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#then they were supposed to have a storyline together
supercalime · 3 days
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I know Buck wasn’t originally written as bisexual but looking back to season 2, you actually can interpret buck being attracted to eddie. He may even had a little crush on him. But Eddie being canonically straight didn’t show any romantic or sexual interest towards buck. I think if he was canonically gay and interested in buck and made any moves towards it, he could have had his bi awakening or realization back then and could have caught serious romantic feelings for Eddie. You can’t deny some parallels between his first meeting with eddie and with tommy. The unknown jealousy and the ranting about them. But because eddie is straight and never showed any sign of beeing into buck, his (maybe) feelings for eddie turned into an incredibly great friendship. That’s why I think his feelings for Tommy are very real and don’t have anything to do with Eddie. Tommy is canonically gay and reciprocated the feelings and attraction to buck. He was the one who made the first move and kissed buck. Buck was clearly interested in him and tried to get his attention. I do think that if tommy wasn’t interested in him and didn’t kiss him, buck still wouldn’t have figured out that he’s bisexual and his feelings towards him probably would’ve eventually turned into friendly feelings. I personally tend to hope for bucktommy rather than buddie but I wouldn’t be mad if buddie became canon. But I think the only way would be to make eddie demisexual, because there were really no signs that he likes men in any way other than his strong connection and chemistry with buck. Different from buck where you can retrospectively see many unintentional signs.
Oh yeah! I want to make it abundantly clear that I’m all in the bucktommy train 100%
I fell in love with them and I’m more in favor of them than the ship that shall not be named. I can’t stress it enough, I want bucktommy to be endgame. I’m a bucktommy slut.
I do believe you can look back and see clues that maybe buck was into eddie, whether that was intentional or not. I believe the writers accidentally queer coded him and when they noticed they decided to run with it when they got the green light from the network.
But as you said, he could have had an initial crush on a friend and that changed with time. And that is completely fine! It doesn’t mean he had been in love with him the whole time and repressing it. Of course there is the possibility that buck and eddie can be an item, if the writers decide to go that route.
That being said, as of now, there are no concrete evidence on screen that buck and eddie were/are going in that direction. Like you said, eddie hasn’t shown he’s into men/buck and if buck was into eddie since the beginning and vice versa, i believe the writers would have pushed that queer coding to the max she-ra style to force the network to get them together. There had been opportunities for the writers to not be that ambiguous.
And yes! The canon bi buck storyline is not about Eddie and it shouldn’t be even if buck and eddie are supposed to be endgame. All the signs since 07x03 (when Buck touched Tommy’s shoulder and we all got a little bit of the gay vibe) have pointed that Buck had been into tommy and mistook who he was placing the jealousy on during 07x04. It’s a classic trope and I hate that b*ddie stans conveniently forgot how misdirection works to feed into what they want (not only that, but also stating as fact). When 07x05 rolled around and we got the coming out scene, it’s clear to me that there was no intention to place bucks attraction to men on eddie or eddie also realizing he’s queer. It would have been the perfect opportunity to sprinkle in some queer eddie but there was not even a subtle hint of that in that entire scene and I honestly hope their friendship stays that way.
Not to be a bitch but, why can’t they “just” be friends? It’s so rare to have these archetypes of characters be as vulnerable and devoted to each other, without an ounce of toxic masculinity, being true friends and nothing else. I whole heartedly believe what buck and eddie have is even bigger than family or romance, they are each others rocks and defining them as brothers or “husbands” does a disservice to their relationship. I think of them more as platonic soulmates. They are others ride or die, which reminds me a lot of Marjan and Paul from lone star (they have a very similar dynamic and despite theoretically having the possibility of being a couple - as a straight woman and straight man - I don’t see them going that way ever because that’s not what their relationship is. They love each other, would literally die for each other but are not and will never see each other as potential romantic partners).
On a waaaaaaaaay lighter note: I’m excited for next episode. We are surely getting more bucktommy and I simply can’t wait to see what the writers have cooking up for this lovely ship!
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toobusybeingdelulu · 2 months
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look who is speaking…
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laenordeservedbetter · 3 months
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Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
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Words: 1k
Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader (Godly parent not specified)
Synopsis: Clarisse was fine with not getting anything she wanted until she laid her eyes on you.
Warnings: Pining, whipped!Clarisse, This is mostly in Clarisse's POV, handling of dangerous weapons (a dagger and a spear). [Let me know if I missed any.]
A/N: I apologize if the storyline is messy. I wanted this to be longer, but my attention span was not cooperating with me today. I had to take a lot of breaks while writing this because I could not sit still for more than five minutes.
masterlist || previous work
Clarisse remembers the first time she saw you.
You were in the forge, polishing some of the newly-made spears because you had nothing better to do. You were under the supervision of Luke since he was showing you around, but the boy had kept his distance, opting to just watch from the sidelines as you worked. Clarisse had walked into the forge, the chatter that was going on around you stopping. You discontinued what you were doing in order to look at her, wondering why your fellow campers were on-edge at her presence.
Your eyes met hers, taking her aback.
She hadn’t seen you before.
Once Clarisse realized that she was staring, she promptly cleared her throat, scowling. “What are you looking at, newbie?” She asked, crossing her arms. Her plans on scaring you, however, failed when you smiled sheepishly.
You had been equally mesmerized by her, something that she failed to notice. “Sorry, you’re just so—”
Clarisse held her breath, preparing herself for an accusation (that she’s mean and terrifying – both of which are true, but words that sting nonetheless). Though, it’s not like she’s going to think about it for the rest of –
“—Pretty.” You conclude your sentence.
Oh.
Clarisse’s brows furrowed. She thought she would hear something insulting, but instead she was met with a compliment? Her eyes searched yours once again, looking for a trace of malice. She didn’t find any, which made her confusion stir all the more. She scoffs, furious at herself for not being able to figure you out. “Whatever.” Clarisse walks away, turning her back on you so as to not show her weakness. She storms back to the Ares cabin, forgetting the reason why she went to the forge in the first place.
You frown as you look at the dagger in your hand, examining the initials engraved on the grip.
C.L.R.
---
The next time Clarisse saw you was when you were watching her train, your eyes following her every move. Clarisse pretended to ignore you until she found herself unable to focus. She put down her spear, turned to you and asked, “Would you like me to teach you?” before she could even stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.
You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”
You walked over and Clarisse pretty much had to use all her self-restraint to not just stand there and stare at you.
“…Alright, so you hold this and—”
---
It had been ages since that day.
Even though you and Clarisse have gotten closer, there was still a part of her that longs for more. See, ninety-nine percent of the time, her wishes don’t come true. Or it does, for a little while, but then it gets ripped away from her grasp. She gets her hopes up and then it all comes crashing down – a cycle that never ends.
Clarisse has come to terms with the thought that she will never gets what she wants. She supposed that she was okay with that, but then you came along and everything changed. For every smile, every crinkle of your nose, every stupid joke that made you laugh, she finds herself wanting to wish that you would feel the same way she does.
“Clary?”
She snaps out of her reverie and looks at you, “Yes?” She felt embarrassed for not paying attention, smiling apologetically.
“I asked if you wanted to—”
“Yes.”
You sit up in her bed, laughing. “I haven’t even finished the sentence yet.” You grab her hand gingerly, locking your fingers together. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me—”
“Yes.”
“Clarisse,” You whine, “Let me continue first.” You pout, trying to let go of her hand, but Clarisse wouldn’t let you.
Clarisse shakes her head, holding on to your hand firmly while her other brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care. I’ll go wherever you go.” She says genuinely. Being that close to you made Clarisse’s heart race, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to look away because then you’ll know that something was up.
You stare at her in disbelief, crossing your arms, “Really? You’ll go with me to show the new kid around camp?”
Her lips purse and you know you’ve got her. Clarisse lets out a sigh of resignation. “No.” She mumbles. As much as she’d love to spend more time with you, she and you have very opposing ideas on how to welcome new campers.
“Thought so.” You deadpan.
“Why are you the one doing it, anyway?”
“Because I’m still in trouble for staying past curfew two days ago, pretty girl.”
Clarisse froze at the nickname. If her heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. You chuckle, beginning to make your way out of the bed. “Hey, no, where are you going?” Clarisse grabs your hand, another laugh escaping you.
“To give that tour.” You roll your eyes, successfully prying your hands away from Clarisse’s grip. You ignore her sounds of protest as you make your way to the door.
Clarisse could feel her stomach drop, feeling the warmth slip away the further your distance becomes. The longer she stares at you with your back turned, the longer she thinks you would leave without saying goodbye. To her surprise (and not for the first time), you look back at her.
“I’ll see you later at the bonfire.” You lean against the doorframe, your eyes narrowing. “Don’t be late, alright?”
Clarisse rolls her eyes at the look you give her. She was only late one time and that was because she was debating with herself whether to give you flowers or not. She wanted to tell you the real reason why she was late, but decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I won’t.” She says instead.
“Good.” You straighten your posture, putting one foot out the door while a hand rested on the doorframe, giving Clarisse a smile she knows you only reserved for her. Only when she smiles back do you actually take your leave.
Clarisse gets a sense of hope upon your departure.
Maybe it would be different this time.
She leans back against the bed frame, sending out the same prayer to every god she could think of.
Please, please, please let me get what I want.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 3 months
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Realizations
Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader
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Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.
So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)
To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09
Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.
With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?
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I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭
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Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.
Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.
Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.
"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.
Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.
You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.
"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.
"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.
Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.
The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?
• ──── ✦ ──── •
He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.
Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.
'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..
"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.
You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.
"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.
You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.
Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?
The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.
You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.
'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.
"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.
Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.
The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.
He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..
Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.
For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.
It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?
You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.
Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.
He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.
Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.
"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.
"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.
He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.
• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •
Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.
"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.
"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.
Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.
Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.
You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.
"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.
You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.
As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.
You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.
You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.
Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.
Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..
Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.
You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.
The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.
Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..
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Rambling thoughts of various Yuri manga I’ve read
1. Kase-San and Yamada (Morning Glories sequel series) by Hiromi Takashima
notice how Kase’s name is first, which is representative of her being the main one to cause problems in their relationship
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If you asked me what my favorite yuri manga was like 2-3 years ago, I’d say Morning Glories and Kase San everytime. Every avid yuri fan has either read or watched Morning Glories because, at the time in 2010, it was groundbreaking, and I stand by the fact that the original series still holds up to this day. It was cute, sweet, wholesome and only had a few obligatory “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” moments. Most of all it wasn’t a pseudo-incest-straight-male-porn-pandering-garbage-fest—also known as “Citrus”. Was it cliche at times? Yes, but they all are lol. Did they add to the dumb ass “blonde femme and dark hair masc” trope? Also yes. But it was adorable and it was my first ever yuri so it holds a special place in my heart.
And it SEEMED like it was only going to get better in Kase San and Yamada, the sequel. The girls would be heading to college and the story could theoretically focus on more mature topics while they navigate their new relationship. Keyword: theoretically. Unfortunately, instead of exploring interesting relationship dynamics and storylines, the plot of each story arc boils down to: Kase is insecure because a man breathed next to Yamada or Kase is being completely insensitive to Yamada’s feelings…again…—> ✨miscommunication drama ✨—>big over dramatic apology scene—>boring makeup sex or other romantic gesture.
Literally that’s how every single plotline goes. Kase is so goddamn dumb and insensitive to Yamada’s feelings and Yamada’s a complete doormat who can only stay mad for 0.2 seconds before getting pussy whipped like a spineless ass bitch. And for all that Yamada sacrifices for Kase; her hometown, her dreams, her apartment, what does she get in return from Kase? Oh that’s right; bare minimum romantic gestures and a neglectful partner who can’t even call her “girlfriend” in front of others:
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Like I thought we were over this shit. It’s been THREE years of them together, a whole anime production, and god knows how many irl years and we’re going back to “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” WHY???
And then Kase later goes onto bet her entire three year relationship over the ugly bitch in the next panel, so now I’m questioning whether or not Kase even loves Yamada with the amount of bullshit she’s put her through. Which COULD be an interesting plot point, but Kase never gets any consequences for her actions and the creator genuinely thinks this is romantic and full of tension so I’m 10000% positive that this arc, just like all the others, will end with some makeup sex and we’ll be right back to step 1. Sigh.
2. Tamen De Gushi by Tan Jiu
Tamen De Gushi’s problems are interesting but it’s NOT because of the Chinese government💀
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So today’s dark haired masc and blonde femme of the day are Sun Jing and Qiu Tong, respectively. Their personalities aren’t anything to write home about, if you read ANY high school yuri romance, then you know exactly what happens in this story beat for beat. But, BUT, however derivative it is, I find their dynamic very endearing and down to earth. Idk maybe it’s just the translation, but other yuri stories often have this very inauthentic “anime” vibe to it. Which is to say the characters act very cutesy, overly dramatic, and have this stilted, caricature-esque acting of how the creator thinks teenage girls are supposed act.
