#like?????? what is it about me and my family that we run into these kinds of people so often akdhskdnsk

[1800-fight-me]

Love your writing :) Could you please do a story where reader/Aemonds wife gets captured and taken on a ship

Before Aemond of course comes to rescue his love

The Rogue Prince

Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Rating: M (Mature - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, implied smut

Word count: About 3.5k

Synopsis: Aemond Targaryen is loyal to his family and house above all, but what happens when his wife is captured and in mortal peril?

Author’s note: Thank you for this request! I hope you enjoy it!! Protective and possessive Aemond owns me... also I started writing this before I knew the plot of season two so the timeline of this fic doesn't make much sense but let's just pretend it does, okay? lol

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!

There was commotion in King’s Landing. Chaos. Terror. 

You were not within the safety of the Red Keep as you normally were, as you should be. 

There was so much screaming you couldn’t think straight. 

Alicent grabbed your hand, her other hand in Helena's and pulled you both forward. 

The crowd pushed and heaved and you yelled as your hand slipped from your mother in law’s. 

Pure terror shot down your spine as the push of the crowd led you away from them, away from your family by marriage, away from the King’s Guards, away from safety. 

You were lost in a sea of limbs and panic, your screams completely unheard over the cacophony of scared sounds. 

You couldn’t even determine the source of the commotion, you didn’t see it, only the after effect as you were now pushed down the streets of the city. 

Water dripped down your cheeks, and when you looked up, the sky was clear. You continued to run with the crowd, in order to avoid being knocked over and trampled. 

You lifted a hand to your face, and realized you were crying. 

Another hand grabbed yours, and you gasped in relief, as you were harshly pulled to the side and into an alley. 

Your gasping breaths slowed as the crowd no longer threatened to crush you. 

You clenched your jaw and steeled your resolve as you realized the person who pulled you to safety was a stranger with a predatory gleam in his eyes. 

You lifted your chin and yanked your hand out of his. 

“Thank you for the assistance, kind sir, but I must get going. My family is expecting me,” you said firmly. 

A hateful chuckle came from the darkness behind you. 

You whirled around and saw two malicious looking men, behind them in the darkness there were two young women sitting on the ground with their hands and legs bound and gags in their mouths. There was fear unlike any you’d ever known in their eyes. 

That same fear now dripped down your spine, but you couldn’t give into it, instead you steeled your spine. 

“How much do you think we can get for this one?” The shorter man sneered. 

You thought of how your husband spoke to his enemies and tried to emulate that same haughty tone as you looked down your nose at them.

“I am a Targaryen. Return-“

”But you don’t got silver hair,” one of the men blurted out. 

You wrinkled your nose, ever the royal, and said, “I am the wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen. Return me to the Red Keep safely and I will make it certain you are rewarded for your goodwill.” 

The men’s smiles grew greedy. 

“Imagine how much we can get in ransom,” the one behind you muttered. 

“That would be an incredibly stupid course of action. The Prince is a viciously protective man and would surely kill any who attempt to kidnap me. He once broke a man’s arm for grabbing me in the halls of the Red Keep. Another time he broke a man’s nose for looking at me too long. It is in your best interest to leave me be,” you said sternly. 

The shorter one had the sense to look scared, but the bigger one, the scarier one, looked only overconfident. 

“The One Eyed Prince is not in King’s Landing, is he? I hear he is far away tending to the ongoing war within his house,” he said as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

You gulped. 

“He rides the largest dragon in the world, it would be a quick thing for him to be here to incinerate you all,” you said, your confident tone wavering slightly. 

“He’s not here now,” the one behind you said, and before you could look back at him there was pain as something hit you in the side of the head and the world turned black as you fell. 

You were floating on a sea of fire, the motion of the waves of flame rocking you back and forth, the gentleness bringing you a sense of peace and reassurance you had not felt since your husband mounted his dragon and flew off to war. 

The sky cracked open and rain poured as lightning flashed. But the flames you swam in remained strong, boosted you up, and as a bolt of lightning flashed towards you in slow motion, you held your hand up and the waves of fire surrounded you, protecting you from danger.

As you resurfaced you pointed your finger at the thundercloud and the fire shot like an arrow and decimated it. 

Someone shook your shoulder and as you woke, your body still rocked back and forth with waves, only furthering your disorientation as you found yourself  somewhere completely foreign. 

“Aemond?” You mumbled as nausea threatened to overcome you. 

“Princess,” a female voice said and you cracked your eyes open to find yourself in a fully wooden room with two women. They both laid on the floor in the tiny room, same as you. 

“Where am I?” You asked bewildered. Your head pounded and as you reached your hand and touched the side of it, you felt a tender bruise and hissed in pain. 

“Princess, don’t you remember? We were captured,” the other woman said. 

It all came rushing back to you and you pressed your lips together to avoid vomiting. 

“Y-yes, where are we?” 

“Somewhere in the middle of the sea,” the younger woman said quietly, her tone distraught. 

You were on a ship, shoved in a small room, surely in the hull, that had been transformed into a temporary dungeon you discovered as you stood, losing your balance for a moment, and attempted to open the locked door. 

“We already tried that,” the one with the dark hair said. 

You sighed. “Of course you did.” 

“How long have we been in here?” You asked, panic filling your chest. 

“My guess is a day and a half,” the younger woman said. 

You sank to your knees and allowed the tears to fill your eyes as the despair hit. 

You later learned that the names of the women you were trapped with were Marrion and Eliza. They were both as terrified as you, but managed to learn as much as they could about the men who held you, which they relayed to you in hushed tones for fear of the guard outside the door overhearing. 

“Is it true that your husband will come to rescue you?” Eliza asked hopefully. 

You pressed your lips together. “Yes, but who knows how long it will take him to learn of my capture, to find me?” 

Both the women looked down in dismay. 

You knew that Aemond would abandon his war, his family, his life for you. You knew he would fight, would bleed, would die for you. Such was his love and devotion to his wife, but his family knew that as well, and a small voice in the back of your head worried and warned you that perhaps his scheming grandsire would prevent word of your predicament to be sent to your husband. 

You wondered if you prayed to Vhagar if she would hear it and lead your husband to you, she was practically a goddess of war in her own right. You didn’t believe in any of the other gods your husband and his family worshiped.

“We need to make our own plan in the meantime,” you said firmly and they nodded. 

You lifted your skirt and pulled out the sapphire embedded dagger strapped to your thigh that your husband gifted you on your name day. 

Your companions had watched the men’s patterns before you awoke, and you based your plan off that. Listening to your husband and offering him support taught you a decent amount about strategy, and hours of training with him had taught you self defense skills as well, and it was time to put both to use, this time with you having the element of surprise, not the horrible men who stole you. 

The next day, when the guard unlocked and opened the door that kept your prisoner, you were prepared to charm and simper, but the man smiled at you in a way that made your stomach sink, and threw a dress at you. 

“The captain demands your presence, you have ten minutes to ready yourself,” he said with another lingering look before turning and slamming the door shut again. The lock was loud as it was clicked back into place. 

“Well that makes things a bit easier,” you said and both women laughed in shock with you before they helped you make yourself look more presentable. 

As you made your way towards the captain’s office, the pirates aboard the ship stared and sneered. You blinked against the brightness of the sun as it glittered over the blue sea. There was no sight of land that you could see, nothing but depthless ocean, no option for escape but a watery grave. 

Your hopes of an easy getaway were dashed, you had no idea how long you would be forced to remain on this ship until it reached land and you could enact your strategy for release. 

There was also no sight of Vhagar, no dragon roar in the winds, no dashing husband with a sword in hand, no one to save you. 

Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

The captain grinned at you, and you held in your grimace as you followed him into the room he led you to. 

There was a table in the center of the room, food laden upon it, and your stomach growled in protest. 

He chuckled at the sound, “Please, eat as much as you desire.” 

He sat across the table from you and you waited until he filled his plate and took a few bites, before you tore into the food before you, uncaring of being ladylike due to the feeling of starvation. 

“I hear you are a princess,” the man said and you looked up at him as you used your napkin to wipe your mouth. 

“Your men stole me from my wedded family,” you said. 

“The Targaryens,” he said. 

You nodded, unable to withhold your glare. 

“They’re not my men, in case you are interested, just men who sell me goods that make me gold,” he drawled and you resisted the urge to slap him. 

“I am not an item to be bartered and sold, I am the wife of Aemond Targaryen and you will release me safely or my dragon will burn you and your entire operation to the ground,” you said, softly but with passion. 

He had the gall to laugh at you. 

You gritted your teeth and attempted to quell your temper, but your fiery temperament was difficult to leash, it was what attracted your husband to you in the first place. 

“You’re a hateful bastard,” you spat. 

He laughed again, “Guilty as charged. Princess, when we reach our destination across the sea, your husband’s family will be contacted and ransom will be posted. My crew and I will get our money and you will be returned home.”

You glared, wishing your look could kill. Your hand inched up your leg, grazing the sheathed dagger hidden under your skirts that hadn’t been found and confiscated during your capture. 

Pirates began screaming and then there was an earth shattering roar. 

You smirked. 

He pulled out his sword and pointed it at you and rested the tip against your throat. 

“You will die for this,” you purred. 

“Stay put,” he said as he then stood and walked past you to the door. 

As he opened the door, there was the most glorious sight to behold. Vaghar cast a shadow over the ship large enough it was nearly dark as night. Aemond’s silver hair shined as he climbed down a rope from her saddle and landed on the ship, his sword out and began slaughtering. 

“Targaryen,” the captain yelled as he stepped out and stood on the bannister, looking down as your husband cut down his men. 

You stood and quietly slipped your dagger from its sheath as you crept behind the captain. 

“Where is my wife?” Aemond bellowed. 

Heat filled you in response to his presence, his rage. 

The captain opened his mouth to respond when a blade pierced the back of his neck, pushed through, and broke through on the other side of his throat, before the dagger was withdrawn. Red splattered as he choked on his own blood, the only sounds of his surprise. 

He turned around to look at his attacker and you gave him a feral grin. 

“I told you that you and your entire ship would burn,” you said sweetly before you pushed him over the railing, ignoring the sound and sight of his crippled body on the wood as you looked up at your Aemond. 

The fighting had indeed paused as all were shocked by the death of the captain. 

