYS and FUCK THE GODDAMN PRESINCT”

With that, Javier stormed off, angrily mumbling about one thing or another and his broad form shrunk down the street.

It was then Santi felt her begin to shake. Thinking quick, he took off his sports coat and wrapped it around her. “Hey, hey bebita,¿Estás bien?”

“Si” She shook her head a bit, then turned to him with an irritated look “He just really pisses me off sometimes, you know?”

Santi chuckled. “I know. He’s an asshole, let’s not worry about him, okay?” He wrapped his arms around her, and Candy allowed herself to sink into him. Santiago felt her relax, laying her head on him. He was angry, so fucking angry at Javier for the things he said to Candy, the way he spoke to her, it was hurting with jaw with how much he was clenching it… but it was clear Candy was upset too. His feelings didn’t matter, her’s did. He needed to be her man, be her strength, so he pushed his feelings aside.

Through the doors of the ballroom they could still here the live music playing, and he felt Candy gasp as The Eagle’s hit song, Peaceful Easy Feeling, began.

“I love this song…” She whispered, beginning to sway to the music. The stars were out, shining on her. It felt like they shined for her alone.

‘I like the way your sparkling earrings lay

Against your skin, it's so brown’

“I know.” Santi whispered against her skin. “I asked them to play it.” He sang the next line into her skin.

‘Y quiero dormir contigo en el desierto esta noche

Con mil millones de estrellas alrededor’

Candy took her head off him to look into his eyes. Fuck, she was pretty. So so pretty. He wanted her with him all the time, even though he knew it wasn’t possible. He wasn’t in love. Santi wasn’t sure he was capable of romantic love, honestly. He wasn’t sure he was capable of a love that was safe. But whatever he had with Candy right now it was good.

“You requested this song for me?”

‘'Cause I gotta peaceful easy feeling

And I know you won't let me down

'Cause I'm already standing

On the ground’

“Of course I did… wanted to make sure there was music you liked.” Santiago stroked her hair, careful to not mess it up, just enough to feel her. He began to dance with her in earnest.

“You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“And I found out a long time ago

What a woman can do to your soul

Ah, but she can't take you anyway

You don't already know how to go”

Santiago twirled her, making Candy giggle. 

“You listen to Fleetwood Mac?” She asked him through her laughs.

‘And I gotta peaceful easy feeling

And I know you won't let me down

'Cause I'm already standing

On the ground’

He shrugged. “I didn’t until I saw you had three albums, a Fleetwood Mac poster AND a Stevie Nicks poster.”

“So you… just decided to listen?”

“They're clearly important to you.”

He sings to her once again in Spanish

‘Tengo este presentimiento de que te conozco

Como amante y como amiga’

Candy whispers in his ear. “I enjoy our time together. I hope you know that. I do consider you a lover and a friend, Santiago.”

‘But this voice keeps whispering

In my other ear, tells me

I may never see you again’

Santiago believed her, but the ever-presant anxiety inside him told him this was temperary. Don’t feel safe, don’t feel comfortable. You are expendable. You are only loved as long as you are useful. You are only loved as long as you are perfect and good and right all the time. You can never mess up. If you do, WHEN you do, she’ll walk away just like Javi did. Still, he shakes these thoughts off and tries to focus on her. Focus on Candy. 

‘Porque tengo un sentimiento tranquilo y pacifico

Y se que decepcionarás

Porque ya estoy parado

En el suelo’

As the song ended, Santi dipped a giggling Candy down low, admiring the way the dress flowed over her beautiful body.

“Hey Candy, they aren’t gonna let us back in there, wanna hop some shitty bars?”

“I’d like nothing more, Santiago.”

*

Back at his apartment, Candy and Santi giggled their way into his bedroom. A slightly tipsy Santi flopped down on his bed, sighing out a declaration that this was the best night of his life. When he opens his eyes again, he sees you smiling at him. He thinks that he wants to see you in his home more often.

“You look really pretty in that dress, you know that?” Santi says with a love-sick smile plastered all over his face. 

You can’t help but smile back, unable to hamper the little laugh that lightens your chest. He was a bit more tipsy than you’d thought. 

He pouts a little, being overly dramatic on purpose as he leans up on his elbows, his left leg half hanging off the bed as you stand watching him. 

“Don’t laugh.” He pulls a face that has the opposite effect. 

You don’t give him the chance to retort again and poke his foot with your index finger, while you school your face into a mock disapproving scowl. “Shoes on in bed?” You tut, expecting another pout and tease back from him, a shrug and a chorus of ‘Well it’s my bed, I can do whatever I want.’ 

But instead, his eyes widened a little, a small dusting of light pink blossoming over his brown cheeks and nose and highlighting his faint freckles. “S-sorry.” He mumbles quickly, scrabbling up into a sitting position to undo his laces. He’s pulled off one shoe and dropped it carefully to the floor before you even have a chance to register what he’s doing. 

“Hey, hey,” you sit down next to him, your thigh touching his, and stroke your left hand through his curls. They’re a little stiffer than usual from the product he used for the occasion; it hasn’t stopped more than a few rough strands from breaking free though. 

Santi leans into your touch instantly, instinctively closing his eyes and sighing, a weight lifting from his ribs. You wouldn’t be surprised if he started purring. 

“You okay?” You whisper, continuing to run your fingers softly through his hair. 

He nods and hums an affirmative. 

You’re about to ask again, unable to stop yourself from double-checking his well-being. That seed of affection for Santi that first settled in your heart weeks ago has now grown and rooted into your chest, its vines and leaves twisted around your rib cage, seeking out your love like sunlight. 

Just as the words form on your tongue you notice the not-so-subtle bulge in his trousers and bite back a smile. 

Ah.

Not distress. Not panic. Nothing like that at all. Not right now, anyway.

Santi can’t see your expression with his eyes closed. He’s shifted closer, his temple gently against your shoulder as you stroke his hair. He sighs happily, almost dreamily. 

It’s nice to see him like this, relaxed into your touch. He too often seems anxious, worried, worrying about his military friends, worried about Javi, worried about his family although those details remain vague. He’s mentioned his sisters lives in the US, Atlanta she thought, his tia’s he saw so often here, and every now and then a brief mention of his mom but only in passing. You place a soft kiss on his forehead, leaving a faint lipstick stain on his skin and he presses closer to you, nuzzling into the nape of your neck. 

Languidly you run your free hand up his thigh, just tracing your fingers over his crotch before you squeeze. 

The sharp, low moan that escapes his lips is more than worth it, though the gasped word that tumbles out is a bit of a surprise. 

“Mommy,” 

He freezes instantly, his eyes going wide and teeth audibly snapping shut. In less than a second he’s racking his brain, trying to work out how, why, where did that word come from? What deep, dark recess of his mind forced that word to the surface? Something was wrong with him. Something fundamentally wrong with him, deep down in the recesses of his brain. He was fucked up. He was going to hell.

Maybe you hadn’t heard it. Maybe you wouldn’t notice it. But already Santi knew those hopes were a lost cause. The way your hand had tightened momentarily in his hair the second it slipped past his tongue. He’d had a drink, a few drinks- although they’d mostly worn off throughout the night- that was a good enough excuse right? Oh god. What must you think? What would you-

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you?” Your voice was low and sweet, a caress to his very soul and he shivered in spite of himself, moaning again and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroked his painfully hard cock. 

He nodded his head rapidly, not wanting to disappoint you. He’d be good, he’d be so fucking good for you. His breath hot on your neck as he pressed closer, angling his body completely towards you with a soft whimper. 

You continued stroking him for a moment longer, pressing the heel of your palm firmly against his thick base before you unzipped his fly and flicked open his trouser buttons. You always loved this, loved how needy he got, how desperate for you.

Santi groaned loudly, his lips against your neck, half muffling his words against your skin as he squirmed into your touch. 

“Hmm?” You halted your actions teasingly, waiting for him to repeat himself. 

The small sob and bob of his throat nearly broke your resolve, but he pulled his face away from you a fraction to speak. 

“Mommy, please,” he whispered. 

You couldn’t help yourself, it wasn’t like it was the first man to call you ‘mommy’ in bed, but there was something about sweet, innocent Santi who had blushed his way through your first encounter not that long ago speaking that world that set your blood ablaze. 

“Please what?” You teased. 

He squirmed again, bucking helplessly against your hand. “Please?”

“You’re gonna have to use a few more words than that pretty boy, or I won’t be able to help you.”

Santi let out an anguished sigh, pressing his face into your neck once more.

Quickly, you moved your hand away from his weeping cock and firmly pinched his chin between your fingers, pulling him back ever so slightly so that you could look into his dark brown eyes as you title his face up. 

“If you don’t speak, Mommy won’t be able to help you.” 

Santi audibly moaned, his eyes rolling back for a split second before he shut them tight. His dick twitched uncontrollably. 

“Yes, please, sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be a good boy.” His words were all rushed together and there was a hazy look to his gaze when he opened his eyes again, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

You petted his hair gently. “I know you will be, Mommy’s got you, sweetheart.”

He whimpered, rubbing his thighs together with every word. 

“Now, tell me what you want.” 

“Can I,” he swallowed again, placing his hand on the zip of your dress, “can I undo this?” 

That wasn’t what you expected him to say, and you raised an eyebrow at him lazily as you smiled and nodded. 

Santi let out a little nervous breath before hastily undoing the dress and carefully slipping it off your shoulders and down to your waist. You weren’t wearing a bra.

He held his breath as he gazed at your chest, his left hand hovering just above your skin as he stared with reverence. As if he hadn’t seen you semi-naked many, many times before. 

You stroked his hair again. “You’re such a good buy, aren’t you? Asking for what you need?” You say softly, just to gently break him out of his trance. You did enjoy teasing him, but never for very long. He always listened, always did as he was told, and you were happy to reward him

He nods quickly, never taking his eyes off your breasts. The tip of his tongue pokes out and wets his bottom lip. 

Ever so slowly he leans forward, placing a light, sweet kiss to your lips, the corner of your mouth, your cheek, before trailing down to your neck and collarbone. His kisses get messier, wetter, more urgent the further down he goes and you don’t expect him to pause, panting against your skin. 

He looks up at you with large eyes that send a shudder of heat through your core. “Can I kiss your breasts… mommy?” He adds the name shyly, looking down momentarily so that his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. 

You keep stroking his hair as you nod, hooking your fingers around the nape of his neck and guiding him towards your chest. He takes the small movement and runs with it instantly, surging forward and covering your breasts in desperate, wet kisses. Switching back and forth between them constantly as if he simply had to lavish each with the exact same amount of attention. He moans as he lightly bites and sucks, his hands digging into your skin as he holds onto you for dear life. 

You press him closer, urging him on by digging your fingers into his curls and scratching your nails along his scalp. He rewards you with another muffled groan, the vibrations reverberating along your skin and sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. 

Santi pushes closer, the force nearly knocking you onto your back as he latches onto your left nipple. You brace your right hand on the bed behind you so that you can keep your balance. 

“Such a good boy Santi.” You whisper and he whines, looking up at you once with lazy, lust-blown eyes as he keeps his mouth against you. He sucks demandingly, the sensation almost bordering on too much, but still somehow not enough, and swirls his tongue around your nipple before lapping at it and starting the process all over again. His hips are bucking desperately, but he doesn’t dare ask for attention. He knows you’ll take care of him. You always will.

He sighs, shifting, simultaneously trying to get something and not knowing what he wants at the same time. 

You know what he needs though. 

You coo at him, soothing and sweet as you pull in closer into your arms, cradling his head as you gently ease him into your lap. He moans so loudly, the sound quickly becoming a whine in his throat as you embrace him.

For a few seconds, he seems to relax into you, all the stress of the day and previous weeks and months draining from his soul and bones as he gently sucks. But then he starts to squirm, his thighs shaking and stomach muscles tensing. He pulls his mouth off of you with a pop and low, desperate groan. His eyes shut tight and eyebrows knitted together as he whines and presses his forehead against your skin.

“Gonna cum.” At the very back of his mind he has a sense that he should be embarrassed, embarrassed that he’s this far gone and going to cum practically untouched. But he can’t fight the pleasure as it bubbles up his spine, doesn’t want to. 

“You can cum Santi,” you whisper in his ear. “You’re such a good boy, cum for Mommy.” 

He shakes his head, unsure why, tears at the very corners of his eyes, “please.”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, holding him tight and kissing his temple. “I’m here.” 

He moans loudly, latching back onto your breast and sucking for all he’s worth.

“Mommy’s here.” 

He groans again, pulling away a fraction to get his words out. His voice is breath and high. “Want Mommy to cum.” 

The pleading in his voice spikes at the throbbing arousal in your core. “Santi, it’s okay-”

His whine is muffled against your chest as he reaches down, sliding his hands between your legs to caress your body the way he knows you like. You’d taught him exactly how you want to be touched, exactly how you touch yourself. He was an eager learner.

“Santi,” you manage to breathe out through his messy desperate kisses. 

“Mommy needs to cum now please,” he murmurs, his speech slurred against your tongue, 

Your breath catches, thighs squirming as he strokes you, the movements soft but sure. It only takes an embarrassingly short time before you’re moaning into his mouth and tensing as your release overtakes you in a rush. 

When it’s clear you’ve cum, he tenses, his orgasm following through him and bursting behind his eyes. His cock throbs as he empties himself into his pants. You smile softly at his face as his forehead pinches in bliss, your hand still stroking his hair. 

There’s a pause, a small moment of quiet just before he sighs deeply, feeling weak and boneless. And then he looks up at you with his dark, dark eyes. The softness, the relief, the adoration… the sleepiness. 

“So good, Santiago… you’re so good. My perfect boy…”

Santi sighs against your skin, relishing in the tender moment as you play with his hair. “Was that weird?” He mumbles into your skin.

“Noooo, no not at all. It’s very common, actually.”

He looks up at you through heavy lids and suspicious eyes. “Really?”

“Oooooh yeah.” You chuckle. “More often than you think. I’m not here to judge anyone.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he seems to relax. “Okay. Yeah. Okay.”

You opt to not talk about it anymore, at least for the time being. He’s so tired right now, coming hard and untouched, and you decide it’s time to put him to bed. By the time you lay him from your lap to his pillow, he’s half asleep, so you opt with minimal dress. Gentle, you unbutton his shirt and slowly, carefully slide his shirt off. When you take off his trousers and underwear fully, you replace them with sweats. You think he’s asleep, breathing slowly and eyes closed. He looks positively angelic. When your getting ready to zip up your dress again, and make your exit, you hear his voice once more.

“Stay the night?”

You sigh. “Santi, I dunno if that’s a good idea…”

His eyes open slightly, just enough so you can see him. “Please, I’ll pay you whatever you want, I just don’t want tonight to end…”

He looks so vulnerable in this moment… and you don’t want this night to end either. Rules be damned. Santi was different. Santi was better. Santi was good. And you?  You deserved some damn good.

“Don’t pay me, I’ll stay.”

Santiago sits up ever so slightly. “No, no Candy this is your job. I don’t expect free-”

“It’s not free, honey.” You begin to strip down, Santi’s sleepy eyes drifting down your naked body, staring at the knife at your garter. “We’re going to sleep, just like I would at home. And tomorrow, you’ll make me breakfast. Sound like a fair trade?” The truth was, sleeping with Santi, actually sleeping with Santi, sounded wonderful. You didn’t want it to feel like a transaction. 

So, you slip into his clothes. You wear a tee shirt and sweats and climb into his bed where you think he’s actually asleep this time. He snores lightly. He sleeps on his stomach, so you rub his back. He feels nice. 

You want better for him. You want him to have a stable life, a loving wife who wasn’t a whore, kids if he wanted them, his family and friends surrounding him. He should have to live in danger, work a dangerous job. He should be allowed to be happy. It wasn’t a life you could give him, you knew… but you could imagine.

You kiss the scar on his spine.

******************

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for reading!!!!

If you're still hear, please drop a lil HI! It's 12 pm here, inching towards 1 but i promised to put this out so i will!!!

Everyone PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLOUSE FOR FEN FOR THE SMUT IN THE COMMENTS AND REBLOGS SO I CAN MAKE SURE THEY SEE ALL THE LOVE

I hope everyone is saying as safe as they can be in these temps, my heart goes out to all those struggling but especially those in war zones, poverty, homelessness, or in areas that were previously never this cold and thus unprepared for a harsh winter. I know us northerners joke about how cold we get, but I know its different when your infrastructure isnt equipped to take this on.

So tell me friends

Did Javier have a reason to be mad at Santi?

Or was he overreacting?

TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE ARGUEMENT AND YOUR THOTS ON OUR DEAR SANTI

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolb @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleiite @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @kirsteng42 @mrsjavierp @nanfafnan @lovable-liar @axshadows @cookielovesbook-akie @reallyrallyauthor @solar-fics @criticalarchitecture

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #triple frontier #santiago garcia #santiago garcia reader #fem reader #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia smut #santiago pope garcia #javier peña smut #narcos #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #romana writes #romana writes smut #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #triple frontier smut #pedro pascal smut #latina reader #santiago garcia x javier pena #javier pena x santiago garcia #latina!reader #m/m fanfic

[ghoulsister1]

🖤Being In A Relationship With Captain Kuro Headcanon: SFW🖤

Is a gentleman. Opens doors for you, pulls out your chair for you and seats you when dining in restaurants. Treats you like a proper lady.

He is very organised man. Expect him to remember important dates such as your birthday, anniversaries and date nights. He plans ahead and makes sure everything is perfect.

His love language inculdes giving you gifts. That necklace you were eyeing up? It's the first gift you receive from him on your birthday. Those gorgeous shoes you wanted but couldn't afford? Kuro has them custom ordered and sent straight to you for your two's anniversary.

Sweet endearing pet names. "Kitten", "Little Flower", "Sweetpea" and "Petal" are some of the pet names he calls you.

Takes out on picnics on top of a little hill, usually with a view of the sea so you both can admire the sight of the Bezan Black, sitting proudly in the waters of your private port. Packs a delicious picnic meal by the way. I'm talking a bottle of wine, a board with a variety of cheese to snack on, picnic cooked chicken, a plastic container with a mix of fruit such as blueberries, strawberries, grapes and apple slices.

"To us, my kitten" Kuro would toast and you'd both clink your champagne glasses together in cheers. "And to many more happy years together" You Would Add and you both would share a smile.

Fine dining at the best restaurants. A dinner for the two of you at the Baratie, candlelight and the best delicious food served to you. (Curtsy of Sanji, the best cook in the Baratie!)

At home, Kuro happily cooks for you. Sometimes you help him out and cook together. Kuro adores moments where you two cook together, you helping chop the veg while Kuro watches, making sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself with the knife and praises you for how well you chop up the veg and for your help.

Date nights including going out to dinner, a night at the theatre, watching a movie at the cinema. One time you guys just set up a spot outside and watched the stars together.

Quiet nights in inculde binge watching your favourite shows, movie nights or sometimes curling up together with books and read together, maybe have some podcast playing or some chill music in the background.