However, I’m happy to report that Tamen De Gushi is a breath of fresh air in this regard. The characters and interactions they have are grounded and feel organic, which makes them feel like real people, not aliens pretending to be human. This really elevates the humor in turn, oh did I mention that Tamen De Gushi is super funny? Because Tamen De Gushi is super funny, here’s one of my favorite panels and it’s all because of Sun Jing’s goofy ahh expression:
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Like go girl give us nothing
If you’re wondering why I haven’t spoke much about the actual romantic relationship between the girls, that’s because there isn’t one💀 Which, okay, that’s not a fair assessment, they have a ton of romantic tension and they flirt a lot. It’s certainly building to a great romantic relationship, but it can’t quite get there due to legal/political reasons sadly. 😔
Edit: I received new information in regards to what happened to Tamen De Gushi. While I reached my limit for posting pictures, I want to point out that the Chinese government had nothing to do with Tamen De Gushi getting censored, rather it was a dispute between the author and the publishing company. The prior information I received was false and I prob should’ve looked it up more so sorrrry. The fact still remains though that after their big lesbian kiss towards the middle of the story and maybe a few other moments, that’s just kind of it. You’re stuck waiting for something to develop, but nothing really happens. The comic very quickly becomes a collection of slice of life segments and cute pictures that imply a relationship between the girls, but not really ;) ;).  Now things are just kind of left in purgatory for the foreseeable future and, well, that’s Tamen De Gushi y’all.
Compared to Kase San and Yamada, the characters were much better, which is not saying much, but without an actual romantic storyline, there’s just not a lot for me to comment on to be honest. It’s really pretty though, look at this art :
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3. Beauty and the Beast Girl by Neji
my personal favorite and the BEST yuri I ever read
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So next on the list is Beauty and the Beast Girl (I’m going to abbreviate to BatBG from here on) , which I already spoiled my feelings on the matter so this will basically be me gushing about this story for several paragraphs straight, enjoy.
Contrary to what the title suggests, it really has nothing to do with Beauty and the Beast’s story except in name. The main girls are Lily Blind, who is actually fucking blind 💀 and Heath the monster girl. Already I’m happy because instead of blonde femme and dark hair butch, it’s blonde femme and of-course-you-have-purple-hair-and-pronouns masc. Lol, all jokes aside, Lily, unlike her blonde femme counterparts is quite assertive and voices her opinions all the time. In fact, she’s the one who pushes Heath to be more open and communicate with her rather than the other way around. This is, in part, due to the story BatBG is trying to tell. I say BatBG is in name only to Beauty and the Beast because Lily isn’t trying to find the “beauty” within Heath or learning to love a beast or whatever, she’s fine just the way she is and her love for Heath is unconditional. Plus the only thing beastly about Heath is her appearance…which I’ll harp on later, but her behavior is in no way different from a regular human except in very rare, specific moments.
At its heart, BatBG is a story about forgiveness (the creator literally says as much) , but it’s also about the cycle of violence that results from being outcasted and deprived of love. BatBG is set in a world of humans and monsters, where the monsters are outcasted and either have to stay away from human society like Heath or assimilate themselves by hiding away their monster like traits, which is a really queer narrative on top of an already queer story. I don’t want to go into too much spoilers, but sometime before the beginning of the story, Heath in-directly hurts Lily before they ever meet. However, it’s not about Lily needing to forgive Heath, or trying to get over the pain she inflicted upon her, rather its Heath learning to forgive herself and in effect, learning to love herself as much as Lily loves her.
Another big aspect of BatBG is disabilities, Lily Blind is in fact Blind lol and while there are times she struggles with her blindness, she never views her disability as something she needs to be ashamed of and never, ever, blames Heath for it or holds it against her unlike what many, many, many, many other stories end up doing. Her blindness isn’t treated like a super power either, it’s a legitimate disability. She just accepts that it’s a part of her and goes onto say that if not for her blindness, she would’ve never met the love of her life, which I found to be an incredibly profound thing to say.
Now that I’ve gotten this far, I suppose I can add a bit of a disclaimer. So BatBG is waaaaay more explicit about the physical affection between the girls than in any of the previous stories I talked about. Heath and Lily are constantly kissing on, hugging, and almost always flirting with each other, and make no mistake, these girls do be fucking. The sex scenes are never perverted or gross, but genuinely super sweet and romantic, which makes it way hotter imo (huh imagine that🤔). And aside from being hot, it also serves a purpose! Lily’s pretty damn horny underneath all her nice girl antics and while it’s not a major part of her character, it does give a slight edge to her personality and, most importantly, balances out the dynamic between Heath and Lily. It would’ve been very easy to fall into that boring trope where Heath is aggressively horny and Lily is the submissive blind girl, but by making Lily be the one to initiate the sexual encounters, it not only compliments Heath’s more reserved nature, but breaks the stereotype that people with disabilities are pure precious being who couldn’t possibly have sex, which is ableist af btw. Many people think the existence of any sex scenes at all is superfluous, but in BatBG, it truly elevates the story, the characters, and the romance in ways that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying without it.
Now, with as much praise I gave BatBG, there is one criticism I have, but it’s a quibble really, and it can be explained in a single image:
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There is a dissonance between the story and the art, the story says: “Heath is a big, ugly scary monster”
The art says:
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And like yes, it can be argued that Heath is simply regurgitating the things bigoted people have said to her, but at no point in the story is this ever challenged or brought up in any meaningful way. Lily is blind so she doesn’t know what the hell she looks like and the other characters aren’t any help either. It’s not a big deal or anything, it just would’ve elevated the story if Heath was actually kinda ugly/more monstrous and not incredibly beautiful because right now it’s giving skinny girl who calls herself fat all the time, and it’s like, babe, who tf are you fooling? 😭
Other than that, BatBG is incredibly profound despite its premise being so deceptively simple and I love it to pieces so …yeah! READ IT.
4. Superwomen in Love! Honey Trap and Rapid Rabbit by sometime
Well, at least there are no blondes
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So imma just abbreviate to SiL btw
Alright, let’s get started. The premise is that a villainess falls for the super hero girl and then that plotline is dropped in about 16 pages. I’m not even joking, the villainess falls for the hero, loses her job as a villain and then joins the hero all in one chapter. The REAL plot is actually about a council of evil alien-humans who want to destroy humanity because of generic super villain reason #434: the leader of the aliens is sad and misunderstood :( I’m not even going to lie, I had 0 interest in “X” (the generic ass name of the main villain) and her band of useless lesbians. They did literally nothing in the story except be a nuisance and contribute to X’s incel breakdown at the end. Their inclusion actively made SiL worse because the story has this weird tonal problem where in one breath the villains are portrayed as complete jokes and then you turn the page and now they’re shooting children like girl what💀 And these useless lesbians hog sooooo much of SiL that desperately needed to be given to Honey trap and Hayate to develop their relationship.
When the story DOES actually focus on Honey Trap and Hayate, it’s pretty good, even cute at times, there just wasn’t enough time given to them to flesh their relationship out. As it stands, Honey Trap and Hayate don’t have much of a dynamic, or personality for that matter. Honey Trap’s main gimmick is that she’s extremely horny for Hayate and delulu:
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Aside from that, she’s a great value version of Heath, but even a watered down character is better than, like, nothing. All I really know about Hayate is that she’s nice, heroic, likes wearing tacky clothes and ….that’s it. She loves Honey Trap because…………they fought together a few times so why not🤷‍♀️ I’d say at least that’s better than Tamen De Gushi, but actually it’s not because these grown ass women don’t even kiss , all we get is a love confession and their gremlin love child and that’s supposed to be satisfying I guess.
And the worst part is that SiL has the audacity to pretend the romance was something that it clearly wasn’t:
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Girl…yall were “””enemies””” for 10 panels.
Now, it’s stated they have been rivals for a while, but I guess Honey Trap forgot all of that because the moment she sees Hayate’s face, my good sis is pussy whipped for life. And that’s in spite of apparently being the evilest one out of the evil group because Honey Trap has no grudge or baggage toward Hayate. She immediately turns good with no issues and Hayate is only distrustful of Honey Trap for 1 or 2 speech bubbles and then she’s not. Anything else that happened was off screen, which means it didn’t happen. Ironically, the very next entry on this list will do a MUCH better job at an ex-villain love story, but for SiL, there’s just not much going on.
Another reading of this story is to call it a “parody” but…no, it isn’t. SiL isn’t a comedy, yes there are comedic moments that poke fun of the genre, but the rest of the story genuinely wants you to take it seriously. Except it can’t. X and her league of dimwits are boring as piss and they oscillate between Saturday morning cartoon villains and child murderers seemingly on a whim. So I can neither be endeared to them nor take them as a serious threat. Honey Trap and Hayate are there, but I lament on all the potential lost from what could’ve been an amazing relationship.
5. Yamujiburo/Kianamaiart’s Hanamusa webcomic
This one is kind of cheating, but I also don’t care let me talk about hot MILFs💀
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So the final entry on this list is a webcomic series by one of my fave artist: kianamaiart! And it’s right here on tumblr so check it out!
I stumbled upon this webcomic a few weeks ago, fell in love and now I want to talk about it. This yuri pair thankfully has no blonde femme in sight and instead features two popular Pokémon characters: Jessie from Team Rocket and Delia Ketchum, Ash Ketchum’s mom. What I love about this ship and the world Kiana creates around them is that it’s a very unconventional pairing. There’s just not many romances where a single mom falls in love with an ex gang member and the best part is, Delia being a mom is a big part of her character and she doesn’t ignore Ash in favor of her new relationship with Jessie. She has time for both and doesn’t prioritize one over the other, which many ppl fail to do even irl so good on you Delia!
Now, as for the romance it self, Jessie and Delia are a unique pair. Jessie’s overconfident, brash, drama queen personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “dominant” role and Delia’s sweet, motherly personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “submissive” role. Their dynamic in the webcomic actually plays out in the reverse, Jessie is the one who gets easily flustered and Delia’s…intense, to say the least:
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(But Tbf if Delia looked at me like that I’d be at her beck and call too💀)
This subversion of these tropes creates a fun dynamic for the couple and it’s super adorable to see how their energies bounce off each other in each new situation Kiana puts them in. I also love how both Jessie and Delia inspire each other to live out their dreams and they become better versions of themselves by being together.
And one last thing, I don’t have any smart commentary to go along with this, I just really like this drawing of Jessie:
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no thoughts, head empty
Final Thoughts
Soooo yeah, that’s the end of my dissertation on yuri comics. I know I ended up dragging a lot of popular yuri, but it wasn’t my intention to make you guys hate any of things I talked about. These were just my thoughts as an avid yuri fan, so let me know your thoughts as well, especially if you read any of the yuri I talked about. And even though I’m super picky about the type of yuri I read, I’d still love to hear any recommendations. Who knows, it might dethrone the undefeated champ that is Beauty and the Beast Girl.
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I Know it Won’t Work || Tom Blyth x singer!reader
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Summary: You and Tom break up after three years of dating and you perform a song about the truth of the breakup for the first time live.
Warnings: slight age gap, reader is 23 and Tom is 30
Wc: 658
A/n: these r addicting to make lol. Also, changed up some lyrics for the sake of the storyline making sense. 2/4? Fics I’m posting today!
Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist
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Divider by @pommecita
You let out a shaky breath, "I left you here, heard you keep the extra closet empty," You sing the first words of your unreleased song to the crowd. "In case this year, I come back and stay throughout my twenties, what if I won't? How am I supposed to put that gently?" You had just freshly turned 23 and broken up with Tom.
You honestly don't know how you ended up here, in-front of a crowd of hundreds in London. Performing in front of people was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment but you had to keep a strong front for your supporters, this show was highly anticipated.
"I've had the thought, tried to work it out through anxious pacin'" Your biggest coping mechanism was writing songs. You never knew how to really express your emotions in sentences to someone, so instead, you write them into songs. Your real feelings and emotions laced into words that in the end, formed a song.
"But it's a lot, all the shine of three happy years fadin'" The crowd watched in silence, partly because it was a new song and they did not know the lyrics to sing along, but also because they were mesmerised. Your voice held so much emotion.
Your fans weren't aware that the two of you have broken up, but a few had already pieced it up. "The whole facade, seemed to fall apart, it's complicated." Everyone viewed you and Tom as the power couple, deeply in love with one another with no flaw or doubt in the relationship
While half of it was true, the other half wasn't. The seven year age gap different had been brought up so many times throughout your relationship. You remember the first time the two of you got together, you were 20 and he was 27.
You both received heavy backlash from the internet but the two of you ignored them all. They weren't the ones in the relationship, they weren't the ones to make the call about whether or not you should be together.
"And part of me wants to walk away 'till you really listen, I hate to look at your face and know that we're feelin' different," As the three years went by, uou hoped you weren't the only one in the relationship that doubted a few things. You didn’t want to admit that other people's comments were getting to you. As the three years progressed with Tom, you felt as if you were just both in such different phases of life.