“I am here,” you said, blood spattered and filled with relief. 

Aemond released a sigh of relief and gave you a feral grin. 

“Come to me,” he said as his sword clashed with another, the men regaining their wits and attempting to kill him once more. 

Everything in you wanted to yield to his command, to run to him, to be in his arms, but you had one more task to complete. 

“In a minute,” you called out as you took off running back towards the cell you were kept in. As you looked back, you saw the confused quizzical look he threw at you as he continued to stab and end the lives of the men who stole you from him. 

You raced down the hallway, having memorized the way, and saw the guard as he unlocked and opened the door where your companions were kept. 

You stabbed him in the back, and ripped your dagger out, so when he turned around in surprise, you stabbed him again in the heart. 

You yanked your dagger from him as you looked at the women, and yelled, “Follow me!” 

You ran back from the belly of the ship to the safety of your dragon. But as soon as you were out in the open and saw him again, you realized he was in trouble. 

He was the most skilled fighter, but he was overwhelmed by numbers. You threw your dagger at a man about to stab him in the back, and it found its home in the enemy's forehead.

You then picked up a sword off a deceased body and attempted to fight, but the sword was quickly knocked from your hands.  

Your foe held his sword to your throat and you huffed in frustration. 

Marrion and Eliza hid behind you, and at least eight men stood between you and Aemond. 

“Enough,” the man who held your life in his hands yelled. 

The fighting stopped and Aemond’s gaze met yours across the ship. Fire gleamed in his eye, blood coated his hands, splattered across his clothing, his handsome face, his silver hair. He was a god of vengeance, your protector, the bearer of your heart and soul. 

“Return my wife to me,” he snarled. 

“We outnumber you, yield,” the man closest to him said through gritted teeth. 

“I do believe you are forgetting something,” Aemond said with a smirk and Vhagar roared loud enough to rock the boat. 

You huffed a laugh. 

The men took a step back from your husband, shaking in their boots. 

Aemond held his hand out to you, you looked back to the man who threatened you, and with a sigh he lowered his sword from your throat. You ran into Aemond’s embrace, he pulled you close with one arm even as he continued to hold his sword up against the men. 

The other two women followed you, and hid behind the two of you. 

“My love,” he murmured, “Climb aboard Vhagar and lead your companions to do the same. I will be there momentarily.”

You pressed a kiss to his blood smattered cheek and did as he ordered. You climbed the rope that led you to Vhagar’s saddle, and as you got settled, you assisted the others in doing the same. 

Aemond continued his stand off with the men who remained. When one jumped forward, attempting to attack, he unleashed himself. 

The opponents were no match for your dragon, despite their numbers, and Aemond slayed as many as he could, before grabbing onto the rope. 

With words in High Valyrian dripping from his tongue, he ordered his dragon to fly, taking him higher and away from the men who attempted to take you from him. 

Only moments passed, and then he yelled, “Dracarys.” 

Liquid fire encompassed the pirate ship and it burned just as you predicted it would. 

You watched the ship, the men on it, burn to ashes before sinking into the ocean as Aemond climbed atop Vhagar’s saddle and situated himself behind you, wrapping his arms around you, the other two women behind him. 

“Let’s go home, my love,” he said in your ear, gently and reassuring. 

You nodded, sinking into his embrace, and only tearing your eyes from the wreckage when it sunk beneath the watery depths. 

The return to King’s Landing was quick, and trusted guards returned the women with you safely to their homes, but not before you offered them jobs in the Red Keep, which they tearfully accepted. Descriptions were given of the men that sold you to the pirates, and you knew they would be dead by nightfall. f

Then, your husband led you to the small council chambers, you walked in feeling bashful, but he strutted in, led you to sit as he stood behind you, one hand on the back of your chair the other on your shoulder. 

“Aemond!” His mother exclaimed. 

He ignored her and instead glared at his grandsire. 

“Why was I not properly informed that my wife had been stolen,” he growled. 

“You left your post,” Otto replied. 

“I don’t give a shit about my post. My wife was in danger. Days went by, days that she was no longer in your protection as you had promised,” he said, his voice raised. 

“Aemond, we were doing everything we could to get her back,” Alicent attempted to soothe. 

“Not enough,” Aemond said through gritted teeth. 

“It was a calculated decision to not inform you, the hope was that we would have her back safety before you discovered that she was ever gone-“

”You calculated wrong.” Aemond said, his voice low and dark, the promise of violence so strong that you looked back at him and placed your hand atop his own. 

“Aemond, I am fine, I am safe,” you reassured. 

He glanced down at you, the words seeming to smooth some of the jagged panic inside him.

“And we are so grateful that you are,” Alicent replied. 

Aemond looked back up. 

“We need you to return, you and Vhagar are essential-“ 

“Fuck that,” Aemond said as he tugged on your hand, pulling you up out of your chair and by his side as he turned to leave. 

“Aemond!” Alicent protested. 

“My wife will stay by my side,” Aemond announced as you both exited the room. 

”My love?” You asked, breathless as he walked swiftly through the halls of the Red Keep, keeping you with him. 

“I will return to the war efforts on the morrow and you will come with me, do you understand? I cannot breathe when you are not near me. I cannot breathe when you are not safely in my arms. I cannot- “ 

“Aemond, look at me,” you said gently as you placed your hand on the side of his face. 

You had pulled him to a stop right in front of your chambers, they had gone unused since you wed him as he had immediately moved you into his own. 

His breathing was ragged, panic still threatening to pull him under. 

“You saved me. I am here. And I will stay by your side always, if that is what you desire,” you said softly but passionately. 

His lips crashed into yours. 

His grip was tight as he pulled you against the hard planes of his body. 

Your heart soared as his passion threatened to consume you. The waves of his fiery passion threatened to pull you under as his tongue tangled with yours and he moved, leading you to step back until your back hit the door and he pressed you against it. His hands roved from gripping your hips, one grazing the underside of your breast, the other caressing the side of your throat. 

He pulled his lips from yours long enough to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out, “Always?” 

“Always,” you promised as you pulled his lips back to yours. 

His hand reached the handle of the door behind you, and he guided you into the room. He spent the night proving his devotion to you, imprinting himself on and inside your body, giving you pleasure of unparalleled heights. 

And the next morning, your dragon kept his promise of always, and brought you with him, holding you tight and close on Vhagar’s back as he returned to wage war against his foes. 

[https-kreideprinz]

Just give me true love and understanding !

Leo Valdez x GN! Reader

A/N: hiya! My order is a Leo Valdez fic of some kind! No pressure as always.

Notes: COME GET UR FOOD WHILE ITS HOTT!!

ׂׂૢ Leo Valdez

Leo grinned. "Look babe! He's licking me- aren't you just adorable. Leo cooed, looking down at the cat eagerly licking his fingers. You smiled softly as your boyfriend continued to stuff his fingers through the cage. "Come here baby... Oh you're so cute..." He whispered, voice light and airy. He giggled when the cat meowed softly. "Can we take this one in please babe." He looked up at you with pleading eyes, and you knew you couldn't resist his charm. "Oh ok." You sighed with a smile on your lips and Leo gave you the grin that made your heart soar.

The lady running the foster care home chuckled. "Your boyfriend is quite good with animals." The woman smiled. You looked down at Leo, the man you devoted your life to.

Leo beamed and giggled. Cooing at the feline who eagerly rubbed itself against his body. You crossed your arms and smiled. "Yea... I love him." You whispered as Leo opened the door to the cage and laughed when the cat immediately ran up to him and began nuzzling his face against your boyfriend's legs. Leo leaned down to pick up the animal and grinned. "He's perfect. Let's take him home quickly and I can show him all my new inventions!"

The woman smiled. "The paperwork will only take a moment and then he'll be all yours to keep forever. The perfect new member for your little family." At the mention of 'family', Leo froze, seemingly deep in thought as you began filling out the forms and signing the adoption papers. 

"Family..." Leo mumbled, dragging his hand down the cat's back. "Is something wrong Leo?" You called and he snapped out of his train of thought. "Huh? Oh no- I'm fine!" He smiled, though it was obvious he was trying to hide something from you. But you decided it would be best not to pry. Shrugging, you finished signing the paperwork and handed it to your boyfriend.

Once you had finished taking the medical paperwork and bought toys and a bed for your new family member. You all piled into the car. Your cat - now named 'Petey' was sleeping in his little cat carrier looking cute.

Leo's grip tightened against the wheel. All he could think about was the word family bouncing around in the back of his mind. He had a family once upon a time. But now that family is gone. Would he really be interested in maybe starting again? Maybe having a family of his own. Or maybe he wouldn't be good enough. Maybe it didn't matter in the end.

"Leo." You whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? Something on your mind?" You pressed him, looking at your boyfriend with worried eyes. Leo sighed, pulling into your shared driveway. “Just… thinking about what the woman said. About a family.” He confessed, pulling off his seat belt and running a hand through his curly hair. You smiled sadly, remembering what he told you about his family. “I really want to start a family- [Name]-” Leo grabbed your hands and looked at you with determination in his eyes.

“When I get older. And we’re set for life. I’m going to marry you.” He said sternly.

Your eyes widened and your heart fluttered. You swallowed your saliva and you could feel the way your blush slowly crept up your cheeks and neck. “L-Leo- Are you sure?” You gave him a nervous smile, looking confused. 

Leo nodded, determined to get you to understand that he was in fact, one-hundred percent serious. 

You sighed, knowing that it was indeed, futile to argue with the likes of Leo. You shot him with your own, determined smile. “Ok! When we’re both old enough- we’ll get married!” You grinned and Leo cheered, punching the air. “Hell yea!” 

A small meow came from the back seat and you winced.

“We should… uh… probably get settled inside.”

Leo nodded, kicking the door open. “Yes I agree.”

Taglist: @thementallyunwellapollochild, @apollos-coolest-child, @too-queer-for-school, @chaotic-child-of-apollo, @vintage-wanderers, @iam-sherlocked

[zombvic]

would you write one of hector fort and reader being in an argument and reader crying because of the accumulated stress and hector comforting reader afterwards pls

PLUS ONE (hector garcía fort x reader)

summary : in which hector gets invited to a team event, which comes with a certain challenge

face claim : no-one

notes : first time writing angst lol sorry if its soft but im a noobie

pairings : hector fort x reader , angst

HECTOR and I have been dating for about a year. Our relationship has been very low-key, with only our families knowing about it. We both agreed it was better this way—he has his fangirls, and I would assume they would go ballistic if they found out Hector had a girlfriend. Not even the Barca players knew; some, slowly caught on, but apart from a few REALLY soft, soft launches, it was basically non-existent to the public eye.