One night Kuro and you just spent an entire night just drinking some wine, indulging in deep conversations and eventually Kuro played some records and you two slow danced together in the middle of the drawing room, completely lost in each other's embrace and ending the night with a deep and passionate kiss.

Kuro will totally get jealous if another looks at you. He knows you ignore their advances and don't indulge in their games. However should one or two continue to harass, Kuro will dispose of them of course, in his own way. Nobody touches or takes what is his.

Same if anybody dares disrespect you. Kuro will defend your honour and isn't afraid to get his hands dirty....or his claws bloody.

"Nobody disrespects my kitten!" Are Kuro's word as he slashes at the offender, making sure people are watching so they know to never make the same mistake, should they end up on the other end of Kuro's claws.

To other pirates and Marines, Captain Kuro is a ruthless pirate captain that is feared by all who know him. But to you, you are his most precious treasure and he loves you very much. Kuro is a purrfect gentleman to his beloved sweetheart.

#kuro one piece #one piece netflix #captain kuro #kuro x reader one piece #kuro one piece Netflix #headcanon #my headcanons #relationship #sfw #sfw headcanons #black cat pirates

[simpforchuchu]

Can i request Yuken with a tomboy!s/o? (maybe the reader getting into a fight, or just them hanging out with the guys)

Yuken x tomboy!reader | Hcs

a/n: Hii! I hope you like it :')♥️

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: some fights

• I think Yuken likes strong and smart girls

•  That's why it's impressive to him that his girlfriend can fight or defend herself.

•  He met you by coincidence

•  He was quite surprised to see you beat up two older boys while walking down the street.

•  He knew there were girls who could fight, of course, but he was intrigued by your overconfidence and fearless fighting.

•  He'll probably clap when you're done and get your attention.

•  When you turn to him you will see him smiling big

•  Do not think that your first meeting was in a friendly way.

•  You'll attack him too because you think he's one of these punks too, but because he's stronger than you, he'll stop you and explain himself before you both get hurt.

•  He had a big smile on his face as he said goodbye.

•  At first you will start as friends and he will introduce you to the people in House

•  Even though you didn't get along well with Shidaken, Sawamura and Jinkawa loved you very much.

•  Sachio is always very nice to you too

•  I think over time you will spend more time with them all and participate in the board games they play.

•  I'm sure you attract attention with your masculine attitude and style.

•  That's why it was inevitable that Yuken would fall in love.

•  He will be sure of his feelings when you laugh and say something or when you have a fight with someone from House and he can't take his eyes off you.

•  Of course, others are aware of everything.

•  Considering how reckless and cocky Yuken is, it's going to be pretty hard for him to admit it.

•  Sachio is sure you feel the same too while everyone else was talking about Yuken's feelings.  So he just watches everything with a smile

•  Yuken, on the other hand, is a little scared.  He thinks you see him as a friend and he is afraid to shake your trust

•  After talking to Sachio, he collect his courage and open up to you.

•  "Aren't you going to say something y/n-chan?"

•  More silence

•  "Sorry... Im really sorry, please don't hate me!"

•  poor boy

•  I don't think your harsh attitude towards others wont be the same towards him.

•  At least after realizing your own feelings

•  He'll be quite surprised when you smile and put your hand on his cheek

•  "I like you too, Yuken"

•  Everything is sweeter when you're in a relationship

•  Your styles are similar

•  He'll let you steal his clothes and even likes to make you wear his shirts

•  Helps you tie or style your short hair

•  And of course you definitely have couple glasses...

#high and low #high&low #high and low fic #hnl #high and low the worst #high and low the worst x #housen #yuken odajima x reader #yuken odajima #odajima yuken #yuken fic #yuken x reader

[ne0nic]

Be The Reason

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Vash x f!Reader ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

MDNI

ִ ࣪𖤐 Word Count: 31.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 CW: NSFW, Sex, Self Harm, Guns, Knives, Blood & Gore, Angst, Hurt with Not Alot of Comfort, BountyHunter!Reader, Siblings Relationship with Wolfwood & Livio, Blind Loyalty to Millions Knives, Wolfwood Escaped the Church, Slight Trauma Bonding, Loosely Follows the Plot of Trigun Stampede, '98 Trigun Elements if You Squint

ִ ࣪𖤐 No use of Y/N, Never use of Y/N

ִ ࣪𖤐 Just a Snippet, Too Long For Tumblr

"This is an order from Knives."

"Of course it is," you drone, looking over the wanted poster. After years of being Knives' loyal soldier, he's finally tasked you with playing in the big leagues—the Humanoid Typhoon. It's the most sought-after bounty on the board, and now it's your sole target. You haven't failed Knives yet, and you sure as hell won't start now.

Finding this guy, Vash the Stampede, an awful code name by any standard, is already next to impossible. Bounty hunters have thrown heaps of cash for even a hint of his whereabouts for years, with nothing to show for it. You're not interested in the lies or wasting imaginary money. But maybe, just maybe, you know better than them.

The next time a call comes in, and some eager kid rushes into the bar spouting nonsense about spotting the Humanoid Typhoon, the hunters are instantly in a frenzy. They swarm to their trucks and speed off into the desert without a second thought. However, you don't follow their lead. In fact, you turn in the opposite direction.

He is aware that he's been hunted for a long time, and he's probably accustomed to diverting the crowd away from wherever he's hiding. Plus, he likely has a few friends willing to provide cover for him. You'll need to outsmart them all to catch your elusive prey.

Honestly, it takes a bit longer than you'd hoped, but the payoff is worth it. In a small bar, nestled in an unassuming town, the man with the biggest bounty No Man's Land has ever seen sits, savoring his drinks like there's no tomorrow. You observe from the shadows atop the stairs as he shares hearty laughs and engages in charming banter with the locals. His smile is wide and inviting, just like the one on his wanted poster. It's a bit strange coming from a guy accused of the things he has done, but, to your disappointment, it's evident that everyone here is armed and more than willing to defend him from you.

So, patience becomes your ally. It's frustrating, but he's within your grasp, practically in the palm of your hand. All that remains is to seize the moment. You quietly step back, plotting your move.

Down below, Wolfwood's gaze widens as he catches a glimpse of a shadow retreating from the railing above. There's something eerily familiar about it, but it can't be...

"Hey, everything okay?" Vash inquires, noticing the alarmed look on his face. Wolfwood lowers his eyes and takes a drag from his cigarette before flicking the ashes away.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responds nonchalantly, though it hardly convinces Vash.

The two eventually depart from the bar late into the night, leaving behind patrons who have fallen asleep where they sat. Eager not to end up like them, they make their way toward tonight's lodgings.

And, naturally, you are there too, shrouded in darkness, silently tailing the pair. Vash sways slightly from side to side, a bit too entranced by the alcohol.

Wolfwood abruptly stops, causing you to retreat into the shadows. "What's up?" Vash asks, puzzled, as he turns toward his companion.

"I forgot something. You go on ahead," Wolfwood says abruptly, before disappearing down an alley without further explanation.

"Alright," Vash mumbles and continues down the street.

In just a matter of minutes, you have Vash pinned against an alley wall. With one hand securing the back of his neck and keeping him at bay, you deftly fasten the cuffs around his wrists. "Hey, can we maybe start with introductions? What's your name?"

"Make a sound, and I'll dislocate your arm," you warn, emphasizing your point by gripping where skin and metal meet. Vash winces.

"Okay! Okay! I get it," he says quickly. You slide his gun from its holster.

"Hey, hey, hey! That's important! Could you not touch that?" he pleads.

"Shut up," you snap, stowing the gun in the back of your pants.

The sudden hum and activation of a weapon cause you to freeze. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Wolfwood, his grip firm on the Punisher, but his eyes betraying hesitation. This isn't exactly the time or place you'd planned for a reunion, but you knew he wouldn't be far. Your training has made you acutely aware of each other's presence.

"You're alive," he murmurs, astonishment in his voice. "And you're working for Knives?"

"Stay out of my way," you instruct firmly.

"You don't have to work for those bastards! You can—" Your knife pierces through his stomach. Wolfwood meets your gaze with wide eyes. Evidently, your speed has caught him off guard. It's almost amusing to see him realize you're not the naive kid you once were.

"I can do what?" you ask, drawing your knife back, making him lurch before collapsing onto the sand. "Run away like you did? I chose this, Nico," you remind him in a hushed yet resolute voice.

"Wolfwood?!" Vash cries out in alarm.

"Move it," you snap, sheathing your dagger. You grab Vash by the coat and forcibly drag him away.

"Wait! Wait! He'll die!" Vash protests desperately.

"If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead," you say coldly, showing no remorse for your actions. At the edge of town, you throw Vash into your car. He flops onto the seat and looks up at you with wide, bewildered eyes.

"How could you do that to him?" Vash asks, his voice filled with disbelief and concern.

Without acknowledging him, you slam the car door shut and speed away from the small town, venturing out into the vast desert ahead.

"Are you… like Wolfwood?" Vash continues, trying to make sense of your actions. You remain silent, your elbow resting on the door as you lean your head against your fist.

"Just be quiet," you mutter.

"You care about him, don't you?" Vash persists, undeterred by your lack of response. His curiosity seems insatiable. Frustrated, you lean forward and grab a half-eaten donut from a pastry bag on the dashboard. Without a word, you stuff it into Vash's mouth. He's momentarily surprised but can't resist the sweetness. A brief moment of silence follows until he finishes his bite.

"Those marks on your wrist, what are they from?" Vash inquires, determined to extract some information from you. His persistence is starting to get on your nerves.

"Enough," You snap, finally putting a stop to Vash's incessant questions. He closes his mouth, clearly surprised by your outburst. "He warned me you were talkative," you mutter, annoyed.

"Just tell me one thing. Why do you work for him?" Vash presses, determination in his eyes.

You shift your jaw, contemplating whether to answer. After a moment, you decide to offer a glimpse of the truth. "For the thrill and the cash."

"And you're from the orphanage?" Vash inquires further.

"Hell no. I was… a volunteer," you admit with a bitter tone.

"What?" Vash's heart aches as he hears your confession. After Wolfwood explained everything he went through, Vash can't fathom someone willingly subjecting themselves to such a fate.

"I became what I wanted to be, and now I'm Knives' favorite," you continue, bitterness still present in your voice. "Nico hated me when we were younger. He lost his mind when he realized I let it happen. But none of that matters. Once I drop you off to Knives, I'll be on my way with my money." Vash's gaze returns to your wrist with a new understanding.

"So then those marks—" he starts to ask, his voice filled with concern.

"I wasn't always Knives' favorite," you mumble, and Vash looks at your face, a deep sense of guilt washing over him. His brother hurt you, left scars on your body. If he hadn't… If they hadn't…

The weight of your words sinks in, leaving a heavy silence in the car as the desert stretches endlessly around you.

The car jerks violently, throwing both you and Vash around as it spins through the sand. You desperately try to keep it steady, but the sandy terrain has other plans. Finally, the car comes to a halt, thankfully without tipping over. As it settles, you shoot an annoyed glare at Vash, who has ended up leaning on you during the chaos. You push him off, not in the mood for any of this. "Get the hell off me."

"Sorry! Sorry!" Vash stammers, scrambling away from you. You quickly scan the rearview mirror as the dust begins to settle, revealing a figure standing on the dune behind you, holding a large cross-shaped weapon.

"Bastard!" You hiss, flinging open the car door, ready to confront the threat.

"Wait! Don't just leave me-" Vash pleads, but you slam the door shut behind you. Your hand darts to the back of your pants, retrieving the gun as you zero in on the figure. With a quick, practiced motion, you cock the hammer back and pull the trigger.

Click.

Is this a joke?! Why the hell was this idiot carrying an unloaded gun? Your irritation is interrupted by searing pain that shoots through your arm, forcing you to drop the useless weapon. You groan in agony as your arm falls to your side.

Shit!

Pressing your back against the car, you fight through the pain, knowing Wolfwood is closing in. You might have to kill him, even though Knives hadn't ordered it. But right now, you need to come to terms with the fact—

"Hey! Are you alright?! Let me see!" Vash suddenly pops up in front of you, the handcuffs only around his flesh wrist clinking. He reaches out toward your injured arm.

"What the hell? Get away from me!" you snap, making Vash flinch back.

"I just wanna help," Vash insists.

"Don't worry. She'll heal in a moment," Wolfwood's voice cuts through the tension as he stands at the tail end of the car.

"Bastard! I'll damn well kill you!" You screech, as you attempt to get to your feet, the pain ebbing as your arm begins to heal. Steam rises from your skin, and you can't help but wince in agony.

Vash takes a step forward, a desperate desire to help you coursing through him, but Wolfwood's firm hand presses against his chest, holding him back. Vash glances at him, and Wolfwood doesn't meet his gaze. After your pain subsides and you regain your composure, Wolfwood scrutinizes you from head to toe.

"Hurts like a bitch, don't it?" he asks in a gruff tone.

"Fuck you," you spit out venomously, leaning against the car to regain your footing. "Why the hell are you protecting him?! He's worth billions!"

"Why the hell are you working for Knives?! After what he did to us?!" Wolfwood fires back, frustration evident in his voice.

"Us?" You repeat with a scoff, fully standing from the car, which prompts Wolfwood to position himself closer to Vash. You narrow your gaze at his actions. "There is no us. You made that very clear."

"Just because I didn't agree with your insanity doesn't mean I don't-"

"Care about me?!" You finish his sentence, your tone dripping with cynicism. "That's cheap coming from you."

"I'm trying to help you, dammit!" Wolfwood yells, exasperation etched across his face.

"I don't need your help," you retort, pulling your dagger out of its sheath. "I need you to stay down."

"If that's the way you wanna settle this," Wolfwood concedes, dropping the Punisher weapon into the sand.

"You're not actually gonna fight her, are you?!" Vash pleads.

"It's what she wants," Wolfwood mutters, tossing his cigarette to the ground and smothering it.

"Come on, you two grew up together! This is crazy! We can just talk things out!" Vash insists, hoping to find a peaceful resolution.

"Stay out of this, Needle Noggin," Wolfwood sighs, cracking his knuckles. "This has been a long time coming."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Stop! Hold it! Hold on!" Vash steps between both of you, trying to be the voice of reason. He turns to Wolfwood. "I won't let you-" But before he can finish his plea, your foot hooks around his waist, and you throw him aside. Vash tumbles into the sand, watching the ensuing brawl unfold.

You and Wolfwood go at it fiercely, fists swinging, and landing hard smacks on each other. He dodges your blade with ease, and you deftly evade his counterattacks. It seems as if you're evenly matched for a while. Blood and bruises start to decorate both of your faces, but your healing powers kick in, burning with pain that only fuels your rage.

With a swift sweep of your leg, you send Wolfwood crashing into the sand. You leap onto him, clutching the knife tightly, ready to deliver a finishing blow. But just as you raise the knife over your head, pain shoots through your fingers as the blade snaps in half and lands in the sand. You whirl your head toward Vash, his gun still smoking. It's a move of desperation, and Vash has never been more thankful for the spare bullet he found.

Wolfwood seizes the opportunity to switch positions, pinning you to the sand. You struggle against him, demanding he get off. He holds you in place until you stop resisting. Lying back, you mutter, "Just kill me."

"I could never do that."

"I'm dead anyway," you mutter, revealing the harsh reality that Knives considers you expendable. It's a grim truth that hangs heavy in the air.

"Everything you've done has been to survive. And I was the asshole who doubted you. I was wrong for that. But right now you can trust that I won't let anything happen to you."

"Idiot. As if you're any match for him," you sigh. Slowly, Wolfwood gets to his feet and helps you stand. But before he can react, your foot lands a solid kick to his shin, causing him to keel over in pain.

"That's for shooting at me!" you declare.

"God! You devil woman!" Wolfwood curses, nursing his throbbing leg.

"Get over it," you sigh. Your gaze locks onto Vash, making the blonde stiffen. With brisk steps, you approach him. He holds up his hands, not wanting any smoke. You grip the pad of the handcuffs, and it unlatches from his wrist. He looks down in surprise.

"You're… Letting me go?"

"I lost. It's just how things are between us," you admit, already hating the unspoken agreement that hangs in the air. Wolfwood groans behind you as the elixir does its job, gradually mending his wounds.

"But if you go back empty-handed-"

"It doesn't matter," you say firmly. Vash reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It does matter! You said it yourself. Stay with us."

You pause, your emotions conflicting within you. Finally, you admit, "I don't really have much choice anyway."

Vash's eyes flutter open, adjusting to the daylight that's already warming up the car. He stretches and yawns, glancing around the vehicle. "Good morning," he greets, still somewhat groggy. His eyes dart to the front where you're driving in silence. "Where's Wolfwood?" he asks, puzzled. You remain silent, and Vash scratches his face, gradually realizing there are cuffs restraining him. His eyes widen as he sees his revolver resting on the dashboard. He lets out an exasperated groan and rubs his face. "Don't tell me you tricked us."

"Nico, always had this thing about family. We all were put through the same shit so we're family. I never understood it but he was dumb enough to think I did."

"You're quite persistent, I'll give you that," Vash remarks with a sheepish smile. You glance at him briefly in the rearview mirror.

"You're nothing like him, you know?" you comment. "You might look just like him, but I could never imagine that man smiling before I met you." Vash falls silent.

"He wasn't always like that," he says quietly.

"You would know," you reply.

"So, where are you taking me?"

"July," you say. "I haven't had the chance to update my associates yet, though."

"Is it wise to tell me that?" Vash questions.

"I figured if you were planning an escape, you'd prefer to do it now," you say. "I'd rather keel over in the sun than make a false call to Knives."

"So you've already made time for me to escape? You're quite punctual."

"I have about three weeks left to play cat and mouse with you before Knives comes looking for me."

"And Wolfwood?"

"Idiot got out to take a leak and I just drove away," you smirk. "You slept right through all his cursing."

"He didn't shoot at the car again?" Vash asks. You gesture with your thumb towards the back, and Vash turns to see the signature cross-shaped weapon in the trunk. He lets out a sigh, dropping his head.

"One last thing," you add. "I know you removed your prosthetic hand to escape the cuff before. So if you look down, you'll see a glove over your hand." Vash examines the glove. "I've wedged it into your wrist and the cuff. If you try to remove it, it will tear," you explain.

"What's to stop me from-" Vash begins.

"That glove is the last memento I have of my grandmother. Please handle it with care," you interject.

"Oh, come on!" Vash groans, covering his face with his hands. You chuckle softly from the front seat.

"Hungry?" you ask, offering him a bag. Vash accepts it, still pouting.

"Thank you," he says.

Another silent hour of driving is slowly driving Vash mad. The desire to be doing something, anything useful, gnaws at him, making his skin itch.

"Need to stop for gas," you finally break the silence, and Vash perks up as he spots a small gas station in the distance, situated in the middle of nowhere.

"Could you get me a drink?" Vash asks, flashing a sweet smile.

"You're the one who's being kidnapped, and you're asking for a drink?" you remark, raising an eyebrow.

"Pretty please?" Vash continues to smile. You pull up to the gas pump and open your car door, muttering to yourself.