You were still so young in your early twenties and fresh in your career while it seemed that Tom was ready to settle down, marry, and start a family. He would always mention starting a family and you would listen, not really knowing what to say to him.
But recently, you came into terms with the truth that both you and Tom don't share the same feelings or goals at the moment. "Cause part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" You loved Tom, parts of you still do. He never did anything wrong, he was everything you could have ever wished for. You like to think of him as the right person, wrong time.
But nothing was going to change the fact that you two were just in different stages of life. Nothing will change the seven year age gap between the two of you. "I know we cut all the ties, but you're never really leavin'"
Tom hasn't left your mind. It would've been easier if he did. But he just couldn't. "And part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" Your voice slightly cracks, a single tear drop runs down your face. Eyes closed, you let it. The dewy stream your tear left—accentuated with the bright lights focused on you—did not go unnoticed.
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fatecantstopme · 3 months
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: Enemies to lovers…the three times you and Dean/Sam work together and the final time when everything changes
Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names, body shaming, mentions of injuries and wound care. SMUT, face sitting, oral (F receiving) unprotected sex (P in V).
A/N: y'all I'm sorry, but I made Dean a total asshole for the beginning part of this. I had to for the storyline...don't hate me, it's got a GREAT ending.
You'd been hunting for close to five years when you first met Sam and Dean Winchester. The three of you happened to be working the same case in a small town in Ohio.
You and Sam hit it off instantly, but Dean was much more closed off and stand-offish. In fact, he was down-right rude most of the time. He made it very clear he didn't like you, nor did he want your help with the case.
Sam tried to get Dean to be a little more friendly, but it didn't matter what he did, Dean was not a fan of you and he showed it.
"If this wasn't an entire nest of vampires, I would be absolutely fine walking away from this," you said to Dean. "But I'm not about to let the two of you go in there alone."
"We don't need your help," Dean snapped.
"Well you've got it, so suck it up."
Sam stepped in. "Why don't we all just calm down."
"Shut up, Sam!" you and Dean yelled at the same time.
Sam threw up his hands and stepped back. He didn't wanna argue with either of you.
"I don't need help from some geek who probably can't even fight," Dean hissed.
"What's that supposed to mean? I'm a damn good fighter, Winchester," you growled.
Dean looked you up and down with disdain. It was very clear where his brain went and you did not appreciate his assumptions. Maybe you didn't really look like a traditional hunter, but you were good at it.
"No offense, (Y/N), but you don't exactly inspire confidence in your fighting abilities."
You took a deep breath and tried not to lash out. "You're an asshole, Dean Winchester, and honestly I don't care what happens to you, but your brother is a good person. You might both be amazing hunters, but I'm not letting Sam go in there without more than just you for backup."
Sam cut in before Dean could respond. "I agree with (Y/N), Dean. She's coming with us."
Dean shot his brother a dark glare, but Sam didn't back down. "You know what? Fine. If she dies, it's her fault."
"Fine with me," you snapped back at him.
Dean stomped out of the motel room, leaving you and Sam alone.
"I'm sorry about him," Sam said softly. "He's been different since Dad died."
You shook your head. "Don't apologize for him, Sam. I'm just worried his head isn't in the game and it's gonna get you killed."
Sam sighed. "I know. I'm worried about him too."
You let out a long sigh. "The only thing we can do is hope we all make it out of this alive."
Sam nodded his agreement. "Let's go before he gets even more annoyed."
You grabbed your gear and headed out the door after Sam.
As you'd predicted, clearing out the vampire nest required all three of you. By the time the last vamp fell to the ground--headless--you had more than proven yourself. Or at least, that's what you thought.
Sam, ever the gentleman, was extremely grateful for your help. "We couldn't have done it without you," he commented.
You were about to reply when Dean let out a rude scoff. You turned your attention to him with narrowed eyes. "Got something you wanna say, Winchester?"
He glared at you. "We would have been just fine without you."
"You know what? Screw you. If you wanna make terrible decisions that might get you killed, go for it, but don't drag your brother down with you."
Dean looked like he wanted to say more, but you'd stormed off in the direction of your car. You wanted to get back to the motel, shower, and go to bed. You needed to be on the road in the morning--on your way to another case.
Once you were out of earshot, Sam snapped at his brother. "Dude, what the hell has gotten into you?"
"What? You got the hots for the fat chick?"
"Don't talk about her like that, it's incredibly demeaning. Besides, she more than proved herself tonight."
"Whatever. Let's just get the hell out of here."
The next morning, you said your goodbyes to Sam, offering him your assistance in the future should he ever need it. You didn't bother to address Dean, knowing it was unlikely he would even respond.
Once you hit the highway, your mind began to focus on your next case--leaving the Winchester boys far behind.
**********
It had been close to 6 months since the hunt with Sam and Dean, and you were surprised to get a call from Sam requesting your assistance on another case.
"We think it's demonic omens," Sam explained.
You sighed. "How bad we talking?"
"We're not sure, but we could really use your help."
"Did you clear it with your brother?"
There was a long pause on the other end of the line that told you everything you needed to know.
"Sam..."
"Look, I didn't say anything to him, but even he admitted we needed to call for help."
You sighed again, running your fingers through your hair. "Fine, but only because you asked."
"Thank you, (Y/N). I really appreciate it."
You hung up the phone and packed your bag to head to the middle of nowhere Oklahoma.
You didn't often meet people you didn't get along with, but Dean Winchester was certainly one of those people. You hated him and he quite obviously hated you. You weren't sure what it was about you he disliked so much, but you didn't appreciate the way he treated you.
There was something in the way he looked at you--disdain or disgust, you weren't sure, but you'd seen it in other men's eyes. You knew what it was...it was a judgment you'd seen a thousand times before. You'd struggled with your weight your whole life and some men (and women too) had the tendency to judge you based on your physical appearance.
It didn't help that you were a woman in a very male-dominated job. Male hunters had the tendency to judge you with a single look. It didn't matter that you were smart and capable--that you were a great hunter in your own right. All they saw was the outside and that was all they needed to decide what you could do--what you were capable of.
Unfortunately, Dean Winchester was apparently one of those hunters. Sam clearly saw there was more to you than appearances and you appreciated being given the benefit of the doubt. Sam had given you the chance to prove yourself and you'd done so, but that didn't seem to change Dean's perception of you.
You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt more because of who he was. Dean Winchester was a well-known figure in the hunting community, as were his father and brother. You knew he was a truly amazing hunter and part of you craved his approval. There was also something to be said about the way he looked...the man was gorgeous in an almost offensive way. You couldn't stop yourself from noticing, but you were painfully aware he did not find you attractive. As stupid as it might sound, his disdain hurt you deeply.
You sighed as you stared out the windshield at the road ahead of you. You didn't want to focus on the negative, especially when you were on your way to face what appeared to be several demons. You needed to be on your A-game...you'd be damned if you let yourself get distracted by a mere man.
Several hours later, you pulled into the parking lot of the motel the Winchesters were staying at. You went up to the motel room door and knocked, sending up a silent prayer that Sam would be the one to answer the door.
Someone must have been looking down on you favorably, because moments later, the door swung open to reveal Sam Winchester. "Thanks for coming, (Y/N)."
You smiled at him. "Of course. You call, I come."
Sam gestured for you to come in. "Dean's out getting food."
"Oh." You didn't know what else to say--part of you wished he was here so you could just get it over with, but another part of you was glad to prolong the inevitable for a little while.
"He'll be back soon," Sam said lamely.
"Okay. Should I get a room then?"
Sam shook his head. "You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."
"That's absurd, you're significantly taller than me. I'll take the couch or get my own room."
"There are no more rooms," Sam said with a shrug. "So take the bed, please. I'll feel like an asshole if you sleep on the couch."
You chuckled lightly and tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door. "Alright, fine. I wouldn't want to offend your gentlemanly sensibilities," you teased.
He smiled, but before he could respond, the door swung open and the elder Winchester walked through carrying a bag of diner food.
You swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn't have anything nasty to say right away.
Unfortunately, it seemed your luck had run out. "What's she doing here?" Dean asked in annoyance.
"She's here to help," Sam answered.
Dean threw the bag of food on the table. "I'm sorry--when I told you to call for backup, this is who you called?"
"She was available and she's more than capable," Sam argued.
"I don't give a damn. You should have called someone else. She'll get herself killed--or one of us."
"She has a name," you snapped. "And she's right here."
Dean turned his attention to you and you could see the fiery anger in his gaze. You didn't understand what about you made him so angry, but he certainly didn't give you a chance to ask.
"Have you ever even faced a demon, (Y/N)?" The way he emphasized your name was dripping with condescension.
"Actually, I have. More than once."
A flash of surprise crossed his face, but was gone quickly. "How many people died when you did?"
"One," you answered, trying to keep your voice level. "The innocent woman some demon scum was wearing."
"Were you alone?"
"Every time."
If you'd expected Dean to be impressed, you'd have been sorely mistaken. "This will be a hundred times worse. Half this town is demon-infested and countless people will die. Can you handle that?"
"It's the job," you answered as calmly as you could.
Dean regarded you quietly for a moment, before seeming to accept your answer. "Don't get us killed." He turned away from you and sat down at the table to eat his dinner, ignoring you once more.
You glanced over at Sam who looked extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't comment on anything that had been said. Instead he asked his brother if he'd gotten enough food to share with you too.
Before you were able to say you'd already eaten dinner, Dean made an offhand comment that struck a nerve.
"I don't think we have enough food for her even if you and I don't eat."
Sam gasped. "Dean!"
You froze for a moment, tears pressing against your eyes, but you didn't dare shed them. You pushed your emotions down and took a deep breath. "I actually already ate."
"Thank god," Dean mumbled.
"That's it!" you snapped. "What the hell is your problem with me, Winchester?"
He looked up at you with an annoyed glare. "I don't like you and I don't trust you."
"I don't care for you either, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me like shit. I haven't insulted you a single time, but you've managed to insult me several times from the moment we met. Either shut the hell up or I'll be forced to fight fire with fire."
He raised a single eyebrow at you, but he didn't say a single word. You were surprised at his silence, but you were done with the conversation. "I'm going to shower."
As soon as the bathroom door closed, Sam threw a wrapper at Dean. "What the hell, man?"
Dean shrugged. "What? I don't like her."
"What the hell did she ever do to you?"
"She didn't have to do anything. I just don't like her."
"Fine, but don't treat her like that," Sam requested. "She doesn't deserve your animosity...and you're better than this."
Dean didn't comment one way or the other, his silence signaling the end of the conversation.
"That was incredibly stupid of you!" Dean yelled.
"Oh fuck off, Winchester!" you yelled back. "You'd be dead if I hadn't!"
"I didn't ask you to save me!"
The argument was a waste of breath, but Dean didn't want to let it go and neither did you. You'd saved Dean's life during a fight with a demon and it put your own life at great risk.
"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," you growled.
"You could have gotten Sammy killed, you idiot! He had to save your stupid ass because you wanted to play the hero!"
"Dean, that's not--" Sam began.
"Why can't you just be thankful you're not dead?!" you snapped. "And neither is your brother, for that matter!"
Dean's eyes were filled with a rage so dark it frightened you. "I don't understand how you've managed to survive this long on your own, but I doubt it'll last much longer if you keep pulling stupid stunts like that."
You'd managed to regain control of your temper, so you bit your lip to keep from yelling at him again. "You know what? I'm done. Don't ask for my help again."
"(Y/N) wait--" Sam called.
"No, Sam. I'm done. I can't put up with his attitude and you know what? I don't have to. Please don't call me again unless you're hunting alone."
You walked away from both men, fully expecting to never see either one of them again.
**********
Fate, of course, had other plans. One year later, almost to the day, you saved Sam Winchester's life...
You'd been working a case in a small town in Texas and you'd heard rumblings of a missing FBI agent who had been doing research in the town a couple days before you'd arrived.
You knew it was unlikely a real FBI agent had been conducting an investigation here...the events that had led you here clearly indicated the presence of a witch--a damn powerful one at that. As such, it was clear to you a hunter pretending to be FBI had been on the case before you.
You quickly put the pieces together and realized the witch you were hunting had likely kidnapped the other hunter and was doing god only knows what to him.
The more people you talked to, the more certain you were that the missing hunter/FBI agent was none other than Sam Winchester. All of the descriptions people gave you sounded exactly like him.
You tried calling his cell phone several times, but he didn't answer. You didn't want to place the next call, but you didn't see another option. You pressed his name in the phone and put it to your ear.
"Why are you calling me?" Dean's voice asked from the other end of the line.
"Do you know where your brother is?"
"I haven't spoken to him in a while."
"So that's a no?"
You heard him swear under his breath. "Why does it matter, (Y/N)?" he snapped.
"I'm hunting a witch that I think your brother was also hunting. He's missing."
"What do you mean, missing?"
"I mean no one in town has seen him in two days."
Dean was silent for a moment. "Where are you?"
"Lockhart, Texas."
"I'll be there by tomorrow morning."
He hung up without saying anything else, leaving you alone with your worry.