It was a typical Saturday evening when Hector came over to my apartment after a training, a bit more excited than usual. “Guess what?”

“What’s up, babe?” I asked, looking up from my phone.

“I got invited to the FIFA Football Awards event next month. It’s a big deal; all the top players will be there,” he said, sitting down beside me.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Hector! I’m so proud of you,” I replied, genuinely happy for him.

“And they said I could bring a plus one,” he added, his voice trailing off as he looked at me expectantly.

I paused, my excitement fading slightly. “Oh, that’s.. nice.”

Hector noticed the change in my tone and his brows furrowed. “I want you to come with me,” he said firmly.

“Hector, you know we agreed to keep this low-key. An event like that, with all the media and attention… it’s not exactly low-key,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, but it’s just one event. We don’t have to hide forever. Besides, I want to share this moment with you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that simple. Once we go public, things will change. People will start prying into the life of my family and I. I don’t want that kind of stress.”

“But I want to be able to be with you openly. It’s been over year. I’m tired of hiding” he argued, his frustration evident.

He got up and walked around the room. 

"So, why can't we do just one thing together? "I just want one, public, night together." 

"It never lasts a night. Today it's the awards; tomorrow it'll be something different."

"Where does it end?" I exclaimed, my voice rising as my anger increased. 

"I don't see why you're so against this. It's not like I'm asking you to do something really crazy." 

"I just want my girlfriend to be there for me, to support me." he said, his voice filled with distress.

"And I support you, Hector. Every. Single. Day, I offer you my whole support. However, this is not like usually. It isn't just about us. It's all about the media, fans, and attention.

"It's genuienly too much."

Hector paused while walking, his eyes softening. "I had no idea that was giving you so much anxiety. I just thought... Maybe it was time to announce our relationship, I don't know."

With a shaky voice, I took a deep breath. "Hector, it's not that I don't want to be with you honestly. It’s just that I’m scared. Scared of what will happen when everyone knows. Scared of the pressure, the judgment."

"I apologize for pressuring you. Im sorry. I just... I want you to know that no award or event is equivalent to how much you mean to me. I just wanted everyone to see the girl i adore and love so very much."

"You don’t get it, Hector. You're used to the constant focus on you and your loved ones. I'm not famous in any way, nor do I desire to be."

Hector's face fell, guilt and regret obvious and clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry; I should've taken your feelings into consideration. I just assumed that-"

“You assumed what? That I would suddenly be fine with our private life being exposed to the world?” I interrupted, slowly feeling the anger rise in me.

“I thought we could handle it together,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But I’m not as strong as you think I am, Hector,” I said, my voice breaking. “I never cry, I never let things get to me. But this… it’s just too much. I can’t do it. What if they try to break us apart? It's so overwhelming. What if the media digs into our personal lives and spreads lies? What if your fans start hating me, or I say something wrong, and it affects you? The anxiety is eating me alive."

Feeling the weight of everything squeezing me, I shook my head. "Hector, I'm not as strong as you expect me to be. I can’t handle the thought of people judging us, criticizing us. With all this pressure, the idea of losing you is too much for me to handle."

"Hector, you just don't get it. You're used to being the focus of attention. However, I'm not. I'm more than scared, I'm basically petrified."

I looked aside, trying to cover my face as the tears I had been keeping back suddenly burst out. Hector stood there for a brief momentwatching me with a distressed expression. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. We don’t have to go public if you’re not ready. We can take our time,” he said, his voice gentle and soothing.

I leaned into his embrace, my sobs shaking my body. “Thank you. I just need time.”

He squeezed me even tighter and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "Take as much time as you need. I'm always here to support you. I love you."

The tension began to ease as we stood there, holding another closely. I knew that between us, we would get through this. That was the only thing that mattered for now.

first time ever writing angst hope its what you imagined while requesting 𖹭

[holylulusworld]

BFG (9)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings/Tags: pregnancy, fluff, light smut (unprotected), love confessions

Catch up here: BFG (8)

BFG masterlist

He watched you move on top of him with adoration in his eyes. Reacher carefully held your hips in a soft grip to help you guide your movement.

With your knees spread wide and your hands flat on the mattress, you slowly rocked forward and back while moving your hips down onto him on the downstroke.

“Fuck, peach pie. You look so beautiful on top of me,” he watched you place your hand on his wide chest to peck his lips. “I want you to take what’s yours.”

“You’re already mine,” you kiss him again, “aren’t you? You came back to me.” You whined feelings his cock twitch inside of you. “I want you to come inside of me, my big friendly giant.” You purred against his lips. “Please, baby.”

You already came twice and wanted nothing more than to feel him fill you up again.

“I could cum only by watching you ride me like the fiery woman you are,” he rumbled close to his release and dropped his hands from your hips to cup your face. “Peach pie, you fuck me so good.” Reacher purred as his warmth filled you.

“Wow,” you stopped moving, and carefully laid down on his chest to catch your breath. “That was…amazing.”

“You are amazing,” he whispered while running his big hand up and down your back. “I can’t believe you took me back after I left.”

“We didn’t part on bad terms, Reacher. I knew about your hobo lifestyle before you left,” you sniffled. “I just missed you so much. It’s crazy that I feel for you so hard in such a short time. You gave me the best thing ever happening in my life.”

“You gave me something I haven’t had in a long time,” his voice shook for a second, and you lifted your head from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“Food and a bed big enough for my giant?” You giggle. “Or mind-blowing sex.”

“A family,” he softly said, “and a place I want come back to. I was a hobo all my life, but know I found home in you, and our baby.”

“Reacher,” you sniffled and struggled to push the tears away. “You…I love you.” Before you could cry and ruin the moment you hid your face in his neck.

“I love you too, peach pie, and, yes, the bed too,” he chuckles while you shed a few happy tears. “It’s very stable. I think we should test its quality some more in the morning…”

“I see you kept him,” Frances dipped her head to watch Reacher sit on his seat at your diner. He smirked the moment you placed a plate with a slice of peach pie in front of him. “I guess you came back because she feeds you well.”

“You’re still around. Why?” Reacher glanced at Neagley and furrowed his brows. “I thought you said you’d leave town after I arrived.”

“I only made sure that you do not chicken out,” she replied and shrugged. “You know, to find out if I must hunt you down.”

“You stayed to get more cereals out of Y/N,” he smirked at her for a second before turning his attention toward the peach pie. “I came back for my peach pie.” He looked at the pie in front of him. “The pie is only a bonus.”

“Was that a dirty joke from you, Reacher?” She glanced at him, smirking. “Seriously? Major Reacher made a dirty joke.”

“I can be funny,” he grumbled. Reacher didn’t want you to believe that he’s a grump and has no sense of humor. If you believe he’s only good at repairing things and hurting people, you could change your mind and chase him away.

“Uh-huh,” Frances nodded slowly. “Sure, you can be funny, Reacher.”

“So, you two know each other from work. Have you been in contact for the whole time or,” you watched Reacher tense. He didn’t stay in contact with the rest of his former team. The only one he stayed in contact with was Neagley.”

“Reacher is not the kind of guy sending Christmas cards,” Frances hastily explained. “But if you need him, he’s there. You don’t have to explain anything. He jumps into a bus or airplane and comes to your rescue.”

You placed your hand on Reacher’s, giving him a soft smile. He was tense after your question and you regretted opening your mouth. Sometimes you just can’t stop yourself. “He’s a protector, and I couldn’t be happier having him around.”

Reacher visibly relaxed at your words. He knew by now that you’re not the kind of person who tells lies to make other people more comfortable.

“I love me a man who can eat too,” you gently ran your fingertips over Reacher’s hand while looking him deep in the eyes. “Especially when the person is willing to give something up to make another person happy.”

Neagley nods. She’s happy for Reacher, even if he’s a big and grumpy Klotz sometimes. – Or rather most of the time. He holds a special place in her heart and knows that somehow, she wormed her way into his heart too.

“You should reconsider your decision,” Frances laughs. “He’ll eat all your food, and did you see his size? You’ll never have enough space in your house again.”

“He can keep me warm in winter too. I like it cozy,” you smiled at him while squeezing his hand. “I think Reacher made my grandmother’s house a home.”

Tags in reblog.

[supermarvelgirl15]

Losing Dogs

Summary: “I bet on losing dogs. I always want you when I'm finally fine. How'd you be over me looking in my eyes when I come, someone to watch me die.” You and Jason finally cross a line that you thought you'd never cross, but was it too late to place your bets on your future?

Pairing: Jason Todd × f!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angsty babes, major character death, canon-typical violence, gun TW, in shock/panicky reader, poorly written fighting scenes

A/N: So, this is actually excerpts from a Jason × OC I've been writing about, but I changed it to be a × reader. If you want to hear more about them, please feel free to message me! I hope y'all enjoy this angst fest! Loosely inspired by I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski.

Main Masterlist

××××××

“We shouldn’t be out here, Jay. Bruce said—” 

“Since when do you always listen to what Bruce says?” Jason called back, continuing with his trek to the next rooftop. “If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to miss it!” 

You rolled your eyes, making the jump to the second roof. You had no idea what you were going to “miss” in the first place. Jason just came into your room and practically dragged you all the way into the city, refusing to tell you what he was doing. With your luck, Bruce would catch you in the act before you even reached your destination, wherever it was. 

Both of you should be back home, where Bruce told you to be. Alfred was going to freak out when he realized that neither of you were no longer in the manor. You could tell Jason was going stir-crazy ever since Bruce benched him from Robin for the time being. But did he have to drag you along with him? He didn’t even give you time to grab a coat. 

Even if Jason had given you a choice, you still would’ve gone. He’d been acting different lately. He’s been angry and taking too many unnecessary risks. Alfred said it had something to do with his parents who had died a few years ago, about him never having the chance to grieve them properly. You didn’t understand, but then again, you never had a family to grieve for before. 

