Tumgik
#and that's partly why he denies ever caring about her or liking her
wicked-source · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
sponfawn · 22 days
Text
MTH meta - The Gifts That Keep on Giving (me feelings)
There has been a lot of gift giving in the past few chapters, between the Girls' birthday, Christmas, and the Boy's "birthday".
The gifts I want to touch on first are the shoes. When I realized that Blossom and Butch both received shoes in very different ways, I ttried to think about where else shoes might have been significant in the fic. With the publication of Modern Girl magazine, we are given a reminder about the shoe ad that didn't show the Girls' faces, just their bodies and shoes. Professor Utonium specifically says that he much preferred their (Brick's) magazine photographs over the shoe ads, because he could see their faces. The shoe ads are obviously an example of the physical objectification of the Girls, but it also reinforces the idea that they are a symbol and idols for Townsville (everyone immediately knows it's the Girls, even though their faces aren't visible. There are v few celebrities with that kind of recognition). To the point where Brick gets sick of seeing the ads all over, after seeing their promo. Many of the people of Townsville don't seem to see the Girls as full people with their own needs and wants, but as figures who exist for their safety and/or convenience (as seen when the Boys fill in for the Girls during the parade).
So how does this relate to Blossom and Butch? Brick gave Blossom shoes. This gift shows an appreciation for her talent and passion, beyond her looks - something she talks about after the photoshoot for MG. She's ok with people thinking she's pretty but she does all this other stuff. It is also a gift specifically for her, in contrast to Mrs. Morbucks' "gifts" (bribes) which involved money to Blossom's charity of choice and a scholarship in her name. Both of which target what she values but were a tool of manipulation, and played to Blossom's habit of putting others before herself. Brick has expressed that she also needs to think about her needs, because she is so quick to limit her opportunities for the (perceived) sake of Townsville. We know all the Girls got a lot of presents from the people of Townsville but I suspect that few if any were as personal and For Her as the shoes. Brick chose a gift that relates to her passion, to the activity that he begrudgingly started to admire her for, to the activity that they most often do together (the shoes are specific to ballroom), and that can't be interpreted as being for anyone but her. I'm sure she has also gotten gifts from close friends that were just for her. But given that Brick is adamant that she needs to recognize that her wants are important and that it's ok for her to want and have things for herself, I think this is significant.
Buttercup and the guys' gift to Butch is a practical group gift showing care and affection from his friends, but she signs the shoes last in a physically close and comfortable way. Did she actually procrastinate just to put it off? Did she just have a hard time figuring out what to write, as much as she has feelings for him while trying to deny it to herself? Did she want the last word to make it more special? She waited until he had the shoes on to write something, so I think it is at least partly the latter.
She and Butch are first and foremost friends, but they are undeniably special to each other compared to their other friends (whether they recognize/admit why or not). Buttercup's other gifts for him (pot popcorn balls) are undeniably for him as well, and that is significant for Butch who is so used to being overlooked in favor of Brick. We know that the other field agents at JS like the Boys. They helped them move in, no strings attached, and joked around with them. But it's unclear if they relate to the Boys individually or relate to them more as a unit. The shoes are for Butch only, from a group of people who care about him just for being their dumbass friend. And I think that's why he thinks "No one's ever done something like [that] for me before". Penny clearly cares about the Boys, but I think they all know there's a degree of obligation in it too. It's ultimately her job to take care of them, even though she likes them.
It doesn't have as direct a connection to the shoe ad like Brick's present does, and this is probably a stretch, but I think there's something to be said about how shoes are a symbol of genuine connection and care in these scenes - seeing the recipients of these gifts as whole people rather than simply objectified uncomplicated symbols of love and beauty vs fear and evil.
In Butch's case, he gave Buttercup the jacket partly out of feeling territorial, but it was also based on a prior vulnerable conversation. While I think jealousy was definitely a factor, he also knows how thinking about her relationship with Mitch makes her sad and uncomfortable, and Butch just wants to make her happy (even if it means getting his dick pierced to make her laugh). Penny knew that it was for Buttercup after their first meeting when she seems to measure Buttercup's shoulders with her eyes. Meaning it was likely procured by Penny but with specific instructions (more than just her shirt size would convey). The fact that it fit her so perfectly suggests Butch's intimate platonic knowledge of her body (platonic in terms of the fact that their physical contact has usually been "just friends being pals", not in terms of their feelings).
Mitch's jacket was important to Mitch, something he loved that was his dad's. It was sentimentally very important, but oversized on Buttercup. A bit like his desire for more PDA - it didn't fit her well despite their genuine love for each other and the fact that she liked wearing it. Butch's jacket is a perfect fit, perhaps even made just for her (much like Butch was literally made for her but in a different way). It isn't obvious on sight exactly who gave it to her. It's more discreet, which suits Buttercup's more private nature and is perhaps another way sbj shows Butch's ready interpretation of her wants and his eagerness to meet them.
Blossom's scarf required time and energy. It is practical but sentimental and thoughtful. Red is an obvious choice, but the gray is perhaps symbolic of his shifting priorities and/or her perception of him. Things aren't so black and white anymore. I love the little bit of pink at one end. It is a bit more forward than she has been in the past (except on their date), and I love it. I don't think it was her being territorial in the way that Butch and Boomer were with their presents, but more of a hope that when he wears it, it'll make him think of her. So a bit like Butch in a way, but not in an effort to replace or erase anyone else's connection, just to assert herself in a small way.
She describes it as "all she can give him", and it is a humble gift compared to other "gifts" he has gotten in the series (most of which were bribes or supplied for official events). This gift is all Blossom can give, and it is given with nothing expected in return. Just the hope that he'll wear it. It's a show of care for his physical well-being, something that I'm not sure anyone else has ever given him. The Boys have smoked with him when he was upset, but that's about as much as we've seen in terms of care. He's Brick. He's the leader of the RRBs, he was specifically made and brought back to put himself in physical danger with the hopes of defeating the Girls. Of all the Boys, he is seen as the most competent, the strongest, yet here Blossom is worrying about the fact that he doesn't have a scarf in the cold. There's something so tender in that.
In Boomer's case, the necklace was from a desire to give something unique from others, and a way to show that she is his. He was going to give it to her on her birthday and it was a symbol of his devotion and commitment to her, but he suddenly decided to wait to give it to her until he could confirm that none of her exes had given her a necklace. He is so desperate to be unique and special to her like she is to him, that his insecurities actively get in the way of expressing his love. It is a gift that can be worn all the time, regardless of occasion (as opposed to shoes or a leather jacket), in a heart shape that is more typically indicative of romance.
I sort of wonder if sbj was intending to show the lack of emotional intimacy or lack of Boomer's growth in their relationship. Lemme explain: all of the gifts in this post are wearable, but 3 of them needed to fit well. The 2 pairs of shoes and the jacket. All 3 fit perfectly, requiring the giver to be very attentive to the other party's size (especially considering it's unlikely that Brick has ever seen the inside of Blossom's shoes, the guys were unsure if the shoes would fit Butch, and Butch apparently gave pretty precise measurements/sizing to Penny. The 4th gift, Blossom's, doesn't need to fit well, but it required recognizing a need that Brick had and time and effort to make it. The necklace, while sweet and definitely something that Bubbles liked, didn't require that much thought or attention to her on Boomer's part. Which reflects how he relates to their relationship, I think. He focuses a lot on how she makes him feel, and while he's been trying to be "good" for her sake, his insecurities and jealousy have gotten in the way of their connection. He is so caught up in them, he doesn't realize that she is feeling uneasy because he's hiding things, and didn't really think about how it would make her feel when he decided not to give her the necklace initially.
The only person who hasn't given one of their counterparts a special wearable gift so far, is Bubbles. That could change in the future. But it is interesting. I might discuss this in a different post on other gifts that have been given.
28 notes · View notes
amethystfairy1 · 3 months
Note
*cracks knuckles*
these brids can fit so much trauma into them its insane. Anyway time for the Skyblings rant that i promised after the first chapter.
Let's start with Pearl. She is what I can assume to be the oldest out of the two twins, while also being the stronger one due to her just missing out on being retained. Her wings are a standard dark colour, useful for stealth missions and favoured among the colony. She has been travelling with Gem for over a year now, and in that time she opened up about preening in roughly a week if i remember correctly. Pearl appears to be more along the healing process than Grian is, however, made evident by them both denying knowing each other in the moment, there is still work to be done. However she is getting along that path to recovery. She openly admitted to Gem that Grian was her brother, even if it did result in her projectile throwing up. Another way that she still seems to struggle is in regards to her injury. She wants to help. She wants to be fighting and not to be a dead weight. She doesn't want to be injured because she probably views it as being unuseful towards Gem. And if she's unuseful she might be sold. At least thats the case in her head.
Now onto Grian. His wings are bright and colourful, not overly encouraged for fighting, especially with his short stature, and meant that he was used more as a display piece. Of course he was still forced to participate in fights, shown in the first fic of this series. He was brought by Mumbo and Scar a couple months ago, and has been slowly going along that recovery process. He does seem to be more adverse to physical contact compared to Pearl, as shown by how long it took him to allow Mumbo and Scar to preen his wings. This is mostly likely partly due to previous masters being incredibly rough with his wings, not to mention the stuff Duke Freemere did. He is more closed off than his sister appears to be, once again refer to the Duke Freemere incident and the recent relapse. However it does show how much he has grown throughout the months he's been with the swaggon based on how opened he was to talking to Mumbo in the newest chapter.
All in all, love TT, love Skyblings, Love your writing. Can't wait for the next TT fic. I am still in denial about what Scar did, so that in of itself might get a seperate rant. Please take care of yourself and make sure to eat and drink. <3
I LOVED THIS
This is so cool!? The breakdown of them both is so beautifully done and underlining why their trauma is slightly different, and you NAILED it, this is all so amazing! I adore the rants! Like seriously I do! I love them so much! So if you ever feel like ranting again by all means please please please do I would love to see them!!! Thank you for sharing!!!
29 notes · View notes
Text
Overwatch Headcanons (based on the canon lore and several in-game events and things) that I really want to be true.
A lot of it is Junkers, sorry.
~~~~~
☆ Ever since April Fools, I love the thought that Roadhog watches 'mom shows.' (Oprah, Bachelor, Bachelorette, etc.) I also love to think he gets really into it, like he's dead silent and perfectly focused on the episode or he'll mutter stuff under his breath during The Bachelor or The Bachelorette. Like, "... how dare that sludge talk like that..." or "... you go girl, tell him off..."
☆ Cassidy: WHY DO YOU KEEP LOSIN YOUR KEYS, DANG NABBIT?!
Tracer: Why do you sound like a prospector when you're angry, cad flabbit?
☆ Hanzo snorts when he laughs too hard... thats it. But he'll deny it if someone hears it. Hard deny.
☆ Junkrat is the equivalent of that one guy in Ratatouille ("I killed a man, with this thumb." Can't remember his name for the life of me.) when anyone asks what happened to his finger. From 'Extreme Thumb Wrestling Gone Wrong' to the simple one answer that is 'Koalas.' No one truly knows what happened to his finger.
☆ Odessa doesn't know how to write. (Junkertown Education System.) But she does know how to draw just a bit. So when doing autographs, she doodles a tiny version of her. With little stars.
☆ Speaking of Junkertown and Australia in Overwatch, the place is basically like Mad Max and Fallout had a baby. Even Junkrat sees the difference between normal dirt and radioactive dirt. And thats just facts. If you look at the Junkertown map, you'll understand what I mean.
☆ Sombra was an orphan, she hadn't felt a familial bond until Sigma. Come on, the man is like a science dad. He has that energy. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't see him as family. Sigma is the only (from my current research (not counting Doomfists 'jefe.' Jefe justs means boss.)) one that has a consistent nickname that translates (sorry if its wrong) to 'Old Man.'
☆ Moira knows how to dance every single anime dance... no no no, you don't understand. Every. Single. One. Will she ever show it? No. Definitely not.
☆ Tracer has adhd. Not because of her ability. That's a stupid reason. It's cause she just... seems like she does you know?
☆ Junkrat actually has a love of singing. As shown in the random chatter he has and the interactions with Lucio, Jamie likes to sing. Although, from when he's demonstrating to Lucio, it kinda seems like he's nervous. The "Sausage Roll and Batter Sav" tune he sings isn't bad. He's just a silly little guy.
☆ Speaking of my favorite silly guy, Junkrat is actually smarter than people give him credit for. He can keep a conversation with Sigma, he knows Xenos Paradox, he gets Winstons Periodoc Table joke, it's just that he expresses himself differently. I mean he was theoretically raised in the radioactive outback, you're gonna wind up a bit weird. I think he partly hides his genius so no one can take advantage of it.