"He's lucky he's so damn cute; otherwise, I might have left him tied to the back of the car hours ago," you grumble, slamming the car door. Vash watches as you open his door and grab his arm, causing him to stumble out of the car.

"Ye-eh!" he utters, and you press your finger to the cuff, unlocking the one around his flesh wrist. After closing the door, you loop the cuff around the door handle and latch it again.

"There you go. Some outdoor time, puppy," you say, patting his shoulder, before turning away.

"Woof," Vash mumbles sarcastically. From the other side, you begin filling up the car with gas and then proceed into the store.

"Welcome!" The shop clerk greets you with a smile.

Vash tugs at the handcuffs gently, their clattering noise echoing against the car. He contemplates the idea of breaking them; they couldn't be that strong, right? Surely he's stronger. With a determined stance, Vash focuses on the metal restraints, mentally preparing them for their imminent demise. Without further hesitation, he yanks on the handcuffs. Instead of breaking, as he had hoped, the car door suddenly swings open, smacking him in the face. Vash stumbles backward, clutching his nose, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Angrily huffing away his frustration, he kicks the car door in revenge, not considering it might pull him too when it closes. After wiping his face, he looks around, relieved that no one witnessed his mishap.

However, you did see it. Attracted by the noise, you glanced over just in time to catch the hilarious moment. You wish you had recorded it; it would be perfect to show Wolfwood the next time you see him.

But then reality hits you. You won't be seeing him again. You grab a bag of chips from the shelf and continue your shopping, your clouded thoughts suddenly clearing.

Meanwhile, Vash rubs his nose one last time before glancing back at the handcuffs. His heart sinks as he realizes the glove has torn a bit. Oh no! He didn't mean for this to happen! What's he going to say to you? You'll be disappointed, and that would break his heart. Your grandmother...

Wait a minute.

You don't even have a grandmother.

Exiting the store with a plastic bag in hand, you pull the gas pump out of the car. Stepping to the other side, you peer into the bag.

"I got you some juice and chips. I hope that's..." you begin to say but trail off when you see the handcuffs - handcuffs with no hands to cuff. You mutter a curse. Just when you were trying to do something nice for him. That smooth-talking, cute smiling motherfucker.

Unfortunately for him, the unforgiving desert doesn't conceal his tracks, and they lead in the direction he ran. You jump into the car, knowing you'll catch up with him.

Sure enough, a dune over, you spot Vash sprinting for his life with Wolfwood's cross on his back. You pull up in front of him and lower the window.

"Really? The fuck were you gonna go? There's miles of nothing out here," you say.

"Hey! You started it by lying to me! You don't have a grandma!"

"I have a grandma!" You defend. "I just… Never knew her." You sigh, rubbing the tiredness from your face. "Just get back in the car. Try to escape in a more populated area next time."

Vash reluctantly concedes, realizing he doesn't have much of a choice. He opens the car's back door and tosses the cross inside. As he does, the distant sound of revving engines fills the air, drawing his attention. He listens closely, making out the sound of bandits whooping and laughing like maniacs.

"Bandits. They're attacking the store," he tells you, concern in his voice. You shake your head, leaning your arms on the window.

"So?" you reply indifferently.

"So?! We have to help them!" Vash exclaims, frustrated by your apparent lack of empathy.

"For what? Bandits take everything out here. Everyone knows the risks," you reply with a shrug. Frustrated and unwilling to wait for more of your pessimistic reasoning, Vash takes off back in the direction he came from.

"Vash! Really?!" you call after him. You sit back in the car, realizing that even if he succeeds, he'll still have nowhere else to go. You close your eyes and depress the brake pedal, shifting into drive. "God dammit."

By the time you arrive, Vash is already in the midst of the confrontation, swinging left and right, easily incapacitating the bandits. Part of you considers just watching him from the hood of the car; you expected him to have experience, but he's putting on quite the show.

From what you've seen, Vash the Stampede seems like an imbecile. But this Vash, the one with fire in his eyes, has you questioning which side of him is the real one. It also leaves you wondering why you're so mesmerized by the stark contrast between the two.

One of the bandits attempts to sneak up on Vash, wielding a pipe. With a swift flick of your wrist, your dagger pierces the bandit's shoulder. Vash turns at the screams, locking eyes with you after the bandit falls.

"You could help!" he calls out.

"Nope," you shake your head, your elbows resting on the hood. "Looks like you've got it handled." With that, Vash returns his attention to the ongoing fight.

A hand swiftly snatches your wrist, yanking it behind your back, and you hear the unmistakable click of cuffs sealing around your wrists. Startled, you snap your head toward Wolfwood.

"What the hell?! How did you get here?!" you ask, your struggles to break free intensifying. Wolfwood maneuvers you toward the back of the car, exchanging his cross for your presence, and forcefully slams the door shut.

"Nico!" you urgently press your finger to the pad, but the cuffs remain locked. "You overrode my fingerprint?! Nico! Get back here, you bastard!"

Oh, he's definitely hearing your muffled screams, and it's taking everything in him not to burst into laughter as he joins Vash. With the duo reunited the bandits flee the scene in a hurry, disappearing into the horizon.

The pair returns to the car, chatting merrily amongst themselves. "She's right here," Wolfwood announces, opening the car door and pulling you out, but you resist, tugging away from him. Vash's eyes widen in surprise.

"So, she's our captive now?" Vash inquires.

"Great, isn't it? Serves her right," Wolfwood grins.

"Prick."

"Aw, how cute. Like a pomeranian," Wolfwood teases, only for you to retaliate by kicking him in the shin. "Ow!" Wolfwood crumples.

You slink closer to Vash, who tenses up as you look up at him with big, sweet eyes. "Vashie. I've been good to you, haven't I? Please don't let Nico treat me like this. I promise to be good. Please?" you flutter your lashes.

Vash's cheeks burn crimson. He huffs, runs a hand through his hair, groans, and eventually sighs. "Let her go."

"What?!" both you and Wolfwood exclaim in unison.

You can't believe that worked.

He can't believe that worked!

"Are you insane?! She literally kidnapped you! Twice!" Wolfwood protests. "Not to mention stabbed me! Are you seriously—"

"Just unlock it," Vash insists. Wolfwood grumbles but reaches out to unlatch the cuff from one of your wrists. You swiftly pull your hands to the front, sticking your tongue out at Wolfwood.

Click.

Both of you turn, and Vash secures the other cuff to his own wrist. In silence, you examine where you and Vash are now attached.

"Oh, hell no," you declare immediately.

"The hell?"

"Look, she won't go anywhere without me, and now she won't have to. Whether I'm her captive or she's mine doesn't matter because we'll be attached," Vash says, lifting up your wrists and dangling the cuffs for emphasis.

"Absolutely not," you insist.

"What? Needle noggin, she could kill you."

"She hasn't tried to yet. I trust her," Vash responds, looking at you with a smile that makes your heart race.

Gross.

"Nico, get me the hell out of this," you demand.

"No."

"What do you mean no? You just said you were against it."

"I am against it. But it's also the only way to keep an eye on you."

"This isn't—"

"Excuse me," the store owner's voice draws all three of you to attention, and you turn toward them. They offer a warm smile. "Thank you so much for your help. I'd like to repay you with something to eat, but those bandits made off with most of my inventory."

"Oh, it's not a problem at all. But are you alright?" Vash inquires with genuine concern, making you roll your eyes.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you. However, it is getting late, and the best thing I can offer you is the mattresses in the back. They may not be much, but I think they'll suffice."

"Really? That's incredibly kind of you! Thank you!" Vash beams with gratitude.

Without consulting your opinion, Vash guides, or rather drags, you through the store to a shabby back room. To your dismay, there are only two beds. That means... no. You refuse to entertain that idea.

"Get me the hell—"

"Just deal with it," Wolfwood interjects with a sigh, already claiming the bed on the right.

"You must be tired," Vash says, leading you to the other bed. Reluctantly, you follow.

"Absolutely not. You're sleeping on the floor," you declare, plopping down onto the mattress.

"What?! That's not—"

"Besides, this damn thing's too small for two people anyway. Here," you toss the pillow and blanket onto the floor. "Goodnight," you announce before reclining.

"But won't you get cold?" Vash worries, lifting the blanket back to you.

"I don't get cold," you mutter, closing your eyes. Vash concedes, not wanting to disturb you any further.

It feels as though you're enveloped in a cozy cocoon, warm, soft, and filled with a pleasant scent. You could easily get lost in this comfort.

Slowly, you open your eyes, only to find yourself shrouded in darkness. Rolling over, you notice a sliver of moonlight seeping through a small window, illuminating Wolfwood's back. As if to cruelly remind you of your situation, Vash adds a loud snore to the mix. Dammit.

You shift your attention to the cloud-like sensation you're enveloped in—red. Bright red. Project seeds? It's Vash's damn coat. That sneaky bastard! You fling it away to a corner of the bed and sit up.

"Nico," you whisper, trying not to disturb Vash's sleep. He doesn't budge. "Nico!"

"Hm?" Wolfwood mumbles, slowly rousing.

"I need to pee. Come on, let me out of this thing."

"No. Just wait until morning."

"Nico!"

Wolfwood sighs and rises slowly from the bed, trudging across the room to press his finger to the pad, releasing you.

"Be fast."

"I plan on it," you reply, slipping through the door.

The store is eerily silent, but you hurry through it, your one goal to reach the car. The sight of your car has never filled you with such elation before – freedom at last. The door squeaks as you open it and hop inside.

Finally, it's time to get the hell out of here. Hopefully the two will let their guards down in another week. You shove the key into the ignition.

"I trust her."

Vash's words make you pause. Why the fuck are you hesitating?

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Your forehead collides with the steering wheel. What's wrong with you?

The worn spring mattress creaks as you sit back down. You shift your jaw and pull the cuff back over your wrist, latching it in frustration. Grabbing the discarded coat from the corner, you lie down again. With your eyes scrunched closed, you curse yourself.

Vash smiles.

It blinks blue tonight.

The sweltering heat jolts you awake, and you curse under your breath. Is it morning already? You would've welcomed a few more moments of blissful slumber. You're so comfortable that you could almost forget the world exists.

Your tired eyes flutter open, only to be met with darkness, but it's not the familiar darkness of night. It's the darkness of fabric. You lift your gaze, taking a few moments to comprehend what you're seeing.

Vash.

He's right there in the bed next to you, holding you close as if you might vanish. His gentle yet slightly calloused fingers entwined with yours, bridging the gap between you. The cuff still binds you together, and it's his warmth that's now surrounding you, ensuring you won't succumb to the cold. He holds you with a tenderness that suggests you mean something precious to him.

But something within you rebels.

No.

You shove.

"Whu-ah-uhf!" Vash collides with the floor. "Ouch," he groans. He sits up rubbing the back of his head. "What was that for?!"

"I should be asking you that! Why the hell were you-"

"Keep it down, idiots. It's still morning," Wolfwood says entering the room. He tosses some food onto the bed at your feet.

"Nico! You'd better let me out of this fucking thing right now!" You snap.

"You know that's not gonna happen." Nico sits on the other bed tearing open a new carton of cigarettes.

"Are you kidding me?!" You snap. Something waves around in the corner of your vision. You look down to the donut Vash offers to you with a smile.

"Please, accept this token of my sorryness," he says. With a sigh you take the donut.

Driving with just one hand isn't the smartest move out here in the dunes, but the idea of letting Wolfwood take the wheel? That's a disaster waiting to happen, and you're not about to find out how that might unfold. Plus, the thought of being stuck in the backseat with Vash doesn't sound much better. You shudder at the notion that he might talk your ear off, and the idea of dislocating your wrist to escape the conversation isn't appealing either.

However, as you sit in the front seat, you notice that Vash is remarkably quiet. Wolfwood succumbed to sleep not long after hopping into the car, sparing you from his commentary on Vash's silence. But you won't complain about it either.

When you steal a sideways glance at Vash, you catch a glimpse of a subtle smile on his face, which is somewhat reassuring. Not that you'd admit to caring one way or the other.

The two of them allowed you to take the wheel, as long as you steer clear of July. Instead, you're headed toward some nameless town. Right now, your destination doesn't matter much; all you care about is finding a place with a cold beer waiting for you.

The radio drones on with some evangelical station, filling the silence between the sound of sand against the car. It's becoming tiresome, and you yearn for some music, anything to break the monotony. You ponder the idea of getting some tapes or something. Hell, even Vash's chatter would be an improvement over this drivel. Finally, you decide to take action, reaching out to switch off the radio. Vash's attention finally shifts to you.

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm just peachy," you reply, your tone heavy with sarcasm. Surprisingly, Vash chuckles.

"Trust me this town is really great. All the people are nice and the food's amazing too. But if you need a break to stretch your legs, I'm all for it."

"No. I'm fine."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"Why did you volunteer?"

Damn. You curse yourself for not anticipating his curiosity. After all, he's been alongside Wolfwood this entire time; there's probably nothing he doesn't know.

"It's just… it's what Knives wanted from me."

"Nai forced you?"

"No. Knives saved me and I promised him I'd do anything in return. He waited until the treatment was perfected, and I became his soldier. I… Would do anything for him."

"Does Wolfwood know this?"

"He suspects, but doesn't know the whole story," you say. "I was… Born into a trafficking ring. The day I was meant to go up for auction Knives appeared. He slaughtered them all and saved me. Conrad employed the best fighters to train me and after the treatment was complete, I was perfect. I've taken on every job Knives has ever asked me to."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"Save it," you interrupt, cutting him off. "I'm not hung up on it or anything. Besides, I don't blame Nico either. We were all just kids anyway." Wolfwood's gaze drifts out of the window and no one mentions the absence of his snoring.

As the sky begins to paint itself with shades of orange and pink, you roll up to the town. Vash had succumbed to sleep a while ago, but even without his watchful eye, you continued driving to their destination. Like an idiot.

For a bit of gentle revenge, you tap the brakes a little too firmly as you park. Both men jolt forward and groan. "Oh, good, you're up."

"Devil woman," Wolfwood grumbles from the backseat.

"I'm starving," you mutter.

"Come on. I know the perfect place," Vash chimes in with a smile. The three of you step into the lively town, most of its residents hanging out outdoors despite the late hour. Vash moves through the town with an air of contentment, which strikes you as odd, given his bounty.

Unfortunately, the warmth isn't reciprocated by the townspeople. They glance over at you three but quickly sour. Vash remains oblivious, thankfully, but Wolfwood, always the observer, takes a moment to grasp that they're not looking at Vash.

"Are you famous around here?" he inquires of you.

"Something like that," you mutter. Vash raises his head and scans the crowd.

"You've been here before?" Vash asks.

"Once," you reply.

"We don't have to stay—"

"It's fine. They'll still take my money."

"Okay," Vash agrees. "It's just up here."

Vash leads you both around the corner, and you catch sight of the bar. Regrettably, the bounty hunters lurking outside also lock eyes with you.

"Shit," you mutter, grabbing Vash and Wolfwood, pulling them forcefully out of sight.

"Isn't that Millions Knives' favorite little hunter?!" one of the hunters calls out.

"You need to get this off me now," you demand, your voice trembling with urgency.

"What? What's the matter with-" Vash begins, but you cut him off.

"Those are bounty hunters who have spent their lives looking for Vash. They would eat him alive. Unlock it!" Vash turns stiff at your sudden grotesque choice of words, and with a harsh gulp nervously pulls at his collar.

"What's your plan?" Wolfwood asks, his eyes narrowing.

"They won't just let me go. Please, trust me!" you plead desperately. "And get Vash out of here!"

Wolfwood clenches his jaw, processing the danger as the voices that sing-song your name draw nearer. Nico sighs, finally unlocking the cuff.

"I'll find you," you promise, then swiftly retreat back around the corner, leaving the two men.

"Be careful," Vash mutters though he knows you won't hear him.

"Thought that was you!" one of them barks, swaggering toward you with a lopsided grin. "Who're your buddies?"

"Just some damn newbies that won't take a hint," you retort with a cocky edge. "I had to show 'em who's boss and sent 'em running." The bounty hunter laughs, and two more rough-looking figures join the group.

"You're right on time. The real party's just gettin' started," another one says, tossing a meaty arm over your shoulder.

"Really? Is DedRod here?" you inquire, making them erupt in raucous laughter.

"God rest his damn soul," another hunter chimes in.

Inside the bar, your popularity takes a nosedive. They all recognize you and know who you work for, and more importantly, they're well aware of the task he's given you. Their expectations are sky-high, and you realize you'll have to spin a tale of failure, even if that means it gets back to Knives.

"She said she'd nab the Typhoon! Look at her now—still empty-handed!" an old-timer, way past his prime for this gig, spits venomously onto the table.

"Yeah, yeah," you wave him off, the bar erupting into a rowdy chorus. "I've been at this, what, less than a week? How long have you been chasing that ghost? Oh right, a God damn decade! And you're still only chasing your tails." You slam back the rest of your pint, punctuating your point.

Vash and Wolfwood sit at a modest pop-up stand, their meal consumed in silence. Vash stares down into his bowl, the contents as cloudy as he feels. His fingers tighten around the utensil. "Should we have really left her back there?" Vash mumbles, his concern palpable.

"They're bounty hunters. She made the right call," Wolfwood replies firmly. "She knows them. She knows what she's doing."

"I just can't trust it," Vash adds, his worry unabated.

"It? You mean them?" Wolfwood probes.

"You saw the way they acted!" Vash retorts.

"Let it go. She'll be alright," Wolfwood reassures, his confidence unwavering.

Hours later, you stagger through the town, your senses dulled by alcohol. You managed to slip away when the others succumbed to sleep, sprawled wherever they fell. You may not know exactly where you're headed, but you do know you can't stay there. It's best to make your way back to your car; at least you can pass out there.

A hulking figure crosses your path, and a grating voice shatters your blurry thoughts, "What do we have here?" With half-lidded eyes, you meet the man's gaze.

"Move," you slur, attempting to assert yourself.

"Seems like you've had a bit too much to drink. Why don't you come with me? I'll take care of you," the man leers.

"Fuck off. I won't tell you again," you manage to say, trying to sidestep him, but he seizes your arm, yanking you back.

"Don't be like that. I'm just trying to help you," he persists, pulling you closer and grabbing your waist. "Promise I'll be gentle."

"Get the hell away!" You attempt to push him off, but you're drained of strength.

Help... Help... Va-

"Let her go," a chilling voice pierces the night, freezing your heart. "Now!" That signature revolver is now inches from the man's head.

"There's no need for that. You see, my girlfriend here just gets a little feisty after a few drinks," the man smirks.

"I said," Vash cocks back the hammer. "Let her go." Seeing his inevitable defeat, the man releases you with his hands raised. Vash takes your elbow with gentle fingers, his entire demeanor shifting when he looks at you. His blue eyes convey care and concern.

"You okay?" he asks, his presence feeling like a lifeline.