So, you would brave this chilly Gotham night and take the repercussions, anything to see Jason be his upbeat happy self again. It used to annoy you; how happy he was to be Robin. Despite everything he had been through, he still only saw the joys of life. You hadn’t liked him for a long time, mostly because you misplaced your anger about Dick leaving onto his replacement. Jason’s constant flirting didn’t help either. 

It wasn’t fair to Jason, you had eventually realized. The day you finally let him in, you gained the most loyal friend you would ever have. Though, you would rather die than to admit it out loud. 

“Here we are!” Jason eagerly announced, turning to face Cynthia with a smile. You stepped up to the ledge, taking in the scene before you. You were on one of the taller buildings in Gotham, facing out towards the harbor. There were a few boats, but other than that...nothing. 

“You dragged me all the way out here just to sit on a roof? We could’ve done this at home,” you grumbled as you hugged your arms closer to yourself.  

Jason plopped himself down on the ledge, patting the place beside him. “Just trust me, will ya? It hasn’t started yet.” Begrudgingly, you sat down beside him, knocking your dangling feet into his to show your annoyance. 

A chill ran through you as you stared out into the dark water, your hands rubbing your arms to gain some kind of warmth. Jason must’ve seen you do it because he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “For you, milady,” Jason bowed. You just rolled your eyes, knocking your shoulder into his, causing you both to laugh. 

“You could scoot closer, you know? I run hot. I promise I won’t bite, unless you want me to,” Jason wagged an eyebrow at you with a smirk displayed on his lips. You scoffed, but scooted closer nonetheless. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into him until your thighs touched. 

You had never been this close to him, outside of training anyways. He really did run hot, his natural heat only making you snuggle closer to him. You noted how your movement made him stiffen for a moment and his fingers twitch on your arm, as if your act had caught him off guard. Did his breath hitch as well? Surely not. 

The two of you continued to sit there in silence, practically cuddling while you waited for whatever it was Jason wanted to show you. You found yourself watching Jason out of the corner of your eye, observing as he watched the waves splash against the dock that stretched out below you with a content look on his features. The wind blew his hair, making it a bigger mess than it was from your parkouring; you fought the urge to fix it for him. Even the lights from the surrounding city casted a glow against his skin, making him look younger than he was. He looked...handsome. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” 

Caught red-handed, you coughed as you turned away from him. You can’t be having these thoughts, not about him. “You got something in your teeth,” you lied. Jason hummed, obviously seeing right through you, but you could see him still checking his teeth with his tongue in your peripheral.  

“Well, you for one, look beautiful as always. Stunning even. Breathtaking. Would you like me to keep going?” Jason smiled, batting his eyelashes at you. 

You shook your head. “I would like you to tell me why we’re out here in...” Your voice trailed off as you turned to face him again, finding him staring at you. He had a weird look in his eye. Why was he looking at you like that? He shouldn’t be looking at you like that. Was something wrong? 

He’s leaning in now. Why is he leaning in? Is he going to kiss you? He can’t kiss you, you’re friends, partners. Do you want him to kiss you? Your mind’s going haywire. What do you do? You were never trained to deal with something like this. It’s just Jason. You trust Jason with your life, and you would do anything to protect his. Anything. Was it getting hot all of a sudden? 

Your thoughts quieted when Jason reached up to grab your chin, gently turning your face to look out into the water. Before you could question him, a spark of light shot up into the sky, exploding into colors. Then another, followed by more.  

Fireworks. He brought you here to watch fireworks. 

You watched in awe as the fireworks exploded into a mass of colors in the sky. It was so beautiful. Why hadn’t you really appreciated the beauty of fireworks before? The colors were magnificent in Gotham’s night sky. 

You tore your eyes away from the scene, eager to share your enjoyment with Jason, only to find that he wasn’t watching them. His eyes were still on you. The reflection of the exploding fireworks in them was even more beautiful. Why hadn’t you seen it before? 

Your eyes stayed locked on each other, as if you were in a trance. Jason started to lean in again, stopping halfway. You watched as his eyes darted to your lips, your heart pounding in your ears. Or was it Jason’s? 

Did you want this? Could you risk something so delicate with the person that meant the most to you in the entire world? You can’t do this life without him. That in itself should be an answer. How long had you felt this way? Were you always this blind? 

The movement of Jason pulling away brought you out of your mental debate, the disappointment in his eyes tugging at your heartstrings. Before you could fully register what you were doing, your hand shot out to his cheek, making Jason pause. You both glanced at the other’s lips. There was no going back now. 

Your lips crashed into his, the action surprising both of you. Jason’s hand cradled the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You couldn’t be close enough. What had stopped you from doing this sooner?  

Jason pulled back, the smile on his face contagious. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long, long time,” he admitted breathlessly as his thumb stroked your bottom lip. You smiled, kissing him once again. You were already addicted to the taste of him.  

His hand drifted down to your waist. “We could always take this—” 

“Don’t ruin the moment, lover boy,” you mumbled against his lips, earning a chuckle out of him. 

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself away from him, turning to rest your head on his shoulder with a content sigh. Jason continued to hold you tightly against him, kissing the top of your head. The long-forgotten fireworks still lit up the night sky, seeming to enter their grand finale. 

Jason watched as you gazed at the fireworks, a smile permanently etched on your lips. He couldn’t believe that he finally got to share a moment like this with you. He’d been dreaming of it for years. This has been the best night of his life. 

Especially after finding out his real mother was alive. 

He wanted to tell you about his discovery so badly, but he knew you’d talk him into waiting for Bruce to help. However, Bruce’s priority was the Joker at the moment, and he couldn’t wait for him to inevitably throw him back into Arkham. Jason needed to find his mom now. 

In the morning he’ll slip out while you're still sleeping, leaving a note on his bed. He’ll go get his mother and bring her back home. Then when he got back, Jason would have his very alive mother, but more importantly, he’d also be able to call you his. 

And he couldn’t be happier. 

You have to get there. This bike needs to go faster. Please God, let you get there.  

He shouldn’t have been by himself. Why did he go by himself? You should be there with him. This was your fault. Please God, let you get there. 

The warehouse was in view now. You're going to make it. Bruce was somewhere behind you, but you didn’t waste any time checking. You have to save him. 

You have to save Jason.  

You practically threw yourself off the bike, sprinting towards the door. This was it. You were going to make it. You were going to save him. You were going to save Ja— 

The warehouse exploded, the blast throwing you back a few feet, toppling into Bruce. It took you a few moments to shake yourself out of your stupor. When you looked back at the destroyed warehouse, everything stopped. 

No no no no no no no. 

“Jason?” His name barely left your lips in a whisper. This can’t be real. This had to be a nightmare, or maybe even a dose of Crane’s fear toxin. There was no way this was actually happening. 

Bruce’s voice sounded muffled in your ears. You couldn’t make out anything he was saying, but you didn’t care. You only cared about one thing right now, and he was somewhere out in the rubble. He could still be alive. Please God, let him still be alive. 

Your legs started running before you could register what you were doing. You had to find Jason. “Robin! Robin!” Please answer Jason. Why won’t he answer you? “Robin!” 

You came across a woman in the debris that was barely alive. She was the reason Jason was even here to begin with. His mother. Judging by her external injuries, there was no saving her. But there was still a chance for him. 

As Bruce tended to Jason’s mom, you continued your search. “Robin! Jason!” You didn’t care about aliases anymore. You just wanted him to answer you. “Jason—” 

Yellow. Red. Green. 

Oh God. 

Time froze when your eyes landed on Jason. Your body moved towards him, but it felt as if you were watching someone else take control of you. You grabbed his wrist, searching desperately for a pulse. Nothing. You checked his pulse point at his neck. Nothing. 

His face...Oh God, his face. What did that monster do to him? You could barely recognize him. Your Jason. You shakily reached up to cup his face, the coldness making you recoil. That’s not right. He runs hot, he should be hot. Why was he so cold? 

“J-Jay? Please, Jay. Wake up.” You couldn’t recognize your own voice. You cradled his body closer to yourself, searching for his warmth. “Jason, I-I can’t...you can’t leave me.” Specks of rain started to fall onto his lifeless face. No, that wasn’t rain. Were you crying? 

You choked out a sob, burying your face in his neck, willing him to wrap his arms around you. He didn’t. “Jason! Please don’t leave me!” Someone was screaming. Were you screaming? This can’t be real. “P-please.” 

Someone grabbed your shoulder, but that didn’t deter you. It could be the Joker for all you cared. At least he would put you out of your misery, take this pain in your heart away. 

The person said your name softly. You knew that voice. Bruce. It had to be Bruce. Why did he sound so far away? 

There was a lump in your throat. You couldn’t breathe. “I...Bruce, he, he’s so cold. He, he shouldn’t be...” You brushed his hair out of his face, your fingers numbly tracing the scars that now marked it. This shouldn’t have happened. Why did this happen? 

This was just a nightmare. A horrible, terrible nightmare. That’s all. This wasn’t real. 

Jason’s funeral was yesterday. It wasn’t a big turnout, but it was better that way. Even Dick showed up. It just goes to show that you don’t realize what a great thing you had until it’s gone.  

You hadn’t left Jason’s room since you came home from the funeral. You were content to rot right there in his bed. He wouldn’t want that, you knew, but it was the only way you could be close to him. 

You didn’t even hold back your tears anymore, letting them flow freely onto Jason’s pillow. God, it still smelled like him. It was almost like he was still here. He should be here. Why wasn’t he here? 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. You didn’t get enough time. Oh, why hadn’t you come to your senses earlier? Why were you so blind? You could’ve had more time. This wasn’t fair. 

This should never have happened. 

You were angry. God, you were so angry. Angry at the Joker, at Bruce, at yourself, at Jason’s mother, at Jason. Why did he go in there? Why did he have to die? He should’ve never been in Ethiopia, in that warehouse. His mother said he took the brunt of the blast, his last act being to protect the woman that brought him there in the first place. You were so angry. 

You would give anything to be able to tear him a new one. To scream at him. To grab him and shake him to his senses. To hold him and sob into his chest. He should be here. 

Jason should be here. 

It had been a few months since you were last in Gotham. You had been in the Middle East tracking down and taking apart human trafficking rings. You did all you could there, making sure every victim you rescued was able to go home or have somewhere safe to stay. Bruce even donated a small fortune to help their efforts. 