☆ Opposite of Junkrat, Roadhog seemingly has made friends with a lot of others. They're more willing to talk to him than the rat man. I mean, come on, Mako gets along with D.Va, Ana, Junker Queen, Kiriko (i think), and Lucio. Maybe Mercy as well, but I couldn't figure it out. I have a feeling that Roadhog thought that no one would like him cause he's scary, but everyone on the team just sees him as a gentle giant (which he honestly is, have you seen his cute little interactions and the plethora of Pachimari things he has?)
☆ Mercy really cares about those around her. So much so, that she believes (if going by some of her chatter is anything) anyone can be saved. Even Widowmaker. I'm guessing from what she had done with Genji, she had proved to herself that she could save anyone.
74 notes · View notes
seriousbrat · 3 months
Note
hi i really enjoy your blog! even though we disagree on some things i like how you can articulate and explain all your views on canon without getting defensive or anything, it's awesome. i was wondering, who in your opinion was aware of snape's love for lily besides himself, dumbledore, voldy (though seems like he thought it was just lust), and possibly petunia? do you think people ever teased him and lily the way people do when they see a boy and a girl being really close? how would lily react to that? and do you think if voldemort hadn't existed maybe lily would return his feelings? their codependent, complicated friendship is my absolute favorite (and i think in another world sirius would've gotten along great with them). also do you think harry would favor one parent over the other, or possibly even sirius or snape, if he'd grown up with all of them in his life? thanks in advance, i love reading your thoughts on HP! :D
ahh thank you! Yeah I don't think there's any need to get defensive really, it's all for fun at the end of the day. Not everyone has to have the same opinion either, I think disagreement and debate are good things as long as they're respectful.
Onto your first question (which I love), I tend to think people were generally aware of Snape's feelings. It was definitely an unusual friendship, so people like Avery and Mulciber, and the Marauders, would have come to the (somewhat cynical) conclusion that Snape's motivation for hanging around Lily was because he was interested in her romantically/sexually. Imo it's not the whole truth, but it does seem like the most likely explanation for why a teenaged boy would remain friends with someone who opposed his beliefs and was detrimental to his status among his friends. I also think Lily's unnamed friends would have thought the same.
This comes up in my fic but I imagine that Sev encouraged the idea among his Slytherin friends that he only desired her sexually (this is also what he says to voldemort.) Partly to keep his status, but I also think there was an element of not making her a target or allowing her to be used against him. And since Lily was a hottie this was probably easy enough to believe, even though they might not fully approve. They'd definitely tease him, but I don't think they'd be above discussing Muggleborn girls in a degrading, objectifying way themselves. My version of Avery is a pretty disgusting incel type who is constantly trying to get laid so he definitely isnt above it. He teases Snape but also knows he'd be LUCKY to get a chance with a girl like Lily.
James and Sirius on the other hand I think may have had more of a clue as to the true nature of Sev's feelings. I see Sirius as extremely perceptive (when he cares enough to be) so he would definitely use this knowledge to make digs at Sev. James, having feelings for Lily himself, was more personally invested in the topic and likely clocked Sev as a rival for her affections early on (and vice versa, which only exacerbated the hatred between them.)
Petunia was definitely aware. BOY was she aware. And it rankled. Not because she wanted Snape (unless...... snetunia rise!!) but because it was more evidence of Lily being more desirable/prettier/etc. Like Sirius I think she probably used this info against Severus (and then they kissed. in a toxic way)
As for Lily herself, the way I see it she was kind of, lowkey, somewhat aware, but chose to ignore it. The friendship was more important to her. I feel like this is a somewhat common experience for women (at least for me) when you are kind of aware that your male friend is into you and its lowkey uncomfortable sometimes but you kind of make the best of it and try to be respectful to their feelings/not really think about it. classic friendzone moment. At the same time, I don't think she was FULLY aware of the extent of his feelings, though some of that was wilful ignorance lol. When people teased her about it she likely denied and deflected.
as for whether she could have returned his feelings someday, I think it's possible. I lean towards yes, honestly, but obviously things turned out the way they did. I don't think she was interested in him at the time that they were friends.
also do you think harry would favor one parent over the other, or possibly even sirius or snape, if he'd grown up with all of them in his life?
boys tend to favour their father, and james definitely seems like the "fun dad" type. however there's also something about boys and their mothers, so on a deeper, subconscious level, in the moments he needed to be comforted, probably Lily. OBVIOUSLY his godfather coming round for tea would have been the most exciting thing ever and he would have totally ignored both parents in favour of Cool Amazing Fun Sirius. Not sure how Snape would fit into this little family but as a kid I think Harry wouldn't have been hugely fond of his mum's weird scary friend, but perhaps when he got older would find more in common with Snape and they'd have some interesting chats. Provided Snape doesn't hate him for existing/hate his beloved father and godfather in this scenario like he does in canon lol.
4 notes · View notes
Note
It seems like the entertainment industry really like Zendaya and Tom together. Over the last couple of years I have listened to different podcasts, and there is no denying how well respected they both are. Tom in particular, is so well liked by almost everyone. My opinion is that he has that unique quality of making you feel like you are the most important person in the room when he is talking to you. Zendaya is just more guarded and shy. Why are they so well liked together?
On the other hand JE and Olivia Jade , the industry, imo, is like whatever. A couple of weeks ago there was an anonymous source to People about how they are stronger than ever and such a cute couple. A few magazines did a write up, but you could tell because of the rocky relationship of those 2, the tone was more let's wait and see. They did not really care.
In the past, podcasts that liked Zendaya and JE together, their only reason was that they are both tall. I always thought that JE truly did not understand Zendaya, he was just going through the motions and she was just trying so hard. BTW those same podcasts now look at the chemistry between Tom and Zendaya, and have now come around and admit being tall is not the end all.
First of all, JE was textbook rebound for her. And also some people didn’t agree with me then but I still stand by it that her being public with JE was partly due to a bit of a petty move on her part after quite public (even if it was unintentional) pics of Tom with the blond auntie (forgot her name already. All I remember of her is that even though she is probably his age, she had the face of someone twice her age hence me calling her auntie).
I am not saying her rebound rs with JE was out of pettiness, but her being public with JE the way she wasn’t with Tom was out of pettiness after the public Tom pics with the blonde girl. Her grabbing his ass, them walking hand in hand at that festival in London… they were some pretty public and lowkey PDA pics.
And regardless of who initiated the breakup between T and Z, most of us could tell by how she acted after those pics dropped that she was hurt , and as she claimed herself she was determined to make that summer her “hot girl summer”. Smells of the “le petty” perfume to me.😂 I ain’t criticizing . I would be petty too probably.
At that time JE was in South Africa with his gf but fast forward a couple of weeks and he dropped the placeholder gf and hooked up with Z. Not saying she didn’t like JE at all. I am sure she liked some of him the way Tom liked some parts of the auntie blonde and the whassherface after her (I am genuinely terrible with names of people I don’t care about. After a few years, I forget this kinda useless info).
Anyway, back to your original point, Tom and Z are individually charming people. Z’s charms to me are more observed and learned from other stars since her childhood. She clearly spent a lot of her childhood time practicing that “happy smiley faces” type of speech. Tom’s charm is not as learned but it is more about using his innate charisma and natural extrovert energy to be authentically himself and likable. So, since they are individually charming people , together they make such a sweet couple that needs diabetes warning for their followers. Therefore you can’t even compare their likability to other couples their age.
4 notes · View notes
Note
I don’t care how public they are when she’s off stage, but she’s working… and I’m very against mixing work with your personal life.
//
I feel like maybe you don't understand what makes Taylor Swift, The Taylor Swift ahah
The reason why Taylor is not just another singer-songwriter, and is one of the most important artists of all time, is because of things like this... She's a fantastic songwriter, but the relationship she was able to built with her fans is out of this world and never seen before... We all feel like she's family and so when we go see her show, we don't just want her to do her job (sing, dance, play..) we want her to include us in her life (sing The Best Day to her mom, sing Fifteen when Abigail is there, look at Blake and Ryan's kids during Betty, play a Max Martin medley when he's there, etc..)
Plus, in 50 years when you're talking to somebody saying you went to the Eras tour, they'll find it fascinating and will ask you a million questions about the biggest tour of all time, but one of those questions will be "was it a show that Travis was on?"..
We're witnessing music history in the making ahah
TL;DR: Most fans eat this shit up, yeah, but I don’t like it! Is getting personal an important component of Taylor the artist? Yeah, and I don’t think I’ve ever denied it! Do I have to like it? No. And I don’t. I like her for other reasons.
Okay, first of all… I don’t do well with condescension, so please don’t use this tone when you talk to me hahah.
Second of all: I’ve been a fan for 15 years, I think I know her pretty well. Do I always get her right? No! Still, some of the things I’ve gotten right during the years include: I guessed she was writing an album during the pandemic (before folklore was released); I guessed that Joe and her were having relationship problems waaaay before it became evident (particularly at the end of 2021); I was adamant back in 2013-2014 on Twitter saying that she was dating around even if she was publicly single (and I got shit for it because it was 2013 and people weren’t kind to the idea of women having casual relationships, at least in Italy); I said that hoax was about Taylor dealing with Joe’s stuff from the beginning…
Just because I don’t like something, it doesn’t mean that I don’t understand it. Just because I don’t like certain things about Taylor’s character (like how often she gets personal) it doesn’t mean that I don’t see that she’s that way.
ALSO, I was strictly talking about relationship stuff here: Taylor singing Fifteen for Abigail (she is featured in the song and in the video! - also give me a break, you can’t compare a 20 year long friendship with a 10 month relationship) or singing TBD for Mother’s Day (again - the song is about her mother) or singing the Max medley (he’s her work collaborator) have absolutely nothing to do with Taylor singing Hey Stephen and introducing it as a song for someone special while MH was in attendance or Taylor singing specific songs to Travis because it’s the 87th show. It’s very very very different. (If you go back in time there are other examples: she sang Ronan when his mum was attending the show during 1989 tour, for example - which is very different from when she sang So It Goes… more often than not when Joe was in the audience during rep: the first is personal but still work-related, the second is exclusively personal).
Beyond that: Taylor has “always” mixed her personal life with per work life… yes and no. Most songwriters are actually much, much more personal onstage than Taylor is. So many of them name names. Or they sing new songs they’ve never released just because they’re going through stuff in that moment. Or they spend so much time talking and telling their audience personal stuff hahah. Taylor is actually much more “professional”, in that sense, than a lot of her (less famous) peers.
This stuff has also happened in waves: she was extremely open and “personal” in 2006/2007 and Fearless and partly SN, then she became more “serious” on stage. And there’s a reason people go crazy over the surprise songs now: it’s a peak into her mind to an extent she’s never given us before during a tour. Never ever.
I also don’t agree with the idea that the relationship she’s built with us (the fans) is what makes her The Taylor Swift. I do think that she’s a master at that and that very few people probably care about their fandom and cater to it as much as she does. BUT there are A LOT of fans who love her so much and attend the concerts and know every song, but they aren’t online. They don’t know every piece of the lore and they still think she’s the most amazing songwriter. They don’t enjoy fandom spaces and they never tried to get Taylor’s attention on Tumblr and they don’t even know what wonderfuck is hahah, but they still really love her and her music. Taylor has cultivated a big fan base who cares about every move she makes, but there’s an ever bigger chunk of the population that considers her The Taylor Swift without ever getting a taste of the parasocial.
I just also wanna point out that:
1. We can have different opinions! I grew up in a family that really values work and really values separating work and personal life. It’s informed so much of who I am.
2. I can know Taylor and still not like something about her. In fact I don’t always like how open and personal she is! It’s not one of the main reasons I like her. And yet, I still like her!
1 note · View note
fandomimaginesftw · 2 years
Note
Can I request a fic for Lucifer where he overhears the reader arguing with the Winchesters because they found out she has feelings for The Devil & she stands her ground & pretty much tells them to piss off because it's her life & her choice & partly because she actually understands & can relate to the reasoning behind why Lucifer does the things he does & acts the way he does.
Misunderstood
I actually want to do a part two to to this, let me know if you'd be interested! I hope you like it, I know it's kinda short, sorry
SPN Tags: @carryonmyswansong @mogaruke @hobby27
Tumblr media
“Y/N! I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now!” Dean growled, hitting the table out of frustration. Sam’s brw was more furrowed than Y/N had ever seen it, but at this point in time, there was no going back. Y/N locked eyes with Dean, anger crinkling their features.
“I don’t care what you guys think about this! You can’t bully or scare me into changing my mind. I’ve felt this for a long time.” They crossed their arms, straightening their posture to make sure their words came across how they wanted them to, like they were confident in what they were saying, because they were.