You knew you didn't have time to wait for Dean's arrival. You needed to find Sam...witches were no joke. You'd never forgive yourself if he died because you waited.
You started diving into your research, trying to identify the witch. This is what you were good at, but the added pressure of finding Sam clouded your brain.
You took a deep breath and tried to clear your head. You needed to focus--Sam needed you.
You turned your attention back to your work and noticed you had more clarity. Before you knew it, four hours had passed. You felt like you were no closer to finding this witch than you had been that morning.
You were about ready to give up for a while when you noticed something you'd missed before. You started flipping through the pages you had on the table in front of you and gasped softly. "Her," you mumbled, underlining the name on the page.
You quickly looked up the woman's address and within minutes, you were rushing out the door, on your way to--hopefully--save your friend.
When you pulled up in front of the house, every instinct you had told you you were in the right place. You couldn't explain why, but you just knew this was it.
You double checked your weapons before getting out of the car and making your way around the back of the house as quickly and quietly as possible.
You manage to get into the house without notifying the occupant and began creeping your way through the house, checking each room for signs of Sam or the witch.
You knew there was no basement in the house--Texas homes don't have basements--so there were a limited number of places Sam could be.
You'd cleared the first floor and slowly made your way up to the second floor. As you neared the first room, you heard two voices talking from farther down the hallway.
You immediately made your way towards the voices, moving slowly so as to not make any sound. As you got closer, you heard a female voice followed by a male voice you instantly recognized--Sam.
You continued on quietly until you reached the door. You listened closely, trying to make out what was being said.
"All you have to do," the female voice said, "is tell me who else you're working with."
"I told you," Sam's voice said angrily, "I'm working alone."
"Then why is there a woman looking for you?"
"A woman?" Sam's voice was laced with confusion.
"She's been asking around town about you."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Sam cried out in pain and you nearly barged through the door on instinct. You controlled yourself, continuing to remain motionless while listening.
"Samuel...stop lying to me. Who is the woman?"
"I don't know," he insisted before crying out in pain again.
After a few moments, Sam spoke again, slightly breathless. "Look, if you're gonna kill me, just do it. I have nothing more to say to you."
The witch laughed darkly. "Perhaps you're right. You're of no use to me anymore."
Sam yelled in pain and you knew it was time to act. You swung the door open and entered the room with your gun pointed ahead of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, landing on Sam, who was sitting in the center of the room, arms tied to a chair. Your gaze next landed on the witch who was in the middle of chanting some sort of spell.
It took you less than a second to decide what to do, and that second was all you needed. You pulled the trigger and watched the bullet strike the witch's chest. She looked shocked, eyes locked on your face as she fell to her knees. Her gaze never left you as she took her final breath, now nothing but an empty vessel on the floor.
You ran over to Sam, taking in his injuries quickly. Seeing nothing of immediate concern you started to cut his bindings.
"(Y/N)?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Hunting a witch, obviously."
He chuckled lightly. "But how did you find me?"
"A little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck."
"Somehow I doubt that," he said softly.
Your eyes met his as you cut the final rope. You offered him a small smile, but remained silent.
"Seriously, (Y/N). Thank you."
You shrugged. "You would have done the same for me."
"I didn't think I'd ever see you again after last time," he admitted.
"Honestly, I didn't either," you whispered. "But when I realized you were here, I knew I couldn't leave you. I, uh--I called Dean."
Sam's eyes widened in shock. "You did what?!"
"I was worried about you and you weren't answering your phone, so I called him. I hoped he'd know where you were."
Sam sighed. "We actually haven't been hunting together for a while."
You nodded. "He mentioned that...but he's--um, well he's on his way."
"Great," he mumbled. "Come on, let's get out of here."
"I'm sorry," you said softly. "I didn't know."
"It's fine, (Y/N). You didn't know."
Unsurprisingly, Sam was staying at the same motel as you, so you drove him back. Once you arrived, you helped him out of his shirt and began to clean his wounds. Several of them were deep enough to require stitches, but there didn't appear to be anything life threatening.
"You're very lucky," you muttered.
Sam grabbed your hand, stopping you in the middle of a stitch. "It wasn't luck, (Y/N/N). You saved my life."
You sighed quietly and continued sewing his skin back together.
"I'm serious. I owe you my life."
"You don't owe me anything."
"I do. I guess both of us do now."
"What?"
"You saved Dean's life last year. He might have behaved like an ass, but he owes you his life as much as I owe you mine."
You finished the stitch and moved on to the next cut. "We're hunters, Sam. It's what we do."
"Doesn't mean I'm not grateful."
You offered him a soft smile. "Well then, you're welcome."
After about 30 minutes of constant wound care, you'd managed to clean and stitch up all his cuts. He'd been awake for almost 2 days at this point and just wanted a shower and some sleep.
He agreed to take a shower while you ran out and got some food that you practically forced him to eat before he collapsed on the bed, sound asleep within seconds.
You ate your dinner quietly, watching the large man sleep. You were incredibly glad you'd managed to save him--it would have haunted you forever if you'd been too late.
Eventually, you crawled into the other bed and passed out, forgetting for a moment that Dean Winchester was still on his way to Lockhart in search of his brother.
Early the next morning, you were awoken by loud, insistent knocking on the motel door. You dragged yourself out of bed, muttering under your breath as you made your way over to the door.
"Calm down, I'm coming," you hissed quietly. You looked through the peep hole and saw a slightly disheveled Dean Winchester standing on the other side.
You opened the door and he practically ran into the room, eyes searching the space for his brother. His gaze finally landed on Sam's sleeping form and his whole body instantly relaxed. Sam was peacefully still--exhaustion keeping him asleep.
You walked over to Dean and tentatively touched his arm to jostle him out of his trance. "He's alright," you murmured.
Dean shook his head to clear it and turned to you. "What?"
"Sam's okay," you repeated. "Just some cuts and bruises, but he'll live."
"What happened?"
You explained what had happened and how you'd identified the witch and found Sam.
"You saved his life," Dean whispered.
"He would have done the same for me."
"Still...you didn't have to, but you did it anyway. Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me."
"Yeah," Dean mumbled. "I do."
You were both silent for a moment before Dean continued talking.
"Sam and I--well, we haven't been talking lately. I--I would have been devastated if something happened to him before I could apologize. I was mad and stupid and I said things I didn't mean...but he's still my brother. I can't lose him."
For the first time since you met him, you saw something more to Dean Winchester--something beneath the facade. It was obvious he truly loved his brother and in this moment he was showing a rare piece of humanity that shocked you. Maybe beneath the gruff, rude exterior, there was something genuinely good.
"Why don't you get some sleep," you said softly. "I'm sure you're tired from your drive and Sam will want to see you in the morning."
Dean turned his gaze back to you. "Thanks...I--uh, I am kinda tired." His face told you he wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words.
Your expression softened. "I'll take the couch. Don't worry about it."
He shook his head immediately. "No, go back to sleep. I'll take the couch."
You decided not to argue, instead crawling into bed and falling asleep quickly. Something about Dean's presence made you feel safe.
The next morning, you awoke to the sound of voices in the room. As you oriented yourself, you realized it was Sam and Dean talking quietly across the room. You remained quiet and still, ears listening to the discussion.
It was clear they'd been talking for a while and the conversation had turned to the current situation.
"I can't believe she saved you," Dean whispered.
"Neither can I, to be honest. I don't even know how she found me. She said it was mostly luck."
"A year ago, I would have agreed with that," Dean stated. "But now? She's saved both of our lives--I have to admit she's a damn good hunter."
A small smile played on your lips and you were glad they couldn't see your face from their angle.
"That's a lot coming from you," Sam said in surprise. "What changed?"
"Honestly? Me," Dean answered. "A lot has happened in the last 6 months Sammy. I've taken the time away to really get my shit together. I was just so damn empty and I was taking it out on everyone, including you. But I've said some terrible things to (Y/N) and I don't know how to apologize. Hell, I don't even know if she'd want me to apologize. I treated her terribly and I wouldn't be surprised if she hated me."
"I'm pretty sure she does," Sam said softly. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize or you can't fix it. You owe her your life as much as I do...that should mean something."
"I know," Dean admitted. "I've been such an asshole to her. I don't even think I deserve her forgiveness."
"It's worth a shot, Dean."
You couldn't see Dean's face, but you could hear the emotion in his voice. It made you think he truly meant what he was saying. Before this moment, you wouldn't have even considered listening to a word this man had to say to you...but now you felt like you owed it to him--or maybe yourself--to hear him out, should he choose to apologize.
You'd gotten out of bed not long after overhearing Sam and Dean's conversation. After a nice shower, you were getting your things together to head back out onto the road--onto your next hunt.
"I'm gonna grab some breakfast," Sam called out. "You guys want me to bring you something?"
"Coffee and a breakfast sandwich, please," you said in response.
"Coffee and an absurd amount of bacon," Dean added.
Sam groaned. "You are so gonna have a heart attack."
"I'm not gonna live long enough for that, Sammy, so don't worry about me. Bacon is worth it."
You chuckled softly and Dean shot you a look. When he noticed the soft smirk on your face, he smiled in return. "I think (Y/N) agrees."
Sam sighed. "Whatever--I'll be back in a while."
You waved at Sam's back before returning your attention to your duffle. You threw your last couple items into it before zipping it up.
"So..." Dean said awkwardly from behind you.
You sighed heavily before turning to face him. "Yes?"
"I...I, um--fuck," he muttered. "I owe you an apology."
You folded your arms across your chest. "Go on."
You'd never seen him look so uncomfortable and a part of you was happy about it. You felt bad for feeling that way, but after everything Dean had said and done to you since you'd met, he more than deserved it.
"I've been a major asshole."
You nodded your agreement.
He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I've said some truly horrible things to you and uh--about you. Things I never should have thought, let alone said aloud."
He fell silent and waited for a moment as if he was hoping you would disagree.
"Is that all?"
He exhaled slowly. "Look, you saved my life and I treated you like shit--then you go and save my brother's life even after everything I've done."
"I didn't do it for you."
"No--no, I know. I just...I suck at apologies."
You chuckled lightly. "A bit, yeah."
"What I'm trying to say is--I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I was wrong to treat you the way I did and I'm so fucking sorry, (Y/N). I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I was such an asshole. I don't have a good excuse--I was broken and hurting and I chose to take it out on everyone around me. I'm not trying to excuse what I did--I just want you to know that I'm not usually like that. I've spent the last year trying to find myself again and I'm closer than I've ever been. But, umm that's not the point--it's not about me. I--fuck--I'm just so goddamn sorry, (Y/N)."
You offered him a small smile. "I genuinely appreciate your apology, Winchester. Especially because I can see how difficult it was for you to do it."
He looked relieved. "I'm not good at this sort of thing."
"It's okay. You got your point across."
"Oh, one more thing."
"Hmm?"
"You're a damn good hunter."
You smiled genuinely for the first time and Dean couldn't help but notice how it lit up your whole face. Your smile was contagious--and he found himself returning the expression.
Before you could thank him, Sam came back with breakfast.
"Am I interrupting?" Sam asked.
"No, we're good," Dean answered.
Sam looked at you and you nodded. He looked relieved, but he didn't comment on the situation.
Dean's stomach grumbled and he reached for the bag of takeout. "Let's eat."
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Sam asked.
You shook your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I think you guys need some time alone. Rekindle your relationship, mend fences, etc."
Sam nodded. "Alright, but please call us if you need anything--and I mean anything."
He wrapped you in a hug, which you happily returned. "You know I will."
He stepped back and headed out to the car, leaving you and Dean alone.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now," Dean said.
You turned to him with a smile. "I guess it is."
You stuck your hand out and Dean shook it tentatively.
"We're not at the hugging stage yet, Winchester," you said lightly.
He chuckled softly. "I've gotta earn that?"
"Oh yeah," you teased.
Dean grinned, liking the teasing tone in your voice. "I'll work on it. Stay safe, (Y/N)...call us if you need anything."
You nodded. "Same to you. Keep Sammy safe, okay?"
"I always will."
**********
You dragged yourself across the floor of the old, dirty warehouse, pain radiating through most of your body. You heard the footsteps of the creature you'd been hunting as it crossed the room towards you. You could see your cellphone lying several yards away, your gun not far from it. You knew this was it--you were gonna die.
You were breathing heavily, the pain almost unbearable. You didn't want to die, but you knew you wouldn't be able to reach your gun in time.
The creature took another step towards you and growled lowly. You looked up at it and resigned yourself to death.
"Hey, ugly!" a man's voice yelled from behind the creature.
The creature turned in the direction of the voice and a gunshot rang out. The creature cried out in pain and dropped to the ground dead about a foot from you.
You released the breath you'd been holding, the sharp exhale making your ribs ache. You heard footsteps rushing towards you and what you saw made you smile a little.
"(Y/N)!" Sam yelled as he dropped to the ground beside you. "You okay?"