"You're here," you murmur in awe. In this moment, Vash appears as an angel in your eyes. He smiles before turning his attention back to the man, his sweet face now wearing a scowl you've never seen before, almost making him look like—

"Beat it," Vash orders, and the man grumbles as he walks away. Vash lowers his gun and holsters it, returning his full focus to you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

You step closer, burying your face in his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. His scent envelops you, his warmth seeping through your skin. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulses through you, comforting you. "Vash."

"What is it?" His hands find your shoulders.

"Vash," you repeat, his name a mantra on your lips. He's here. He came.

Vash tenderly cups your cheeks, tilting your face up. "I'm right here."

"Promise me you won't leave," you implore, your eyes revealing what you can't put into words. It's the fear of losing something you've grown to care for, a fear he knows all too well.

Vash blinks in surprise, taken aback by your request. But nonetheless, he won't refuse. "I promise," Vash assures, as his hand cradles the back of your head, holding you close. "I'll never leave your side."

Wolfwood rounds the corner, spotting the unmistakable red coat. Vash walks down the deserted street, you safely in his embrace. Wolfwood joins you both halfway.

"What the hell happened? I turned around, and you were gone," Wolfwood says, glancing down at you, fast asleep.

"I just... heard her."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Just needs some rest."

"I hear that," Wolfwood says.

Still blue tonight.

THIS IS NOT THE END!

Click the AO3 link to read the full fic!

Thank you ❤

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fanfiction

[doubledyke]

Hello, Double D for 1, 2, 3, 10, 12, 15, 16. I'm anxious for this.

i'm gonna group these together since they're both for edd and there's some overlap. thank you guys 😁 also as far as my corny ass mood boards, maybe! it's super embarrassing for me but what isn't at this point?? anyway let's see what we've got here for the lizard man

1. why i like or dislike him: i love edd! for many reasons. he's a genuinely kind-hearted person who, much like eddy, usually can't help but show his emotions. i think he's really funny, whether it's his notoriously sassy wit, or just the weird ass shit he does. i LOOOOOOVE his hamminess. he's such a drama queen. oh and he makes a lot of really strange noises that always make me laugh.

2. favorite canon thing about his character: edd is courageous as hell. i think it was moth that mentioned how quick he is to nut up when the time comes to defend his friends. i'll never, ever, ever, ever recover from him standing up to bro. like... what a guy.

3. least favorite canon thing about his character: dude talks too much. and his voice can be a little grating at times lmfao but honestly it's just part of what makes him who he is. and we love him for it!!

6. what's something i have in common with him: oh lord. well i've harped on it a ton before, but definitely the anxiety and ocd. i also relate to his abnormal fixation to headwear as you'd be hard pressed to see me without a bandana or beanie. no idea why, but i feel naked without something covering my dome. there's other stuff of course, but i'll keep it brief.

7. something the fandom does with edd that i like: i'm glad that people are more normal about him these days....lol.

10. could i be best friends with him: y'know i'm not sure. as if it's not obvious, i have a bit of an inferiority complex, so being around people who are super skilled and smart makes me low key want to take a fucking dirt nap lmfao. also i have no interest in bugs and amoebas and shit. BUT i do think edd is a great friend to ed and eddy.

12. what's a headcanon i have for this character: too many to name, same with the other two. trying to think of one that i haven't shared here before... oh i think his parents are loaded and he'd have a big ass trust fund or whatever it is rich parents give their kids. i think that's the only thing his parents would ever do for him that would actually show a modicum of consideration for his well-being. but who knows, they might go back on that if he "annoys" them. or maybe he wouldn't accept the money out of principle? 👀 also, there's at least one instance in the show where it's implied that edd has money to spend on stuff he wants (a case of ed, he bought books at the library), which is REALLY funny to me because if that's the case he could just buy some goddamn jawbreakers... and what, ruin the plot? i know, i know. i'm just saying.

15. what's my favorite ship for this character: him and the pink bastard are the couple of all time

16. what's my least favorite ship for this character: besides the obvious one involving a certain red-head whose chin resembles a tool used for digging, i gotta say eddmay does nothing for me. they look too similar 😂

#thanks again! #i feel like people might think i dislike edd or something which couldn't be further from the truth #text

[clatoera]

Always Remember We're Burned for Better Chapter 18: Not My Homeland Anymore...So What Am I Defending?

Howdy guys! Here we are. Chapter 18. It's.. a big one. And important one. With the big declaration of loyalty from Cato and Clove, which everyone knew was coming. I got the 'vid while writing this so it took forever. I cannot believe we only have three more chapters after this. What a wild it has been.

Title from exile (t swift)

AO3

Masterpost

As always. Thank you to my besties. You are truly the reason I am capable of writing. @ohhowwehavefallen is my literal sounding board and helps me as my dictionary of panem. @kentwells listens to me whine daily, and @crookedlyniceperson I'm not sure what the meme content here is but...it's coming!

That being said..the things said here are not final.. They are SPECULATING. They don't know who's alive out there. Thats all i'm gonna say.

“Great job Clove, that's it baby.” Cato half hollers, half grins, giving her a reassuring pat on her hip before he crosses towards the front of the armory, to gather the precious five knives she had to throw.  He recollects them from the outside in, each knife lodging closer and closer to the center of the target. “You’re getting better.”

“Not good enough.” Clove groans, rolling her right wrist out in the couple of seconds she has between rounds of tossing her knives. They had worked on this for weeks– maybe it was even close to a month, now– and while she was getting closer and closer to herself she still had what Cato would call limitations. She would call them failures, of course. Namely, being that she could only get about a dozen or so throws in before her shoulder and wrist began to feel that dull throb deep inside the joint spaces.  “Enobaria would fucking kill me if she saw me now.”

“Enobaria isn’t my biggest fan, but I think she’d agree with me, Clove.” Cato raises an eyebrow at the girl, holding out one of the knives for her to take back. “I think she’d just be glad to see you alive.”

“Think she’s alive out there? Or Brutus?” Clove cocks her head, cracking her neck side to side before bringing the knife up past her shoulder. When she flicks her wrist and releases the blade, it lodges itself only a couple of inches left of the target. She slams her fist down in defeat, a dissatisfied whine escaping her. “If we were in the games i’d be fucking dead already.”

“I don’t know who’s alive. I don’t know what's left out there.” He admits to her, handing another knife out blade forward. “Good thing we aren’t in the games then, right? Just a war.” 

She laughs, for about half a second, before she lodges another knife immediately to the right of her last.  “For fucks sake!”

“That was technically closer than last time-” Cato is interrupted when the heavy metal doors to the armory swing upward, and the clicking shoes that echo towards them are revealed to belong to their very own ex-gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee. 

“Cato..Clove.” The man greets, giving them each a very informal nod. “Theres are very own District Thirteen careers–”

“We aren’t from thirteen.” Clove snaps, but brings the knife in her hand to rest on her hip rather than throw it in front of him. Old Clove would have thrown knife after knife and hit the target time after time. Intimidation tactics and all that. Missing the center wasn’t going to impress anyone– it might even make her look like a target. 

“What do you want, Plutarch?” Cato takes a step closer to Clove, draping his arm over her shoulders possessively– or maybe it’s protectively.  

“If you two will follow me… it’s urgent.” 

Cato and Clove shoot each other a look, but when Cato gives an imperceptible nod of the head, they take the steps forward to follow the leader together. 

“A word of advice? Agree to this.” Is all Plutarch warns as they weave down hallways and descend to even deeper levels of the fortress that is District Thirteen. 

They are eventually led to a room, filled with only three others. Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, and one Alma Coin.

“Please. Sit.” The president urges them first, nodding to two chairs across a broad board-room style table. There's something in the energy in the room that keeps them from putting up a fight or questioning it– a tension that they know better than to add to from years and years of academy training.

“I will make this short. District Two is the last of the districts aligned with the Capitol and Snow. As you two are well aware, it’s also the military center for the country. With Two on their side, the Capitol can continue this fight. That's where we are bringing you two in. Katniss here-” The gray haired woman gently gestures her left hand to her side, where Katniss sits nearly expressionless except for something frantic dancing behind her eyes. “Has assured of the loyalty you two have formed to our cause. We are sending you two to District Two, along with Katniss and the others. It is your responsibility to bring your home to the side of our cause.”

“District Two has long had loyalties to the Capitol. It’s what we’re raised on, I don’t know if they’ll listen to us.” Cato hesitates, leaning back in his chair and bringing his arms across his chest. “They probably see us as traitors.”

“Let me make something abundantly clear. This is a courtesy to your district. The numbers across the districts make me hesitate to outwardly destroy Two, in terms of population left to recover from the war. But we will not allow Two to stand between us and victory. If you cannot convince them, that is fine. We will handle this accordingly. And if the two of you show any sign of loyalty to them? The consequences will be dire.” President Coin pushes herself back from the chair and stands, straightening the front of her suit jacket. 

“What if we don’t want-” Clove starts, but is very quickly shot a lot of fear from Katniss before one of utter disdain fills the gray eyes of Coin. 

“This is not a request, Miss Kentwell. This is an order.” The clicking of her shoes echoes in the borderline empty room as she heads towards the door. “You leave in an hour.”

A guard follows her out, and as soon as the victors are left behind with Plutarch, Clove’s head whips around to face them.  “Convince our district? They aren’t going to listen to us, they’ll think we’re just traitors!” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. There is some resistance in two, it’s there, but you two do have the power of being one of them.” Plutarch lowers himself to sit beside Cato, and he gestures between Cato and Clove. “The two of you are the best Two has to offer. And you have proven your district loyalty again and again. And now you can show that even the best of you, especially you, Clove, are not immune to the brutality of the Capitol and Snow. It’s a powerful testimony you can offer.”

“And what if they don’t like what I have to say?” Clove scoffs, rolling her eyes and leaning back in her chair next to Cato, mirroring the same irritated posture. “What am I supposed to do? Show them my x-rays.”

“Tell them what they did to you.” Haymitch suggests, chiming in and leaning towards them, adjusting the beanie on his head before he does so. “There's other victors out there in Two, You know that. You have family, you probably have friends…okay maybe no friends but I know that you have family, Cato.”

“What did she mean by the loyalty thing..does she think we're going to turn back to the Capitol after what they did to her?” Cato suggests, looking at Katniss for the answer, the tense history of her and Coin not quite a secret to him.

“If there is any…concern..that you two may still have loyalties to the Capitol, yes there will be consequences.” Plutarch interjects, but not before Katniss can take over. 

“She’ll probably have you killed.” Katniss admits. “I wouldn't put anything past her these days.”

—

The ride to two is harrowing and silent. It takes a couple hours, maybe. Not that either can tell, not without windows to mark their journey. Not that either dares to speak, either.

They sit side by side, backs against a metal wall with legs touching in utter and complete silence. 

Best not indicate sympathies and be shot before they even land. 

–

The landing is aggressive and jarring, and would have knocked them to the ground had they not already been sitting. Still, it knocks Clove more harshly into him and she grabs at his thigh to brace herself with the rough landing. 

“Are we ready for this?” Clove half whispers, tightening her grip on his thigh, not looking up so that her hair would shield them from their conversation being held. 

“We have to be.” His hand found hers and squeezed, before the large door at the front of the craft began to open.  They scramble to push themselves to a standing position, before guards with guns can assemble around Katniss and lead her out.

They follow last, hesitation flooding through them both as they stand at the top of the metal sloping door. Clove pauses first, Cato stiffening beside her as the undisguisable sound of bombing echoes through the hollow metal. 

“Are you coming?” Someone calls up to them, and it doesn't matter who, because they take the steps down into the open town square of what was once their home. 

The first look is shocking, to say the least. 

There are no words to explain the feeling of seeing your home resolved to rubble.

There are no words for seeing the ashes of your childhood school, or the crater that now sits where the rest of the Justice Building once was, or the resounding sounds of more explosions off in the mountains. 

There are no words for the horror that hits Cato and Clove in the very core of who they are. 

“Cato, what’s happened to this place?” Clove whispers, squinting into the distance where she can see rising smoke along the entirety of the mountain range their houses and the various villages and mines once were. “What have they done–”

“There's no time to explain that right now” Haymitch interrupts, placing a hand on both of their shoulders. “We need to get inside”

They are numb, completely numb as they are led into the remnants of the justice building. T

They ascend the marble steps, slipping past the crumbling pillars and broken stairs, and Clove cannot help but remember the last time they had climbed these stairs, hand in hand, formally and officially married. 

Cato tightens the grip on her arm, clearly thinking the exact same thing. 

“We’re never even going to get to tell anyone.” Clove reminds him in a harsh whimper, once they are under the cover of the marble archway. “There's no one left.”

“We don’t know that..” But he cannot outright deny it. 

When they hear a booming voice welcoming them to District Two, Clove sees red. 

“Cato, Clove. Welcome home. You are a welcome addition to our cause.” Lyme, now ‘Commander’ Lyme calls out, a welcoming and nearly warm smile on her face. “I was shocked to hear of your shifted alliance, but we are nonetheless happy to have you.”

“Oh go to hell,” Clove hisses, and the arm that was around her arm slips around her waist as Cato instinctively knows to hold her back. “You sent us to die, you fucking cunt.” She struggles against Cato’s grip, but he does not let her go, he does let her fidget. 

“Clove, You have to understand. I didn’t want to send you in, but I couldn’t go. I was part of something bigger, that you are now part of too, surely you understand–”

“They left her to die! Like hell do we understand! You sent us in there, willing to kill us both for this!” Cato agrees, but due to his struggling wife in his arms he cannot take a step towards the other ex victor, no matter how his anger may want him to. 

“To die for this cause is a price we all must be willing to make-” Lyme insists, but her calm demeanor only serves to anger them more. 

“Yeah. But YOU weren’t willing to be the one to do it. Sacrifice us! Because killing your young is how we survive, right? Isn’t that the point of the games!” Clove nearly screams, but Haymitch, once again playing peacekeeper, is stepping between them. 

“This is not helping, and you know it, Clove.” He insists. 

“Where is Enobaria! You wanted to preserve the other victors, where is she!” Clove growls, finally breaking free of Cato’s grasp, her long-earned resolve not breaking when she realizes just how much that hurt. 

“Clove, I can’t tell you that information–”

“Where. Is. She? And Brutus! Are they alive where ARE they?” She insists, now the center of attention in the entire room, all eyes focused on the mad woman they plucked out of the Capitol. 

“I can’t tell you those things.” Lyme doubles down, before turning away from them, now addressing a broader group around the table. 

“Do you think they’re dead?” Cato wonders out loud, and Clove shakes her head rapidly. “No..no they can’t be dead.”

“We are thankful for your help here in Two. As you know, we have had quite the fight with the Capitol on our own. All of the villages on the north side of the mountain are destroyed, along with those on the south. All that remains on the west face is the peacekeeper barracks.” Lyme pulls up a holographic map of their home, complete with smoke billowing from the ashes of bodies and livelihoods. “We are what remains. The city to the east.”

“This is all that's left?” Clove looks to Cato, expression dropping as the reality of it all settles on her shoulders. “All the villages, the mines..”

“There's no way, that's most of the district” Cato denies but he finds himself glancing past the table, to the rising smoke on the side of the mountain.

“Cato, your parents live on the south face…” She narrows her eyes at the diagram, wondering if the small town at the base of the mountain had been spared in any way. “What about Cora and your mom and your dad and-” She makes no mention of her relatives, of her grandma in the south or her father and his new family to the north. They may as well have died to her years ago, God knows neither would stand beside her now. 

They’re discussing the fate of family and villages, zoned out when they hear the absolutely insufferable voice of Gale Hawthorne, along with Beetee and Boggs offering some sort of plan to take the military stronghold inside the mountain. It would have been the hardest part, Clove or Cato could have told you that. If you didn’t win the games, that was the place to work. 

 Clove doesn’t pay him much mind, not that Gale ever says anything worth listening to, when she hears the word Avalanches. 

“...Trap the Enemy inside..”

“...You risk suffocating everyone inside...”

“..Not if we blow it up..”

A refute from Katniss followed by “Killing isn’t personal”

The reality of the words falls heavily on the crowd, and the majority look to Lyme, their voice of reason and balance from two. 

“They should have the chance to surrender.”

“You’ll kill everyone.” Clove asks, though it is more of an accusation than a question. “Just like that. Those are people in there, those are our people.” She glares something akin to the daggers she throws at Lyme, before she whips her head towards Gale. “You didn’t come here trying to spare numbers at all, did you.”

“No. I don’t care if a single one of you survives, frankly. Your people? Your people are the ones who burned my district to the ground.” Gale recalls, giving Clove and Cato a look that can only be described as disgust. “Every single person in Two is guilty as far as I’m concerned. Peacekeepers to Janitors, you’re all the same, in Snow’s pocket. You two can crawl in the mine too, we don’t need people like you in this war, either.”

If you ask Cato or Clove who move first, neither will know. It’s instinct, to flow in the same direction as one another, to feed off of the other  like two heads on the same snake. All they know is that they went for the same target. 

Cato reaches his first, his arm around his neck in half a second, hands on either side of his head poised to twist and dislocate it at any given moment. Clove’s got a knife, from god knows where, how she managed to sneak it on this mission no one knows, pressed to his abdomen. 

“Go ahead. Say it again.” Cato urges, a sick laugh escaping him as he sees the guns trained on them. “You wanted an excuse to kill us anyway, do it. What's one more kill Gale, what did you say a few minutes ago? It isn’t personal, why don’t we remind you just how fucking personal it can be!”

“Let him go.” Katniss pleads, taking the step forward to put herself between the action and the guns aimed at them. “Let him go, they’re going to let people surrender.” She turns, now, to face Lyme, Boggs, and the others incharge of the operation. “You let people go. You let them surrender. We are not killing an entire district.. We aren’t Snow. We aren’t the Capitol.”

It is Beetee who, rolling forward with his hands up in cautious surrender. “We will leave the train tunnel open. Now. Let Mr. Hawthorne go..”

“No. He doesn’t deserve it. What did he say? Bring on the avalanches? Wanna know what it’s like to suffocate, Gale?” Clove sneers, tracing the blade of the knife over the plane of his cheek. If the way he was coughing was any indication, Cato was already making that a reality, with the way his upper arm twitched. 

“We’re letting your people have a chance. Let him go, Cato. Clove.” Haymitch urges, his wide as his hands also come up to mirror Beetees. Something about that man, they feel the urge to trust. He nods to them, and Cato and Clove lock eyes. They let him go, and there's a chance they’ll be shot. They kill him, and they definitely will be. She gives a nod of her chin, one only Cato would pick up on, and they let him go.

As Gale falls to the ground, gasping for air, Cato and Clove are both grabbed by the arms and dragged from the room. 

Clove does not give them the satisfaction of crying out. 

And so here they sit. 

Sit by side, on the marble staircase of what was once the entrance to the Justice Building. Sure, they are somewhat exposed. At this point..who’s wasting a bomb on them?

They watch, in mutual horror, as District 13 bomb after bomb absolutely annihilates the main mountain in the city. Clove swallows back the nausea she feels at the distant screams of fear, that are all suddenly cut off as the avalanche of the bomb cuts off their air. 