“How can you say that?” Sam asked softly, as if he had just been betrayed by someone he cared about. Which was valid for Sam. Y/N did feel a little guilt, knowing what Lucifer had put Sam through. They weren’t excusing that, none of that was okay, but they understood to a certain extent.
“Look, all I’m saying is…I understand where he’s coming from. I don't think what he’s done to Sam or the rest of your friends and family is okay, I’m not encouraging that in the slightest. However, I’m just saying maybe he’s really not all that bad. I mean, if my dad said I was his favorite and then replaced me with someone that wasn’t even great to begin with, I’d be a little pissed!” Dean and Sam scoffed, shaking their heads. “Have you ever read the bible? Huh? Lucifer was the most loved angel by God, and then one day he’s replaced by us, humans. Impure, sinful, and greedy human beings. God held them so highly that Lucifer couldn’t believe it. But even now, he does God’s bidding! God sent him to hell to punish the humans that went against his fathers word. Loyal to his father to the end, no matter how messed up he might be, sounds familiar doesn’t it?” And with that, there was nothing but silence. The brothers looked up at Y/N, then at each other. Neither of them could really deny Y/N’s words, when they put it that way it was hard to argue, especially when they brought John into it. 
What the three of them didn't know, though, was that a certain archangel was listening to these words, in utter shock that a human perfectly described him. Lucifer listened, some strange feeling tugging at his heart. He’d never felt so seen, and he had no idea how to deal with it. His eyes glowed red and he felt his angel wings flutter at each word they said. He needed to let them know how it made him feel, and he would when they all dispersed from each other.
273 notes · View notes
luminnara · 3 years
Text
It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Alpha!Bucky x Omega!reader part one 18+ only
Summary:  When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!
Warnings: NSFW, knotting, abo, smut, mild dubcon
Request are OPEN! I would love to write more Bucky stuff!
Also posted on AO3
Part one | Part Two | Part three | 
In a world full of massive, snarling, strong alphas, nobody wanted to use something as small and physically weak as an omega to do war. Omegas were better suited for other things, like nurturing, and giving life. The alphas were the ones who fought and maimed and killed and protected and hunted. It wasn’t even until relatively recently that omegas even had many rights in the modern world, and there were still plenty of traditionalists who stuck to the old ideals. Omegas were for breeding and claiming and little more. Though those ideas were fading, there would always be those who believed that there were things omegas couldn’t and shouldn’t do--
And fighting was at the top of that list. 
Omegas weren’t built for it. They were sturdy, sure, to help them withstand the ruts of big alphas who couldn’t control themselves, but they were generally small, and, many believed, unable to fend for themselves. Their role, their purpose, was to be claimed and bred by big strong alphas, and that was that. It made sense; after all, someone needed to stay and care for the pups, or else there would be little chance of survival. Throughout most of history, survival wasn’t something that was ever guaranteed, and having a secondary gender that was intended for rearing offspring greatly increased the likelihood that pups would make it to adulthood. Alphas were bigger and stronger, natural leaders, always ready to fight and defend their territory and their pack, and omegas were always there to carry the young. 
And that was that. Omegas weren’t meant to be warriors. Their only place on the battlefield was in the medic tent, where they could tend to wounded alphas and betas. It was nearly unheard of in many places for there to be omega soldiers, even infantry. 
Until the twentieth century. 
The catastrophic proportions of both World Wars brought with them an all hands on deck mentality. In the states, male omegas were being drafted along with the others, newly-invented heat and rut suppressants meaning that they could all work together without the danger of blunders thanks to anyone’s natural cycle. Back home, not only were alpha and beta women suddenly flooding the workforce while the men were overseas, but omegas were joining them. It was unprecedented, and began to change many minds. Maybe omegas were useful for more than incubators. Maybe they could work.
They still weren’t the best choice for hands on, tactical things, though. While there were omegas in the army, they rarely became officers, because who was going to want to listen to them? They weren’t natural born fighters, and they were hardwired to obey alphas. They were better as battle fodder, extras to pad out the numbers. They certainly weren’t anyone’s first choice for special missions or programs.
Well...almost anyone’s.
When HYDRA got their soldier and programmed his brain, they were pleased. The big alpha, James Buchanan Barnes, had survived the super soldier serum, and with his mind wiped and his old life far away from him, he was the perfect assassin. The Winter Soldier was strong, well trained, and easy to control, when given the proper commands. The serum made him practically unkillable, and he had the speed and strength to rival that annoying Captain America. 
Unfortunately, the serum also made his ruts much harder to suppress. HYDRA would never permit him to settle down with an omega, of course not...but an omega was the only thing that could ease his rut cycle. Without one, he could spend a week snarling and pining, absolutely useless. With one, he was only out of the field for a few days. Until they could develop better suppressants, their only solution was to give him an omega. 
Unfortunately, they weren’t very good at surviving him. 
He didn’t like any of them, not really. He never meant to kill them, never really tried, but HYDRA had a habit of starving the poor things before they tossed them into the lion’s den, and they just couldn’t keep up. The soldier used them to alleviate his ruts, always mechanical in his movements, and that was that. 
HYDRA didn’t particularly care whether the omegas lived or died, but they did reach a point where it was getting to be a bit ridiculous to catch so many for their soldier. Someone along the way had the bright idea to simply make a stronger omega, one who could withstand their asset’s forcefulness. Giving the serum to an omega was such a ridiculous idea that it just might work, and so they did, and oh, did they get lucky with the omega they chose.
Taking scent samples from several omegas they already had, they presented them to the soldier, allowing him to choose. It was, perhaps, the one time they had ever given him a sense of autonomy over himself and his life. It was the one time he had any freedom, despite the incredibly controlled circumstances.
 While strapped down to a familiar chair, he watched the doctors pacing around. He was expecting the familiar agony of having his mind refreshed before a new mission, or maybe even the chill of preparation to go into cryo for a few years until he was needed again. Instead, they presented him with strong-smelling test tubes, each one unmistakably omega. He inhaled their scents with mild interest, none seeming to particularly stand out...until they reached the last.
Amoretta Arancini was a young adult female omega, whose file stated that she was “a kicker.” From the moment she had been captured with the intent to be given to the soldier for a rut, she had clawed and kicked and bitten at anyone and everyone who came into contact with her. She was nearly impossible to deal with, and had the soldier not immediately flared his nostrils and strained against the leather straps that held him down, she would have been finally put down. 
Neither she nor Bucky knew it, but he was the only reason she was allowed to live.
The soldier was placed back into his usual cell, and the doctors set about gathering the unruly omega he had chosen. It only made sense that the big, killer alpha would go for a positively savage little monster of an omega, after all.
They administered the serum, unsure whether an omega would even survive it, and by the time their soldier’s next rut came around, she was ready. If she could withstand him, she would have a purpose within HYDRA, and they would be able to stop wasting so much time on finding new omegas for him to burn through. 
She was given double the suppressants he was. They didn’t care if she experienced side effects; after all, her only job was to present herself to the soldier at the start of every rut. She didn’t need to be out in the field. If that meant she was groggy and nauseous all the time, who cared? It seemed to work, keeping her heat and fertility at bay while leaving her lucid enough to get the asset through his cycle. The last thing HYDRA needed was an unscheduled heat or pregnancy to deal with. 
“The asset is entering his rut. Bring in the omega.” A voice on the intercom said. 
An alarm blared, a door slowly screeching open, revealing a cold cell, bare save for the cot against the wall. It was a cell specifically used to hold the soldier during his ruts, and now, it would also hold Amoretta. 
She stumbled along, a beta guard with a cattle prod stalking behind her. She was naked, having been allowed to shower before meeting the soldier for the first time, her dark hair still damp as it fell behind her shoulders. It was the cleanest her skin had felt in weeks, so she could only be so angry about it...but she was still angry. 
With the threat of electricity behind her, she entered the empty cell. A door slammed shut the moment she stepped in, another sliding open on the other side of the small room. 
His scent hit her like a freight train. Motor oil, earth, and cloves...Amoretta’s lip raised in a sneer, partly because she had a feeling she knew what was coming, and partly so that she could try to disguise the way she suddenly began salivating. 
Sure enough, just as she suspected, the biggest alpha she had ever seen in her life came stalking in, eyes dark and wild as he searched for the omega he had smelled on his way in. His chest was heaving, sweat prickling his brow, and as his musky rut-scent wove around Amoretta, she swallowed hard. She definitely knew what was coming next. 
She had never seen the asset before, but she had heard whispers and seen the other omegas they offered up to him. Before she was injected with the serum, she lived in a cramped cell with several others, and whenever someone was dragged out, it was always a toss up whether they would return or not. When they did return, they were never in good shape. 
Now she could see why. 
He was predatory in his movements, dark hair falling in his eyes as he stalked toward her. The door slammed shut the moment he was clear of it, and suddenly, Amoretta was trapped with him. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide from what was quite possibly the most dangerous alpha in the world. If he decided he wanted her, she would have no choice. If he decided he didn’t want her...she would probably die, either by his hand, or HYDRA’s.
She stood as still as she could, watching him with level eyes as he sized her up. A large part of her was surprised that he hadn’t pounced yet, and as a low rumble started up in his chest, she sort of wished he would. The sound went straight to her core, her thighs pressing together of their own free will while she did everything she could to keep from biting her lip. 
His nostrils flared as the scent of her arousal mounted and he pressed himself up against her. The soldier was still looking her over, taking a surprisingly long time to examine the omega standing before him, especially considering that he was rutting. He slowly lowered his head, inhaling deeply, brushing his nose over the scent gland on her neck. The rumbling in his chest grew louder, and this time, Amoretta couldn’t help the needy whine that escaped her throat. 
The soldier’s hot tongue swept over her gland, his hands gripping her hips. He liked how she smelled. He liked how her flesh tasted. 
He wanted more.
He gave her a small shove towards the cot, but as he did so, this little omega glaring up at him actually snapped. She bared her little teeth at him, trying to tell him to slow down, and he responded with a snarl of his own. His tore through his throat, a savage noise, and while it shut her up, it didn’t get rid of the harsh look she was shooting at him. 
The asset wasn’t used to anyone, especially the omegas that HYDRA offered up to him, talking back. They usually went belly up for him the moment he stepped into the cell, behaving and presenting themselves for him to take. That’s what he preferred--a willing omega, whom he could enjoy for a few days. He didn’t like...whatever was going on here. Why was this one so upset with him? He wanted this omega to relax, to take him easily.  His mind, usually so analytical and tactical, was clouded by his rut, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. 
Amoretta saw the way that he hesitated and she lowered the lip she had raised. So he was capable of listening, after all. That was a good sign that he had some control over himself. Ever so slowly, she relaxed, allowing him to give her a little nudge. It was impressive that he was allowing her to set the pace, especially considering that his musky scent was growing heavier by the second. She definitely hadn’t expected him to be at all interested in what she wanted, and she had been pretty sure that he would just push her down and take what he considered his.
He was almost...gentle, though. Gentler than she thought possible from such a big alpha, at least. She turned and walked toward the cot of her own accord, knowing full well that she didn’t have much choice in how all of this was going to play out. If she was going to be knotted today, then she might as well try to enjoy it, right? 
The way his scent made her mouth water gave her the feeling that that wouldn’t be too hard.
The soldier watched her with predatory eyes, following every movement closely. Absentmindedly, a hand drifted down to the loose pants he had been provided, palming his already hard cock through the fabric. He liked this omega. He liked how she looked, how she smelled, how she moved...he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her hips as they swayed slightly, a pleased rumble rising in his throat. He knew what was coming next, and he couldn’t wait. He was aching to be inside of her, to fill her up, to knot her...he wanted to make this omega his, and take care of her, and protect her, and he’d be damned if his captors got in the way of that. 
Amoretta climbed onto the cot, her back still turned to the most dangerous alpha on the planet. All too aware that she was completely naked, she crawled onto her hands and knees, dipping down until her chest hit the sheets, her ass up in the air for him. Her primal, omega brain was clamoring for this chance to present before such a big, strong, handsome alpha, and as the cool air tickled at her, she couldn’t help but let out a shrill, needy whine. He was taking too long, and part of her was genuinely worried that he was going to reject her. She was doing everything right, she was submitting, she was in a very vulnerable position...so why wasn’t he already on top of her? 
A tiny bead of slick trickled down her thigh as she glanced back to see him standing there with his hand on his bulge. Oh. So that’s what he was doing instead of jumping on her. At least he was turned on by the sight of her...right?
Wait. Why did she care? Why did she care at all what this terrifying alpha thought about her? This terrifying, big, strong...nice smelling...alpha…
If she weren’t on so many suppressants, she was absolutely sure her heat would have started then and there. He was so goddamn handsome, standing there all shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Her body wanted him, she wanted him, and if her hormones were allowed to do what they wanted, they would have been absolutely raging.