Dean was right behind him, coming to a stop on the other side of your body. You could see the concern in both of their faces as their eyes scanned your body, looking for serious injuries.
"Hey guys," you said softly. "I'm alright."
"Can you stand?" Sam asked.
You nodded and the boys started to help you up. You groaned in pain, exhaling slowly to try and ease it.
"Easy," Dean said softly. "I've got you."
Sam raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment. He just continued to help you until you were standing up fully. Dean's arm slipped around your waist and pulled you against his side, holding you upright.
"Lean on me, okay? I've got you." He turned to his brother. "You handle the monster, I'll get (Y/N) to the car."
Dean moved slowly, allowing you to lean into him as you limped beside him. "You alright, (Y/N)?" he asked softly.
"That damn thing beat the hell outta me...definitely some bruised ribs, pretty sure I sprained my ankle, and I've got some pretty deep gashes on my back and hip. Otherwise though, I'm peachy."
Dean chuckled softly. "Tough as nails, this one."
"Minus the whole 'almost died' thing."
"Hey, don't worry about that. Happens to the best of us."
"I've noticed," you said lightly.
He laughed. "Rude."
"Seriously, though, thanks for saving my ass."
"My pleasure, (Y/N). Besides, I owed you."
You whimpered slightly when Dean shifted to help you as you approached the stairway.
"Shit, (Y/N), sorry. You okay?"
"I'm fine," you lied through gritted teeth.
"Liar," he mumbled. "Hold still."
You did as he asked, watching in confusion as he took a step away from you, sliding his left arm under your legs and scooping you up into his arms.
You gasped in pain and surprise. "What are you doing?!"
"Sorry if that hurt you, but this will be a hell of a lot easier--and less painful for you."
"You are not carrying me down the stairs, Winchester," you hissed.
"You gonna stop me?" he asked harshly. When you were silent, he smirked smugly. "Didn't think so."
You held on tightly as Dean carried you down the stairs with shocking ease. You knew you weren't light and it surprised you he was able to carry you without issue.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, you stirred against him. "You can put me down now."
"Not happening. I'll put you down when we get to the car."
You stared at him in shock. The man in front of you was so different from the man you'd met almost three years prior. Hell, he was even different from the man who'd apologized to you 8 months ago.
"You've changed," you whispered.
He glanced at your face, cheeks tinged pink. "For the better, I hope."
You smiled warmly. "Definitely."
Dean had driven you back to the motel, leaving Sam to bring your car back. Instead of taking you to your room, Dean brought you to his and Sam's to get you cleaned up and to check your wounds.
"Alright let me see your back," Dean said gently.
You shifted to lift the back of your shirt up, allowing Dean to see the claw marks on your lower back.
"Shit, those are deep," he muttered. "You're gonna need stitches."
"Great."
"I've got everything we need." He got up and grabbed his kit, pulling out the supplies he needed to stitch you up. "So I need unhindered access to your back."
You looked up at him, unsure of what he was saying.
He bit his lip and shifted his weight. "I, uh...I need you to take your shirt off."
Your eyes widened. "Absolutely not."
"I'm not trying to make it weird, but I need both hands to stitch, so I can't hold your shirt up too."
There was zero chance of you taking off your shirt in front of Dean fucking Winchester. Absolutely not. No way in hell. He looked like that and you...well you didn't like anyone to see you without a shirt off.
"How 'bout I lay down on my stomach and pull my shirt up so it's out of the way?"
He sighed. "Fine, it's a reasonable compromise."
You nodded gratefully and laid down on your stomach, but the moment you did, you cried out in pain and rolled onto your side.
Dean was beside you in an instant. "What's wrong?"
"Ribs," you muttered.
"Shit..." he paused for a moment. "(Y/N) please let me help you."
You looked up at him, tears filling your eyes--a mixture of pain and embarrassment.
"Hey," he said softly. "You're okay. I know it's not fun, but I need to get you stitched up before the cuts get infected."
You bit your lip and nodded. "Will you turn around until I'm ready?"
Dean offered you a soft smile. "Of course." He turned around and waited for you to tell him you were ready.
You moved slowly, lifting your shirt off over your head, inhaling sharply at the painful movements. A whimper left your lips, the pain forcing the sound out.
It took all of Dean's self-control to not turn around when he heard your soft whimper, but he'd promised to wait.
You balled your shirt up in front of you, using it to hide your stomach and as much of your chest as you could. "Okay," you whispered.
Dean turned around slowly, keeping his gaze on your face. He was very tempted to look down, but he knew it would be unwelcome. He settled onto the bed behind you and began to clean your wounds.
You hissed at the contact, wincing away from him.
"Sorry, sweetheart."
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head--shock settling into your bones at the sound of the pet name.
You tried to remain still as he continued cleaning, despite the pain that was radiating through your body.
"Alright, they're clean," Dean said gently. "Time for the stitches."
You tensed up as he gently placed his calloused hand against your skin.
"Just relax, okay? I've got you."
You did your best to relax and Dean started to stitch your skin back together. About halfway through, Sam arrived back at the motel.
"Yikes," Sam said when he saw the deep gashes on your back. "Those look gnarly."
"Yeah, it's not great," you muttered.
"Sorry, (Y/N/N)," Sam commented. "I brought your car back though." He held up the keys with an awkward smile.
"Thanks, Sam."
"Sammy, why don't you go round us up some food?" Dean requested.
Sam raised his eyebrows as he looked between you and Dean. "Alright, sure. What do you want?"
"Burgers and pie," Dean said immediately.
"(Y/N)?"
"Yeah, sounds good," you answered.
"Alright, I'll be back." Sam grabbed the Impala keys off the table and headed back out.
"You still with me, sweetheart?"
"Mhmm," you hummed, voice laced with pain and discomfort.
"I'll be done soon enough," Dean said gently. "Then onto the ones on your hip."
"Fuck," you muttered. You'd almost forgotten about the deep cuts on your hip, but the pain started back up at the mention of them.
"I'm going as quickly as I can without giving you some seriously hideous scars," Dean whispered.
You smiled a little at the sweetness of his words. "Thanks," you murmured.
Dean found himself fighting the urge to place a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. He wanted to provide you comfort, but instead he was actively causing you pain--and he hated it.
After several more minutes of silence, Dean finished his last stitch. "All done."
You sighed gratefully. "Thank God."
"Actually, it's just Dean," he quipped lightly.
You laughed warmly, but the action hurt your ribs, causing a soft groan of pain.
"While I liked hearing you laugh, I'd rather not cause you more pain than I have to."
"Then don't make me laugh, Winchester," you teased.
He grinned. "I'm just naturally hilarious."
You chuckled again, trying to suppress the sound to prevent any pain.
"Alright, lose the pants."
"Excuse me?"
"I've gotta get to your hip somehow, sweetheart," he stated.
You groaned softly. The last thing you wanted to do was be essentially naked in front of him. "Fine, but I'm putting my shirt back on."
"Absolutely not. That thing is dirty and ruined. You're not putting it anywhere near those cuts." He started rummaging through his bag and he pulled out a flannel shirt. "Here, put this on."
You looked at him in disbelief. "I don't think I'm going to fit into your shirt."
He looked confused. "Of course you will. Just put it on."
You took the shirt from him, still convinced there was no way it would fit you. He was a large man, but you had a very full chest and soft stomach...you were used to not fitting into a man's clothing.
"Turn around," you whispered.
Dean sighed softly, but he turned around to give you the privacy you'd requested.
You pulled yourself up with a groan, tossing your dirty shirt onto the floor. You slowly pulled the flannel shirt on over your arms and nearly gasped in surprise when you realized that not only did the shirt fit you, but it was a little big on you. You buttoned the shirt quickly, feeling more than a little pleased at the way it fit. Plus, you couldn't help but notice the shirt smelled like Dean--like soap, leather, and a little bit of whiskey.
"Can I turn around now?"
"Oh...yeah."
He turned around and felt a tightening in his chest as he took in the image of you in his shirt. He didn't know he'd feel this way when he'd given you the shirt to wear, but damn--he couldn't help but notice how sexy you looked in his clothing.
"Told you it would fit," he said with a smirk. "Even looks big on you."
You blushed. "So you were right one time."
He laughed. "I promise it won't be the last."
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile remained on your lips.
"Now the pants."
"I am not taking off my pants, Winchester."
"How am I supposed to clean your wounds through your pants?"
You groaned. "God, this is embarrassing," you muttered.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. I'm just trying to help."
You groaned a second time. "Fine," you grumbled.
Dean bit his lip and looked away. He needed you to stop making those damn sounds or he was going to lose his mind.
You looked up at him warily, making sure his gaze remained averted from you. You removed your pants as quickly as you could without causing yourself more pain. A few moments later, you were standing there in nothing but your underwear and Dean's shirt. Thankfully, the shirt was long enough that it covered you both in the front and back.
"You good?" he asked softly.
"Yeah...where--where do you want me?"
Dean groaned softly, desperately trying to keep his thoughts to himself. He didn't think you'd appreciate hearing where he really wanted you.
He kept his eyes trained on your face. "Lay down on your side so I can see your hip."
You swallowed thickly, feeling the change in the air of the room. You slowly lowered yourself onto the bed, shifting to lay on your side.
Dean grabbed a pillow. "Lift your head for me." You did as he asked and he slipped the pillow under your head to make it more comfortable for you.
He climbed onto the bed behind you and exhaled slowly, trying to keep his shit together. You looked gorgeous in his shirt, round ass barely peeking out from beneath it. He felt the strong urge to smack it, but he had a feeling you'd knock him out if he did.
"Damn," he whispered as he looked at the deep claw marks on your hip. "I think these are worse."
"Yeah, they don't feel great," you muttered softly.
"I'll try to be gentle."
Dean began to clean the wounds, sadness lacing its icy tendrils around his heart every time he heard you make a pained sound.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N/N)," he whispered.
"It's fine," you ground out. "Wait, did you just call me (Y/N/N)?"
He winced slightly. "I--uh--I did. Is that okay?"
You were quiet for a moment as you contemplated it. "Yeah...yeah it's okay."
He exhaled gratefully. He hadn't meant to call you a nickname--it had just kinda slipped out. He was glad it didn't upset you.
Dean had just started the stitches when Sam came back with food.
"Woah," Sam said as he caught a glimpse of the two of you on the bed--and you without pants.
"I'm stitching the wounds on her hip, you idiot," Dean said sharply.
"Oh--wait, why is she wearing your shirt?"
"Because hers was dirty, Samuel. Any more questions?"
Sam threw his hands up in defeat. "My bad--my bad."
"You better have brought me pie," Dean grumbled.
"I didn't forget the pie," Sam said in annoyance.
Your stomach suddenly grumbled loudly. "Apparently I'm starving," you said lightly.
"As soon as I'm done with the stitches, we can eat."
Sam held a container of fries out to you. "Want some?"
"Oh thank God," you muttered as you took the container from him.
"Quit moving," Dean admonished.
"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "Fry?"
He glanced at your extended hand and simply opened his mouth. You looked at him in confusion and he nodded to his hands. "I can't exactly grab it."
"Oh, right." You took a fry out of the container and held it out to him. He leaned forward and took the fry from your hand, a soft moan of enjoyment escaping his lips.
You felt a warmth spread through your lower body and your breathing became a little more labored. You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze, unable to look at him without blushing.
You continued eating your fries quietly as Dean finished stitching the cuts.
"All....done," Dean said softly as he finished the final stitch.
"Thank you," you said softly. You started to try and sit up and Dean grabbed you to help. "You're not gonna let me put my pants on, are you?"
Dean grinned ear to ear. "I mean, I do like you like this, but I'll let you put on pants--if you insist."
Your eyes widened slightly and you blushed deeply.
"But not your pants, of course," Dean said with a smirk. He dug into his bag again, producing a pair of well-worn sweats. "Here you go, sweetheart."
"Just because your shirt fits, doesn't mean your pants will."
He looked you up and down slowly. "Oh they'll fit, they'll just be a little long."
Sam looked back and forth between the two of you for a few moments. "Am I missing something here?"
"Nope," you both answered.
"Okaaaay..."
You leaned down to start pulling the sweatpants on and as you tugged them up your thighs, you realized Dean was once again correct. The damn things were gonna be loose.
You stood up slowly and pulled them up the rest of the way, tugging on the string to tighten them enough so they wouldn't sag. You looked down at your feet and chuckled at the fabric pooling around your feet.
"Need some help?" Dean asked lightly.
"Could you maybe roll up the bottoms? I don't wanna fall on my face."
He grinned. "It would be my pleasure."
He dropped to his knees in front of you, earning a gasp of surprise from you. He slowly rolled up one pant leg, looked up at you with a little smirk, then rolled up the second pant leg. He looked back up at you with the same expression on his face. "Better?"
You didn't trust your voice, so you simply nodded.
He pulled himself up, suddenly towering over you again. Your knees felt weak--and it had nothing to do with your injuries.
"Uhhh...dinner is getting cold..." Sam muttered awkwardly.