Speaking of Bruce, he’d been acting strange ever since you came back. It was just minor things that threw you off, but it was enough to let you know something was bothering him. Even Alfred couldn’t seem to look you in the eye. You’d have to ask Tim or Dick about it whenever you saw them next. 

Gotham itself felt different since the last time you were in the city. But then again, it hadn’t felt the same the last few years. You couldn’t dwell on that now. 

There was a new crime syndicate running the streets. Someone had apparently stolen Black Mask’s crown. You had just left one war only to come home to another. Home sweet bitter home.  

You found out on your own that the new crime lord was someone who called himself the Red Hood. According to the papers, even Batman already had some run ins with him. Bruce didn’t mention it though when you told him you were looking into it. He just stiffened and muttered “be careful” before leaving the room. Nothing too out of character for him.  

Red Hood. Wasn’t that an old alias of the Joker’s? You could feel your nails digging holes into your palms. Calm down. Just don’t think about him. 

Taking a deep breath, you grounded yourself to the situation at hand. You had found one of Hood’s narcotic stash houses. It was somewhat heavily guarded; seven outside, five inside, all armed. Nothing you couldn’t handle. You’d just tie them all up with a bow and call Gordon to pick them up. Easy. 

One by one, you took down the guards outside quietly, making sure not to alert the others. This was light work. Hood needed to hire better goons. Goons? Did anyone even say goons anymore? Henchmen? Whatever. 

Once you were finished with them outside, you made your way in through the rafters, watching as the men below anxiously paced the floors. Did they know you were here? There was no way. 

You dropped down silently behind one of them, putting him into a sleeper hold. Wow, these guys really sucked. 

“Someone’s here!” A man shouted from behind you, firing at you. You quickly dodged, using one of the drug crates for cover. Now this was going to be fun.  

You threw one of your mini daggers at his hand, making him drop his weapon with a curse. You jumped over the crate, grabbing his head to bring it down on your knee. The man fell to the floor with a thud, and you punched him hard until he was out cold. 

The other men started shouting threats as they started to surround you, guns aimed at you. You raised your hands in faux surrender, smirking as you threw down a smoke bomb. You dropped to ground as the men started coughing, using the distraction to kick their feet out from under them. 

Swiftly, you disarmed them, kicking their guns away from them. One of the men attempted to grab you from behind, but you used his momentum to throw him into one of the others. The third one grabbed your arm, causing you to twist back, grabbing the back of his head and slamming it against one of the crates. Only one guy was left, and he was making a break for it. You just rolled your eyes, throwing one of your mini daggers, the butt end hitting the back of his head. His head hitting the ground as he fell was hard enough to knock him out.

Like you said, easy. 

Now you just had to call the commissioner, after you did some snooping around first. Done and do— 

“I didn’t know you made it back to Gotham.” 

You whipped around to face the source of the modulated voice, your hands posed in a fighting position. Your eyes took the intruder in, his height causing him to tower over you. He also had a broad frame, muscular too. A red bat-like symbol adorned his chest, partly covered by his leather jacket. There were holsters strapped to his thighs, along with various other weapons scattered everywhere else. Your eyes finally made their way up to his face, only to see that it was covered by a red helmet. 

Red Hood. 

“I’ll admit. I was a little disheartened to see that you stuck with the Bat. I thought if anyone would understand it’d be you.” Red Hood continued, squatting down to check over the contents of a crate that had broken open during your fight with the guards. 

You raised a brow, confusion evident on your face even with your mask. What was he talking about? “I... I’m sorry? Do I know you?” You had asked it half-jokingly, but the way Red Hood had tensed at your words made you question it. 

He stood back up to his full height, helmet tilting slightly as he watched you. “He didn’t tell you, did he?” A dry chuckle crackled through his modulator. “Maybe it’s better that way.” 

This was getting weird. Maybe the guy was just off his rocker. He surely wouldn’t be the first in Gotham. “Okay... Well, if you don’t mind, Mr. Hood, I’d like to get home at a decent hour tonight. So, it would really help me out if you just went ahead and surrendered.” You quipped, your fingers inching towards your daggers.  

Red Hood laughed, shaking his head as he turned away from you. “Not tonight, sweetheart. I still got some things to take care of,” he waved you off over his shoulder as he headed toward the door. 

Sweetheart. 

A surge of anger coursed through your body, your vision—fittingly—becoming red. You threw your daggers at Hood’s back, but he dodged out of the way, narrowly missing them. Before he could completely turn back to face you, you were already on top of him. 

“Don’t. Call. Me. Sweetheart.” You grunted between jabs, which Red Hood blocked with ease. He was an experienced fighter; he had to be if he had Bruce on his toes. But you weren’t Bruce.  

Your eyes latched onto a sliver of a bandage poking out from his collar on the left side of his neck. A weakness. You were quick to exploit it, ramming your elbow into it. Red Hood cried out and you used his momentary pain to swing him into the wall. 

Before you could do anything else, Hood kicked you back, pushing you away. He grabbed your leg when you tried to kick back, throwing you down on the ground hard. Using his knee to pin you down, he pressed his forearm against your neck. 

“When’d you start fighting dirty? Must’ve hit a sore spot, huh?” Red Hood teased, his words laced with some hidden meaning. Who was this guy? Why did he act like he knew you? You were getting sick of it. 

With your legs, you flipped Hood over your head, pushing his arm off your neck as he went. You jumped up only to fall once again when your ankle got yanked out from under you. Hood attempted to pin you again, but you kicked the side of his helmet with a frustrated yell. This time you were able to get away, jumping back up into the rafters. 

Hood climbed up after you, not giving up. You leaped over to another beam, the wood under your feet creaking loudly. It was about to give. An idea popped into your head. 

You stayed there, eagerly waiting for Red Hood to catch up. As soon as he made a lunge towards you, you jumped up and grabbed the beam above you. It was too late to realize his mistake when Hood’s feet landed on the beam, causing it to break under his weight. You even threw a couple daggers at him for good measure. 

However, Red Hood quickly flipped off the beam right before it completely gave way, twisting his body to also miss your daggers. He tumble rolled when he hit the ground, bouncing back up on his feet right after. 

How did he do that? You couldn’t believe it. He really was good. You hadn’t seen someone pull something like that off since you and Ja— 

No. 

Your recent fight with Red Hood flashed through your mind in spinning images, ticking off his every move. You had thought it seemed familiar, but not that familiar. Every move, every fluid motion Red Hood made was just like his. That can’t be. There was no way two different people that have never met fought the exact same way. It was too coincidental. 

You jumped back down to the ground, staggering slightly as you stared at the man before you. Neither of you said a word as you watched one another, not moving a muscle. Something wasn’t right. 

“Who... Who taught you how to fight?” You finally spoke, your words echoing in the space between you. Red Hood just continued to stare at you, his fingers twitching at his side. No. That was his thing. Why was Hood doing that? Why did he do everything just like him? He had so much to say earlier, what’s stopping him now?  

Hood didn’t even move as you advanced on him, pushing him back against the wall. You pulled out your own gun and held it against his throat. He made a surprised sound, his body tensing under you. It was only loaded with Bruce’s paralyzing snake venom, but he didn’t need to know that.  

“Who are you?!” You screamed at him, pressing your gun harder against him. There had to be some kind of explanation.  

Hood grunted uncomfortably, looking up at you. “I think you already know,” he muttered. You shook your head, your never ending anger bubbling back up to the surface. He didn’t know what he was talking about. There was no way. 

A sound came from behind you, but before you could react, Red Hood shoved you off of him. With zero hesitation, he unholstered his gun, shooting it beside your head. You whipped around, ringing in your ears, only to see one of Hood’s men with a gun in his hand and a bullet in his head. He just killed his own man. To save your life. 

Slowly, you turned back to face him. Red Hood was still holding his gun, already watching you, seeming to gauge your reaction. After a long moment, he mumbled “might as well” before holstering his gun. Then he reached up to his helmet, unlatching it and sliding it off his head. 

You stumbled backwards as all your oxygen left your lungs. He had dark hair with two white tuffs at the front. He had a scar that came down the side of his left temple, and another down his right jaw. There was a smaller scar at the corner of his mouth, along with one under his left eye which was partly covered by his domino mask.  

His eyes, oh God, those eyes. The last time you saw them there was no life behind them. There seemed to be more green in them than you remembered. But that can’t be right. Those can’t be his eyes. It’s impossible. You held his cold body for hours. You watched him get buried. This can’t be real. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”  

Your eyes widened as Red Hood spoke those words. His voice... 

No... It can’t be. 

But it is. 

“Jason?”

××××××

[angelsanarchy]

What It Cost: Samuel Lafferty x Y/N Mini Series PRT 06

Tagging: @ithinkitstimetonap @kappasbbgirl @chainsawgvtsfvck @luzclarita57 @miniisunshine @madamemaximoff06 @romanroyapoligist @thirtyratsinasuit @ethical-cain-vinnel @blueberrypancakesworld @dumbbitchdelrey @loljustignoreth4t @tvgirlsbluehair @s0ulfulll @dukesofsp00ks @mommymilkers0526 @vomiting-blood @lustkillers @s-0lar @hisemoslut @roryculkinsgf @ultrakissed

Y/n had noticed Sara pushing her away after she recovered from illness. She asked her repeatedly had she done something wrong but she always just brushed it off as if nothing had happened. She desperately wanted to ask Samuel about it but he had been too wrapped up in Dan's new venture into running for County Sheriff.

Most of the family supported the run but Y/n much like Brenda and a few quiet others knew that running on a libertarian no tax bid wasn't even going to get him on the ballot.

The last time she got to have a conversation with Samuel, he was short with her and distracted. He blew her off a few times so she decided to stop wasting his time. It wasn't until the town parade that Dan was featured in that he approached her.

"Hey, I hear you did the float. It looks nice." Y/n shook her head.

"Thank you. The girls helped." She kept her eyes on the parade and Samuel bumped her shoulder.

"Everything okay? You seem...distant." Samuel seemed concerned.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired from putting the float together but I fully plan to go to bed early once I get home tonight. After meeting with your father of course." Samuel's attention was caught.