 His nostrils were flared as he took in her scent, his blue eyes wild and his pupils totally blown out as he finally stalked towards her. His movements were brisk, filled with purpose, the bulge in his pants clearly visible even as she craned her neck to look back at him. 
“A-alpha,” she whined, warmth rushing through her as she spoke. 
The sound of her voice seemed to have an effect on him, a shudder rolling through his body. 
“‘Mega,” he growled, voice impossibly low. “My ‘mega. So obedient...good girl.”
His words had her trembling. 
All at once, he was shoving his pants down and grabbing for her hips, rubbing the length of his cock over her lips. She keened, more and more slick running down her thighs as he pressed the head inside of her. Even though she was loaded up on suppressants, her body wanted him, her cunt already dripping wet and relaxed enough to accommodate his sizable girth. 
Still, the feeling of him stretching her out was absolutely delicious, eliciting a filthy moan that came pouring from her lips as she buried her head against the sheets. He wasn’t gentle by any means, thrusting into her as far as he could go before pulling back out roughly. His pace was harsh and quick, his body immediately caging her in as his chest pressed into her back. He was possessive, trying to hide her from the surveillance cameras he knew were situated in the upper corners of the cell. He didn’t want anyone else to see his omega, especially not while she was beneath him like this. She was his, and his alone. 
As rough as he was, he was still paying attention to her. Somewhat, at least. He was well aware by this point that she was tougher than the other omegas HYDRA had given him, and he took the opportunity to sink into her deeper, fuck her better than he normally could have. She could take him,  all of him, without complaint. She could withstand his harsh grip on her hair as he pulled her head up and forced her back to arch. She didn’t have any problems accepting what was happening to her, her body responding to him happily. 
“Such a good omega,” he grunted, forcing his cock even further into her. 
“I-I want your knot,” she whimpered, her voice surprisingly demanding considering the position she was in. “Fill me up, Alpha…”
How could he deny her?
When he had spilled his seed inside of her and his knot had inflated to a nearly painful extent, he wrapped an arm around her, holding her to his chest as he laid them both down on the cot. He was happy with his choice, with his omega. She was everything he wanted, and as his rut continued for the next few days, he had his way with her again, and again, and again, before HYDRA separated them once more. 
The soldier snarled and roared, refusing to be taken away, but as soon as they recited his trigger words, he was compliant. Amoretta listened and watched, eyes wide as they led him away. She had only spent one rut with him, but she was already head over heels, her heart aching and pining for her alpha to come back to her.
2K notes · View notes
imagineyourworld · 3 years
Text
The Wife
Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader
Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off
Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out
Check out my other work here
-------
You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.
“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.
You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.
“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”
Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.
“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.
“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”
Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.
“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”
You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.
“I am not married, though”, you finally said.
“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered. 
Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.
“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued. 
For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander. 
“Only if that’s what you want, of course.” 
You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do. 
Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.” 
-------
-------
Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind. 
“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.” 
Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect. 
“Of course, General. What is it?” 
“I want you to be married to (Y/N).” 
It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show. 
“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out. 
“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him. 
Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo. 
“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him. 
“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.” 
Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say. 
“That makes sense”, he finally said. 
Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier. 
“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers. 
-------
By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan. 
“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested. 
You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings. 
“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.” 
The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead. 
“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time. 
You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager. 
“Will do, Commander.” 
Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front. 
“What’s gotten into your husband?”
You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin. 
“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him. 
“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile. 
Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation. 
“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself. 
-------
Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked. 
It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee. 
The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human. 
“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”
The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit. 
“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?” 
The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you. 
“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.” 
Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down. 
“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.” 
Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety. 
“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.” 
His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private. 
It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips. 
“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.” 
The Gonchee at the front nodded. 
“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour. 
-------
Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called. 
“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled. 
You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did. 
“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.” 
You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way. 
“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.” 
You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous. 
“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.” 
You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit. 
“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.” 
He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely. 
“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.” 
Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry. 
“Sounds reasonable.” 
Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.
The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe. 
“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless. 
“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.” 
You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”. 
“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable. 
The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately. 
-------
True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself. 
You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire. 
As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature. 
The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up. 
“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”
Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better. 
It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now. 
Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin. 
“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.” 
The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed. 
With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his. 
“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position. 
“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked. 
For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again. 
“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that. 
“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. 
Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress? 
“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.” 
A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men. 
“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge. 
“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting? 
From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation. 
“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?” 
The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. 
“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.” 
For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint. 
“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”. 
Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent. 
-------
Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up. 
“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.” 
The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi. 
“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way” 
You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him. 
A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. 
“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.” 
The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned. 
The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table. 
“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but. 
Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you. 
“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.” 
Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second. 
But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee. 
“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more. 
You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...
“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?” 
If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur! 
“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.” 
It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend. 
The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe. 
“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”
And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone. 
As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you. 
“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.” 
His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest. 
“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.” 
He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again. 
“There’s only one bed.” 
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself. 
“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?” 
You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed. 
“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.” 
The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.
“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.” 
As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him. 
-------
“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover. 
Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state. 
“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence. 
Now he had no choice but to answer. 
“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends. 
“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.” 
Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say. 
“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued. 
For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible. 
“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded. 
From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe. 
It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso. 
“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe. 
Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process. 
Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night. 
-------
The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee. 
You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious. 
“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.  
“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered. 
“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain. 
You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds. 
“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you. 
It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face. 
“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.” 
You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away? 
“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him. 
“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think  about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe. 
“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone. 
You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard. 
“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care. 
All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress. 
You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together. 
It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision. 
“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher. 
“What does it look like? I’m changing.” 
You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him. 
“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?” 
This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless. 
“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.” 
By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened. 
“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.” 
It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again. 
“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to. 
“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!” 
The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.   
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours. 
Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream. 
Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did. 
You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder. 
“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.
All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours. 
“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted. 
As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes. 
“What is it, mesh’la?” 
For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him. 
“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously. 
A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth. 
“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.” 
The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face. 
“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one. 
Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder. 
“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?” 
You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head. 
“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.” 
Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist. 
“I think they already believe us, cyare.” 
-------
It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut. 
Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while. 
“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper. 
Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled. 
“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.” 
He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then. 
“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.” 
Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all. 
I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it. 
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3
797 notes · View notes
gildedmuse · 3 years
Text
Law: A Life In Review
(With Annotations By A Snarky Bitch Who Spends Way Too Much Of Her Time Thinking About This Mess Of A Boy)
Tumblr media
[So far, the entire story seems to revolve around Law from between the age of 13 to 15, so of course all illustrations included with the novel are of him as a hot grown ass man. They know what the fans want.]
A Quick Introduction
As someone who studied stories at an academic level, I have a real fascination with backstories and world building. The society we see in One Piece has so many elements that I can't help but focus in on, wishing that we could get more than the passing hints at the culture of this planet. For instance, we know that there are definite differences in the social and political structure of the four Blues, but we hardly ever get to see how that actually plays out in characters interactions and development. What does it mean to be from West Blue? How does the rest of the world view the North? Are there shared cultural values between the islands of the South Blue or Are they more removed and individual the way things appear to be on the Grand Line? With what little we do know, I feel the Blues are comparable to Europe. Individual islands, like countries, have their own political systems, their own histories, their own values. But you can't deny that the nations of Europe also share a lot of cultural identity.
Of course, no body really cares about those kind of musings. You know what people do care about? Trafalgar Fucking Law.
So please enjoy this summary of the novel based around Law's backstory. I've added my own commentary, partly to further explore those little hints of, in this case, the culture of North Blue but mostly to be a snarky bitch.
Chapter One, Part One: How The Fuck Does Fruit Work?
Thirteen years before the present day, a 13-year-old Trafalgar Law has walked nonstop for three days on Swallow Island after escaping from the Donquixote Pirates thanks to Corazon's sacrifice. He is on the verge of collapse, but is intent on carrying out Corazon's parting instructions to go to the neighboring town.
Two things. First, how big is this island? According to the anime, it appears the bulk of the island is a rather steep climb, but that hardly matters. Shat kind of person does not start their search for civilization by following the coast line? Look, I understand that Law is still attempting to process some major trauma, seeing as he just witnessed the death of Actual Angel In Human Form Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante, but get it together kid! How you gonna get to the Grand Line when you can't even get to a fucking port city on an island?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[I am fairly certain that maps do not usually illustrate land masses based on a side view. Nami, babe, back me up here.]
Secondly, so Law IMMEDIATELY goes out and puts himself at risk of death in honor of Corazon dying to save his life? Really?
.... You know what, completely fair. I mean, it doesn't make sense, but it is completely on brand. This boy has yet to find a situation that he can't approach with the attitude, "Cora-san sacrificed his life to give me the chance to survive.... So that I could die for him doing this."
Tumblr media
["I finally get why you saved my life!" He says, while actively getting himself killed.]
He finally makes it to a place called Pleasure Town [...]
And even though he's only 13 he's like, yeah, you don't name a town this unless people be fucking.
[...] but quickly becomes insecure about how people will treat him and his Amber Lead Syndrome and runs back out after encountering a woman despite her wanting to talk to him.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say that, given his every life experience, Law wasn't wrong here. Who knows what she wanted to talk to him about? Maybe it was to ask what was on his face and then she'd freak out when she realized, maybe she wanted to talk about if he's accepted their lord and savior The Holy Dragons, into his life. In which case, he made the right choice. Just get out of there as fast as possible.
He camps out in a cave, but suffers the effects of the syndrome [...]
Quick note I think Law would appreciate: I didn't think the word syndrome sounded right at all - we don't call it Lead Poisoning Syndrome, and I feel pretty certain that syndrome is more like symptoms, so I looked it up.
Sure enough, syndrome is defined as a group of symptoms that correlate with one another, and if it is found in association with a specific pathogen or cause, it becomes a disease. So, like, Toxic Shock Syndrome can be the result of a variety of causes, so the symptoms alone are not a diagnosis. But the cause of Law's diseases is kind of in the name - it's the result of Amber Lead. They made that damn easy to figure out.
It should be Amber Lead Poisoning or Amber Lead Disease. And I'll bet that misnomer bothers Law just as much as his entire city being murdered over a non-contiguous "syndrome".
[...] which could kill him at any point now. He struggles to figure out how to use the Ope Ope no Mi to cure it, but eventually manages to activate his "Room".
No. No. NO!
This is like by far one of the most interesting potential scenes in this whole novel and they just..... Brush it off? Like, how the fuck did he figure that out!?
Keep in mind that I am fascinated by how certain devil fruit abilities are learned and why the way they can be activated and used differ so widely. Thanks to the Oden storyline, we get to see a past user of the Bari-Bari no Mi, the same fruit currently held by Bartolomeo. During Dressrosa, there is a scene where Barto starts to uncross his fingers and has to quickly cross the again, because as soon as he stops the barrier begins to fall. However, in the flashbacks to Oden's time, the user creates the barriers by strumming on a lute. The barriers are no less effective, but each seems to require an "activation" technique in order to use their ability. So my theory is that these techniques, while necessary for the individual in question, are not an inherent quality to the ability itself. Instead, fruit users - and particularly paramecia types that seem to require more focus or skill and be less incorporated into a person's nature - when learning to unlock or control their powers, sort of naturally find a gesture or phrase or pose that helps them to focus and unlock their ability to use their power effectively.
So in a way, a more detailed description of the scene where Law is finally able to call upon his power isn't necessary. It's not as if he randomly managed to find the only possible way to activate the ope ope no mi, he merely found the method that worked for him. At the same time....
So, what? Law just stumbled onto using Doffy-like hand gestures while growling random English words. Like..... I have to know how this happened.
Did he try other things? How many and what sorts of wild attempts did a desperate thirteen year old boy come up with trying to unlock this ability? We see his first attempt where he waves his hands over Corazon and says "get better, get better."
Tumblr media
[It was this scene, for those of you who haven't had a chance to cry today.]
As tear-jerking as this moment was, it makes complete sense that Law's attempts to save Corazon failed no matter how desperate he was in the moment, and it had nothing to do with him not knowing the right password and secret handshake. It is specifically saud that using the ope ope no mi requires some medical knowledge (which you know, because of all those years of studying how to shot lasers out of swords and teleport random objects around.)
So with Corazon he was just so panicked and worried he couldn't even focus on like, what he needed to do (stop him from bleeding out). Maybe if Law had been able to focus, think about how he needed to remove the bullet and then see the wound, possibly get him a blood transfusion..... Maybe Law's power would activate by waving his hands over people and telling them to get better.