"Mhmm," Dean hummed, gaze still fixed on your face.
"We should probably eat," you whispered.
Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, wetting his lips. His gaze was almost hungry as he regarded you, a soft smirk gracing his handsome face. "I am quite hungry," he murmured. "Very, very hungry."
You felt your pulse quicken and your lips parted slightly. The way he was looking at you made you think he wasn't referring to a hunger for burgers or pie...but you knew that couldn't be possible. Dean Winchester didn't want you--not like that.
You took control of the situation, stepping around Dean to limp towards the table. Dean quickly slipped an arm around your waist to help you.
"I'm alright, Dean."
"I'm not letting you fall and worsen your injuries."
You smiled up at him as he guided you to a chair and gently lowered you into it. He sat down in the chair beside yours and grabbed a burger for each of you out of the bag.
Sam had already eaten his dinner, so he was just watching the interactions between you and Dean. It was obvious he was confused, and to be honest, so were you.
Last time you'd talked to Dean, he'd apologized for being a massive asshole, but this transition was completely unexpected. You didn't know how to address it, or frankly, how to feel about it.
Instead, you decided to ask a question that had been tickling the back of your mind. "So...how did you guys find me?"
"Oh, that was all Dean," Sam admitted.
"Well you're the one who identified this case," Dean said with a shrug.
"Yeah, but you figured out where the monster was taking its victims--and then we saw your car."
"When we got inside the warehouse, I heard you yell in pain and I just--well, I just took off," Dean said.
You looked at both of them with a warm expression. "Well, thanks for saving me."
"You already thanked me," Dean said softly. "Besides, we both owed you our lives."
"He's not wrong," Sam added.
"Well, I'm thankful either way."
"You're welcome, (Y/N/N)," Dean said with a warm smile.
Sam gave his brother a weird look before looking back at you. "You're welcome."
The three of you continued to eat your dinner in relative silence, Sam or Dean occasionally chatting with each other while you looked on.
You watched Dean quietly, really taking him in for the first time. He was so incredibly beautiful--almost painfully so. His eyes were so kind, so much kinder than they'd been when you'd met. More importantly, he seemed lighter--more whole, than before.
You felt a stirring in your chest as you gazed at him, hating yourself for it. You shouldn't have any feelings for him--you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself in that position and you certainly didn't want to be another notch on Dean Winchester's bedpost.
"You alright, sweetheart?" Dean asked softly, shaking you from your thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"You were staring at the side of my head," he said lightly.
"Oh, sorry. I completely zoned out."
"Don't worry about it. You're allowed."
The smile you gave him quickly turned into a yawn. "I suddenly got really tired. I think I'll go back to my room to sleep."
Dean practically jumped out of his chair. "I'll take you."
You gave him an odd look. "I think I can manage to limp my way three doors down."
"Well, I'd feel better if I went with you."
Your expression softened. "Alright, alright. Lemme get my shoes on."
Dean grabbed your boots and sat them in front of you, but when you bent down to get them on, you gasped as pain radiated from your bruised ribs.
"Here, let me help," Dean said gently.
You gladly accepted his help, allowing him to get your boots on both feet. He helped you out of your chair and Sam stood up as well. He hugged you gently, which you returned in kind.
"I'm glad you're okay," Sam whispered into your hair.
"Thanks, Sammy," you murmured.
He stepped back and gave his brother a look you couldn't decipher. "I'm gonna shower and then hit the hay."
"Sounds good. I'll be back in a bit," Dean said before taking your hand and helping you towards the door.
Once you were outside, Dean was instantly more protective of you. Either he was worried about you falling on the hard cement or something attacking you. Whichever one it was, his protectiveness warmed your heart.
"Want me to carry you again?" Dean teased lightly.
You smacked his arm affectionately. "I can walk on my own, Winchester. Slowly..."
He grinned. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."
"So about that...since when do you call me sweetheart?"
"Since today, I guess," Dean muttered.
"A pet name and a nickname in the same day...interesting."
"Interesting good or interesting bad?"
You looked up at him. "I haven't decided yet."
"Fair enough."
"This is it," you said as you stopped in front of your motel room. "Thanks for walking me over."
Dean gave you an odd look. "I'm not leaving you at the door, (Y/N)."
You chuckled. "I didn't wanna assume."
You unlocked the door and Dean helped you in. "Lemme check the room, okay?"
You watched Dean walk around the room, checking the closet and the bathroom for anything that might want to hurt you. Finding nothing, he came back into the room, much more relaxed than before.
"So no monsters in the closet?" you teased.
He smiled. "You're safe."
"I already felt safe," you said softly.
"Oh?"
You blushed and looked at the floor, a little embarrassed that those words had left your lips.
Dean crossed the space between you and slid a hand under your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. "Are you saying I make you feel safe?"
His voice was soft and affectionate--it put you at ease. "Yes," you whispered honestly.
Dean smiled warmly. "That's the best thing you could ever say to me."
"Easy to please, I see," you joked lightly, trying to keep your cool.
"Not usually, but you seem to be an exception to the rule."
The way he was looking at you sent a warm feeling through your body and you felt heat pooling in your lower belly. His hand was still on your chin, but you wanted to feel it everywhere.
His thumb began to gently brush against your skin, hand sliding up to your cheek. You leaned into it and your eyelids fluttered closed for a moment. You felt dean's thumb brush gently against your lower lip and you inhaled sharply, eyes opening to meet his fiery gaze.
"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.
You desperately wanted to say yes, everything in you was screaming to say yes...but you couldn't. You needed to know what his intentions were.
"What do you want from me?" you whispered.
He looked taken aback. "I thought that was obvious."
You took a step back and his hand dropped from your face. "I know your reputation...I don't wanna be just another one night stand or some story you tell the boys around the campfire."
He looked hurt--almost as if you'd slapped him. But he seemed to realize you were right...he did have a reputation. "I know it's hard to trust me...I haven't been good to you in the past, but this isn't some one night stand, pity sex thing. I want you. I want this."
"This?" you whispered.
"You're so damn strong, (Y/N). You're smart and funny, you're an amazing hunter and an even better woman. You're brave and selfless and so incredibly loyal. I'm sorry I didn't see it when we first met, but I see it now. I can see what Sam saw in you when we first met. I've spent the last 8 months thinking about you constantly. I want something real with you, (Y/N). It scares the hell out of me, but I need you in my life...if you'll have me."
You listened to his words and you heard the emotion in them. You could feel how much he cared about you--how deeply he meant what he was saying. "I never thought you'd want someone like me."
He looked confused. "Do you mean perfect? Because that's what you are to me."
You gasped softly. "What?"
"You're not a perfect person--none of us are, but you're perfect for me."
"Have you lost your mind? Any recent head injuries?"
Dean laughed lightly. "Nothing like that, baby. I want this--it's real for me."
"Why me?" you said so softly he almost didn't hear you.
"I think I just explained that, sweetheart," he said gently.
You gestured to your body as you said, "But I look like this--and you...you look like that."
He narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you dare talk badly about your body, baby. Don't you dare."
Tears stung your eyes and you sniffled softly.
"Look at me sweetness," he said softly, taking your face in his hands. "I know I said some terrible things when we first met--some of them about your body. I said it because I knew it would hurt you--I could tell you had some insecurities and I played on them. I feel terrible for it--fucking awful. But I didn't really mean it, baby. I just wanted to hurt you. Please forgive me--please believe me."
The tears streamed down your face and he gently wiped them away.
"It's okay, beautiful. Talk to me."
You sniffed softly. "I forgive you, Dean...and I believe you."
He smiled warmly as he continued to wipe your tears. He stepped a little closer and placed soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips.
You leaned into the kiss, returning the affection in kind. When his lips left yours, he brushed the last tears from your face. "You wanna go to bed now, sweetheart?" he asked softly.
You smiled and shook your head. "I wanna get in bed, but I'm not feeling as tired now."
Dean smirked and his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as gently as he could. "Oh really? And what would you like to do in bed?"
"I have a feeling you have some ideas."
"Oh baby, I have a lot of ideas...but you've been through a lot today. I don't wanna hurt you."
"I guess you'll just have to be really gentle," you whispered against his lips.
He groaned softly. "I can be gentle...I can be so fucking gentle."
You giggled softly and he smiled, pressing his lips against yours.
"I wanna manhandle the shit outta you just to prove to you that I can...but that'll have to wait until you've healed. For now, I want you to do exactly what I tell you to--and stop me if it hurts too much, okay?"
You nodded.
"Baby, I'm gonna need you to use those words."
"Yes, Dean," you murmured.
He pressed his body up against yours again and you could feel his erection against your abdomen. "You know, I just thought of something..."
"What's that?"
"I think that's the second time you've ever called me by my name."
"What? No--can't be."
"The first time was when you forgave me and then you just said it now...but you usually just call me 'Winchester'."
You thought about it for a moment and realized he was right. "I kinda like saying your name...Dean."
He groaned softly. "I fucking love it, baby. I'm gonna make you scream my name, pretty girl."
"We'll see," you teased.
"Is that a challenge?"
You grinned. "One hundred percent."
"Oh you are in for it now, gorgeous."
You laughed as he pressed his lips against yours before trailing kisses down your neck. He nipped at your pulse point and you moaned softly, earning a grunt of approval from Dean.
"Now remember," he murmured against your skin. "You promised to do what I tell you to, but if you wanna stop, just tell me, okay? I won't do anything you don't wanna do."
You sighed softly. "I trust you, Dean."
"Good," he whispered. "Now take off your clothes."
You gasped in surprise, but quickly started to unbutton your shirt. When it came time to take it off completely, you froze, the familiar discomfort sinking into your mind.
"Hey," he said gently. "Take off whatever you're comfortable with, sweetheart, but I want you to remember that I think you're sexy as hell, okay?"
You nodded and took a deep breath before sliding your shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes roamed your torso appreciatively.
"Can I take off your bra?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
He unhooked your bra with one hand, and gently pulled it forward, exposing your ample breasts to his hungry eyes. "Fuck..." he whispered.
You felt the strong urge to cover up, but you kept your arms at your sides, allowing Dean to take in every inch of skin he could see.
"You're so fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)."
You whimpered softly as his lips latched onto your nipple, one hand at the small of your back to hold you up and the other massaging your breast gently.
Your hands tentatively rested on Dean's shoulders, and you could feel the taunt muscles shift beneath his shirt. You desperately wanted to feel his skin against yours, so you curled your fingers into his shirt and tugged on it gently.
He released your nipple and looked up at you. "What is it, baby? What do you need?"
You bit your lip and shifted slightly. "I wanna feel your skin."
He chuckled softly. "Like this?" he asked as he ran his hands slowly down your sides.
You shook your head and reached for the hem of his shirt. As soon as your hand managed to touch it, he understood what you were asking. He stepped back and yanked his shirt off over his head.
As much as you wanted to feel his body against yours, you stopped him when he leaned back towards you. He looked a little saddened, misunderstanding your movement.
"I'm trying to appreciate perfection," you said softly.
He smiled and puffed out his chest slightly. "You're the perfect one, baby."
You looked up at him with a smile. "Take me to bed, Mr. Winchester."
He chuckled. "Yes ma'am."
He guided you over to the bed and he sat down on the edge, pulling you down with him. You straddled his lap and ground yourself down against his very prominent bulge.
You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the soft sounds you made. He grabbed ahold of your hips, careful to avoid the wounds on your left one.
"I think you should lose the pants, baby--underwear too."
You pulled yourself off of him, stepping back to slowly peel off your pants and underwear. Your hands were shaking slightly, nervous about being completely naked in front of him. When you stood back up, you found Dean's gaze glued to your body, eyes tracing every inch of you he could see.
He reached out to touch you, but you took a step back, making him look up at you in surprise.
You smirked slightly, feeling emboldened by the obvious desire in his eyes.
"Baby..." he said softly. "Come here."
You shook your head. "Not until you're naked too."
He raised an eyebrow at you, but a small smirk danced across his lips. He liked your commanding voice--he was almost surprised by how much it turned him on.
He stood up, eyes never leaving your face. He slowly took off his jeans, stepping forward to get out of them. He hooked his fingers into his boxers and lowered them slowly, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.
You inhaled sharply as you took in his size--much larger than you were accustomed to. Your eyes flicked back up to his and his smirk had widened slightly.
"Like what you see, pretty girl?"
"Very much, but I'm a little...concerned."
"About what?"
You looked down at his cock and back up at his face. "You're a little...large."
He laughed softly. "I'll be gentle."
"I'm more concerned about it not fitting."
He grinned. "That should not make me feel so good," he chuckled. "It'll fit, sweetheart. You'll see."
"I trust you."
He smiled and took a step towards you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer. He kissed you softly, hands roaming your skin, loving the feeling of your softness. "Fuck, baby--I wanna taste you. I need to."
You gasped softly as two of his fingers gently swiped between your pussy lips, collecting some of your slick. He brought the fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, a soft moan slipping from his lips.
"You taste delicious, sweetness. I want more."