"What meeting with my father? He hasn't mentioned-

"He has found a member of the church he wishes me to meet. He thinks we would make a perfect couple. Who knew your father was a real matchmaker." Samuel's jaw clenched.

"He's hardly a matchmaker. More like overbearingly controlling of who is allowed into our family and who isn't." Samuel had a ton of disdain in his tone as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I think he's just being kind. Him and your mother aren't big fans of me getting my own little apartment. They worry about me being by myself in the evenings." Y/n felt Samuel's eyes on her.

"Do you find you get scared alone in the evenings?" Samuel asked earning a shrug.

"It would be nice to know someone was there to protect me if I needed it." Samuel moved to be in Y/n's eyeline.

"Do you not trust me to protect you?" He almost looked offended.

"Samuel, you are not mine to turn to for protection. You have a wife and a hoard of children you must protect." She chuckled trying to lighten the tension but he wasn't phased.

"I can still be there to protect you until you fall asleep and go home after-

"Samuel, you cannot give me what I want. Maybe I was a fool in thinking you could but maybe this match that your father has will set me up to have what you have with Sara." Samuel pulled Y/n to the side, away from the others and she finally looked him in the eyes.

He was something she had never seen before. He was hurt and worried.

"What can't I give you? I will give you anything you want Y/n. Please just tell me what that is." He pleaded.

"I want a family of my own. I want a husband I can wake up to every morning. I want a baby that's a creation of love and all things good so that they can be raised in this community without knowing what loneliness ever is. I want a love I can call my own." She explained as Samuel nodded.

"I can give you those things. I know I can." Samuel took her hand not bothering to notice anything that was happening around them. He took her behind the building where the was a small alcove that hid them from the rest of the world for just a moment.

"You want to have my baby? I will give you a baby. I will give you all the babies you want." Samuel kissed her neck and Y/n let her eyes roll back as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Samuel-"

"Please, don't let go of the idea of us. I want you more than anything and I know once Dan talks with the others, they will all get on board with plural marriage. I want nothing more than to make you my own. You just have to be patient, please." Samuel sounded so anxious as he begged. Y/n had never seen this side of him. She reached to the front of his slacks and he immedately started to pull his cock out, picking her up off her feet and allowing her to push her panties aside for him to enter her.

They knew they had to be quiet in their lustfull acts as they were still in public. Samuel fucked into her hard and Y/n felt her back scrape against the brick.

"I want you so badly. I want to make you my wife and have four little girls and four little boys." Samuel whined as he he held his hand over Y/n's mouth to conceal her moans.

"Oh Samuel. I love you so much. I want that with you. I want to feel your babies growing inside of me." Y/n whimpered. Samuel's sweat collected on his forehead as he grew closer to cumming.

"Open your eyes. I want you to look at me when I pump my seed into you." Sam forced his hips harder and harder until he finally released inside of her. Y/n's jaw dropped and felt his hips stutter as his cum filled her cunt and dribbled down her skin.

Samuel released her legs slowly and put his fingers inside of her as if to keep his cum in place. He rested his head against her shoulder and she put her hand on his face.

"You love me?" Samuel breathed with a smile.

"Of course I love you. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you Samuel Lafferty." She chuckled stroking his cheek.

"I love you too..very much. I want nothing more than to please you." Samuel kissed her sweetly fixing her skirt and adjusting himself back in his slacks.

"Do you really think you'll be able to stay with me one of these nights?" Y/n asked hopeful. Samuel nodded his head.

"I will do my very best. Besides...we've got to spend more time trying to make a baby." Samuel kissed her once more before they looked each other over to walk from the alcove to join the family. Y/n watched Samuel the rest of the evening and hoped for a beautiful future with him.

[olivegardenhunter]

The sannin as normal childhood friends who have sleepovers and play games in the forest and bond over liking "gross" animals

anon thank you SO much for this mental image. you have made my very miserable assignment-filled day. I have many thoughts about the sannin and baby sannin being inseparable best friends who were just normal kids make up about 90% of them. here's some hc I have about that (sorry for the massively long post, I'm a yapper at heart)

yes absolutely. I like to think of the sannin as misfits who never fit in anywhere else except with each other. there's so many different reasons for this. we know they became genin at age 6. if this makes them the exception, rather than it being the normal practice for a village in tumultuous times, then this must have meant each of them were prodigies in their own rights in the academy (yes, even Jiraiya I'd say, though I'd suspect his was more a case of recognised potential rather than showing any obvious prodigal talent from the get-go). this is further reinforced by the fact the third hokage became their sensei. I doubt the hokage would've taken up any random group of genin as his students. if this is the case, can you imagine how difficult it must've been for them to make friends with others, their age or otherwise? not only would it be hard to relate to their other peers cause of the age and probably ability gap, but I'd imagine people would've found them downright intimidating! all this, along with all their individual personality which, if their 6 year old selves were anything like their 50 year old selves, would've meant the little baby sannin would not have been anyone's first choice of friends.

so I'd imagine each of them being a bit of loners in the academy. then they get put in a team together. recognise they each stick out like a sore thumb from everyone else, but have all of the above common ground. their personalities are difficult for each to get used to initially, but once they do, these three super super super quickly become absolutely inseperable. to call them family would've been a serious underestimate of their relationship imo.

anyway this is all a long winded way of saying YES they're absolutely those regular childhood best friends who have sleepovers and hang out and play games. I imagine that tsunade grew up with a massive family in a massive loving home. direct contrast to orochimaru who's an orphan and, I imagine jiraiya is an orphan too (hence no canon last name). therefore, the senju compound is typically the designated sleepover venue.

the senju compound has mito, and nawaki, and depending on what your hcs are, would have tsunades parents, and I'd think they'd still effectively live like royalties even if the first and second are dead. (hashirama and tobirama wouldn't be around anymore by the time the three became genin I think, because (and someone correct me if I'm wrong) hiruzen would've already been hokage when he took on the three of them as his students, meaning tobirama would have already passed)

jiraiya and orochimaru just being at awe at the way tsunade lives and just how lively her house is and tsunade is just happy to have kids her age at home with her that just gets her cause her parents always nag her about training and chores, mito still treats her like a baby even though she's already a Shinobi that can take care of herself damn it!, and nawaki is so young he's so boring and sometimes gets annoying. so she always convinces her fellow teammates to come over to her house to practice and train, to babysit nawaki with her, to be the test dummy for try out this new jutsu or technique she's learning, and anything else that she insists she cannot do alone and needs them to be there with her

until suddenly it's already dark and oh her teammates can't possibly walk home all alone at this hour and besides my mum's making dinner and it's your favourite jiraiya and she'd scold me if I didn't offer some to you guys and orochimaru, mito found some sort of old scroll that uncle tobirama wrote about a new jutsu that she wants your thoughts on and besides, we have to meet sensei soooo early tomorrow for our mission and the training ground is closer from my house anyway, and you guys are just trying to get out of the bet we made and that's cheating y'know! and and and suddenly the senju compound just so happen to always have a few sets extra clothes and pyjamas that just so happened to be orochimaru and jiraiya's size and hey oro, raiya, look! it's got toads and snakes! and it matches mine! and the adults always just so happen to have two extra plates set at the table during meals, and the house just so happens to always be stocked up with both her teammate's favourite snacks, and orochimaru and jiraiya can suddenly enter the senju compound at any time of the day, with or without tsunade, and are greeted joyfully by the household's residents who had started nagging at them about training and chores and picking up after themselves, and mito is treating them like babies even though they're fully trained shinobis! and nawaki is being sooo annoying today and damn it, why isn't tsunade home yet? we agreed to train at 3!

(the three of them never quite notice that jiraiya or orochimaru's unannounced visits to the senju compound never trigger any of the seals that are activated by the presence of non-senju, non-family chakra in the compound. they never quite notice that the anbu guards at the front never give jiraiya and orochimaru any of the trouble or scrutiny that any visitors or guests to the senju compound are always subjected to, and the guards merely let them in with a slight bow of their heads, the same way they would to tsunade, or mito, or her parents.)

the only other times the sleepover isn't at tsunade's place is when there's a thunderstorm and orochimaru insists he needs to spend the night at his apartment because he tells them that last time the storm was this bad, lightning had struck a branch that smashed through his apartment that, if he wasn't already there and was even a little slower, would have destroyed the very few things his parents had left him that he so carefully keeps in a chest and he cannot ever take the risk that that would ever happen again he lost his power and his food went bad in his fridge, and c'mon tsu, you know oro not-so-secretly has a fear of thunder! don't you remember what happened last time at that mission where we were camping? we can't possibly let him spend the night alone at his house!

(later on when they're older, they'll come to find that jiraiya's new jonin apartment will become the new designated sleepover venue as jiraiya begins bringing back questionable sake from his missions that they were definitely too young to be having that he could not have possibly obtained that legally, and mito started banning them from playing card games at the senju compound when she noticed her granddaughter's tendency to lose her entire pay packet in a single game was becoming a bit too familiar to her... like a certain husband of hers' gambling habits that she had tried so hard to make sure wouldn't get passed on to the grandchild who the man had unwittingly taught said card games to at the age of 4. jiraiya started to call his apartment the degenerates' club then, much to the other two's dismay. though they couldn't quite protest when he correctly pointed out they were absolutely behaving like degenerates, even if princess tsunade and the leaf's once-in-a-generation prodigy felt like they were above those sort of disreputable behaviour.)

jiraiya and orochimaru fight tooth and nail that the massive forest that makes up the backyard of the compound, created by the shodaime himself of course, is the only reason they choose to hang out with tsunade at the senju compound, because princess tsunade (dammit oro stop calling me that!), the shodaime hokage seemed to have left so many fascinating things in this forest, there's so many secrets to discover. I don't think I've seen any of these species anywhere else in Konoha. I believe the secrets to some of his jutsu or techniques lie in this forest... oro you're such a nerd. and besides, Princess, the snakes here really seem to like oro for some reason and I think the toads are about to make me their king, I'm sure of it! and also, me and oro are the only people who don't find the fact you use the slime from those slugs in your potions or whatever absolutely disgusting, so we're the only friends you have to play in this gigantic forest with in the first place (it's not potions, it's a new medicinal gel I'm creating! and can you two just shut up? hide and seek is supposed to be a SILENT game and right now, you both really suck at it! I can literally locate you without even moving!) ...hey tsu, is mito-sama going to make those cookies she made last time again? she told me yesterday she would cause hiruzen-sensei told her we did a good job on our last mission.

the three of them knew everyone in Konoha had started calling them the 'Hokage's brats' behind their backs. but none of them realised that, particularly among the elders, this didn't seem to just be in reference to their sensei... there were other, more hushed whispers going around that if they had tried to listen to, would've sounded something like the adopted senjus... or lord first and second's legacies...