Which isn't as visually interesting, but at the same time, I would totally pay good money to see the Punk Hazard fight against Smoker, only this time Law is just waving his hands over a mass of billowing, pissed off smoke like some mystical cloud healer.
Tumblr media
[Law would be an amazing new age healer. He has already mastered making nonsensical poses that do absolute fuck all.]
Another note regarding the different ways characters activate their abilities: Law seems to require his hand gestures, but the vocal calls appear to simply be a stylistic choice. For instance, in Dressrosa, Law is pinned to a tree, and yet seems ready to call up a room while actively speaking with Doflamingo. At the last second, Doffy catches what he is doing and uses his strings to tie up Law's hand, thus preventing him from being able to use his powers. And yet that makes the fact that he almost always takes the time to call out his ability name all that more interesting to me.
I can track the hand gestures, right? He's starving, dehydrated, freezing, alone and scared. He's scrolling to figure out how to use this ability he has but has no way to access. He doesn't have any text or other reference material there with him. So he thinks, "how do other people do it? How do they manage to do what I can't!?"
For the last five or so years of his life, Law has been surrounded by fruit users. We don't know if he was familiar with them prior to seeking out Doffy, but it's certainly fair to say that the Donquixote Pirates are likely his biggest point of reference when it comes to devil's fruit abilities. And out of all of those gifted with power, who is the most showy? The one that would stand out? Who would Law remember as the one with the most power, the most skill, the most control?
Law despises Doflamingo to the core, but he also grew up around the man. He spent years attempting to impress him, watching him and learning from him. It's not at all surprising that, when searching for a way to unlock his own ability, Law settled on something that is strangely..... Familiar.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Both of these men are fucking ridiculous. Also, I would sleep with either of them no hesitation.]
But like..... He also decided, "you know what this needs? If I shout out a random English word. Really dragging out the vowels, too."
Law's verbalizations are likw Zoro with his "King of hell, three blades dragons, might wind of the futures , ultimate destruction tiger-dragon slash!" None of that is necessary (if anything, you think Zoro could get a better grip on that katana if he wasn't also trying to say super long attack names while swinging it around with his teeth). Swordsmen spend so much time trying to act all apathetic and cool that the second you give them the smallest opening, they immediately unleash their inner dramatic ho.
I'm here for it, I just want to see the whole scene where Law decides, "this, this is the shit I'm gonna do every time."
167 notes · View notes
gingersnaaps · 3 years
Text
"yes" is conditional
the whorification of y/n, courtesy of one kuroo tetsurou and his special... talents <3
wc: ~2.4k
tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): dubcon, expicit n*fw, brainwashing/conditioning, mindbreak, bimbofication, mental aphrodisiac, exhibitionism mentions, uh implied sexual slavery(there's a cage at the end??), corporate!setting, fem!reader with inner genitals,
a/n: written for @sugawara-sweetheart and her decadence collab!
i don't want minors interacting with my content
Tumblr media
The movies always get it wrong.
Kuroo thinks it’s hilarious how far off the mark they can be, honestly. He’s seen countless renditions of what people think mind control is like, and it’s always so corny and contrived - it’s not like he forces anyone to do things they don’t actually want to. He just… makes suggestions.
Nobody actually knows where their own thoughts come from, do they? So it’s almost too easy to place a suggestion or two in the back of someone's mind and pass it off as their own idea.
Most of the time, people are all too happy to comply with these suggestions.
And Kuroo’s more or less content with the free drinks he receives, the frequent raises his boss dishes out, and the one-night stands he easily gets as a perk of his little power. He really does enjoy the gifts other people seem to drop into his lap and the temporary flings he always finds himself in.
But he’s bored.
He wants more. He’s had enough of the short-lived gratification every time he persuades another pretty girl to come home with him.
So when he sees you walk by his office window, with your head always ducked low and your modest outfits all prim and put-together, it’s out of a passing curiosity - just a whim - that he starts his experiment. He wants to know just how far he can go in suggesting ideas and replacing thoughts, just how deep he can reach, and you’re perfect. You’re an unassuming and quiet coworker, you don’t attract attention, and he can tell that you’re one of those good girls just from the way you flush and avert your gaze when he talks to you.
Besides, he’s always wondered what your ass would look like in tighter skirts. Or, alternatively, with no clothes on at all.
Kuroo decides to make a project out of you.
As the days pass, he makes sure to time his coffee breaks so they sync up perfectly with yours. He makes sure not to do anything too overt, though - he doesn’t make you give him your number right off the bat, or ask you out immediately, or even drop any compliments. He wants to play it a little more subtle this time.
You find that you can’t help but take note of him, partly due to his constant presence, but also because you just can’t seem to tear your eyes away. Suddenly, there’s an insistent urge in the back of your mind constantly telling you where to direct your gaze, a little voice that whispers out how good his collarbones look, or how his back muscles ripple out under his shirt when he stretches. Your eyes seem drawn to his - and every time you make eye contact, you start flushing furiously, a tingling warmth spreading down your spine and into your cunt.
When you pass by his office, all he has to do is flash a cheeky grin, wink, and just like that, your panties are fucking soaked. You don’t know why you’re no longer able to control yourself around him, but it must be natural, right? It’s normal to have a relationship with a coworker go from completely platonic to you fantasizing about him stuffing your cunt full, right?
If he’s going to be honest, Kuroo likes seeing how horny he can make you every time he’s close by. He likes the way your face heats up, the way that cute body of yours seems to tense up, the way you cross your legs a little bit tighter when he walks by.
It’s not hard to make up fantasies to put in your mind, either - Kuroo thinks about you nearly all the time, after all. So when he finds himself drifting off in his office, thinking of the way you’d moan and scream and mark up his back if he were to pound you into the mattress, or maybe of how your pretty face would look dripping with his cum as he grips your hair and fucks your face, he doesn’t mind sharing them with you. And the look on your face when he does - oh, baby, it’s so precious.
You must be barely more than a virgin with how absolutely ashamed you act.
And slowly, of course, your wardrobe begins to change. When you find yourself at the mall, you’re no longer looking for conservative sweaters and cardigans that disguise the shape of your body. Maybe you’ve just lost interest in that style, especially with the way you find yourself drawn to the more… vivacious section. Now, you find it empowering to sift through racks of the tightest skirts, of v-neck blouses that give away your cleavage whenever you lean over.
When you show up at work, legs clad in tight stockings and your breasts pushed tight up against your shirt, you feel almost proud when Kuroo sees the way you’re dressed. In fact, when you find your gaze drawn to his, looking into his dark pupils blown wide with arousal, you feel that intense, throbbing heat in your cunt flare up again.
You feel good. You feel happy. You dress this way because you want to.
And when he finally asks you out to dinner, it’s easy - almost second nature - for you to say yes. Why would you ever want to say no when you’ve been so fixated on him for the past few weeks, when your mind has been filled with the dirtiest, unspeakable thoughts, when you’re so undeniably attracted to him?
On that date, you can barely think straight.
You’re just so fucking turned on the entire time, aren’t you? You can’t stop thinking about the way his cock would feel dragging up against your tight, wet, heat, about how his fingers would feel methodically taking you apart, how the flat of his tongue would feel flicking up across your clit.
You don’t care about the food. You barely even notice how much the bill for the dinner comes to. All you can think about is him.
Kuroo finds it almost endearing how tightly you cling onto his side during the taxi ride to your place. He can feel how warm you are, your shallow breaths puffing in and out, the way you tremble when he brings a thumb up to caress your cheek.
His experiment was so fucking worth it. You’re putty in his hands, a little plaything he can mold and shape to his liking.
That night, you are very much to his liking.
You pull him out of the taxi, whispering into his ear how much you’d like to show him around, but he isn’t fooled. You’ve invited him up not because you want to give a tour of your living area, but because you need him, because you don’t really have a choice with the way he’s been conditioning you for the past few weeks.
Barely five minutes have passed before you drag him to your bedroom, stripping off every useless item of clothing off. “Please,” you whimper. “Fuck me. Please. Please. I want it so bad.”
He knows you’re telling the truth, and as he grasps your thighs with his large hands and spreads you until you’re open and dripping, he’s only too happy to oblige.
Sucking gentle kisses along the crook of your neck, he bites at your soft flesh, running his tongue up along your pulse point until you shiver. He reaches down, trailing his hand over your chest and tummy until he arrives at your clit, and rubs slow, feather-light circles that leave you squirming and shaking, bucking into thin air until he grabs your hips and holds them down firmly in place.
He knows you want more. He can tell by the way your puffy clit pulses, swollen and tender, and the way you mewl whenever his fingers brush against your entrance.
“More,” you whisper, eyes wide and pleading. “I need more. Please.”
His cock twitches at the ragged desperation in your voice, and he almost wants to draw it out for a bit longer. You make such a pretty picture - he wants to run his hands through your disheveled hair, all mussed up and soft, wants to hold your face, glowing with sweat and flushed pink, wants to sear how depraved you look into his mind forever.
But who is he to deny you when you’re begging so nicely?
Weeks of pent up frustration have left you so, so sensitive - after all, your short, stubby fingers can’t reach nearly as far as his can, and the angle he’s able to hit every time he curls his fingers in a come-hither there motion isn’t something you could ever replicate. It’s so easy to make you cum when you’re desperate, and he indulges you, making you cream around his fingers as he thrusts them deeper and strokes at your walls.
And when he’s done prepping you, Kuroo finds that fucking into a needy cunt is so much better than just a willing one. Your pussy, slick and dripping wet, almost seems to suck his cock into your hole, and the lewd moan that falls from your lips as he bottoms out sends heat rushing to his core. He goes slow and careful at first - he wants you to enjoy this, after all - but your pussy feels so good, so warm and velvety, that he can’t help but speed up and ram his cock into you until you’re squealing like a bitch in heat. It might feel better without the condom he has on in the way, but that’s okay - he’ll save fucking you raw for another day.
After that night, you only grow more eager. You start doing things you never would’ve even imagined prior to his little interventions - you send him nudes from the work bathroom, slutty pictures that show off the curve of your ass and your tits covered in lace, candid shots of your lips wrapped around your fingers, sucking on them like you would his cock, even pictures of your cunt right after you’ve been touching yourself.
And just days after he’d fucked you for the first time, you find yourself at the pharmacist picking up birth control. You want to feel him cum inside you, to paint your pussy white and stuff you full until his seed is dripping out of you and dirtying the sheets.
Most of all, you want to please him. You want to make him feel good so that he’ll fuck you, offer you some sweet relief from the persistent ache in your cunt that gets particularly intense whenever he’s nearby.
You let him fuck you almost anywhere, anytime. He bends you over the sink in public bathrooms, running his fingers along your folds, or sprawls you out on his lap in his car, his cock deep in your cunt. You don't really mind if other people see the two of you - as long as he's gripping your hips tight, bruising your cervix until your skin blooms black and blue, sticky drool leaking from the corners of your mouth - he could be showing your naked cunt off in the middle of Times Square for all you care.
Kuroo can’t help but beam with pride at the way your demeanor has changed as of late. You used to blush whenever he would make eye contact with you, and now you’re begging him to get you off during rush hour on public transportation.
He likes this new version of you very much.
-
Months go by, and you find that it gets harder to focus at work. Early on, it was easy to ignore the heat curling in your stomach whenever your thoughts drifted to Kuroo, but now the artificial glare of the screen gives you a headache, and the numbers and letters on the spreadsheets all seem to meld and jumble together until you can’t tell which is which.
You don’t really care about your boss’s performance review anymore. The customers can scream all they like. The most pressing concern on your mind, the one that you just can’t stop thinking about, is the insatiable need for Kuroo to fuck you, to lift you up against the wall and bounce you on his cock like a ragdoll.
Why would anything else matter?
To be completely honest, Kuroo hadn’t anticipated this particular side effect, but he supposes it makes sense that the more thoughts he replaces, the less original ones remain. There’s no longer as much of who you were before left, and - oh, Kuroo really shouldn’t be doing this to you, should he? But he finds that he doesn’t really care, doesn’t really mind, because you look so much better in your tight skirts, so much happier being the slut he’s slowly trained you to be.
He did like you for your personality - he really did. It was nice seeing you cute and quiet, but there’s just no room left for who you were anymore.
We’re all shaped and molded by our environment, aren’t we? The people we surround ourselves with, the places we grow up and live our lives in - it just happened that for you, your environment was Kuroo, and he did the work that society probably would have done anyway - albeit a bit differently, a bit more extreme.
Of course, he’s not delusional. He knows he’s responsible for the way you are now, so when you eventually get fired, he takes you in and lets you live with him. This way, you’re safe and warm and taken care of, and in exchange, he gets easy access to your cunt whenever he wants. There’s no more need for midnight calls or texts, because his pretty little fuckdoll is always waiting for him when he comes home.