He pulled you down onto the bed with him, tugging your body on top of him. You kissed him passionately, as you ground your hips against his cock.
He groaned into your mouth and his hands traveled up your back, massaging soft circles into your skin.
"Come up here, baby," he begged.
You pulled back, staring at him in confusion. "I don't understand."
He gently caressed your thighs. "I wanna taste you--come sit on my face."
"Do you have a death wish?"
He looked surprised. "What?"
"I'll smother you, Dean."
He rolled his eyes. "Then I'll die an extremely happy man. Suffocate me between those thick, sexy thighs, baby."
Your eyes widened, but you were more than a little intrigued by the concept. You'd never been asked to sit on anyone's face before and you'd certainly never suggested it. You had to admit, you'd always wanted to try it.
"Are you sure?"
"Fuck yeah, babe."
"Okay," you agreed softly.
Dean gently guided you towards his face, helping you straddle his head. His left hand gripped your right hip and he laid his right hand on your left thigh.
"Put my hand above your cuts so I can hold onto you," he requested softly.
You took his right hand and placed it just above the deep gashes on your left hip.
"Good girl," Dean praised. "Now have a seat and let me feast on you."
You lowered yourself onto his mouth, but didn't quite sit down. Instead of admonishing you, Dean dug his fingers into your flesh and tugged you down firmly.
You cried out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as his tongue slipped through your folds. Dean groaned loudly as he began to devour you.
You had never in your life felt pleasure like Dean was giving you in this moment. The sounds that his ministrations pulled from your lips were absolutely sinful. Your legs had already begun to shake and you were gripping the headboard like your life depended on it.
"Dean, I'm so close," you gasped.
He moaned into your core and his fingers dug further into your flesh, blunt nails scraping against your skin. He didn't stop his actions--the desire to feel you cum outweighing his need to breathe.
Within moments, you cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs squeezing his head tightly. Dean continued working you through your orgasm until you started to squirm away from him. He finally let you go and you leaned back onto his chest as you tried to catch your breath.
Dean moved you as gently as he could, shifting you to straddle his hips as he pulled himself into a sitting position, feet planted firmly on the floor beside the bed. He pulled you against his chest and brushed his fingers through your hair.
"You okay, baby?" he asked softly, lips pressed to your forehead.
"More than okay," you mumbled into his chest.
He chuckled softly as he held you against him, loving the feeling of your softness beneath his fingers.
After a few more moments, you sat up and bit your lip. "Dean?"
He smiled at you. "Hmm?"
"I want you to fuck me."
His eyes widened slightly and he shifted his hips under you, brushing his cock against your core. "I'm happy to oblige," he teased softly.
You sighed as he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into the kiss and his hands slid down your body, lifting you slightly so he could line himself up with your entrance.
"Are you sure you wanna do it in this position?" you asked quietly.
"It's the only position where I can pleasure you, hold you close, and avoid hurting you. So yeah, baby, I'm sure."
You looked into his beautiful green eyes and smiled warmly. You could feel how much he cared about you and it warmed your soul.
"You ready?" he whispered.
"I'm ready."
He held his cock firmly, letting you take the lead as you slowly lowered yourself down onto him. By the time you'd lowered yourself completely, you were both breathless.
The stretch was incredible--unlike anything you'd ever experienced. You swore you could feel him in your lower belly--you'd never felt so full.
Dean leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he let you adjust to his size.
"You can move now," you whispered.
"Just one moment, sweetheart, I--I need a moment."
"Are you okay?"
He looked up at your pretty face and smiled. "I'm fucking phenomenal, babe...but your pussy feels so goddamn incredible, so tight and warm--I just need a second to control myself."
You blushed at his praise, warmth rushing through your body at his words. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then his jaw, before finding the sweet spot on his neck that made him moan.
His hands dug into your flesh as he started to roll his hips against yours. You gasped softly against his skin, pleasure washing over you.
"Hold onto me, sweetheart," Dean murmured softly.
You did as he asked, clinging tightly to his shoulders and tightening your thighs against his.
Dean wrapped his arms around you, careful not to hold you too tightly or touch your stitched wounds. He pressed his lips softly against your collarbone as he rolled his hips again.
He gave you less than a second to get comfortable before he began to thrust up into you in earnest. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, allowing him to piston up into you.
"Dean!" you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.
Each thrust was calculated and hard, making your body shiver with pleasure. He shifted slightly, pulling you more firmly into his chest, which changed the angle of his thrusts. The new angle allowed him to hit your g-spot with each thrust.
You moaned loudly and dug your nails more firmly into his shoulders and back.
"There it is," Dean murmured against your soft skin. "Feels so good, baby."
"Don't stop," you pleaded.
"I have no intention to."
His thrusts sped up to an almost shocking speed and your whole body vibrated with pleasure. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, but you couldn't voice it. The pleasure overwhelmed your mind--rendering you speechless.
"You close baby? I can feel you squeezing me."
In response, you nipped at his shoulder and moaned into his skin.
He chuckled lightly. "That's it, pretty girl. I want you to cum for me--wanna feel you cum all over my cock."
You whimpered softly, "Please."
"I've got you, baby. Let go for me."
Your legs had begun to shake and you cried out in pleasure as your orgasm slammed into you with surprising force. You called his name as he worked you through it, thrusts beginning to falter as he chased his own high.
"I'm close, baby," he whispered against your throat.
You used what strength you had left to clamp down onto his cock, squeezing him as tightly as you could.
"Oh--fuck," Dean gasped. He began to cum inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder to keep himself from crying out at the intensity of his orgasm.
You relaxed your body against him as his thrusts slowed to a stop, forehead resting against his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.
Dean's arms were still wrapped around you, holding you close to him as he came down from his high. He placed soft open mouthed kisses to your skin and whispered sweet nothings.
Dean began to shift his body as his member softened inside you. You whimpered softly, body too sensitive for any kind of movement.
"Sorry, sweetheart. You okay?"
You nodded. "I'm okay, just a little sore."
He grinned wolfishly. "That makes me feel good."
You laughed softly and smacked his arm affectionately. "It's a little bit of you and a little of that whole monster fight from earlier."
He made a pouty face, which only made you laugh more. The increased laughter hurt your sore ribs and you winced at the pain.
"Shit, sorry sweetheart."
"Not your fault."
He brushed your hair back from your face so he could look at you better. "You look so sexy right now, baby."
You blushed. "I look like I had the shit beat out of me."
"Nah, you look like you just got well and properly fucked," he teased.
You chuckled slightly. "It was quite nice, I must say."
He grinned. "Just you wait until you're all healed up--I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to walk straight for days."
You gasped. "Oh my."
He licked his lips and kissed you softly. "I could kiss you all night long."
"As much as I would love that, I think we should take a shower. I'm exhausted."
"Alright, pretty girl." Dean stood up, still holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist to avoid falling to the ground. "I've got you, (Y/N/N)."
You looked down at him. "I know."
He smiled and kissed you gently. "Shower, then bed."
"Yes, sir."
"Oo," he said happily. "I like that."
You grinned. "I'll keep that in mind for later."
Dean grinned back at you. "You're gonna be in for a wild ride, sweetness."
"Is that a promise?"
"Absolutely."
After your shower, Dean carried you back to your bed and laid you down gently. He crawled into the bed beside you and pulled you close so your head was resting on his chest.
He kissed the top of your head and ran his fingers up and down your arm. "I want you to come with us," he said suddenly.
"What?" you asked in surprise as you looked up at him.
"I want you to come hunt with Sam and I...permanently."
"Are you--are you sure?"
"I told you this was real for me, baby. I want to try this with you, and that means you should be with me. I mean--if you want."
You smiled at him and touched his cheek gently. "I would love to go with you."
He grinned happily and kissed you sweetly. "Excellent. I'm sure Sam won't mind."
"As long as we get our own room, I'm sure he won't," you teased.
He laughed. "Oh yeah, we're gonna need that."
You smiled and kissed his chest softly. You yawned and curled further into him, exhaustion finally weighing you down.
"Go to sleep baby. I'll be right here when you wake up," Dean whispered.
You fell fast asleep in Dean's arms and he watched you for a while before sleep finally came to him. He hadn't felt so full and happy in a long time and it was one hundred percent because of you. He felt honored you were willing to give a relationship with him a chance, despite everything that had happened between the two of you in the past. He was determined to do everything he could to make sure you never regretted that decision.
Buy Me a Coffee 💜
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uzurimisery · 5 months
Text
chapter 4: the bluff. / coriolanus snow / nsfw
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Rating: Explicit
WC: 6746
Warnings: MDNI, rough sex, he's still insane and possessive, PIV, unprotected sex (this guy is never wearing a condom ever), angry sex, he's not a good guy but he's hot, not beta read
AO3 version | Series master
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You slammed the dressing room door shut. “What the hell was that , Coriolanus?” pacing the length of the room, anger seeping out of you. “Did you forget what we were supposed to do? We were supposed to play it off, say we were too young. That was not playing it off! That was proposing!”
In your rage, you stumbled in your heels. He watched you curse under your breath, undoing the strap on them and throwing them across the room. Coriolanus didn’t move, cemented in his spot just past the door.
“Listen to me Y/N,” his tone was stern, like a parent scolding a child. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Of course you did!” you interrupted your voice tinged with sarcasm. “You always do whatever you want, don’t you? Here, the gala, the dinner. Always regardless of the consequences!”
Your words were sharp, digging in the fact that whatever was going on between you two there was meant to be a unified front, a single storyline. You were meant to be partners in the power play, both of you using each other to further your positions. All the work that went into constructing the next five years of the act was undone in an instant.
“I thought we were on the same page, Coriolanus. There was a plan for what we were going to do, but you just fucked it up!” He was always hypercritical of himself, internal monologue pointing out his every mistake, but you doing the same set him off.
“Can you shut up for five seconds! Or are you so self-obsessed that you can't let anyone else get a word in.”
“How dare you try and talk to me about being self-obsessed you narcissistic, unthoughtful-”
“There you go! Proving my point. You can’t even get off your high horse for a minute so I can explain why I did that.”
“You want to explain? Fine then, explain.” you spat.
Coriolanus’ jaw clenched. You were so hot and cold with him. He could never gauge what you really wanted in all of this, and you would never just tell him either.
“I saw an opportunity.”
“For what?”
“To play the part, to make the story so much better. Picture it, Coriolanus Snow, a man who has always been so organised and timely there are articles on how to put your life together like him, rushing into something. He’s so in love with his mentor’s daughter that he proposes to her on stage in front of all of Panem, and he doesn’t even have a ring on him because at that moment he realises that he can’t live without her.”
Your eyebrows were drawn, scanning over his face like you were looking for a fault in what he said, as you dissected it. There was nothing wrong with it though. The show was exactly how he described it. It painted him as a kind and caring man, beyond his known abilities at game making.
“You should have told me ahead of time.”
“I didn’t have a chance. I thought of it while getting ready.” he was lying, and you could tell. Seeing through lies was your speciality. He hadn’t thought about it while getting ready.
You called him on his bluff. “Bullshit. You didn’t have any plan, that was all impulse.” you were digging your finger into his chest to make your point. “You could have ruined everything we’ve been working on, made the past year pointless. What if I hadn’t followed along? What if I lost my composure for your little outburst? It’s not just your future on the line here Coriolanus. I’m leaving.”
Your shoulder bumped into his as you moved to walk out of the room, but his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you back and lifting you off the ground.
“Y/N,” he started.
“Let me go!”
“You don’t get to walk away from me. You need to listen to me.”
“I’m done listening to you, put me down!”
“Well, I’m not done talking!” Coriolanus pushed your back against the wall, pinning you in place.
Why couldn’t you just listen to him like you normally did? Why were you so upset with him? What he did was off-script but it still looked good, and it still achieved your shared goals. You didn’t get to walk away from him when he was right.
You slapped him, still able to move your arms. “I told you to let me go.” He tasted blood in his mouth. When he smiled at you, you felt your blood run cold.
“Are you done?” His teeth had traces of blood on them.
You weren’t about to be intimidated by him. You didn’t cower or beg anyone, and that included Coriolanus Snow. “Let. Me. Go.” your demands fell on deaf ears.
His smile only widened, eyes glistening with a sinister light. You thought he’d be furious with you, and hated that you were out of control, but it seemed more like he enjoyed it. That he liked it when you fought back.
“I told you Y/N, I’m not done talking.”
You moved to slap him again but were met with your wrists being grabbed and pinned above your head, utterly defenceless for whatever happened next. The expectation for him to strike you back weighing in the air. But he didn’t. Instead, his lips met yours, forcing your mouth open and letting his tongue in. You tried to fight back but he bit down on your lip and stopped you. His tongue only became more insistent. Copper on both your tongues.
You didn’t hate it. You were still mad at him, obviously, but the sexual tension that always between the two of you beckoned, its tendrils wrapping around you. Who said some angry sex wasn’t the solution to your being mad at him?