Her head finds his shoulder, and it is the gentle rocking she feels that lets her know he is silently, wordlessly crying, too. 

“Everyones dead, aren’t they?” Clove gets out, and the minute the word dead slips out her resolve crashes. “We have nothing to come home to, do we?”

“We aren’t even going to have a home to come back to, Clove.” From where they sit, they can see the remnants of what was once their home. The great training academy that was not only the foundation of their training, but the foundation of them was nothing more than its own marble steps and endless rocks. 

“Do you think they killed everyone in there?” Clove gestures to their once home, which still seems to smoke. 

“Probably.” Cato admits, resting his head on top of hers as yet another round of attacks aim at the mountain. 

There was once a time in her life when Clove had slept best under a rainstorm in a room, hitting the windows above her bed. Now, as the bombs explode like thunder, Clove is sure she’ll never sleep through one again. Every strike of lighting will bring her back here. Watching her entire life burn to the ground. 

“Enobaria…Brutus..Cora…your mom..dad…they’re probably gone, huh?” Clove says the silent fear out loud. They are all they have left. 

He doesn’t verbally respond, instead reaching out and resting his arm over his shoulder, squeezing gently, careful not to hurt her. 

“We were announced as victors. Right here. On these steps.” Clove points out, gently running her hands on the marble beneath her. “We got married here. All the pictures and the speeches.. And now we’re just..losing everything. Right here. On these same steps.” She strums her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “Well. Not quite everything.”

They’re interrupted by soft steps behind them, and a gentle clearing of the throat. 

“Hi, Katniss.” Cato sighs, turning to phase the symbol of freedom herself. 

“I’m sorry. About your District.” Katniss tries, sitting on the marble steps besides them both. “I know it isn’t easy.”

“Thank you for keeping us alive back there. It’s no secret they want us dead.” Cato clears his throat looking out at the smoking remnants of his home. “We owe you for that.”

“We’re miners, too. In Twelve. You don’t… you don’t subject other miners to that kind of death. I’m sorry for what we did.”

“Thank you.” Clove finally agrees, for the first time actually acknowledging the good in Miss Katniss. “For saying that. And your friend, Katniss–” “I know, you don’t have to apologize, he was wrong–”

“I wasn’t going to apologize. He’s dangerous, Katniss. The way he thinks..he’s not that different from Snow.” Clove warns, when a voice calls out for Katniss to return. “Better fly back to the nest, Miss Mockingjay.”

“It’s for the surrender. They want you two there.” Katniss explains, giving them a pitiful glance. “I know. But they think it looks better to show you two are on our side.”

They do not fight, remembering the words and cautious glances of Haymitch Abernathy back in two. 

When they are led to the mouth of the train, with Katniss ahead of them and cameras trained on her, Clove feels a pit in the depths of her stomach. 

“Let us up there.” Clove half whispers half yells to Katniss. “We can help, more than you can. These are our people. Let us talk to them.”

Haymitch, who is to Katniss' left, gives a nod of approval. “Remember, you’re talking to everyone here.”

The camera woman, Cressida gives Katniss a hesitant nod, As Cato and Clove come to flank her sides. 

Her mouth is dry as the train car opens, and people pile out with heavy district thirteen weapons aimed in their faces. 

“They’re hurt…” Katniss whispers, and before she can rush forward Cato grabs her by the arm and holds her back. 

“They’re angry, Katniss.” He warns, just as the lights of the cameras find their faces. Cato has never been the one with the words to persuade. He is a rallyer. The great golden boy of District Two, to talk about the glory of the games and winning. He can bring everyone to their feet in a cheer…but a call to surrender? That was never going to be Cato Hadley. 

Clove, on the other hand. A girl who had spent her whole life justifying her strength, that girl, she was a manipulator. 

“Do you remember us?” Clove starts, as Cressida gives her an approving nod. The light is blinding in the dark of the train tunnel, but she continues to focus in on the camera. “You have to. We’re the pride of this district, aren’t we, Cato and I? That's what you called us, anyway. Cato and Clove..the best victors this district had in a decade.” Haymitch steps out of the frame, so that it instead focuses on Cato, Clove, and Katniss. Twelve and Two, standing united. 

“We’re the best.” Cato chimes in, giving a sure nod and that signature cocky grin. “We still are…but that didn’t matter to Snow, and to the Capitol.”

“We..are the best. We are the most loyal. We are perfect victors and it didn’t matter.” Clove continues, and for some reason she feels like she is talking to more than just the people of her home, now, with the way the Camera is focused in on her face. She is hesitant when she reaches for the buttons on the front of her District Thirteen jumpsuit. “I was perfect, and it didn’t protect me.” She pulls the neck of the jumpsuit down, revealing the continuous bruising along her collarbones that refuses to heal. “They beat me and they broke my ribs and my arms and they destroyed my body. They do not care about us. They don’t care about the victors, and they don’t care about any of you, either.”

“They’d kill us all, if they have to.” Cato agrees, giving a solid nod of her head. “They did this to her, because they thought I was involved in this war. And now we are. And we know this much. No victor, or family member, or district matters to them. We’re all expendable. And we aren’t willing to die for them, anymore. We offered to, once. We were willing to die for glory in the games..but we aren’t willing to die for them anymore.” 

Clove redirects her attention directly to the crowd. She can see faces now, people she recognizes. People she knows. 

The boy who Cato beat to go to the games, who had become a peacekeeper.

The Woman who worked with her grandmother, and came by every Tuesday to carpool with her. 

One of their peers a few years younger than them, who never even made it to the top of their classes. 

“None of us matter to Snow. Stop killing for him.” Katniss calls out, stepping forward from between them so she is more directly in the spotlight. “You hear them! They’re the best of what Two has to offer, right? We’re the same..more than you realize. District Twelve, and District Two.” 

Cato pulls Clove back, out of the light, as soon as Katniss starts her speech.

 In the same second a man steps forward and pulls the trigger of a gun directly into the chest of Katniss Everdeen. 

What happened next is a blur.

Next thing they know, they are on a plane back to Thirteen, Katniss Everdeen fighting for her life at their side. 

They, too, are sedated before they can ask too many questions. 

–

“She’s alive, you know.” Clove kicks her feet off the side of the industrial metal kitchen counter, swinging her feet all to like a child waiting for a treat. “Cato went to see her earlier. She’s alive.”

“I didn’t ask, Clove.” Peeta Mellark chimes in, brows furrowing as he works a spatula to blend the teal and white icing, creating the illusion of wave caps cresting on an ocean. “What are you even doing here?”

“You care, loverboy.” She swipes her finger in the bowl, stealing the remnants of turquoise dye and buttercream frosting. “I’m here because I haven’t seen you at all since we were rescued, and we’re now trauma bonded and all that, or whatever it is they tell Johanna in therapy.”

“I’m not loverboy, and I don’t care. She’s a monster.” He gently taps her hand with the bag of icing, but he does give her half of a smile, far less than the sunshine boy of the past but still something. “Stop sticking your fingers in there!”

“You’ll always be loverboy to us!” She taunts, but hops off the countertop anyway. “Yeah? People call me and Cato monsters too. Even monsters deserve love, Breadboy.”  Clove gives the cake a once over, with an appreciative nod. “Are you going to come to the wedding?”

He gives a quick shake of the head. “I’m not cleared for that.”

–

It felt wrong, being at a wedding so close to the bombing and destruction of their home. 

Still, Finnick and Annie were their friends. Even so..it wasn’t like they were likely to be invited to any other weddings in their lives. 

Cato and Clove sit side by side in the very back, Clove fanning herself with the flimsy paper program that had been designed to look like the waves meeting the shore. 

“This wedding is very…District Four.” Clove whispers to Cato, nodding her head towards the golden nets that are draped over the two of them. Finnick had likely made it by hand, considering tying knots had been his hobby and outlet in their long stay in thirteen. “Where did they find a bunch of kids who knew the wedding songs of that district?”

“They’re from twelve, I think.” Cato whispers back, draping his arm over her shoulder and pulling her closer, not entirely not so he could also get some of the air she was generating by fanning herself. “Annie organized the rehearsals.”

“Is that Effie Trinket?” Clove gestures towards the front, where the escort has somehow donned a large wig and a shimmering pink dress. “Why the fuck does she look so ridiculous?” “I think Katniss brought dresses back from twelve or something, that's where Annie’s is from.” Cato points out the ocean green dress the bride wears, so unlike the traditional white of the Capitol and upper districts. “Maybe that's it?”

“Will you two stop talking?” A teasing voice comes from directly in front of them, as Marvel turns around to face them. “It’s a wedding not a social hour.”

“You’re just jealous because Katniss didn’t get you a pretty dress.” Cato mocks, but does shush for the rest of the ceremony. 

It really is lovely, all things considered, working with what they have in Thirteen. 

The reception is as close to a party as possible down here under the ground, especially considering the prohibition. 

“Does it feel wrong to anyone else, that we’re having a party as the world is ending.” Marvel asks, leaning against the wall with the other victors. Cato holds Clove in front of him, with Johanna Mason on the side opposite of Marvel. 

“May as well go out with a bang.” Johanna shrugs, opening her arms with a dramatic laugh as Katniss cautiously approaches them. “Speaking of going out with a bang, there she is, a shooting survivor. You’re like a cockroach, they really just cannot kill you!”

“And considering every single one of you have tried...” Katniss nearly teases, coming to rest her back on the wall alongside Johanna. 

“I'm happy for them.” Katniss announces, giving a little nod. “They deserve it.”

“Jealous?” Clove taunts, but nudges her gently with her foot. “Loverboy is going to come around. They can’t break us all forever!”

“Why didn’t you bring me a pretty dress?” Johanna teases, gesturing towards Annie and Effie. “Maybe I wanted to be a pretty pretty princess.”

“Glimmer got the one you liked anyway. The blue one I wore in two?” Katniss points out, and as if on cue, the back doors open and in slips the girl of the hour. 

“God damn.” Johanna whispers, when the blonde girl enters in all her glory. The blue velvet falls to her feel like a river, those gorgeous bombshell curls framing her face and rolling down her shoulders like the star she is. At about her knees the dress turns from velvet to sapphire colored glitter, that catches the light as she walks heel before heel, all eyes in the room unable to look anywhere but her. There isn’t much makeup or jewelry here, but she’s never needed it. She shines regardless.  “The capitol sure did some fucked up things to her but if they did anything right, it sure is market how gorgeous she is.”

Noone pays any attention to Marvel, who’s tightened his jaw beside Cato and Clove, his entire body language stiffened at the attention of glimmer. 

She reaches them very quickly, and the joy on her face is contagious. “Thank you so much, Katniss, for letting me borrow this. The alterations aren’t permanent, I just pinned it!” 

“It looks like it was made for you,” Katniss admits when she catches her sister’s shining eyes from across the room. She would go to her soon, but for now she would play nice with her fellow victors.

“I didn’t really want to come.” Glimmer admits tucking herself in beside Cato and Johanna, opposite and far from Marvel. “It’s hard to see these things knowing you’ll never do them but.. Finnick and I have been through a lot together. I’m happy to see him so happy. He deserves it. One of us should have it!” 

“Come on, Miss Panem, let's try some of that cake. You could use it.” Johanna playfully raises her eyebrows, before linking her arm through Glimmer’s and practically leading her away. Clove notices the pins on the back of the dress, holding the fabric close to her skin. She must be terribly small, for a dress that was designed for Katniss not to fit her. 

“She’s a fucking beauty queen.” Clove agrees, unable to wipe the smile off her face at the way she simply glows in the expensive fabric. 

“Yeah…she is.” Marvel clears his throat, and pushes himself off the wall. “I need to–” 

Clove leans into Cato’s arms as she watches Marvel walk off after Glimmer, Cato pulling her attention before she can watch him reach her. 

“See, Katniss? We’re all starting to heal. Peeta will be soon.” Clove promises, noting the longing look the Mockingjay tries to hide. 

Katniss nods, but changes the subject abruptly before she could dare show emotion. “I’m going to see my little sister, I think.”

Cato shuffles, twisting Clove in his arms to face him. 

“What do you say, we go to intercept that cake before Johanna and Marvel have to fight over Glimmer.” He teases, and gently nudges her in the direction of Peeta’s great confection. 

Clove wordlessly agrees, walking hand in hand with her husband over to the sliced cake displayed on the table. Most of the guests are busy dancing to some folk-esk music, save for Annie and Finnick who had already had their first slice, and so it was Cato and Clove home free with the cake. 

They stand in the corner, one plate and two forks between them, laughing as Cato nearly misses Clove’s mouth as he tries to feed her a bite of the cake. 

“You usually have better aim than that.” Clove taunts, swiping a bit of the turquoise frosting on his nose. 

“I could say the same for you.” He catches her wrist in his free hand, and instead licks the icing right off her pointer finger. “You know I would have gone for chocolate cake, but beggars can’t be choosers.”  Cato grabs her by the face and pulls her in for a kiss, the grainy taste of buttercream lingering on their lips. 

“You know, Clove, I would have thought you and I would have done this when we got home. The whole big party..”

“You’re the one who said it, Cato. There won’t be a home for us to go back to.”

#arwbfb tag #the hunger games #clato #cato and clove #clato fanfic #clove kentwell #clove #cato hadley #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg #johanna mason #glimmer and marvel #peeeta apears #katniss appears #etc etc #love y'all

[gust-jar-simulator]

So I've been analyzing the Triforce Poly to figure out Baldur's Gate builds for fun, and honestly their fighting styles say a lot about them and really interest me.

Zelda: archery. She's thematically associated with defense, sealing, and shielding, but the most common thing we see her actually use is a bow. Shoutout to Twilight Princess Zelda, who uses a sword, but while it's probably hers it's notably when she's possessed by Ganon. I have feelings about the fact that she's an archer and the other notable tool of the goddess is a harp. Something about strings on a frame. Something about angels and smiting. Hylia DOES have a sword, but she gave it to her knight.

Link: sword and board. Skyward Sword link definitely fits the paladin archetype, you literally get back to Skyloft via prayer. Honestly though I think his devotion to Zelda would've been blasphemous if she wasn't. Y'know. The goddess incarnate. I have feelings about that. Anyway, Link does multiclass into bard notably in Ocarina of Time, but the thing about Link is that he's a hero. "Love not the sword for its sharpness, but that which it defends," etc etc. He might be a chaos gremlin who specializes in property damage, but he helps the little guy and carries groceries for grandmas in need. He wields the sword of the goddess and the shield of Hyrule. He is a divine weapon, but also the protector of Hyrule, and both of these are equally important.

Sometimes it takes awhile for him to find one or the other- you could say a lot about Skyward Sword, for example, because he Starts Off with the weapon of the goddess and develops and understanding of what that means as he goes, but he only gets the Hylian Shield after engaging with people and exploring and immersing himself in the land. In Wind Waker, he starts off with the shield of an old hero in his family, and has to basically rip the sword from the jaws of the gods with undeniable moxie. He's not a weapon of the gods, he just demands to be, because he's foremost a protector and the shield is inherently tied to his family.

Ganondorf: dual scimitars, trident. His notable scimitars have the names of his mothers carved into them, and the Spear of Power is a callback to Ganon's very first appearance and Zhu Bajie's war rake. Notably, these are melee weapons, and he uses both hands for offense. He tends to compliment his fighting style with some casting, like fireballs or lightning, and of course there's the massive fuckoff demon king transformation in several games. As far as I know he doesn't use a shield. Demise came later on, development wise, but he also uses a greatsword and lightning.

Ganondorf is a king who plays politics and can lie like a devil, but if it's to the point that he's actually personally fighting you there's no need for illusions or sugarcoating. He's a warlord and his style is hit you until you die, and he will fill both hands with pointy objects to overwhelm the opposition and make sure you stay down. Also from personal experience, fighting a dual wielder or a polearm is Fucking Terrifying. Archers are sniper fear, either they hit you or they don't, and they need time. Sword and board is somewhat predictable, if hard to actually hit. Dual wield or polearm is like picking a fight with a tornado.

Thematically speaking, the scimitars are carved with his mother's names. He wields the blades in their name, aligned with their goals, and it's a connection to his roots as the king of the Gerudo people. The spear is more connected to his nature as the heir of Power, the weapon of the Demon King. In FSA, pulling the spear from a stone is actually what transforms him from a Gerudo into the Demon King, in a sort of magical girl King Arthur situation.

Also to round it out because I think I'm funny, Vaati can use a sword but he fights you as a caster because he doesn't want to fucking touch you. He's above that. Then after his demon transformation he's just trying to swat you like a fly because he's mad.

#loz ganondorf #loz zelda #loz link

[once-upon-an-imagine]

If you are still taking dialogue request, maybe James with twin sister reader, like how she is in the “10 Things I Hate About You” series (but before she’s dating Sirius) and she gets hurt really bad during a Quidditch match as the seeker, maybe during a bad storm, and James being the dramatic and protective older brother he is freaking out while trying to take care of her? Thank you and I truly love your work!

yeees for protective!Jamie 🥺 and thank you so much for liking my work, love 😊

"Nobody touch her!" James said as he made way for Fabian and Gideon as they carried you into the Hospital Wing.

"James-"

"Don't talk! You're hurt-"

"I think I just broke my arm-"

"You're not a Healer, you don't know that!" he yelled.

"Prongs, I don't think that-" Sirius started.

"Shut up!"

"Mr. Potter! What is all this yelling?" Madam Pomfrey said, approaching all of you.

"My sister is hurt!"

"She's hurt because you made us practice in a bloody storm-!"

"Sirius, knock it off!" you told him.

"Hey, I'm actually defending you for once. How 'bout a bloody thank you, Potter?"

"You were the one that bumped into me!"

"I couldn't even see where I was going-!"

"Enough!" Madam Pomfrey yelled. "Mr. Prewetts, place Miss Potter over here, please" she instructed the two boys and they carried you to the nearest bed. "Now, if no one else is hurt, I'm going to have to ask you to leave" she said, calmly. Most of the boys left. Except for your brother and, surprisingly Sirius. And it wasn't long before Remus and Peter joined. "Alright, dear, you should be fine by the morning" Madam Pomfrey said after she finished fixing you up. "You'll just have to stay the night, just in case, alright?"

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey" you smiled, trying not to show as much pain as you were actually in. You had a broken arm, three broken ribs, bruises all over your body, and your head was killing you. "See, Jamie, I'm fine" you smiled at your brother.

"You are not fine!" James said, grabbing Remus' bag.

"What are you doing-?"

"I asked Remus to bring your things" he said, getting your books, your favorite deserts, your pillow, and a stuffed animal out.

"You could have left this in my dorm" you said grabbing the stuffed animal and putting him away.

"Aw, that's lovely, Potter" Sirius mocked you.

"Shut up, Black!" you glared at him. "Jamie, I'm fine. You should go get changed, both of you" you said, looking at Sirius. "You're both soaked, you'll catch a cold if you don't-"

"No! I'm not going anywhere!" James snapped.

"Jamie" you said, grabbing his hand. "This wasn't your fault" you told him.

"But-"

"This. Wasn't. Your. Fault." you repeated.