He doesn’t have a spare room, but that’s not a problem. He lets you sleep on a couch at first, but the nice, comfy cage he orders for you comes in after just a few days. After all, he doesn’t want all his hard work to go to waste, and besides - you’re content with the few amenities your new accommodations offer: food, water, air, and cock.
Kuroo often finds himself admiring your pretty face, an expectant, needy expression plastered on your features and your eyes glazed over, stuck between the dirty metal bars like a dog waiting for a treat from its owner. He can’t help but think that this is how you were always meant to be, that this is the perfect relationship that makes both of you happiest.
Considering the state you’re in, you really don’t know any better, do you?
Tumblr media
if you enjoyed this, please reblog or just drop by my inbox to say hi! requests are open
1K notes · View notes
i-cant-sing · 4 years
Note
Ooh, you write for Greek Mythology? Perhaps Zeus kidnapping a male reader, and basically not listening to them at all. Zeus getting more and more annoyed that the reader fails to care about all the opulence, grandeur, and power Zeus has. The reader just trying to escape and struggle. Zeus deciding to teach them a lesson to respect the king of the gods?
Yandere Zeus x male reader
I was so tempted to just write a scene where Zeus just goes boop! And turns the reader into a cow 😂😂😂😂😂 Anyways, thanks for requesting! Greek Mythology is also one of weaknesses, especially Hades, Persephone, Ares, and Hephaesteus💖💖💖
Enjoy!
Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
TW: gore
Yandere Zeus:
It didn't work.
Nothing works.
You laid in a fetal position on the wooden floor of your apartment; crying. Crying because of the pain.
The pain of emptying the bottle of acid into your eyes? Partly the reason.
The pain of realisation that you've lost? Mostly.
I should've just stayed there. You cried. Should've just stayed with him and let him have his way.
It would've been far less traumatising than this anyways. This, this curse that he had given you all because you didn't want to sleep with him.
Who would've thought that Zeus, the Greek God, would have become obsessed with a mere mortal like you? And then who would have even imagined that he would kidnap you and take you to Olympus; where he would confess his love for you?
You certainly didn't. You thought that maybe you were just off your meds or that this was just a really weird dream. But the reality of the situation dawned on you the longer you stayed there; the longer Zeus made his advances on you.
You didn't get why he was so infatuated with you. Or so tolerant either. You've heard all the stories about him kidnapping others and forcing himself on them, but he never once forced himself on you. He could have, but he didn't. Instead, he kept on trying to gain your affection like one would do in a normal relationship. 
His palace was the main attraction of Olympus. Golden gates and marble floors and huge pillars showed the grandeur of the palace. Wine so sweet that you couldnt get enough of, yet you didnt get drunk and food so delectable, you could devour the entire table. How you wished you could stay here forever and enjoy these treats, but you knew nothing comes for free. 
Zeus tried to impress you with his powers, his wealth, and everything he could give you if only you accept to be with him for eternity. He had even given you the gift of immortality, which you tried to return but couldn't.
He was being beyond generous and patient with you. But you couldn't help but feel he had a sinister ulterior motive behind those charming grey eyes.
When showing off wasn't working, he started getting physical. Brushing his hands on your body, hugging you a bit too long for it to be comfortable, even forcing you into his lap.
Of course, you struggled. Who wouldn't? A powerful god comes and whisks you away to another dimension, then proclaims his love for you and offers you all the luxurious amenities one could only dream of, only asking for your love in return? When he could easily overpower you? Yeah, something doesn't sit right.
And its not just that reason alone that you kept resisting him, you know. You've heard of his wife and sister, Hera. You've heard all the stories of how she would treat her husband's mistresses and men.
You feared her, because if anything, the Olympian Gods were famous for their cruel punishments.
You really should've remembered that when you finally flipped out on Zeus, screaming how you don't need him, don't care about him, don't and won't ever love him.
That was the first time you saw him get angry, but it was gone just as soon as it came.
He collected himself and sighed. You thought you had finally gotten through to him but instead of letting you go or even strike you with thunder for such disrespect, he did something else. “You really want to return so bad? Alright, who am I to deny my love?”
He made a bet with you. "If you can survive in your world without me for... 2 months? No, that'll be too harsh on you; 1 month, I'll let you go and never pursue you ever again. And if i win, you'll do everything I say." He smirked. "What do you say? Sounds fair?"he asked you, his eyes hinting nothing mischievous.
You knew better. You knew he was playing some really heinous game with you, where all the rules are in his favour and the odds were stacked against you. But you were desperate for escape. Plus, it was only a month right? You could do it.
But you couldn't.
Zeus had given you a parting "gift". Which you had to accept in order to leave. You didn't know what exactly it was until you returned home.
You were surprised to see everything was normal. You thought that maybe you would be kicked out of your apartment, bankrupted yourself or someone was going to kill you.
No. Nothing bad was happening to you. It was happening to everyone around you and they didn't even know it.
As it turns out, Zeus had cursed gifted you with the ability to see how someone was going to die when you looked at them. And you could warn them all about it, but no one would believe you. You couldn't prevent their deaths. And somehow, everyone around you had horrible, gruesome deaths.
You had those pictures forever embedded in your mind.
You'll never forget how your tailor friend had her hair loose and they got stuck in the sewing machine, and ripped her entire scalp off, tearing away all the nerves and blood vessels.
Or how a guy from work accidentally slipped on to the rail tracks, and was run over by the incoming train; his skin and guts stuck to the tracks. They had to pour chemicals to dissolve his remains.
Or how your pot dealer owed some people, and wasn't able to pay them so they put him through a mince machine, but the machine kept getting stuck so they chopped his already mutilated body and then threw him back into the machine, piece by piece.
It was too much.
You decided to not look at all. You wrapped your eyes in a tight bandage around your head, but all thanks to him, you could see right through them.
When that plan failed, you decided to stay at home and avoid contact with people completely. But then, you could see the deaths of people on your TV, on your phone, even of people in your dreams. And the deaths were getting more gorey and disturbing.
So, you decided to pour acid into your eyes. It was painful. And for a second, it was worth it because you couldn't see.
But they regenerated back. Because he had made you immortal. Your eyes healed back with the perfect 20/20 vision.
And thats how you were in this position right now. Crying to yourself as you finally admit to that you've lost.
"Zeus."you finally whispered, not even entirely sure you did. But that was confirmed when you felt a slight breeze behind you, causing you to cry harder.
"Shhh, darling. Its okay. I'm here now."Zeus said to you in a calming voice, as he pulled you to his chest.
"P-please make it stop. I- I'm sorry! Just make it stop please, I beg you."you cried into his chest.
He ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Did you learn lesson, love?"he asked in a quiet tone.
You pulled your head out of his chest and nodded vigorously. "yes! Yes. I've learned it. You were right. I was wrong. I- I lost the bet. Just please make it stop-"you sobbed.
Zeus caressed your cheek, looking deep into your eyes. "Alright. Let’s go back home, okay? I've missed you a lot. 2 weeks apart was far too long for me, love."
When you both returned to Olympus, you were met with a woman. As you looked at her in the arms of Zeus, you didn’t have to ask to know the Queen of Olympus was waiting for her husband and you. 
She smiled at you.
“Welcome back, darling.”
Tumblr media
Hope you guys liked this! Thanks for being so patient!💞💞
943 notes · View notes
lucy-sky · 3 years
Text
The Break of Dawn (Leo Barnes x f!Reader)
You work in a small diner not far from the bus station and try to get over a tragic event that happened to you three years ago. Leo Barnes is one of the steady customers, and at some point you realize there's mutual attraction between the two of you. There's no time for romance though - only one night left before the annual Purge, and Leo has an important job to keep Senator Roan safe as it's the only chance to finally put an end to the Purge.
Words: 3 656
Warnings: Sexual content (not super detailed, I would rate this story as Mature rather than Explicit, but still they f*ck), a bit of angst (trigger warning: loss), but Leo is a caring and protective guy who’s ready to hold you
A/N: My first time writing Leo Barnes or any Frank Grillo character, so please don't be mean :))
Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @skvatnavle​, @lunamoon-87​
Tumblr media
“There he is.”
Stella pokes you with her elbow.
“What?”
“Your tough guy. He’s here,” she nods to the corner of the diner and you don’t even need to follow her gesture to know that Leo Barnes is sitting there, his usual spot. He’s a bit early today, and it’s understandable - you too find it harder to sleep well as the Purge is getting closer.
“He’s not my tough guy, Stells,” you roll your eyes.
“Oh yeah? Tell it to someone else,” she snorts. “So far I’m just wondering how long you’re gonna keep ignoring that sexual tension…”
“Stella, please.”
“What? Honestly, I don’t know why he’s being such a gentleman… But just FYI, y/n… You know it’s not the 19th century and you actually can make the first move?”
“Even if I wanted to, it’s not the right time,” you shrug. “You know he’s doing an important job. He’s got plenty of stuff to think about and it’s definitely not romance.”
“Who’s talking about romance, sis?” Stella laughs. “You’re both so goddamn tense, you need to blow off some steam. No, seriously. You need to get laid. He needs to get laid. It’s just way too obvious!”
“Oh dear god, just please shut up…” you groan.
“Fine,” she gives you a wicked smirk. “If you don’t want him, then I’m bringing his order.”
You chuckle at this.
“Don’t you dare.”
  To be completely honest, you can’t deny that Stella is partly right. There is something between you and this grumpy silent man in the corner. But what exactly? You can’t really put it into words, it’s not just the attraction, or sexual tension as Stella says. You do find him handsome though, you admit that. A couple of times when he was wearing a t-shirt, you caught yourself staring at his muscular arms. Yes, guilty. And still… There’s more than that. You’d call it some sort of mutual understanding.
Leo Barnes works for Senator Roan. In the past, he used to be a cop, now he is the head of security for her. You learnt that one night when he was here, having his usual late dinner. The TV was on, evening news, something about the election of course. And suddenly you noticed him there, standing behind Roan’s back with another guy in a formal dark suit. You blinked, stared at the screen, then looked back at him. He caught your glance.
“Is that… you?” you blurted, realizing too late that you said it out loud. But he smiled, and in his smile there was no anger or annoyance.
“Apparently so,” he replied with a soft chuckle and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “How do I look?”
You started talking ever since then. Barnes usually came to the diner twice - in the morning he just had a mug of black coffee, and in the evening he ordered something to eat. Mornings were often crowded as many people passed the diner before heading to work in the city, so you were busy. But the evenings were mostly quiet. 
You often stayed at work late, covering Stella who had to run to her kids or another date. You didn’t mind that since work was always your way to escape. Nobody was waiting for you at home anyways. Somehow, Leo Barnes started to keep you company. He wasn’t much of a talker and you were never into heartfelt conversations with the clients here, but something just clicked. Especially after you learnt about his job and it became clear that your views on the Purge are the same.
Many people hate The Purge, as well as many people support it. Some people hate it because they’re scared for their loved ones, their business (small shop owners who don’t have enough money to afford the Purge insurance often suffer), or they hate it just because they’re against violence in general. And the others… They have more personal reasons. You’re one of them. And somehow, even if you don’t know for sure, you just feel like Leo Barnes has personal reasons as well. He never really told you, and you don’t dare to ask because you know well enough how the memories can hurt. You didn’t tell him either. But still, you don’t know how exactly it worked, you just looked at each other and saw it. It’s like an unspoken secret between the two of you. The details don’t matter anyway. Your stories are in the past and you can’t change it, but what you can change is the future. If Senator Charlene Roan wins the election - the Purge will finally end. You can help with your vote, and Leo… Leo is determined to do anything to help her survive this year. Just this year, and hopefully no one would ever have to survive this nightmare again. You both want it more than anything else.
  “Hey.”
You smile at Leo as you place a mug of coffee and a plate on the table in front of him.
“Hey…” he looks confused when he sees the food. Nothing really special: eggs, bacon, some beans and a toast. “What’s that? I... only asked for the usual…”
“Just thought you might need some extra fuel,” you shug. “Only one night left before the Purge, so… you must have a lot of work to do.”
“Yeah, you’re right… I actually do,” he gives you a tired smile. “Thank you.”
“Welcome,” you nod and turn to leave, but Leo suddenly touches your arm and you freeze.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah?” you face him again.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
“Yes… Why are you asking?..” you give him a puzzled look.
“Well uh… To be honest I’d be happier if you took a day off… You know, just to make sure you’re safe…”
You feel the heat on your cheeks. Does… does he worry about you?.. The realization makes your heart shrink for a second. Apparently he’s not just someone who understands, he’s someone who cares. You already forgot what it feels like when someone really cares. Well, of course there are your parents, but they’re far away… And Leo, he’s right here.