(these rumours may or may not have started when people started noticing tsunade's parents went from talking about their two children they adored, to their three rascals plus sweet little nawaki. or when mito kept comparing jiraiya's antics and personality to hashirama or orochimaru's brooding nature and hunger for knowledge was like tobirama's, or how tsunade's own hot temper and tenacity but also mischief was like her own's and the many Uzumakis that came before her, and that all three of them together balanced each other the way she, hashirama, and tobirama had. or when hiruzen constantly raves about his students and how much he sees his senseis in each of them and how the will of fire burns so brightly in them that he knew lord first and second would be extremely proud to see. in the end, though tsunade may have been the only one who shared a name with the senju founders, everybody couldn't help but see hashirama and tobirama and everything they had been and everything they had stood for in all three of the legendary sannin.)

[berryblu-soda]

Anyways update i just didnt bother to post earlier:

fr God is good and the whole car crash my parents got into last week was so incredibly mild in terms of injuries!!!! worst was a bruised knee im pretty sure

ALSO-

*taps mic* HUG YOUR FREAKING LOVED ONES OR SO HELP ME!!!!!!!

[piplupod]

mother: "theres this great job where you'd be on-call to come in!"

me: "ahhh i don't really want to be on-call, that would stress me out a lot because I'd always be on edge,,"

mother: "no you wouldn't, you could make it your thing!"

me: "...my thing?"

mother: "being on call! it'd be great! :)"

me: "i would probably be crying like... a lot ahaha. because I would always be on edge never knowing when to expect having to go into work, yknow?"

mother: "nooo, you could just make it a thing!"

me: "sorry, what do you mean by thing?"

AND I NEVER FOUND OUT !!

[fragmentedblade]

Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans

[seventh-fantasy]

Vegas Theerapanyakul, heir of the minor family.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how the minor family is presented in the image of traditional Chinese mafia / triads - a stark contrast to how the main family appears like a corporation. I couldn’t stop thinking about how that that means they would have emphasised on values of community and loyalty. Although the show doesn’t go far and deep into it in the main narrative, there are clues that this is more than just an aesthetic choice of their living compound and dressing - particularly pertaining to Vegas’ character (and because of course that’s all i care about).

Visually, we see that in their Guan Gong worship (typical deity worship by triads), the locals hanging around at the shophouse front of the manor, and also in the group feasts (I had such a good mini exchange in the tags with @bocje-ce-ustu​ about this that made me want to write this post). This post expounds on this nature of the minor family so much better in detail. *blows kisses to op*

Since we didn't get to see enough of Vegas papa outside of being VP's plot device, we don’t know a reliable amount about him to determine how his leadership style was like to have us seeing what we saw around the minor family house. Personally I just can’t take Kan’s character in ep 11-13 too seriously. He literally appears to bitchslap Vegas based on the most simplistic *handwaves* reasons and then he was gone - as if you didn’t need to go through the hassle to cross the river to get to the safehouse. (crossing rivers everyday just to bitchslap your son? that’s some commitment) The earlier episodes and ep 14 may be more reliable but it’s still limited.

Nevertheless, how did he raise Vegas as a heir of such a community? I want to think that as much as a piece of shit we saw Kan as for most his screentime, he still had a strong sense of their triad values in his blood, and it gets into Vegas as a person (for better or for worse). At the very least, he was shown seated with the rest of the gang at the table (in the above screenshot). How did such a community raise Vegas as a potential successor in general? What was his and Macau’s childhood like? (I have not read the novel so don’t @ me.)

It’s so interesting to think about those given what a complex guy Vegas turned out to be. (Complex as a character itself but also made even more complex with how the narrative over the episodes had nebulously shaped audience perception of him - like, you can get a different side of Vegas in each episode and have no idea where the fake or real Vegas starts and ends as we saw him. That ended up being a charm of his character.)

-

(Vegas + Kan + Macau + minor family community)

I got the impression that it has been pretty much assumed that Macau could also be frequently physically abused by Kan like he does with Vegas, and so Vegas would have to actively protect Macau. But also consider this possibility: Kan just doesn’t hit Macau at all. It’s only Vegas he hits.

Macau simply doesn’t strike me as someone who has to live in constant mortal fear. He’s innocently mischievous and sociable; clearly not as emotionally burdened as Vegas. But he's not naive. He’s aware of Vegas’ plans and whatever politics is going on in his extended family. I just don’t believe that Vegas’ form of protection and care for Macau is to completely hide all the ugly stuff from him like what Porsche did with Chay.

At the same time, Vegas is too much of a pleaser to be opposing his dad all the time for Macau to be consistently safe and stable. Especially considering that we can safely guess that him talking back to his dad at the safehouse in ep 13 was one of the first times he had explicitly stood up to his dad in some way. (a side note: the way Kan responded may seem on-the-nose after a succession of Kan scenes just appearing out of thin air to hit Vegas and galvanise the VP narrative - but it hits a raw nerve like yeap I 100% believe that’s how an Asian parent would respond to such a statement from their kid.)

That’s because Kan’s expectations for Vegas, the eldest son and potential successor, just aren’t the same as for Macau, the younger son.

I can imagine Kan putting all his attention, energy, and pressure on Vegas - not only as his heir but a chess piece in his competition with his older brother and the main family. At a cultural-social level, as an eldest son of a family, like a crown prince, he was fed with expectations that he is the leader of his people - that he will have responsibilities to them and to conduct himself with grace. But at the same time, because of personal and familial reasons, he was also fed the belief that he and his family will forever be inferior to the main family - having anger and bloodlust be seeded and harnessed in him to be used on the main family.

On the other hand, I see more realistically of Kan as a neglectful father to Macau. As a second son, Macau isn’t anything to Kan in business sense and just too young to be useful to him. Thus, we have Kan insisting that Macau is useless (SLANDER) despite Macau having done nothing to offend him. It’s precisely that Kan doesn’t do anything but the bare minimum with Macau and lets him be, that he thinks that Macau had wound up as “useless”. It checks out.

Like what many have pointed out, Vegas surely would have taken up the responsibility of giving the care and love to Macau that they never get from their father. Essentially, Vegas had to fulfill Macau’s emotional needs (to his best) while being actively hurt by his father and strangled by his expectations.

So, imagine Macau as a much younger child having to watch his older brother get beaten or go through corporal punishment (kneeling before the ancestral altar, anyone? wow I’m so original). It’s then Macau who may have been protecting or provides relief to his older brother in some way or another. He knows - largely - what his older brother has to go through, and it is this Macau who probably gets confided and eventually got in the knows of his brother’s schemes.

On this note, it’s probably worth noting that there’s after all a community around them so Vegas may not have had to raise Macau - emotionally and socially - all alone. Of course, these are merely weak ties - given that those underlings are socially inferior to the brothers and they clearly still show deference to Vegas. So what their presence can do to fill the voids of the brothers’ family life is only so limited. The important thing, however, is that the brothers do have a community that surrounds them. A community that has already pledged loyalty to the family. A community that would care and show respect - any inkling of non-hostile social interaction - to their young masters which their own immediate family couldn’t offer. A community that Vegas as a heir would have been drilled into his head since day one that he is obligated to keeping together. This sense of community, as vague as it was, preserved Vegas emotionally somewhere deep down, grounding him to be a person that still has the capacity to care for others - to be human.

This isn’t anything nearly suggested in drama canon, but the many families and street vendors working for them doting on and showing tenderness to the brothers as children is an image I have in my head.

Vegas personally has no problem being respectful and affable with the people who are supposedly lower in status than him. Evident in ep 7 (ep 7 my beloved) from how he interacts with them - addressing them in familiar, polite terms: he even calls the street vendor khun lung - uncle, inclusive of honorifics(!) It’s also in how he entertained Porsche, Pete and Arm like they’re his guests and not his family’s bodyguards. He repeatedly makes sure they’re fed: first he offers moo ping to Pete and Arm then shortly after he asks again whether they’re hungry. These are the kind of manners that are inculcated in a traditional Chinese family, in which you show respect to anyone older than you and make sure your guests are never hungry. Even if he was overdoing this just for Porsche at this moment, it was an act he was willing to put up and in a manner of his choice.

(On this note of Vegas’ manners and politeness, I can never forget how much I love Vegas politely pre-empting Porsche and co. at the beginning of his torture session in ep 7 that they would be uncomfortable. like?? thank you evil man?? that’s so considerate of you)

(Just realised that there’s even a plate of buns?? On...a gambling table...?? Minor family is serving their guests well.)

It was so intentional of the drama to dedicate time to scenes of Vegas and co. entering the market and through to the minor family manor and office, even when it didn’t necessarily have to - apart from the purpose of illustrating Vegas' character. If the Vegas we saw in early episodes hanging around main family compound was indisputably a pretense as he was in foreign territory, then this Vegas being in his home ground was surrounded by an expectation to see him being supposedly who he really is. Partly due to Porsche being around, we still see the same Vegas - but now with an inkling of the idea that how he acted with Porsche before is also how he acts daily in his own space: He has to pretend. Socially, that is who he is. (See why he and Pete are mirror images of each other). Those moments of going after Porsche wasn’t an exception he was making for Porsche as the prey and his Grand Scheme. All the more, this makes the ending scene of ep 4, the first time we saw him truly all alone, fascinating to watch.

-

(Vegas + Porsche)

I guess tangentially related is...how I found the Soft™ Vegas of ep 13-14 in his interactions with Porsche so fascinating because it does instinctively feel different. Was it just the effect of Pete in the most romance drama cliche fashion or does it adhere to Vegas as a character? Sometimes you have to take the way this show portrays its characters with a pinch of salt because it does take liberties with using them as plot device when it is needed of them. But I’m going to say this side of Vegas is also him. It feels different because it’s the barest we’ve seen of him emotionally yet.