"B-but you're hurt" he said, sadly. "A-and I made you practice in the rain and-"

"And I'm fine. Just a couple of broken bones" you smiled. "Nothing that hasn't happened before with you as my brother" you said, and James smiled but just barely. "I'll be fine, Jamie" you assured him.

"You guys can go and get changed" Remus said. "We'll keep her company until you get back" he told James.

"Yeah, Remus also brought those board games you like" Peter told you.

"You guys are spoiling me" you laughed before looking at James again. "Go."

"Alright" he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"Of course, I do" you said. "I love you too!"

Once James left, Peter started setting up one of the board games they had brought and Remus went to get you a cup of tea. And you turned to look at Sirius, who hadn't moved.

"May I help you, Black?"

"Uh, you sure you're okay? That was a nasty fall-"

"Aw. Were you worriefd about me or something?" you smirked, making Sirius roll his eyes.

"Shut up, Potter" he chuckled. "I'm just... glad you didn't die, I guess" he muttered, looking away.

"Charming" you smiled and he sighed before he started walking out.

"Well, you're clearly fine so-"

"Hey, Black?" you called and he turned to look at you. "Thanks... for sort of... catching me" you told him.

"You're welcome, Potter" he smiled.

#marauders #marauders imagine #james potter #sirius black #james potter imagine #sirius black imagine #james potter x sister!reader #sirius black x reader #james potter dialogue #sirius black dialoue

[floralovebot]

Yknow, I may be beating a dead horse here, but I really hate it when people think Helia was the one in the wrong in the Shaab Stone arc in the comics. And listen, I know what this sounds like - I'm not saying he did nothing wrong just because he's my special blorbo. I'm saying it because he genuinely wasn't in the wrong here.

I think a lot of people immediately assume Riven's right and Helia's wrong because Riven's heart was in the right place. He wasn't acting out to be a dick; everything he did was done with the intention of doing the right thing. Which, compared to the first season, is a huge leap for Riven, especially on missions. He used to goad Sky and the others a lot, and then there was the entire escapade with Darcy. So for Riven to be So Confident about doing the Right thing, it comes off as him genuinely being correct and Helia being completely wrong, especially when the mission goes south.

But like,,, the thing is,,, the mission literally only went south because of what Riven did. That's not to say that he was Morally Wrong because he wasn't. But he was stubborn and impulsive. He wasn't thinking about the consequences or how likely they actually would've succeeded against the bad guys, he was thinking about wanting to stop them and that's it. Helia was right about them being outnumbered and overpowered, and he was right about them needing backup (the thing that literally saved Riven and Timmy when they got caught). But Riven was so consumed with wanting to act Now that he didn't stop to think about how it actually would've played out.

And I think the most important thing in this discussion, is that Riven didn't hate Helia. He still disliked and didn't trust Sky and was using Helia as a scapegoat. Literally everything he says to and about Helia is just everything he's been thinking and saying about Sky. And that's not because Sky and Helia are the same, it's because they're in similar enough positions that Riven feels uneasy about it. Like of course he doesn't trust Helia at first! He's the grandson of the headmaster and that same headmaster made him the leader of a mission when he's never been the leader with them before. It's pretty natural that Riven wouldn't immediately be on board with that.

But again, Riven didn't hate Helia for any reason that Helia himself caused. It was all about hating nepotism and classism and thinking that Helia was going to be another Sky. And it really didn't help that besides Flora, Sky was the Only person actually defending Helia.

I think it's really important to take note of how Riven treats and thinks of Helia after they make up. Riven is able to put all of it behind him and starts to genuinely respect Helia's thoughts. That would not have happened if Helia was the one who made the mistake. And I think that's clear in how Riven thinks of Sky after they "make up". Sky never apologizes for his actions nor does he ever take the blame for anything that happened with Riven. And Riven knows this!! If Helia had made such a big mistake and then never apologized for it, Riven wouldn't be as chill with him as he is later on. This is also pretty evident in how Riven starts to really like Timmy and respect him as a specialist - Timmy never did anything to him.

Ik this is a pretty small thing but the Shaab Stone arc is such good material for Rivelia as friends and as individuals. It says a lot about both of them! Riven just wants to do the right thing but he can get really impulsive about doing it. Helia wants to do the right thing but hates conflict and refuses to communicate properly with his team. They're both able to understand why the other acted the way they did and start to actually like and respect each other afterward.

It's just... good intentions do not equal good actions. Riven himself is able to admit this and he gets a lot better about thinking of an actual plan and not just rushing head first into things later on in the series. Riven's growth as a specialist and teammate is super important as it directly ties into his growth as a person! Idk it just really bothers me when people look at Riven being a stubborn and impulsive specialist and think that's Good. Even in a fictional setting, a military soldier acting like that is not a Cool Thing. And in this fictional character analysis setting, it's a very literal example of Riven needing to grow as a person (ie needing to trust others, needing to slow down and think for a minute, needing to communicate properly Without acting like a dick about it).

(I didn't know how to fit this in but the only mistake Helia makes is how he communicates with the specialists. He's a good leader and he knew what to do, but he wasn't good at expressing it or trying to quell their valid concerns. But in terms of the actual mission itself, he did fine and it would've worked out if Riven hadn't acted too soon and on his own. This was 100% a moment of them learning how to be better teammates and how to trust one another more.)

#AND LISTEN y'all know i'm very up the Helia Makes A Lot Of Mistakes chimney #because he does and it bothers me even more when people think he never does anything wrong #but this? this was not on him!! #this was on riven not trusting them and acting on his own without thinking of a proper plan #like its literally said later on that riven realized what helia was doing and decided to help him!! and he had an actual plan this time!! #i think its also super important that helia never blames riven or gets mad at him for this #it would be easy for him too but he doesnt because he understands where riven is coming from and Why he didn't trust him #this is a big reason why i always point to this arc for them!! #but idk its just weird to me when people think helia made the mistake when it was riven's actions that got them in trouble #again riven's heart was in the right place and that's super important #but he was also being extremely impulsive !! he didn't have a plan and he didn't have the power to actually take them down! #literally the Only reason helia had them wait for backup is because they were outnumbered and overpowered #and riven made the decision to go in with Just him and timmy like bro 😭 #i know y'all are in love with riven i am too but cmon man 😭 #winx riven #winx helia #mine.metas #long post #also to clarify im not trying to shit on riven or bring him down but this issue wasnt him being in the Right #this was literally him needing to learn how to communicate properly and respectfully #and learning how to trust others even when he doesn't agree with them

[starrbar]

Isn't it funny how when rad-antis do their cute little "PSA" thing, and their target tries to defend/explain themself, the ones doing the callouts take common, true, scientifically-backed statements and call them "red flags"?

I've seen so many posts going "Oh god guys, we'd better watch out for this dangerous person. 😨" and their evidence is just a screenshot of the "Fiction doesn't equal reality" bullet on their profile/Carrd, or a similar statement in a rebuttal against claims that they're a Literal Child Rapist™ because of their Pixiv bookmarks.

Like, "how DARE you say the most obvious response to the garbage I'm spewing that's been debunked time and time again?" Next, they'll be saying that citing doctors and professionals to back up their points is a "red flag". xD (I don't remember the exact wordings, but I 99% sure I've actually seen one of them say something like that.)

And okay... to play devil's advocate, this makes sense when you consider, for example, how phrases like "free speech" and "anti censorship" mean very different things coming from a Conservative vs. a Progressive, and those are also simple concepts that I think should be supported for their true meanings, but it still looks quite ridiculous when you start saying that phrases like "anti-harassment" and "fiction ≠ reality 1:1" are "proship dogwhistles", as if there is no context in which those statements have any merit.

(and then I started ranting)

❝ No, of course, only CHILD PREDATORS think that abusing and bullying people is wrong, because the ONLY time anybody ever gets bullied is when they've done something to DESERVE it, right?? There are no people on this earth who hurt innocents. Justice is always served. Therefore, "anti-harassment" is a pro-abuser stance! ❞ /s

❝ And obviously "fiction ≠ reality" is always code for "I just really like Stonetoss comics and drawing porn of child actors, but those are just pictures, so they don't mean anything!" It's definitely not like many people who make the former statement would immediately recoil in disgust and block anyone who uses it that way. Nah, we're all just secret predators who formed a club where we worship sexual abuse and bigotry. ❞ /sss

See, that, up there, is why I've started specifically referring to "radical antis" because they ACTUALLY embody these extreme stances, and they have repeatedly blown my mind with how exaggerated they can be, but they're 100% serious.

If you're an anti and the above obnoxious strawman doesn't apply to you, you may very well be just fine. But I'm really just tired of essentialist dickheads spear-heading one harassment campaign after another in the name of "reducing harm", and sadly those people take your genuine beliefs and warp them to create those situations.

I'm sorry you have to be associated with them tbh! /gen

I genuinely don't know how things ended up like this, but unfortunately there are people with genuine, valid concerns about fiction's affect on reality who aren't being taken seriously because a bunch of abusers take those concerns and mangle them until they're unrecognizable, probably on purpose so they can justify torturing other people for fun.

Sad day for survivors all across the board, huh? :/

#anti vs. pro stuff #rant #fandom discourse #shipping discourse #peacefic #neutralship #neufic #neuship #starrspeaks #profic #proship #Idk I guess I'll use all the tags unless I'm being super critical of proshippers in the post?? #ehehe extra sarcasm tone tags look like snake sounds

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

I’m sorry but you guys give D&D way too much credit. You really think these idiots went “ok so we’re gonna make Dany leave her hair up and Jon too so people can see their sex is a service and not love.” This is D&D we’re talking about.

Hi, Anon.

Well, short answer: Yes, I do think they did that.

1) when speaking on the GoT commentary, Dan was notoriously obsessed with the tiniest details (which to GA would have seemed inane and not worth their time), to the point where even David would tease him about it. Dan was also the one that allegedly got upset about 8x03's airing and being so dark.

2) Have you seen behind the scenes of the Dany and Sansa scene in 8x02? D&D were directing Emilia on how to gesture to Sansa to sit, even though David Nutter was the credited director of the episode. This once again, goes in line with the point above.

3) D&D were the ones to convince GRRM to do a show in the first place. He had turned down offers before that. The story is infamous at this point, and GRRM confirmed that one of the reasons he agreed to their pitch is because they had guessed who Jon's real mother was, after going back over the books.

4) They had crew working for them that played into the details like the hair being left up or down. Sophie Turner confirmed that Sansa's hairstyles usually echoed who she was learning from and/or channeling. If you look, you can see at one point in the series for each queen who Sansa learned from/was channeling. Season 8 has Dany-style hair for Sansa even. Michele Clapton, the costume designer, has confirmed that not only did she put little clues into the costumes as much as she could, but that the crew did these types of things knowing full well that people would go back and rewatch the series over and over again, and their goal was for the viewer to find something new each time (a la the books).

5) The show utilized different storytelling devices that many television shows and films use, across the board. That includes different shots and angles, framing, panning, set dec, props, music cues, lighting, costuming, blocking (like when Dany is moved away from fire), actors' performances/notes, editing, and of course, the dialogue/writing. Each one of these examples is present over the course of the series.

Look, I'm not saying that D&D didn't screw things up in the end nor am I defending them nor am I calling them as geniuses, but they both did do some decent work as showrunners at some points during the show. I don't think they were stupid as much as I think their egos grew too massive and got in the way. They literally rushed the last season so they could go make Star Wars which lol they didn't even do. They had started pulling their celebrity friends in for cameos (that had nothing to do with the show or industry at all, I think one of them was an NFL player iirc), and even put themselves into the show (in 8x04 as the widlings Tormund is boasting about Jon to). Some might say, well Taylor Sheridan put himself into Yellowstone or 1883, and they would be right. But the difference is, the characters he embodied worked with the story, and he was an actor before being this highly successful writer. These two simply put themselves into the show because they wanted to be immortalized in this series (and they chose the feast scene of all scenes to do it) and did it in the last season because that's what they were doing with all of their celebrity friend cameos. Getting it in as a last hurrah. Massive. Egos.

So to go back to your point, Anon, yes, I do think they did that to show that Jon was simply giving Dany what she wanted. When you break down the boat sex scene, it's pretty easy to spot what they did there. They are still in the Queen Dany and Bent-the-knee Jon here. Same as in this scene:

If they were in love or just having really great sex but bonding then we would have seen Dany like this:

Or Jon like this:

Especially when you compare it to Dany's love scene with Drogo where she takes control, the seduction scene with Daario where she takes control, and then her pillow talk scene with Daario (photo above).

So yes, Anon, I don't feel that we're giving them too much credit. I do think they absolutely kept in mind that people were going to rewatch the series and find new clues each time, just like they themselves used to do with GRRM's books. Listen, they screwed up in a lot of ways, but as for what they showed with Jon and Daenerys in that boat scene, I don't think they did.

Hope you have a great rest of your day!

#ask #ask answered #got #game of thrones #d&d critical #due to ask #antijonerys #anti jonerys #slightly

[rachelillustrates]

Okay FINE time for another deep dive.

"Act of Grace" time.

Get your tissues everyone and buckle up, this is a LONG one.

- I don't usually watch the recaps cause I'm eager for the story, but I did this time, and they way the framed Jack's "Who's the Big Gal?" comment at Stede showed both him and Ed laughing after and that's it. Not Ed brushing it off, crappily apologizing. So that drives home to me that we ARE supposed to be aware of how very not okay it is that Ed didn't step up to defend Stede against Jack's behavior.

- I'm sure I could do a full-on character analysis of why each of the crew members responds to Chauncey the way the do, but for now just let me say that I love all of them and that Frenchie and the Swede have my heart here, in their solidarity over how badass Frenchie's original cat flag is and pretending to not speak English. Pffffft.

- I think the juxtaposition between how Ed handled taking over Stede's ship, and how Chauncey does, is REAL DAMN interesting. Both Ed, pirate, and Chauncey, lawful government-endorsed asshole, take command immediately. But while Ed respects Stede's space, choosing to still let him take the lead around his cabin after he is healed enough to wake up, Chauncey commandeers it immediately, taking Stede's desk and everything else for his own. Which, obviously a power play, and obviously Ed's choices were impacted by what he seemed to want from Stede, both subconsciously and consciously. But that stands to show even more, Chauncey is operating under entirely different motivations, yes, but also the worldview of the conquering British. Everything is his, now - Stede and all his possessions, including the crew, are literally possessions to him. Things to control and move about as he pleases. And this is extra extra interesting in the face of how Ed acts later, when he does take control of Stede's space more like this. He gets rid of everything, yes, but he also goes through the motions of technically asking Jim to join his crew, talking to Frenchie about his usefulness instead of just interrogating him (that's still at gunpoint, of course, but the intention seems different, or at least he's making it look different on the surface). Just more subtle differences, even in that, about how the different "classes," or lifestyles, go about this circumstance.

- As much as Frenchie's failed attempt at espionage is both heartbreaking and hysterical, it is also SO STUPIDLY SWEET that Pete and Lucius trust him without hesitation to do it, and Roach is on board 100%, again without hesitation, to help - putting himself in danger in the process. GAWD. THIS CREW. THEY ARE ALREADY A FAMILY NOW 😭

- SUCH INTERESTING CHOICES in what was actually written in Stede's journal about Nigel's demise:

"AVAST YE!" I snapped. The smell of death permeated the room, electric in its tang.

"P-p-p-please don't kill me!" Nigel whined, having soiled himself.

Soooooo either Stede wrote that himself (unlikely, since he has Lucius record everything for him), or Lucius did, and in that case, who was in control of the level of embellishment going on there? Did Stede dictate that exactly, in trying to reclaim the situation, even though he wasn't okay with being a murderer? Or did Lucius add that himself, to sell the idea that Stede did it on purpose? Which honestly seems REAL possible with how clearly enraged he was over how Nigel treated Stede at the dinner, with the stories about the childhood bullying.

Also one of you guys is a great writer and should be telling stories, not just pirating.

....which also makes me feel like maybe it was Stede after all, since he reads to them and spun his own ghost stories. Hmm.

- Also a) I love Ed SO FUCKING MUCH. B) the "you all look the same" comment at the white, upper class people is just YES, especially since many of us (myself included) didn't realize that the officers with Chauncey are the same ones that they took hostage from Nigel's ship in episode 1!! And c) .....of course he tries to take the blame for it, sparing Stede since he's probably in for execution anyway thanks to his already existing crimes, but ...Gods. We find out, later, that he plans on trying to find a way out (he tells Stede so right after the verdict is passed). BUT STILL. Ugh. It's so good and yeah fine unhealthy or something but SO GOOD.

- I didn't think about it the first (....five or six) times watching, but Chauncey gets Stede to confess not just by telling him that Ed confessed, but by reminding him he's a "weak hearted, lily livered little rich boy," and I think that this is really where Stede and Ed's motivations begin to diverge, not just when he finds out that Mary reported him dead (and even with them coming back together, albeit briefly, with the kiss).

Coming back, Ed's focus had been and continues to be getting Stede out of trouble (himself as well, but as he put himself in trouble in order to get to Stede, that seems automatically secondary). Here, Stede is reminded - has already been reminded, by having a Nigel flashback by way of Chauncey's presence - of what he appears to be, what everyone thinks of him. That patheticness. And the only path out of it is to take responsibility for what happened.

That is character growth, for sure, since he usually runs away from things - and it does save Ed from being condemned for Stede's sake, as well (added bonus, which I'm sure he cares about, though his primary motivation is to stand up against the usual bullying he gets from his former peers, and prove them wrong by making things right). He has to lie, technically, in order to do it, but I think that he knows that the details wouldn't matter to Chauncey. He may as well have stolen his sword and stabbed him in the head himself, for all that Chauncey cares. So that feels like a path of least resistance thing. And as much as he looks bewildered, but honest when he responds to Ed's confession with "That's not true," and confidently yeah-WHAT-you-motherfucker determined when he then confesses to Chauncey, he immediately breaks down after.

We haven't seen him worry about Nigel's fate since episode two, basically, but even more so since Ed happened. So has he still been feeling conflicted, all this time, and just able to distract himself from it because of all the exciting/confusing new feelings he has? I think that's likely, especially since we JUST saw him go through feelings of inadequacy in the atmosphere of Jack's visit and the bond he appeared to have with Ed. Which would set him up perfectly for all of that to surface again in this moment. Yes, Ed came back - chose him - but if he's really a lily livered little rich boy, how long is that going to last? And he doesn't want Ed to take responsibility for his crimes, sure. But even more than that, he is done being told he isn't worth this life he's chosen. So he lies, and shows Chauncey that is IS, in the only way he can.

Which, as I said before, diverges from Ed's motivations. Stede is focused in taking responsibility, proving himself, even if it means his death. Ed is focused on surviving long enough to get them the fuck out of there. And they do talk about that, right after Stede's sentence is announced, but the impact of it I think is way less obvious than Stede freaking out about his family thinking he's dead, later. I think this division plants the seed for everything that's coming.