“It’s okay,” you say, trying not to look too baffled. “Tomorrow we’re closing the diner earlier, right after lunchtime, so I’ll be home long before the Purge begins. There’s no need to worry, really.”
“Good,” Barnes nods. “I just… don’t think I’ll be able to come over and check on you tomorrow, so I just…” he stutters as if trying to figure out something to say. 
“I just want you to be careful, okay?” he finally utters, and to your surprise his hand reaches yours, squeezing it lightly. “Just be careful, yeah?”
“Yeah, I... Of course I will,” you try to smile reassuringly. “I promise.”
  *
There’s about five minutes left before closing hour when Leo appears. As usual, you’re still here, helping Mary, the chief and the owner’s wife with all the cleaning up after the working day. While she’s in the kitchen, you wipe the tables, TV-set is murmuring something in the corner. The election, the purge… Always the same.
“You’re closed?” he asks, meeting your gaze. “Sorry, I… Didn’t realize it’s that late already…”
“We’re about to close, but it’s fine, come in!” you assure smiling at him maybe a bit more brightly than you wanted to show. “We’ll get you something to eat, right, Mary?” 
“Sure thing,” she replies from the kitchen door. You weren’t the only one who saw Barnes on TV. Since then, he became an always welcome guest as the diner owners supported Roan as well. Otherwise, to be honest you don’t think you could possibly be able to work for them.
You put a plate with food in front Leo as he takes a seat at the counter. While he’s eating silently, you wipe the coffee mugs and place them carefully on the shelf. The TV keeps talking. Something about the bloomimg economy and international murder tourists who keep coming to the US to take part in the annual Purge. You glance at the screen, see their gut-wrenchingly excited faces.
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath and shake your head. “Fucking insane.”
“True,” you nearly jump at his words, as you didn’t realize Leo heard you. “I knew people who killed someone on Purge night for… different reasons. But those who kill just because they enjoy it, for fun or sport or whatever you call it - those are the most dangerous.”
“They’re just psychopaths. People like that should be kept in mental hospitals or something. But they just walk around as if nothing’s wrong with them. And the new founding fathers keep telling them how proud they are of them…”
“Roan’s gonna make it stop,” Mary joins the conversation. “This lady’s got some balls, am I right, sir?”
“Yes ma’am,” Barnes chuckles. “She absolutely got them.”
  You leave the diner together with Leo. Mary chose to stay inside, waiting for her husband to come pick her up in a few minutes. The night is a bit chilly; you’re shivering, not sure if it’s the cold or the fact that you’re alone with him for the first time.
“Where’s your car?” he asks.
“Oh um… It’s in the service actually. So I’m going to the bus station right over there,” you point. Barnes frowns.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Stella promised to give me a ride home. Leo… I’ll be okay. It’s not the first Purge night in my life, you know.”
“Right,” he clears his throat. “Anyway, since I’m here I can drive you home.”
“You… sure it’s okay?” your voice betrays you a little. “I mean you must be tired…”
“I’m okay,” he assures, then nods at his car. “Come on. I insist.”
“Okay,” you hear yourself saying.
  *
You’re mostly silent on the way. You feel a bit tense, but also kinda… weirdly excited to be in this car, next to him. Damn. Is Stella right, and you’re actually into him? Definitely so. But after all these years you almost completely forgot how it feels - to be into someone or how the relationships work. As if you’re a teenager again. Leo Barnes is the first man who actually made you think of something close to romantic longing since… That night.
“It’s here?” he asks as you reach your house. You nod, and he pulls over. You wait for him to say something, to tell you goodnight maybe, but he doesn’t. Without the sound of the car engine, the silence between you becomes even more awkward. You open your mouth to say goodbye to him, but instead different words suddenly come out.
“Leo, I…” 
He looks at you intently. You stare down at your knees.
“Yeah?”
“I just… The fact that you worry about me - it’s very nice of you, really. And… I just wanted you to know that I worry about you too. I worry about you a lot actually…”
“Y/n…” his voice is quiet as he brings his hand to your face, gently urging you to look up at him. His eyes look darker than usual in the dim light of the street lamp nearby. You think if it’s possible to drown in someone’s eyes you’d already be gone.
“I’ll be fine, okay?” he says softly. “It’s gonna be a tough night for sure, but I’ll be fine, I have to be fine. You gotta trust me on this. You trust me?”
“Yes,” you barely whisper, unable to take your eyes from his, and when the tension becomes almost unbearable, his lips finally crush on yours.
You both expected and didn’t expect it, didn’t dare to admit even to yourself how much you really wanted it. Your breath hitches somewhere in your throat as you kiss him back eagerly, forgetting about everything and everyone for this moment that lasts so long and so painfully short at once. You’re both panting as your lips part, foreheads pressed together. 
“I… I think I should go,” you mumble as a rush of panic suddenly overwhelms you.
“Yeah… Yeah…” he nods. “You should get some rest.”
“You too.”
You squeeze his hand for a second. Gosh, you didn’t even realize your hand was on his all this time. 
“Good night,” you finally murmur, bracing yourself to get out of the car. You feel like something else needs to be said, but can’t really figure out what.
  *
You enter the house and just lean against the door, heart hammering wildly inside your chest. You close your eyes and try to catch your breath. What the hell just happened? And why are you reacting like that? There’s nothing wrong about this kiss. You’re two single adults… Well, probably single. Leo doesn’t wear a ring, so… Damn it, you really got out of practice when it comes to relationships.
A knock on the door made your eyes snap open. As if in a daze, you slowly turn and reach the door handle, already knowing who you’re going to see.
Leo doesn’t say anything. And you can’t read the expression in his eyes, or you simply don’t have time for it, because the next moment he steps inside, his hands cup your cheeks and he kisses you with such longing and desperation it nearly kicks the breath out of your lungs. You don’t know what you’re doing any more, but your fingers are already in his dark hair, scratching the nape of his neck while his lips and tongue keep attacking your mouth. It feels like shockwaves running through your body, and for the first time in years you feel just so alive. All this time your feelings, passions and emotions were asleep, everything around you seemed pale and lifeless as if someone turned down the contrast, but something changed. Not right now, not in the snap of a finger, of course; it happened gradually. Something kept changing deep within you since the very first time your eyes met, and now - you’re finally ready to feel something. To let him in.
You don't think about it though. Or about anything else, to be honest. All you can focus on is what his lips are doing to you, how hot his breath is and how weirdly nice his stubble feels against your skin. Leo’s coat falls on the floor. His big hands seize your waist as he lifts you up, causing you to grip onto his broad shoulders. Pressing you against the nearest wall, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, the kisses are sloppy, open-mouthed, and you can't suppress a soft moan. He's big and strong, you feel small underneath him, but you like it. 
You can’t even remember clearly how you finally reached the bedroom, frantically helping each other to get rid of the clothes. When you tumble down and he hovers over you, the skin to skin contact is overwhelming. He brushes your hair away from your flushed face, kisses you with sudden tenderness. The look in his hazel eyes is warm yet still full of passion as you cup his cheek and he presses his lips to your palm. An affectionate gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, but you both are too impatient to be soft right now. So he leans in, kissing you harder this time, grunting against your mouth when you pull him closer, craving as much of him as possible. You can feel him twitching against your lower belly as you wrap your legs around him, eager to get more pressure. He’s not even inside you yet, but it already feels so good you can’t help bucking your hips, earning a low groan from him at the friction. His lips trail along your jawline, down to the side of your neck, where he kisses and nibbles, and you just know there’s gonna be marks tomorrow, but damn, you can’t care less.
When he finally enters you and starts moving, you’re almost delirious. Clinging to him, you gasp and whisper his name into his skin, feel the muscles on his back tense as he thrusts deeper. The wave of bliss hits you so hard your vision turns blurry and for a few seconds it feels like you’re not there.
  *
Reality comes back to you slowly, with all the dark and troubled thoughts you can’t escape. Leo is lying next to you with his eyes closed, breathing evenly, so you think he must be asleep. Good for him. Carefully, you slip out of the bed to get a glass of water. It doesn’t help you to get rid of the lump in your throat though. Back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed and let out a deep sigh, trying to fight back tears. Too many emotions for one night.
“Y/n.”
Leo’s voice doesn’t even seem sleepy. You can feel him shifting in bed to reach you, the warmth of his calloused hand stroking your back soothingly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, uh…” You shake your head, bringing your hand to rub your eyes. “I’m good. It’s just… It’s been a while since I… You know…”
“I know. It’s been a while for me as well.”
“I lost my boyfriend three years ago,” you blurt out, surprising yourself that you said it out loud. “During the Purge night. He um… He was a medical student. We lived in an apartment building and we heard someone crying for help. I wanted to stop him but he just couldn’t ignore someone who needed help, you know. He got shot accidentally, right into his head. There was no chance to save him.”
Leo’s hand gently squeezes your shoulder.
“Sorry, I… Don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’ve never talked about him since the funeral…”
“It’s okay,” he moves closer, pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.
“I was so angry at first, you know,” now that you start talking you seemingly cannot stop. “I wished I could find and kill them. But then I thought he wouldn’t want me to become a murderer...”
He presses his forehead against the back of your head for a moment. “I know how you feel, y/n.”
You finally turn to meet his gaze. 
“I lost my son. I know what this anger feels like. Two years ago all I was thinking about on the Purge night was revenge. I was determined, almost obsessed.”
“Did… you do it?”
“No. I was close to it. Very close. But… One wise person made me realize that it wouldn’t help. Violence only brings more violence.”
“It has to be stopped,” you whisper.
“Yes,” he nods. “That’s why I left the police. Cops have to stay away from the Purge. I couldn’t any more. At least now I know I'm doing the right thing.”
“Right… Just… I’m just scared of losing you too,” you say very quietly, but he hears you anyway. His strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer, enclosing into his warmth. Making you feel safe.
“Hey, hey...” He whispers into your hair as he nuzzles into the top of your head. “It’s not gonna happen, you hear me? Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise.”
  *
You have no doubt your colleagues noticed who drove you to work this morning. But today no one is in the mood for comments, not even Stella. Even though the work goes on as usual, there’s still this tension in the air before the Purge night. 
Through the window you can see a bunch of guys gathered around the car with an open trunk full of baseball bats and other stuff you can’t discern. The owner proudly shows off his stuff, other guys laugh, they look pretty chill and relaxed, and your stomach nearly twists at the sight. 
  *
All night you could barely sleep a wink. A knock on the door drags you out of troubled slumber. At first you’re not even sure if you really heard it or it was in your dream. But the sounds repeat and you jump off the bed and without even caring to slip something over the huge t-shirt you sleep in. Barefoot, you rush to the door, open it with shaky hands.
He looks so exhausted it seems like he can barely stand. The collar of his shirt that used to be white is now stained with blood. And yet… He’s smiling.
“Leo!..” you gasp, stepping towards him and bringing your hand to his stubbly cheek. “Oh my god, are you… Everything okay?..”
“I’m great,” he breathes out huskily, and his smile slowly turns into a wide grin. “We did it, baby.”
You don’t even try to hold back tears as you fall into his arms, bury your face into his chest. He smells a bit like sweat and blood, but you absolutely don’t care. “I’m so glad you’re here,” you mumble into his ruined shirt. “I’m here,” he whispers back, stroking your hair. Then you realize the two of you are still standing at the porch.
“Alright,” you say, drawing back a little. “Let’s get you in, you need some rest… And you’re probably hungry too… And you definitely need a shower…”
“Wait, y/n. Let’s just… Stay here for a bit? I think we both need to catch a breath,” he chuckles crookedly, reaching out to wipe a tear from your cheek. You smile back.
“Okay.”
  Sitting on the porch with your head on Leo’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around your frame, you watch the sky becoming lighter and lighter as the dawn breaks. You can hear the sounds of sirens in the distance. The city’s slowly getting back to life, waking up after another nightmare. 
You both know it’s not the end, the war isn’t won yet, but at least you won this very important battle. And for the first time in what seems like ages you have a good feeling about the future.
*
Thanks for reading! 
Hugs, Lucy
237 notes · View notes
sage-nebula · 3 years
Text
Major Neo: The World Ends With You spoilers:
[[MORE]]
I was thinking about the fact that Neku has been dead for three years as of Neo while driving into work today, and I just—
Neku has been dead for three years.
I know the Secret Reports in the original game tried to solve the “how do they just return to life like nothing ever happened” issue by saying that Players in the UG weren’t actually dead, but rather their frequencies were just tuned into the UG while they played the Game, but given that everything else in the game states that the Players are dead (and that the “you died and are dead, dummies” comes up again in Neo), I’m going to go ahead and say that the Players are (usually) dead, that they died, that they’re not just in comas, that they are dead and that the memories of those left behind (who didn’t have prior experience with the UG) are just altered to forget that the death ever happened (along with funeral markers and such being erased, etc). The fact that the Reapers’ Game usually only lasts one week would make this a lot easier to do, I think, for those who were given the chance to come back to life at the end of their Game.