Porsche makes for an ideal litmus test of who Vegas really is because of their past mode of interaction for comparison and also Vegas’ character gets to exist outside of romantic/familial narrative filters in this case. With Porsche no longer being his prey and his newfound attachment to Pete, he had nothing to hide, and now there’s even a reason to bare himself to others.

This is me extrapolating at this point but - when he calls Porsche to warn him of the impending coup - despite not actually being friends, that just  *handwaves* spelt out like an act of 义气 to me. 义气 has apparently been translated as “righteousness” but acknowledged to contain cultural connotations too complicated for the translation to be wholly representative. If I had to describe the connotations according to my understanding of it, it’s an idea of a code of honour and brotherhood - in some ways favours and debt-based. So you commonly see that term associated with triads and secret societies.

At this point, Porsche and Vegas are expressively in a collaborative relationship, they helped each other out on what each other needed the most at that point. Vegas is indebted to Porsche. So, even during a time of crisis, he made sure to help Porsche out one last time based on their short-lived allyship and Porsche’s favour to him. But it was a situation beyond his control, so he pays back what he owed, and that was it. Given his upbringing, it is then no surprise that he has such a strong principle and value in him. Vegas is a villain - yes, even after falling in love with Pete and all - but a villain with a code of honour.

-

(Vegas + Kan + Pete)

Vegas has 义 (yi, righteousness) and he has 忠 (zhong, loyalty) too: with his father. Vegas clinging to his father despite the toxicity and destructive nature of their relationship - even if to the point of silliness and *chef’s kiss* pathetic - can perfectly be explained as something innately human. But on top of that, the way and the degree he went for his father’s approval was likely also culturally enforced given the environment he was brought up in.

Back to the Guan Gong, aka god of loyalty, worship at the minor family house. I didn’t get to talk much about this in the post I made about it but it’s definitely worth going into it here about Guan Gong:

Just as important, at the grassroots level of society Guan Yu became a kind of patron saint or protector god for everyone from blacksmiths and opera performers to triads and police officers. (...) Guan Yu’s steadfast, sometimes bullheaded adherence to the principle of zhongyi proved key to his meteoric rise. China’s emperors, who valued loyalty in their subjects, saw Guan Yu’s obedience and respect for his superiors as a value worth propagating. To ordinary people, meanwhile, it was Guan Yu’s yi that made him a legend worth believing in. (...) Guan Yu was capable of acts of cruelty and extreme violence, but his yi manifested as a strict code of behavior and sense of honor, two necessary components of any good folk hero. If anything, the flawed side of Guan Yu’s yi actually enhanced his popularity with regular people — his imperfections only made him seem more relatable. (x)

Sounds familiar.

When you swear loyalty - in the presence of the Guan Gong idol, you swear to give everything you have to the organisation. This loyalty is unquestioning and servile. And that’s the kind of loyalty Vegas has to his father. We know that he pleases his father because he craves for his father’s love and recognition - but why this way? Why is he doing it so willingly? Even by the end of the show he barely showed anger and hatred towards his father. He lashes out at the situations of being let down by his dad, but not at his dad (at least that’s what I think) - because he then goes back home and was 100% ready to go kill some people just because his dad wanted to and he never considered once he could defy that. Perhaps this is why.

So when Pete prays to Guan Gong - in Vegas’ home, it’s as if unwittingly pledging his loyalty (and obedience) to Vegas - even before he or the audience was supposed know anything that was going to happen. That’s just a coincidence, yes? While I don’t think Pete was doing that because he was thinking about swearing loyalty to the minor family but just a general sentiment of ‘I see a deity figure and I will pay respects to it for general good blessing’, it was indeed in Pete’s nature to do that. Nothing is a coincidence. Once again, they’re mirror images of each other.

-

(Vegas + the main family)

The first time we saw Vegas and Korn in the same room was when Macau came running in to the meeting room after getting bashed in his head. But the first time we really saw them interacting was in ep 14 (correct me if I’m wrong though). I love that scene for so many reasons and all of them are because of Vegas and it being the culmination of the family drama in the show (!!!! bounces in excitement)

This face when Vegas realised that his uncle had killed his father and was about to draw his gun at him:

It just struck me that it was nothing like all the faces he had made before when he was about to torture or kill Kinn/Porsche earlier in the episode too. This is just the face of a boy broken for life, yes?

He draws his gun but he doesn’t shoot right away. Why? What directly got him retreating was not at all Pete telling not to shoot - Pete said that before Vegas drew his gun and was standing away from Vegas’ sight the whole time. It was only right after Korn dismisses his guards and tells Vegas that he will take care of him and Macau, that Vegas stops and leaves.

His uncle just killed his father - maybe it was an inevitable ending he was expecting. But was he expecting his uncle to react so calmly and even extend mercy to his family? I want to know so badly what their relationship was like. How did they interact all along before this? Judging from what we’ve seen of Korn, I’m sure he would have been a respectable and presentable uncle. I’m sure they had family gatherings especially when grandfather (who kidnapped Porsche mama) was still alive.

Hesitating to shoot such an uncle, for a man with a strong sense of loyalty and family? Sounds fair. I would like to think that is the reason of his struggle there since Vegas has no qualms about killing people. Killing people is fine for him but killing his uncle is different. Additionally, I like to think that he was also thinking about Macau’s well-being. If he died here as a murderer of the main family’s leader, what would happen to Macau?

Also bringing us to this one shot in this same scene of Kinn gently shaking his head at Vegas pointing his gun at Kinn’s own dad:

I’m enthralled. It wasn’t an expression of anger or disgust, it was deep disapproval hand in hand with concern. Or something like that. I don’t know if Vegas saw that but I would like to see his face if he registered that. It just felt like a conscious choice to me that Kinn was shown doing this in the midst of an intense moment between his dad and his cousin. I want to know what was going through his brain.

What I would like to extrapolate from this is that there is ultimately not really any real hostility between them, personally. Just as Korn had (even for secretly manipulative reasons) shown gentleness and mercy as a family member to his nephew who was trying to kill him at that moment, I want to think so that Kinn was raised to react similarly except without the ulterior motives Korn harbours.

Did they get along as kids somehow? How have they always been interacting with each other before Porsche came into the picture? I can’t shut up about how Vegas has always referred to Kinn in affectionate familial terms - as p’rung (idk the correct romanisation), the second brother. (Hits close to home because I also refer to my own cousins on sibling terms). Even when he had been harbouring desires to kill Kinn, they’re still family. The only reason he wanted so badly to kill Kinn is the agony that he can never get away from the fact that his family is beneath his. It’s that they are, unfortunately, family.

I lowkey resent that I don’t really have much to say about Vegas and Kinn’s relationship in relation to the topic of this post. I just love them as each other’s foils - both forced to grow up too soon as crown princes of their families and main protectors of their brothers but each raised by two quite different fathers who are brothers in rivalry + Vegas having a one-sided obsessive rivalry with Kinn which is just too funny. The drama sadly doesn’t give me as much as I would have wished for. But we make do. <3

-

That’s all. ✌️

[lanternmice]

you clearly love them a lot and i am So curious what ur thoughts on seven red suns as a character are. theyre.. kinda mean from what uve seen, but you probably have some great insights!! if this means gushing about your f/o instead of serious analysis i am also in 100% support of that gbjhf

WUAGHHHHH I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN I LIKE THEM SOOOO MUCH i really really want to talk about General interpretations but it's hard because of how obviously biased i am. but. Augh. this is so nothing but it got long and i'm embarrassed so woe read more be upon ye

i gotta start by mentioning that faelings original design & concept for suns (and spearmaster by extension) is sooo important to me and a lot of my personal interp comes from that, comics like this (link to the official discord btw) that they made for example! and though it has arguably less to do with suns, the 1.5 drought mod also has a special place in my heart but if i get too into that i'll start screaming and crying about it. just know that wanderer is so special to me and suns has two kitty cats that they love so much ok?🫶

anyways. i think because of the fact they aren't fleshed out much in canon aside from the spearmaster broadcasts there's a lot left up for the player to decide, which honestly is really fun to me and i genuinely love seeing other peoples interpretations!! but personally because you mentioned it and because i feel kinda strongly about this in particular, i wanna say that i don't think suns is mean, i think they definitely have the potential to be overprotective and intimidating, but it'd almost always be out of love. one thing the broadcasts ARE good at showing is just how much they care about basically everybody around them, even if they're a little.. dense about some things. they way they talk in the chat logs with nsh, about their guilt over pebbles' situation and trying to make up for it even though pebbles clearly doesn't want their help, about dooming not only pebbles but moon as well (who as far as canon text goes, they don't seem to have ever personally talked to moon at all imo). and when nsh stops messaging them, or becomes increasingly worried about moon, they get visibly concerned about his wellbeing as well and does their best to console him. my favourite broadcasts are the ones about their gradual realization that maaaaybe they care about spearmaster a little more than they originally intended to. they raised spearmaster, going as far as to teach it a personally modified sign language rather than a quick and easy one-way mark of communication like most iterators would do. the chat logs after spearmaster encounters pebbles and how worried suns was for it, about how they regret ever sending them to pebbles in the first place, and that they just wished it'd return home to them safely. there's also the fact that they kept an eye on spearmaster with their overseer basically 24/7, to the point that even pebbles knew that suns was watching. overseers can act on their own, we know that from what we see in canon, but pebbles knew that suns was actively watching when spearmaster entered his can. which. god this wasn't supposed to be about pebbles but pebbles not killing spearmaster is something that's so important to me because he so easily could have killed them and there was no reason for him not to. but despite how hurt he was and how wronged he felt, he knew that it would have ruined suns so he held himself back and it's so AAUUGHHHHHH!!!!!!! i love them all so much. this is barely even about suns anymore sorry i didn't mean to type so much about spearmaster i just love their campaign so much. don't even get me started on the thought of ascending as spearmaster that shit will make me start killing people i actually was going to talk about headcanon stuff too (mostly stuff from before the global ascension/after riv) but. i started thinking too hard about suns and pebbles and spearmaster and wanderer and and and. Well sorry but i fear that if i think about rain world any more today i may end up on national television. so maybe another day

[the-acid-pear]

Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[autismserenity]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)