- Also, when the scene switches and we see the soldiers practicing their shot - Stede notices, while Ed is focused on Chauncey and not worried about the threat of violence behind them. Further subtle evidence that he was already working on some kind of plan.

- Of course all of that goes out the window, at least a bit, when it's revealed that Izzy's payment for giving up Stede (giving THEM up, as Ed points out) is that Ed is now in Izzy's custody. And it's been pointed out before in other meta that that's putting a POC under the control of a white guy. So, that hits really hard if you think about it, and makes the punch later even more deserved.

- I appreciate SO MUCH that Officer Hornberry continues to look uncomfortable, as Chauncey declares Ed's fate. They were practically bros and he still cares!

- I appreciate even more that when one of the soldiers tries to separate Ed from Stede, after that declaration, he does fight against it a bit!! As he's telling him they'll find a way out.

(Though Ed, honey, what the hell were you gonna do, with them literally taking Stede to the firing line that moment?)

Well actually, he is still thinking the whole time leading up to him shouting "Act of Grace!!" as the solution - looking desperately panicked more and more as the moments tick on and Stede begs for his life. After he punches Izzy, he's not even listening to his explanations (GOOD). He is calculating, and he can't see any way out. It doesn't look to me like he thinks of the Act of Grace in that moment in particular - he must have thought of it earlier, maybe when he was in the brig still, and discarded it because working for the crown no thank you. BUT with the love of his life (as much as I don't think he realizes that detail yet either, more on that later) pleading in the background, his certain death and permanent removal from the world, from Edward, imminent, he has nothing else. If he wants to save him, he has to do this. Which is why I think there's so much frantic desperation in the way he yells it. This is the shittiest option he could think of, ever, probably - "We'd rather eat our own faces, but yes."

But yes.

And he HAS to do it that way. He knows, somehow, that Stede doesn't know about the Act of Grace. So to get his attention, and everyone else's, he HAS to shout it first. Offer himself up, first.

Plus, as far as he knows, that will keep them together. If he had been able to communicate to Stede to say it just himself, they would have taken him away to the Privateering Academy alone, while he was carted off by Izzy. Literally the only solution, if he is to get what he wants.

- Also, him still standing in front of and protecting Stede as Chauncey tries to get them to still fire.

- ALSO also, literally the whole crew standing up for Stede and proving he is a real pirate!!! AAAAH! This whole moment ❤️ As much as the kiss is the first of two climaxes that we've been heading towards with him and Ed, this is absolutely the culmination of his journey with the crew, and it's perfect. Especially when they finish "Talk it through - as a crew," and the look on his face makes it clear he didn't expect them to!

- Before that resolution, though, they do make a point of showing us that Ed is uncomfortable with the choice he had to make. A lot is going on here, and they chose to cut away from the officers when they say "Blackbeard renounces piracy to serve the crown? We'll be dining with Ol' King George himself." So, spending precious time on Ed processing, really starting to face what he just did, that's significant.

And he only snaps out of that when Stede mentions his people positive management style in response to Chauncey being all WTF everyone???! at their loyalty to him. And he softens, and drifts back towards him, looking a bit curious.

I wonder, then, if it's really starting to hit him here that the level of his affection for Stede runs a LOT deeper than having a crush on him. Yeah, they're romantic, and he knows they're heading in that direction, but how deep was he gonna get into it, before, even with being sure that Stede likes him back? It didn't necessarily have to be a serious thing. He could, maybe, choose to take it casual like his previous dalliances. Keep his heart protected by not getting in too deep, still.

But now he's really, really chosen him. And he hears him say that, sees his crew support and believe in him on a level that they never have before.

Fuck it. I think this is where he starts realizing it's love. Like LOVE love.

- Which of course leads into the scene where they actually sign the document.

(Have I mentioned how much I adore all the bridal/wedding imagery in this whole situation? Cause I do. It's impeccable.)

Obviously the banter at the beginning of it is SO funny and adorable. But what's striking me now, of course, is that even though we saw that moment of "oh shit look what I did" before, NOW? Now he tells Stede "I know I don't" (have to) without reservation, and he wouldn't have hesitated at all if it weren't for Izzy being like "Think about what you're dOiNg!!!" And even then, he pushes right forward without having to stop and think about it. He looks resigned, yes, but accepting. This is what he has to do.

- This time through I am also finding myself more "Huh" about the fact that Stede doesn't seem more distraught yet that Ed is signing his life away for him, even with my observations earlier, BUT that's well taken care of by the fact that while they're waiting in line to sign into the Academy, he asks Ed what the escape plan is. It's the first thing we see him say to him since they signed the Act of Grace (obviously I'm sure they talked more off screen, but this is what we're shown). So, again, masterfully done. He's not worried, not really processing the weight of what Ed's done for him (yet) since he believes they're gonna throw some kind of fuckery and be free again soon.

Which underscores what Stede has to let go of in order to be with Ed, for just Ed. As much as he's falling in love with who Ed really is, even he gets caught up in the drama and grandeur of Blackbeard, expecting him to have something worked out - which overshadows, at least here, how perceptive he usually is about how tired Ed is of all of it.

(Which is really interesting juxtaposed against that earlier, when Ed WAS working on a way out for them, Stede chose to try and accept his fate. Very interesting parallel with both these situations being back to back!)

- Also pffffft at the Academy being like "Whatever, we'll take you" when a dead man shows up.

- It's also interesting that they chose to give us that flash of Stede sitting happily with his family at the dinner table here, as he's starting to spiral about this very dramatic consequence of his choices. When we first saw that in the first episode - since it was shown after a similar flashback in which he was separated from them, with Mary choosing to ignore him - I assumed that it was a figment of his imagination. That that's what he imagines it could have been like. I feel like that's gotta be the case here, too.

- AND THEN THE NOBEARD SCENE, aka Massive Miscommunication part 1.

Firstly, I very much hope that Stede makes up for yelping at the beardless appearance of Ed in the future and makes him understand that he's still beautiful to his eyes. Gods. Ouch.

And lucky for him, Ed does understand on some level that he's reeling, and confused, as much as he does not engage with him at all on the worries he'd been expressing before he looked over at him. So he doesn't react to his reacting. But he DOES react to Stede absolutely missing the point - the LOOK he gives him when he says "But you're Blackbeard! You can't be Blackbeard without your black beard." That, and what he says after - "Come on mate. That's all over. It was over years ago." And the even darker look he gives him when he brings up the fake heads idea. He looks SO frustrated, and understandably so - up until now, Stede had shown so much evidence of understanding how tired he is, how done he's been with the life he'd been living. Maybe he himself confused the issue a bit by planning on leaving in "This is Happening" before Lucius clued him in to their mutual affection. But still, he thought Stede saw, and understood.

And I think Stede still does, of course, if he looks past that. What we see in the montage where he realizes he and Ed are in love proves that he sees Ed for who he is, really. But on the heels of everything that happened with Jack, the enormity of what he thinks Ed's giving up if they don't try to escape, his own belief that he isn't worthy of Ed because of how amazing Ed seems, how larger than life, still, all of that validated by finding out that his family reacted to his abandonment by legally killing him... he can't hear it, right now.

So he does run from it, processing that and processing his "death," unable to communicate with Ed and accept what he's saying.

And then Ed looks so sad and resigned, accepting that this doesn't seem good enough for Stede - he doesn't seem good enough for Stede, Stede can't accept that they've ended up here (even after everything Ed gave up for him). But... he's still here. He's still trying.

- BUT first!! (Since that thought obviously leads into the beach scene) We get to see how the crew is faring under Izzy - which implies that Stede's ship, and Stede's crew, were part of the deal with Chauncey too. After all, Chauncey does refer to him as Captain Hands at the trial. So, the crew are still there. Likely to be abused by Izzy, from the bit they show us here. But I don't think they would blame Stede for it, since they helped Ed save him by encouraging the Act of Grace and then using his journal and the plant to prove his real pirateyness. Only to likely see them both get carted off by the English immediately, which was not under their control. I think that was understood (and I wish we'd gotten their goodbye scene. Sad face).

(Also its super duper interesting that Izzy has taken the ship after all and is trying to move on. This is the only moment since Ed convinced him, after the Lighthouse fuckery, that he's still "got it" and is still the Blackbeard he pines for, that we see him accept Ed's choice - stop fighting for something Ed clearly doesn't want - and go on without him. So. Hmm.)

(I have no idea what to do with Izzy on a good day so I'm just gonna leave that there.)

- AND THEN AND THEN AND THEN AND THEN AND THEN the beach 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Which starts with Stede refocused on his family, remembering having fun with his children, Mary not understanding him, and then finally standing alone on the Revenge right after he left. Which reads, to me, like looking back to try to piece together how he ended up here, from there.

BUT!! Then Ed finds him - "There you are" - having clearly been looking for him for a while. And he sits, and tells Stede that the fake heads idea wasn't bad, with the most charmed, amused, fond smile on his face. Which to me, means that he has used the time since Stede ran off to think about what just happened, remember that he's panicking, and then choose to find him and keep trying to make this work. And when Stede turns his flirting into self-deprecation, he tells him to shut up, not having it.

And Stede finally, finally asks him how he's okay with all of this. And Ed gets to reestablish what Stede is acting like he's forgotten - that he is tired of the life.

"I just wanna do what makes Ed happy."

To which Stede goes into Freaking Adorable Mode - GODS his body language here - shifting focus and intention immediately to what Ed needs, in the same sweet way of, say, bringing him perfectly made tea or planning a treasure hunt for him. "And what makes Ed happy?"

To which Ed answers that he's been literally having the time of his life these past few weeks (Stede's expression at that, like he's so flattered and half can't believe it's true. AAAAAH).

And as Ed shares that, I feel like two things are happening - he's finally realizing that yes, this is what he wants, not just the vague idea of staying together however that was gonna look, and maybe there'd be physical stuff too, but still holding him at arm's length if he HAD to, not giving over his entire heart to him. But Stede really does fill his life and encourage him to be himself, his best self, and he wants so much more with him. Has so much more with him, already. Love, really (even if he wouldn't put that word on it yet. Though I think he would, especially after the heartbreak later - unless he goes into denial mode, I guess we'll see). And secondly, I think he's having to rapid fire decide exactly how much to reveal to Stede. BUT as he's saying it, explaining how much fun he's had with him, he realizes there's no going back (so 3 things happening, then). For him, now that he knows, he can't not do something about it. He can't not tell him, the only way he knows how. With the words he already has (how often do you think this man has genuinely been told "I love you" in his life? Yeah) and touch (which we've already seen, over and over, as his way of expressing affection).

"I reckon what makes Ed happy is... you..."

So Stede reacts, eyebrows flying up and getting a bit blushy and tripping over his words a bit, and smiling. And Ed watches that, sees it for the good sign it is - and fucking goes for it.

❤️🎉❤️

(I will forever be unhinged about the fact that this scene was supposed to take place at the base of a lighthouse, btw.)

And yes, it's a little awkward at first, but they ease into it and it's just SO tender and lovely. Especially Ed's caution, not fully leaning into it himself until he feels Stede kiss him back (pretty sure that Stede grabs his arms, too, around the elbows. I wish we could see. That seems like an important detail).

It's just. ... gods. So earnest. So very perfect.

And at "You make Stede happy" (and the fucking kiss-delirious bliss on his face there!!) Ed just smiles so sweetly, so surely back. For one moment, neither of them is doubting. They care about each other this much, like this, and there's no misunderstanding about the base level of that affection (even if Stede doesn't get that its love yet). They're made equal by the fact that the trappings of their costumes - Blackbeard's leathers, Stede hiding behind all of his frills (as much as I hope he reclaims his fashion sense in season 2). We're given Gnossienne 5 again, which always plays whey they're heading toward each other in a good way. And, again, this was supposed to be in front of a lighthouse.

That matters, in the intention.

As much as things get super muddy moving forward, as much hurt is coming, this was still pure and true, first.

And then, Ed goes immediately back into planning mode, suggesting escape. "Maybe we could just get away? Start over, reset." And.... I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Obviously a big part of his motivation is that Stede expected an escape and adventure from him, BUT Ed also just established that with Stede making him happy, it doesn't matter where they are. Yes, he was looking for a calm life, to just be, for now, but I feel like him suggesting that they run away is him trying to find a middle ground between Stede's expectations and the chill that he expressed he wants. He doesn't suggest that they go and fight the British, he suggests they run off, and start over. Basically, a little bit of both. And that's actually a good thing.

But, of course, this new path - excitement, the fact that Stede wants him too - is distracting, and he reacts much as he did when the nostalgia of Jack's presence kept him from seeing certain things, and doesn't click into the fact that Stede was still processing, spiraling out, about his family. Even so much as to say to him "Our old lives would be gone. Dead. Never were."

So, Massive Miscommunication part 2.

I do find it hopeful that a) it is clear that the trouble here started after their affection. So at least they had that moment where they did get to just enjoy this step forward - Ed knowing what it means, and Stede just being delighted and blown away. And b) what Stede thinks of in reaction to Ed's propsotion is that moment where Mary said "We only have this one life." So yes, he is thinking about his family again, BUT he knows she was talking about being happy, seizing what happiness they could. So I think that was (as always) a very purposeful choice, both complicated (since he's still bogged down by that baggage) AND positive.

I could go on.... a lot, about how even with it being important that they both grow as people, there is no reason they can't do that together, if they acknowledge that they both have work to do. That's not where the story took them, sure, but they've been getting better, becoming more full versions of themselves due to each other's influence, this whole time. As long as they can be honest with each other and open about what they're feeling, they (and anybody else) have a great shot at still making it even though they have a lot to work through as individuals.

Buuuuuuut of course, that communication isn't there, and that's the problem. Stede doesn't verbalize his panic about his family, after having been derailed from it by his panic over Ed, and Ed can't see that (plus, it's Stede's responsibility to ask for what he needs. He is so crap at talking it through after all istg). So once again, they're heading forward from very different perspectives and motivations.

Still, there is hope and love in the way Stede answers Ed. There's that pause - him considering, his guilt, but also the fact that they only have this one life and deserve happiness - and Ed deflates, expecting rejection again despite the fact that Stede kissed him back. But not pulling away, not letting go of his hand. And Stede's expression and tone in saying "Yeah," finally, are very much a "fuck it" kind of acceptance and resignation, which I mean as a good thing (and really echoes the tone Ed had when he signed the Act of Grace, imo). He can't imagine a reality, right now, in which he gets closure around his family AND still gets to follow Ed. But he wasn't lying - Ed makes him happy. And he knows, at least, that he wants that.

So - "Yeah." And we're focused on Ed here, his manic delight at Stede agreeing to run away with him, so it's harder to catch Stede's expressions. But he is smiling, both before he says "I think so" and the "Mm-hmm." So he is on board, he does want this, even though that surety comes crashing down as soon as Ed starts talking about figuring out the details and tells him to think of new names, and then leaves him there to go arrange everything.

As soon as he's alone again, the weight of it all starts to hit him, he starts sliding back into his confusion and panic over what his family's done about him, all the very massive change that's happened in just a few days. Setting the stage for what's coming.

- Meanwhile, poor Olu. .....but I would have voted for him too 🤷‍♀️

- Ed's excited soft grin and "Hey!" when he looks at Stede and gets his attention to tell him what the plan is make me believe in love all over again every time. Jesus.

- Also, Stede wasn't sleeping yet, so likely a combination of trying not to spiral and waiting for Ed to show up with details. AND he sounds concerned when Ed says he'll meet him there, and goes to head off. He is ready to bolt already - not cause he doesn't want to go, because the too-much of everything is just ...well, too much. So a) no wonder, even on top of his usual instincts, that he runs at what happens in the woods. And b) how would things have been different if Ed hadn't split off from him in order to get the plan together? If he had stayed, now, and they went and got the dinghy together later?

(Obviously impossible with where they're both at, at the moment, but I still loooooong for it.)

- I actually really appreciate both from a self care standpoint and a storytelling standpoint that we figure out what's happening to Stede as he does. We see him sleeping, trying for the rest Ed told him to get, and then the barrel of the gun appears against his face. So we're processing that the same time he is, before they show us Chauncey. And that's probably the gentlest, kindest thing they could have done for us as viewers.

- Also, up until Chauncey starts the litany of monster-qualities, Stede is trying to help him through this as much as he wants to survive it. "Take if from a man with regrets..." "Just breathe." As much as I've been throwing a small tantrum about his inability to communicate, he is just, SO good with people in pain. Even when they've literally come to kill him, and thus potentially at the expense of his own life. I just.... UGH I love him and Ed both SO MUCH and even as a demisexual Sapphic cis woman I have never related to a character more than I relate to Stede Bonnet. Fuck.

(Also that point raises the question of how come Izzy's the exception? Cause Izzy's pain is not a secret if you think about it - BUT I think the difference is that Izzy has literally been bullying him, aggressing at him one way or another, since the moment they met, and shows no intention of stopping. Also, the damage he represents about Ed's trauma, and how he treats Ed himself, and the crew. Also also, with Chauncey, he feels responsible for it. So.)

- As for the visual montage of those monstrous traits, we get the shot of Nigel's corpse that we've been getting this whole time. Then his family sitting for that painting (excellently placed since we needed to remember that for when he sees it next episode, but also, he ruined the picture perfect family image they were supposed to present together, so that hits on both what they went through, AND how he failed society by leaving). And then Ed. The moment he saw him without his beard in the barracks, and had to face that (at that point) there was no escape plan. Ed truly is abandoning Blackbeard, his whole adventurous life, for him. Even in the face of the plan they have now, that still shakes him so much, and Chauncey is lumping it together with his abandonment of his family and the murder he's taking responsibility for. Chauncey - both as a supposed victim of Stede himself, and a representative of the society, people he grew up in/around - is telling him that he may as well have murdered Ed.

And then Chauncey advances, and Stede's gonna let him do it - tells him he agrees. Already thinking that Ed is better off without him. That finding him dead in the woods, that never finding out what happened to him at all, maybe, is better than joining him and keeping him from being who he thinks he must still want to be.

So yes. The gunshot. The trauma, and the startled panic in the face of that violence and what he's choosing to believe about himself. And he flees.

- Holding a moment of silence for Ed's waiting on the dock, here. A more tragic vigil 😭

- That said, the parallel of them both being without the other, now, and feeling like they don't deserve the other.... yeah. Stede believes Ed cares for him and wants him to be there, but he shouldn't want that, because he's ruined him. Ed believes Stede has rejected him, so deep in his self loathing at the sight of the empty dock that he can't even consider that Stede could have gotten in trouble. He's a monster, of course Stede changed his mind. Though.... he does wait, and that is a hopeful action, even though it comes to nothing.

(Continuing to grasp at every grain of hope they give us until season 2 hits. Dying on this hill.)

- Also forever grateful for the Izzy mutiny scene. Omfg. Pete jumping on board immediately. Olu choosing violence, and letting the rest of them choose violence. That Ivan and Fang were 8,000% on board too. And how everything needle-scratch screeches to a halt when Ed appears, at the confusion of him being there and the look of him. That he himself came back there, in the first place. Probably knowing that Izzy was there and he could get him to do what he wanted, in his grief (at this point, anyway). Not wanting to go back to the Queen Anne, the shell of his old life, where no sense or comfort of Stede remained. As much as he's hurting, he doesn't want to pretend it didn't happen. And that's.... Jeez.