With all of that said . . . Neku has been dead for three years.
I’m thinking, mainly, about how Shiki and Beat (and Rhyme, to a lesser extent) handled this. Like, okay, Neku gets shot (again). Beat is there to witness it, he sees it happen. Neku is rushed to the hospital, he doesn’t make it. Of course this is horrible, but for Beat, Shiki, and Rhyme, they figure, okay. This is horrible, but it’ll be okay. Neku died, but he’ll be able to play the Game again, and he’ll win, and he’ll come back. They’ll just have to wait a week, but then he’ll be back.
A week passes. Then two weeks. Then a month. Then three months, and he’s still not back.
There would be a funeral service. We know nothing about Neku’s family, but assuming that his parents know his friends, they would have been invited to the funeral. And they’re not going to look like they don’t care that he died, but they go even though they know that Neku has to be playing the Game and that he’ll have to be able to make it back. Right? Because he’s Neku. He’s the strongest psych user there is. He won the Game three times in a row, there’s no way that he wouldn’t be able to win it again. The Reapers wouldn’t be able to erase him. Joshua wouldn’t deny him the chance to come back. And Neku wouldn’t choose to become a Reaper instead, would he? Why would he choose that? He wouldn’t. Would he?
Neku’s family would mourn him, because he was shot in the middle of the street (and his murderer never found), and they wouldn’t know about the Game so they would just assume that he was dead and never coming back, because the dead generally don’t do that. But Shiki, Beat, and Rhyme, who know about the Game, would have their certainty about Neku’s return shaken and broken down with each passing week that there’s no sign of him. They wouldn’t know that Joshua had locked Neku in Shinjuku with Coco, that he wasn’t able to play the Game again to get another chance at life. They wouldn’t know that he was okay, that he was working on a way back. They spent three entire years not knowing if Neku had been erased or not, or if he’d somehow been turned into a Reaper or not. And what that means is that while Neku’s family had a chance to mourn him and move on, Shiki and Beat were stuck in limbo, missing him so badly it felt like they had bleeding wounds in their chest that just couldn’t heal. 
And I think we see this in the ways both of them handled the situation.
Shiki had the benefit of working on Gatto Nero with Eri. Since I’m pretty sure they started it up as soon as she returned from the Game, we can assume that they already had its preliminary stages going when Neku was killed again. That would have helped her keep her mind off things, at least a little, but we know still that she continued waiting for three years until he came back. Given what she says in the end, about how she kept waiting by Hachiko for him day after day even though each day passed without him coming back, I think we can deduce that she spent at least a few hours each day standing by Hachiko, hoping that he would come back. Obviously she didn’t put her life entirely on hold—Gatto Nero wouldn’t be where it is if she had—but she still did what she felt she could do, which was hang onto faith that he would find his way back to them somehow, no matter how long it took, and her standing by Hachiko with Mr Mew was her way of doing that. But while she managed to keep the faith, I think that doesn’t change the emotional toll that it must have taken on her . . . or how it must have worried Eri, who wouldn’t know about the Game and thus wouldn’t exactly understand why Shiki was waiting for Neku to come back when Eri probably attended the funeral service with her, to lend moral support. Shiki might have tried to explain, but how can you explain the Reapers’ Game? How could she explain that she was killed and came back to life when Eri never remembered that happening? She would sound insane. Eri was probably fine with just letting Shiki do her own thing for a while, but overtime she probably grew more and more worried. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Shiki was gone away on a business trip partly because Eri encouraged her to go, all but pushed her out the door, to get her away from Shibuya in hopes that she could help Shiki move on from her apparent grief. And Shiki probably agreed to go not just because it was her job, but because the emotional weight of not knowing what was going on with Neku, when (or if, but she didn’t want to think if) he was coming back, was taking a toll on her that, at times, felt unbearable.
And then there’s Beat. Beat, who flat out tells Neku that he has looked literally everywhere for him. Beat, who has taken to wearing headphones everywhere just like Neku used to, and who has styled his hair similarly to how Neku used to wear it. Beat isn’t one who can stand idly by and hold onto faith that things will work out. He’s calmed down a lot over the past three years, but he is still very much a man of action, especially when it comes to people he loves. He misses Neku, he sees that Shiki is hurting, he’s not going to just sit around twiddling his thumbs waiting to find out what’s going on. He’s going to see for himself. In Neo, Beat says that he figured Neku would be in the UG, if anywhere, but he makes it sound as if going to the UG was a last ditch attempt at finding him. I think that it might’ve been, if only because Beat was in denial that it really was taking Neku that long to win the Game / he didn’t want to see that Neku had chosen to become a Reaper instead, had Neku chosen that. (And again, obviously he wouldn’t, but three years is such a long time to still be playing the Game.) Beat looked everywhere for Neku, flat out refused to believe that Neku could have been erased, and went so far as to get himself involved in the Game again because he couldn’t rest until he knew what happened to his best friend. And that’s heart-wrenching enough, but when you remember that he had been waiting and searching for three years . . . man.
Of course, Neku comes back. He finally gets returned to the RG. Records of his death are likely erased and those who haven’t had any experience with the UG (such as his parents / family) probably have no recollection of him ever dying. But Shiki and Beat remember. They were without him for three years and they remember every second. And while my heart aches for them (and for Neku, too, who was locked in the ruins of Shinjuku with Coco for those three years), I can only imagine that if anyone dares try to take him from them again, they honestly might just rip the UG apart with their bare hands themselves.
150 notes · View notes
violenceenthusiast · 4 years
Text
ok i had a thought that makes me wanna dip my head in acid but in a soft way...
dean and claire having a father/daughter saturday of fun and low-grade mischief, going to an arcade and joke-fighting over what stuffed animal to get with their tickets and getting slushies and while they’re taking a break to grab burgers claire says “yknow i’ve been meaning to go get- wanna come with me while i get a new piercing??”
and dean pinches in the direction of her ear a little and says “what, you don’t have enough of those already?” as if he doesn’t think they’re the coolest thing.
she waves him off, eyes flicking between the burger in her hands and the table “i don’t know i just thought it’d be something else fun to do today.”
dean’s only half teasing when he asks “you want me there to hold your hand?”
claire rolls her eyes and looks to the side with half a smile, “oh shut up.” but it’s true, she does want him there to hold her hand– she may be a hardcore hunter who will take a knife cut or a monster bite in stride, but she always gets a little nervous before each piercing. maybe having dean there will make it just a little more manageable.
––
they get to the studio and claire signs the forms, picks out her jewelry, takes a seat to wait while they get ready for her. dean is pacing, looking carefully in each case, at each display. the nice person behind the counter sees him looking and asks “did you want to get something pierced today too?” claire cracks a smile at that and dean looks up at the counter clerk a little wide-eyed, eyebrows raised and mouth half open in surprise, huffs out a breath and looks down as half a nervous smile pulls at the left side of his mouth. he sticks one hand in his pocket and gives one wave with the other as he says “ha. nah, no- just here for her today” as he gestures at claire. he goes to sit with her until the piercer calls them back to the room that’s set up for them.
claire is getting a conch piercing and it’s going more easily than usual- partly because dean is there with her, partly because there are shockingly few nerve endings in the middle of the ear cartilage, and partly because the woman doing the piercing is insanely pretty and insanely good at what she does (she used to be a phlebotomist so she knows a little something about blood, needles, nervousness, and a given person’s propensity for fainting). while the piercer is busy marking the ear, claire looks over at dean in his chair and unable to contain the question any longer asks him, “you ever thought about getting a piercing?”
“me? nah.. it’s just not- i mean they would’ve gotten ripped out for sure by some- by accident.” he was about to say ‘by some monster’ but caught himself before he really weirded out the nice piercer woman. he hadn’t thought about him and piercings in a long time. he had slowly stopped wearing even rings and bracelets as much over the years in case they got caught on something during a hunt (though now he had a new ring on his left hand that he never took off). a piece of jewelry actually in the body was even more of a ridiculous idea for a hunter. but he wasn’t a hunter any more, not really. hadn’t been for about a year. after chuck and getting cas back safe and human.. with sam and eileen running their witchy little hunter hub from the bunker.. it had just seemed like his opportunity and his time to break out of it all. wow okay in that split second he trailed so far off from where he started.. where did he start? ...piercings! right. he remembers being young and not being able to take his eyes off the men in bars with the metal glinting in their ears, noses, lips.. now he knew the staring had been more about the men than the jewelry but it hadn’t not been about the jewelry either. was this one of those things he got to think about now, again, for the first time in a lifetime?
claire takes a moment to make sure she isn’t woozy any more and gets up to go look in the mirror at her new adornment. she smiles and dean snaps out of his own little world to say “you like it?” 
she looks at him through the mirror “love it.” and then, mischievous, “your turn.”
“my turn??”
“oh absolutely.” a moment of raised eyebrows and incredulous silence then, “if you decide you hate it you can just take it out. c’mon i saw your face, you want one you can’t hide from me.”
she’s right. he protests weakly, but she knows him all too well at this point and she’s right and the goading from the piercer only encourages her.
“okay okay fine. but nothing too showy.”
they decide on a rook. it’s not too prominent but it’s definitely there, definitely unique, it will look okay on it’s own if he never gets another piercing, and if he has to jump in on an odd hunt it’s far enough into the ear that it would be hard for it to get caught on anything or ripped out. dean picks a simple, stainless steel piece with a lapis lazuli setting– blue for his husband (though if you asked him he would deny that’s why he chose it. but only at first).
he can’t believe how jittery he is about the whole thing, but this time claire holds his hand. it’s over before it’s begun and he thought it might be painful like the tattoo was, or like any of the number of painful little things that have happened to him over the years but it’s not, it mostly just feels strange. it’s nice to be surprised like that.
dean hops off the bench like claire did and goes to the mirror half expecting to hate what he sees. but he’s surprised for the second time in barely a minute. the glint of the metal in his ear doesn’t just look good, it looks right. like it was meant to be there and he had been awaiting it’s arrival but didn’t know it. something hard to name, something small, something he didn’t know was missing until he found it had just found its way to him, slotted into place and settled in his ribs. he feels quieter but also on fire– like he’d be satisfied to just sit and read a book, like he could face god and win (again).
from behind him claire asks, “like it?”
he smiles. “love it.”
––
they kick around for a little while longer, each of them forgetting about their new piercings until they catch sight of the other’s or until they catch their reflection in a shop window and take a second to admire the newness. eventually claire begrudgingly admits she has to get back to campus to get some work done. dean drops her off at her dorm with a hug and a “stay out of trouble”. 
dean makes the drive home to cas, just lost enough in happy thoughts and memories from the day that he forgets to put on any music until he’s already half way home. 
he gets to the house and finds cas watering the plants in the living room. he leans in the doorframe, watching his love gently tend to each plant in turn. dean doesn’t say anything, he knows cas knows he’s there and will greet him when he’s finished seeing to his darlings. in the meantime dean gets to delight in the sight of the curve of cas’ back as he bends this way and that to reach the plants, the delicate and reverent care he shows each leaf and vine.
cas finishes his routine, sets the water down and turns to greet dean. he freezes half way to saying hello because something is.. something.. something is... he can’t put a name to it, nothing is wrong but dean is.. shifted. not different.. but different. dean is holding his head oddly turned to the side and it doesn’t help either that dean is smiling around a secret and they both know it. cas narrows his eyes but brushes off the feeling long enough to cross the room and give dean a kiss, quick but whole and familiar. dean turns his head to look at a plant and ask a question about it and “accidentally” reveal his new addition. cas, who hasn’t taken a single step backwards since coming over to kiss dean, of course sees the jewelry immediately and exclaims before dean even has a chance to start his made-up question. 
after some very amusing joke-yelling from both sides, it’s revealed that cas just absolutely loves it. and not that dean was worried cas would hate it but dean was a little worried cas would hate it. or worse, that he would judge it. but cas loves that dean tried something new, loves that he chose something blue, loves that dean seems just that little bit more at home in himself. and from the slight blush in his cheeks and ears, dean can tell cas thinks it’s a little bit sexy too. 
––
dean keeps thinking about how much he liked getting a piercing. he gets it on a fundamental level now, gets claire and her array of silver and gold. he’s got the taste for it now, the itch. he’s thinking about going back for another one. or two. but what else, what next? he cheekily wonders about picking based on what would drive cas wild. 
...dean goes back in secret a month and a half later to get his nips pierced. it doesn’t stay secret for long. not from cas, at least. 
735 notes · View notes