- Meanwhile, Stede looks so confused as he opens the door to his house and steps inside. Meaning, I think, that he ran without even thinking about what he was doing or where he was going and just ended up there. And we don't see much of his expression when he says "Darling, I'm home" to Mary - we see hers, she is reacting with shock and obviously not in a good way, which leads excellently into what they give us of her in the next episode. But what we do see of Stede, even though we're not focused on him.... I think he looks mildly amused. Like "Oh, okay. I'm here. Maybe this means I can fix things, by being here like I never left. And my family will be happy. And Ed will be safe from me."

Short break to chew glass, brb.

...went back and watched it again and even his tone is interesting. The "I'm home" like an offering. Firm, but soft, like "Here I am, this will fix it." A statement, not a question.

Plus, the camera pans out to show him in the foyer, surrounded by the light in the room and beautiful things, flowers, but looking an absolute mess as much as he's trying to look cheerful. Which is SO INTERESTING against the shot they always show us of him aboard the Revenge for the first time - where it's dark, just lit by the lanterns, and he looks nervous, yeah, but put together on his own terms (appearance wise) and the deck of the Revenge, though empty, looks as welcoming as we always see her, even in the darkness.

So yes. Allll of that.

I'm not sure if this meta helped it hurt less but jeeeeeeeez. So much "of course it happened this way," etc. As usual, brilliantly constructed as much as I can't help but wish every time, still, that things will turn out differently.

*slowly turns up the volume on "The Chain" and curls into a ball okay thanks*

#ofmd meta #meta #ofmd #inspiration #storytelling #stedward #blackbonnet #otp

[g0ssipwhore]

SWEATER WEATHER

SYNOPSIS :: The night where things get messy with feelings and mutual pining.

NOTE :: characters are 18 above

TYPE :: fluff / smut

WARNING :: dorks in love, aftercare, foreplay !!

I haven't even begun how the fuck he was able to climb up to my room, in a middle of a storm.

“Now, explain, what are you doing here?” I asked him with my arms twisted in front of my chest. Instead of answering, he let out a weak chuckle. Seriously! This guy!

“Alright, alright, before you throw me out of your window. I was, just, I was missing you. I get it, you were busy given that this is your last semester. I even texted you a bunch of times but you weren't picking up, I got worried and shit, I ended up here.” He continues his reasons, but I was already at my limit from laughing my ass off. “Hey! Stop laughing.”

I immediately wrapped my hands in his mouth, “Remember, you're not supposed to be here.” His shock was evident by how fast I have closed the gap between us. Yet he still nodded, and it was my cue to let him go.

“You busy?” He asked in a more shushed voice, with his hand scratching his nape.

“Obviously, but since you're here might as well just take a break. Want to pop a movie? I have a subscription with Netflix... I think, check it out if I still have it.” I told him, while I prepared a snack. A bucket of popcorn and two bottles of beer I snuck in last night.

I sat the popcorn and beer down at a small table and hopped on my bed, while Warren fixed my projector. “Come on, it's already good.”

He looked at the projector one final time, before plopping down on the floor. “What are you doing there?”

Surely enough a blush appeared on his cheeks, staining it like a fairy dust. “You're gonna let me sit at your bed?”

“I don't see why not.” I answered and didn't wait for him to move his ass because I was already pulling his arms towards me.

The beginning of the movie in which I picked out–because he was too flustered by the fact he is just realising he was in a girl's room, even though he's the one who barged in– a rom-com movie, 10 Things I Hate About You.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asked, his body was as stiff as a board sitting on my bed which is opposite from me as I'm laying while munching down on the popcorn.

“Warren, stop worrying about me, in fact I feel the exact opposite. So, I'd feel even better if you start getting comfortable as well.” I informed him, patting the space he's not occupying that's next to me.

He grunted but obliged, laying down with his back pressed against a ton of soft pillows. “I might be stuck in your bed forever, how come ours was never this soft and fluffy.”

I chuckled at his reaction, “That's because I always make sure to at least clean it from time to time.” Then, all I heard from him was a small ‘Hmm’.

The movie was halfway towards the end and I can feel him get closer with occasional comments about how cliché and predictable the scenes are. Of course, I have to defend my favourite movie.

“But isn't it romantic?” I dejected when the next scene was the characters kissing in the car.

I waited for his answer but he's gone quiet by how he keeps watching the scene. “Have you even got your first kiss?” God, my mouth won't shut up today.

In an instance, his head snapped back to me. It was a long second before he answered I added immediately, “I was kidding, you don't have to answer that.”

“No..” He answered, cutting off my initial plan to back out from my question. But the way he said it makes it sound like he's not even sure.

“Seriously? Come on, you can't be that much of a virgin loser.” I joked, but he smacked my arm lightly yet he's still laughing.

“I don't, I don't think anyone is interested in dating me, let alone kiss me.” He said, but I can hear the melancholy in his voice.

I sat up and got closer to him, "Hey, Warren, anyone will be lucky to have you. Jesus, you're a joy to be with. I know that since you've been my best friend ever since.”

He smiled, but I don't think he meant it, “Yeah, friends. Are we really just friends?”

The moment the words left his mouth, I felt uneasiness. I'm not oblivious with the fact how there were lingering glances when he thought I wasn't aware, or how his hands softly touched mine and wouldn't let go when I let him. Fuck! This was dangerous to play.

“Don't you consider us friends?” Pretend, that's what I've been doing ever since I found out about his feelings. If I do this, surely, his feelings would go, right?

Wrong!

Instead his hand touched one of mine, “Do best friends go around kissing when they're drunk in a party?”

My body felt like it's been dumped with water that's filled with ice. Fuck! He remembers that? It was that stupid party by the Vortex Club, I was too fuck out of my head that the moment I saw him at that party I didn't get to control myself and just kissed him.

I was speechless, where do I even begin with. I looked at his features, the laughter we had together, his quip comments, all of it was gone, just a stoic eyes was staring right at me.

The credits of the movie faded into black, making his features blurry and only a silhouette was what I saw. “Warren, I–”

My words and breath were knocked out of my mouth and instead, replaced it with his lips. I feel my body being paralyzed, all my senses were blocked from his kiss.

He's kissing me? Oh, shit. Goddammit, kiss back!

The minute has already passed by but his left hand was already on my wait pushing me down the bed and got on top of me, his lips never once leaving mine and only being pressed for more.

I have to stop this, it won't end well. Things will get much weirder between us, I'll lose him if it doesn't work.

“Warren..” I breathed out when I slightly pushed him away, giving time to breathe. Yet he didn't stop, his lips were tracing my jaw leaving small kisses. I almost moaned his name when he kept going further. “We have to stop.”

“One more minute, please. Then, I'll go.” He begged, his hands roaming my body. I didn't even stop it, one of my hands was on his head patting his hair almost as if encouraging him to continue.

Fuck, please, give me strength to resist him.

“W, we really have to stop.” I breathed out, but my words fell deaf on his ears, instead sucking a spot where my jaw connects to my earlobe. This time, I didn't get to stop moaning his name out loud.

My noise was enough for him to stop from what he was doing and looked at my face, it was only this time I got to see his eyes that was full of desire and almost as if he was going to cry.

“Tell me to stop, and I promise I'll do it. I'll leave.” His voice was filled with desperation.

I looked at the rain, how hard it was pouring. “Don't look at anything else, look at me.” His hand softly touched my jaw guiding me to look at him face to face.

I really can't resist him from the very start.

I closed my eyes and instead pulled him closer to me, this time, I'm the one who initiated our kiss. Fuck, this time it's even more passionate. When two parties both want the same thing it usually ends where their clothes are disposed of and left on the ground.

The soft touch turns into harsher grips on my waist as his lips press small bites on my neck that will surely leave red bruises for the majority of the next day. Do I even care if it means he's the one who's doing it?

My hands started fidgeting and he took it as a sign to take my hands and make it wrapped around his torso. “You don't have to do anything, I'll do it for you.” He gently says near my ear before kissing my cheeks and pulling away to look at the state he put me in. My ears were ringing and I hear is the sound of our pants and moans, did the rain already stop?

He mumbled with his words but I got to hear some of it, “I don't think I'll be able to let you go after this.”

Then he proceeded to finish his work, but this time, his hand slides dangerously from my waist to hips, fiddling with the fabric of my panties. If only I could read his thoughts, I wonder how much self control he has to stop himself from pulling it off of me. His lips found the curves of my collarbones and he didn't wait a second when my hands pushed him further into my chest. The warmth of his mouth filled my senses, the nudge of his tongue on my nipples is enough to send shivers to every part of me.

“Warren...” I softly called out to him and of course, as a gentleman he immediately stopped.

In return, he looked at me with the softest eyes I have ever seen that was almost filled with worry. “Did I do something?”

“No!” I replied, softly brushing his hair out of his flushed face. “I, I don't think I'm ready yet... for what's to happen next.”

The realization dawned on him, instead he smiled and kissed me on the forehead. “It's alright, we'll do whatever you want.”

We both sit up on the bed, he and I were already shirtless but the difference is he still has his jeans on. “Here, you can wear mine.” He told me, picking up his sweater from my floor and dusting it off before handing it to me.

I thanked him and the moment I wore his sweater his scent that filled my nostrils earlier came back. I couldn't resist hugging myself to feel his clothes on my body.

“You know, when you asked me earlier about my first kiss I was contemplating whether or not I should even consider our kiss from that night on the club.” He says with his hand behind his neck.

Of course, I remembered it. How could I not? It was one slip up, I had to pretend it never happened or he might be weirded out from my behaviour. It was better to blame the alcohol rather than my feelings.

“I'd prefer it if you didn't regret it.” His eyes were the one thing that kept me grounded, I couldn't even look away from shame. “I knew you remembered it too, I just don't know why you have to hide it.”

“It would be better for the both of us if none of it happened. Warren, if this doesn't work out...”

“Would you rather want to lose me now? Or at least try to see what it's like to be with me. I love you, for such a long time. I was just afraid you didn't feel the same.” He paused, his voice trembling with anticipation. “But tonight, my perception changed. Give me a chance, please. If you think it won't work out in the end, at least the truth was we loved each other.”

I thought about the endless possibilities, considering the consequences, but none of it mattered the moment he kissed me tonight. All I wanted was to kiss him back, to feel more of his warmth. So in the end, all the worries and doubts turned my feelings around.

I was speechless, but I mustered my strength to look him in the eyes before kissing him again. With the same passion as earlier. He's right, he always has been right. It didn't take him too long to wrap his arms around me and kiss me back.

The moment we pulled away I could see from his eyes how happy he was, even though his smile was evident from his cheeks.

“I love you.” There, I finally said it. Caressing his cheeks.

Then a knock interrupted both of us, “Hey, lovebirds at least keep it down. We have a test tomorrow.” Juliet's voice echoed throughout my room that we have to prevent ourselves from laughing out loud.

“We should get some sleep, or they'll definitely report us.” I said, scooting over to give him some space on my bed for him to lay on.

“You want me to stay?” He asked when he realized what I was doing.

“Why? You want to go back with how hard it is raining outside? Absolutely not!” I said with my hands settled on my hips, “So please, come and sleep with me for tonight. Then, I'll throw you out my window tomorrow.”

He chuckled before bending over to me, “Thanks, sweetie. That's so sweet of you.” He said with sarcasm and sweetness in his tone.

The night ended with both of us cuddling together as I'm wearing his sweater, while his hands kept stroking my hair. As the storm outside brewed, my thoughts wandered, if ever I would have to sacrifice anything, it would be for this boy.

#life is strange #warren graham x f!reader #warren graham #warren graham x oc #lis warren graham #warren graham x reader #x reader #warren graham lis #warren graham fanfic #warren graham fanfiction #life is strange fanfiction #life is strange fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

[user743838485]

Your Life In Rosewood Part 4

{ALISON POV}

"Hey guys- what is she doing here?" I say angrily.

"Ahh, she goes to school here, what's your problem Ali?" Emily asks Ali.

"Well if you know me at all Em. I don't particularly like stray cats." I say even more angrier than I was before.

"Well Ali. First of all Y/N isn't a cat and second, if you have a problem with who I make friends with, then I don't think you deserve to be one."

Emily snaps while grabbing Y/N's hand and storming off. I can't believe that Emily practically choose that little manipulative bitch over me. I need to get her back.

{YOUR POV}

You could see and hear the anger in Alison. She was going red and you enjoyed it. Emily takes you to her locker and begins talking to you.

"I'm sorry about her. She can be a bitch sometimes." Emily states.

"No, I get it, she just wants to protect you. I would do the exact same thing if I was her." You say, trying to sound like you care.

"Just to remind you. You don't need to put up with her. You can defend yourself." Says Emily closing her locker.

"I know, its just I thought you and your friends would gang up on me." You reply.

*bell rings"

"I'll see you at lunch okay?" Emily leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips before running off to class.

"What the hell just happened, did Emily just kiss you?" You say to yourself.

{EMILY'S POV}

I quickly peck Y/N on the lips before rushing off to class. I take my seat and looks towards the board.

"Oh, god. What did I just do?" I whisper quietly.

When the bell rings I grab all of my stuff and quickly exit the room,

When I get out of the door I bumped into Alison.

"Oh, hey Em. Can we talk?"

"Not really I have to go." I reply.

"Mind if I join?" She asks nicely.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. I'm meeting up with Y/N."

"Oh, well. I'll see you after school?" She asks looking disappointed.

"Yeah maybe. Bye Alison." I say while walking off quickly.

{ALISON'S POV}

"Yeah maybe. Bye Alison." Em says while walking off quickly.

She hasn't said my whole name since I got back. Great now Y/N is making me look like the bad guy. Why does everything bad happens to me. A few moments later I get a text.

"Aw poor little Ali. Ha just kidding, that's what you get bitch, ant the new girl to go away, do what I say. -A"

I can't believe that bitch is still watching me. I can't let Emily and the girls get hurt. Not again.

{YOUR POV}

"Hey I'm so glad I found you. We need to talk." says Emily walking towards me.

"Yeah I think I know what this is all about." You reply.

You and Emily both make your way to the nearest table and sit down.

"Look I'm sorry what I did earlier, it was inappropriate and-" You cut her off before she could finish.

"Emily, it's okay. You got caught up in the moment and you must of thought I was someone else."

"But I wasn't." You stopped for a moment and notice how her chocolate brown eyes are staring into yours.

"Really?" You ask surprised.

"Yeah, really." You look deeper into her eyes as your heart begins to beat faster and faster,

"Hey!! Em what's up?" You look up to see Hanna, Aria, and Spencer holding trays with food on them.

"Hey guys." Emily replies.

"Do you mind if we sit?" Aria interrupts.

"Of course not." Emily insists.

All three girls sit down on the table and begin talking to each other. Suddenly you see Alison in the distance. You and her share looks and she begins walking towards the table. She stops about half way as her phone buzzes. She looks at you with a gutted look and walks off in another direction. You hear your phone buzz. You take it out and look straight at the ID.

"Blocked ID" you say in your head.

"Your welcome, Now you owe me. -A"

"Who's A?" You say to yourself. And why do I owe them.

#pretty little liars #two can keep a secret

[mangekyuou]

hey !! could i request strawhat pirates with a teen reader who’s really elegant and stuff? she’s just really kind and sweet and sort of princessy?

okay so i thought this rq worked better with headcanons. and i usually don't write headcanons because i don't think i'm good at them. but i wanted to take a stab at it. ( if it's bad...i am so sorry )

THE STRAW HATS W / PRINCESSY TEEN READER+ / ☻

Now for the Straw Hats to even consider letting such a young girl join the crew, you must be incredible strong...or you showed Luffy something semi-cool and he wanted you to be apart of the crew. 

Let’s be honest, he’s easily impressed. 

You could do that finger trick where it looks like you can take off your thumb and Luffy is BEYOND EXCITED and wants you to teach him how to do it.

But moving on, you’re part of the crew.

I imagine it is fairly hard at first getting used to the sudden change and being surrounded by a crew of pirates. Your elegant, well-mannered behavior will probably clash a lot with just about everyone, except Nami, Robin, and Sanji.

Being another girl on the crew, Nami and Robin would always be there for you and be the ones to help you truly get used to the crazy antics of your new crew.

Nami loves to take you shopping. She doesn’t mind spending money on you because she finds you so adorable. Of course, she’ll end up being cheap and haggling vendors. And will somehow successfully get away with it.

Nami is also the one who keeps everyone else in line around you to make sure a certain someone isn’t bothering you. By someone, I mean Sanji. She wastes no time to defend you from his ogling.

Robin with her mother-like instincts will immediately take to you and would probably be the one you spend the most time with. Whether it be reading together, playing board games, or anything else you like, she enjoys her moments with you.

She can also be pretty protective of you if she feels something is too dangerous for you to handle. She will voice her concerns and if you don’t heed her warning and get into danger, she will save you herself.

There’s been one too many dangerous things you have been talked into doing by your captain, needing Robin to help you. She just doesn’t want to see you hurt. She understands you are young and you want to experience a lot, but it doesn’t stop her from worrying.

Speaking of your captain.

Luffy will want to spend a lot of time with you and will try to understand your attitude and will want to try it out for himself. But he will quickly realize how much it is not for him.

He has probably tried on your clothes more times than he can count. He thinks he looks cute in them.

Luffy will 100% rub off on you. There’s no way you’ll stay the exact same after staying on a ship with him and the others for some time.

Sanji HATES when you spend time with Luffy. Not that he’s jealous ( he most absolutely is ) but he hates that Luffy is little by little turning you into a hooligan. It broke his little heart when you stopped referring to him with honorifics. He cried.

Originally, Zoro had no opinion of you. You were his crewmate, nothing more nothing less. Getting Zoro to open up to you was harder than the others, who were accepting to you pretty early on. Your kindness alone wasn’t enough for him.

However, asking to spar with him will get his attention. If it becomes a regular thing, he’ll look forward to your sessions and truly wants you to put up a good fight. He’s a bit harsh on you, but he does it out of tough love.

He doesn’t say it often, but he is very proud of you.

Chopper and Usopp trying to be elegant with you and saying formal words incorrectly. Having tea parties and playing dress up on the deck of the Sunny.

And Franky being upset that he wasn’t invited so you spend a good 30 minutes trying to get him in a suit jacket and arguing with him about how he needs to put on pants because fancy guys wear pants...he refuses. But he lets you style his hair instead.

And of course the rest of the Straw Hats attend these tea parties with Brook playing soft music. However, they’re always ruined by Luffy...but you always end up laughing.

© MANGEKYUOU. / ☻

#was this okay ??? #it was pretty long but i don't know #hopefully this was #im so sorry #one piece #strawhats x reader #straw hats x reader #one piece x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece oneshots #night rather than day ── 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰. 𓂃 ★☆ #JUST REALIZE I DIDNT INCLUDE JINBE #FUCK