Your teeth clacked against each other as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his midsection. Coriolanus’ free hand moved to support you. Standing like this he was able to grind his hips against yours, the friction delicious. The kiss was messy, both of you trying to prove something to the other with it.
When you pulled apart for air you spoke. “Let me go.” His breath was laboured, just as yours was, the rough makeout session leaving the both of you breathless.
“Not a chance, sweet girl.”
His grip on your wrists loosened, letting you slip free to pull at his hair, connecting your mouths once again. Your moans mixed with his own, body rolling to press your clothed pussy over his erection. Even though he had picked you up a multitude of times, it was always surprising how strong he actually was. His slim build did not give away how strong he actually was.
Everything between you was primal, driven by lust and anger.
Coriolanus brought you over to the couch, dropping you on your back. He liked you best like this, on your back and needy. Your high horse forgotten, and the only thing you rode him. The both of you took care to remove your clothes carefully, neither wanting to deal with a lecture from Tigris as well as knowing you had a dinner to attend in them after this. But that was where the caution ended.
The moment you were naked he had his fingers stretching you open with his thumb toying at your clit. His mouth was all over your skin, biting your breasts, adding to the marks already covering you. He was so rough with you and made you feel so small. But god did he know exactly what to do to you.
Your moans were sharp as he brought you to an orgasm. Everything you did drove him up a wall. Every time he thought he could move past it, ignoring the feeling, your pussy sucked him back in. It was your fault he made a mistake, that he lost his composure, that he went off script. He wanted access to your warmth whenever he wanted.
No matter how much he consumed you, he was still hungry, the type of hunger he hadn’t felt since the war. The one with claws that tore at his insides, teeth grinding into his bones. A bottomless pit that could never be filled. It clouded his mind with thoughts of you, your breasts and hips, the pout of your lips. He could almost always feel the sensation of you against him, biting into your soft flesh. It made him emotionally volatile, willing to risk everything for just a crumb. But every time he got a bite it filled him with dread.
Your perfume, boozy and peachy, a reminder that the only thing that would ever fill this hole was you. That when he was on the brink of death, starving and empty, it was you who would nourish him. Your being the very source of all his problems and all his solutions at the same time. A double-edged sword driving into his heart with every step he took towards you.
“See? Look how good you have it when you just behave.” you weren’t out of it yet, still able to spite back in vitriol.
“Fuck you.”
“Already have.” Coriolanus flipped you on your front, positioning you on your knees with your chest pressed against the couch.
Like this, he got to spread you open, look at what your body could offer him. Why did you have to be you? Why did you have to rival his mind and have such a perfect body? It ruined everything.
His fingers pressed back into you. He could watch you drip down them for hours, whiny and whimpering from his actions. Begging him to fuck you. No matter how you tried to act like you weren’t. You were just like him. Hungry and waiting.
Coriolanus lined up his cock with your entrance. Instead of easing into you, he thrust in fully, jolting your body forward. He wanted it to hurt, to make you feel sorry for blowing up at him. To show you that no matter how you acted out he could fuck you back into place.
He fucked you hard and fast, pulling your head back by your hair. It forced you up and to put your hands on the back of the couch. Your back arched, your shoulders almost against his chest. His other hand pinched at your nipples and tugged at them. It hurt, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.
Moving his hand out of your hair, his fingers hooked into the side of your mouth. “Your mouth can be used for better things than being disrespectful.” your drool pooled around them, dribbling out the side of your mouth as you spoke.
“I’m gonna cum.” your speech altered from his fingers.
“I don’t care.” he did care, but he couldn’t let you know that, not right now. The biggest ego death to him would be if he was unable to make you cum. It fed his ego every time you clenched down around him, pussy fluttering from your orgasm. He didn’t slow down or let up, fully intent on taking his frustration out on you.
The air between you was hot and heavy, thick with the smell of sex. With his hands free, your waist became his new hold stone. Coriolanus didn’t even have to pull your hips to meet his, you were doing that for him, bucking backwards in time. Each trust had you panting little praises for him.
He wanted to see your face. You felt him pull out of you and then sit down on the couch next to you. “Ride me.”
You shifted, placing your knees on either side of him as you sunk down on his length. When you got to the base, you took a moment to recollect yourself, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Coriolanus’ lips found the crown of your head before he even recognised what he was doing. It was odd. This intimate act in the midst of all of this. He wanted to show you that he cared, that he wasn’t mad at you anymore. Why wasn’t he mad at you anymore? He was the type to let his anger fester, angry with infection. He waited until the moment was right and then he spread his sickness, cutting down whoever upset him. You were more useful than being cut down; however, he felt strongly towards you. The one thing he wouldn’t do is name those feelings.
The drag of your hips cut off his line of thought. He watched as you rode him, your thighs shaky but not letting it stop you. When you pulled your head out to kiss him he met you, enjoying the feeling of your lips against his. Hair and makeup would have a hay day with the two of you but the way you went all the way up, his tip the only thing inside you, to then your ass flush with his thighs made their annoyance worth it. Wanting to feel you cum around him again, his thumb began circling your clit, working you up to another orgasm.
“I’m close.”
“I know.”
Your hips slowed as you came, exhausted from riding him. But Coriolanus wasn’t done. His hand wrapped around your waist, moving you to an elevated position with his dick still inside you, and he began thrusting up into you. “Hold yourself just like that sweet girl.” You did as he told you, your head lulling to the front pressing your forehead against his. With a few final thrusts, he came inside you. You were winded, your eyes closed as he guided your bodies apart and grabbed a disposal west wipe to clean the both of you up. Finally, with that done, he could lay down and settle you on top of him, both of you naked and sweaty.
Neither of you spoke for a while, just listening to each other breathe, your head on his chest.
“I’m sorry.” apologises always felt like he was trying to speak a foreign language, his tongue struggling to make the sounds. “I shouldn’t have acted impulsively.”
“I'm sorry too. I shouldn’t have blown up on you.” his fingers traced your hairline as you lay on top of him, still reeling from the sex. “I just don’t like when things don’t go to plan, and they’ve not been going to plan between us.”
He couldn’t argue against that. Everything was so fuzzy between you. He didn’t know what you were feeling, but his feelings were you weren’t something he could ignore. When he said that he couldn’t picture his life without you it was true. He thought that speaking it out to the world would alleviate the pressure, and make it something he could keep inside himself, but he didn’t. He needed you to know that it meant it.
“Would it be so bad, marrying me?”
You picked your head up. “No,” you sighed. “It wouldn’t be.” He watched you find your original position, ear over his heart.
“We could be allies.” his heart pounded as you traced patterns on his skin. “You’re the first person I’ve met I’d consider that with. I could make you the First Lady of Panem.”
Being the First Lady was an appealing idea. You’d be able to do so much more in that position. It was a core belief of yours that the games were only the first step in binding the loyalty of the country, to furthering the control over the populace. Aid programs needed to be doled out in the Districts. People who were content were less likely to look behind the curtain and see what was really happening.
“What happens when you fall in love with someone? Would we divorce and I’d lose everything, both the games and my position?” there was uncertainty in your voice.
There could never be someone after you. You were it for him. Sure he could find a docile wife and marry her, leave her be and just have kids with her. But she could never truly know him. But you could, and you were learning the true him. And you wouldn’t make him separate his work and home life, you’d dive into it with him, lethal and cunning.
“That won’t happen,” he was blunt with his statement. “You’re the only one I could do this with.”
It felt like the weight was finally lifting off him some. The pressure that had been building and threatening to blow, to whistle like a kettle. As much as he had intended for your relationship to be a temporary political alliance, he wanted it to be permanent. He didn’t trust people, but he was growing to trust you, knowing that your goals were ultimately the same.
“But what if it does?” He had never seen you so worried about his feelings, genuine concern. “Or what if I fall in love with someone else?”
“Y/N,” his thumb brushed your lips, making you face him again. “I promise you that is never going to happen. Okay?”
“Okay.”
With a final look of determination, kissed you, his lips bruising against your own. He was hoping that it conveyed that he meant it with all his heart. He was never going to fall in love with someone else, the home you made in his heart was always going to be yours. The decor exactly how you left it if you ever walked away, waiting for you to come back. You’d never get the chance to walk away but that was the sentiment, that he could forgive you for leaving him if he took you back and you stayed with him. A dove with a broken wing was still a dove. It might not be able to soar in the slides, free from the gravity of the world, but it was still a dove. Even if he broke you and locked you up, you’d still be you.
He could never love another, not when he loved you. Coriolanus loved you. The realisation shook him, a tempestuous collision of the man he was and the man he wanted to be. The crack formed by Lucy Gray was broken open once again by you. He had convinced himself that love was a weakness, that it was something to be exploited. Over the past year of getting to know you, getting to be with you, you had challenged his core beliefs, forcing him to confront the fact that he loved you.
It was hard admitting it to himself. Just hours earlier he had told Tigris off for even suggesting the idea of it, vehemently denying it. He didn’t want to love you then, terrified at the idea of you finding out and leaving. But you had said it wouldn’t be so bad to be married to him, that you’d be willing to be allies for the rest of your life. The truth was there though, written into every interaction he had with you. The glaring reality that he could no longer ignore, lingered in his eyes like a burned-in image.
It was terrifying, the exact opposite of the control he wanted to have over those around him, to have you control his heart. The practised emotional detachment he had led his life with failed in his darkest hour. The fear that you’d be just like Lucy Gray and run. It didn’t matter that you both worked on the games, that he had seen you develop new ways to punish the Capitol’s enemies, that you had just as much darkness within you as he did. That you were as ruthless as he was. The betrayal he had once experienced at the hands of a District dog had him petrified of it happening again.
Could he erase your existence like he did hers if something happened? The thought was both horrifying and tempting. He didn’t want it to come to that, to erase you, to discard you like a broken toy. You were better than Lucy Gray, you wouldn’t betray him. He wouldn’t let you. But he couldn’t come to you with this, not yet. Coriolanus Snow needed you to break down and beg him to tell him that he loved you. When he could see you, lost in your feelings for him, then he could tell you. Not before, not after. But at the moment when you are in desperate need of him, he could tell you. Only then could he believe that you loved him too.
______________________________________
Things have been busy since then and luckily you have been able to avoid conversation with your mother too. Coriolanus and you had no time to talk about your game plan and what would've happened next as the games started. Every day you were at the Citadel, ensuring things ran smoothly. He was there too, doing his own work, but the amount you had to do kept you from each other. It wasn’t until after the games ended that the two of you got a moment alone. Of course, you had been to several events together but you couldn't talk about things there. So when the last person left the production room, you were finally alone with him.
“Did you mean what you said that night on the balcony, that it was hard pretending that you loved me?”
The two of you were in his private lab. You were sitting on the edge of his desk instead of a chair, something he noticed you liked to do. After the cameras had been turned off you had taken your hair down from the pinned updo made of a braid, letting the braid hang loose.  The heels you were wearing off your feet and lost in the room. Coriolianus’ head was in your lap as your fingers brushed through his hair. The slight stubble he’d grown over the last two days catching on your tights.
His voice was muffled by your thigh. “No.”
“No you didn't mean it or no it isn’t hard pretending that you love me?” Your fingers were putting him to sleep. It had been so long since he had been touched like this. He only had one strong memory of his mother. They had been sitting before the fire, her belly full with his younger sister, her finger running through his, much like your own, singing a song he couldn’t remember now, the melody lost with time.
“No,” he finally replied, groggy. “It’s not hard pretending that I love you”
There was a flicker of hope within you when he first confessed to you that night on the balcony. You had convinced yourself that he was being vulnerable with you then, letting you in. Was this him adding kindling to that fire or dousing it?
“Is it easy then?” Each word was laced with intrigue and tinged with trepidation. The question wormed itself into the conversation, hanging in the air like the hum of the machinery. He tensed under you like he had been unprepared for this conversation, a betrayal of how he normally was.
Coriolanus’ response was slow, deliberate and weighted, with every individual syllable chosen carefully. “No, it’s not easy either.” The threading of your fingers felt so good against his scalp, it was criminal. “It’s neither easy nor hard, it’s necessary.” He shrugged with that statement, drowsy from the long day and your actions.
It was strange seeing him like this, his head in your lap as he was half asleep. The Coriolanus you knew was a man of fronts, never betraying his persona of unwavering composure and unyielding strength. He was smart and capable, bringing the Snow family back from the brink of destruction. But now there was no front present. He was relaxed and open, the tension in his shoulders finally released as he rested on your thighs. You could see every pore of skin, every hair out of place. There was a faint scar above his lip, so blended with his skin that you had never seen it before. It had access to the same medical and cosmetic treatments as you did meaning that he had left this one there on purpose. A reminder of something that had happened to him.
You chewed on his words as you watched him. It was neither easy nor hard pretending that he loved you, it was necessary. It was a non-answer, a refusal to tell you his feelings on the matter, that itself a revealing statement. He was used to his words working on others, his honied lips spinning the sweetest lies. But you had watched him, seen him change over the years. Coriolanus was a man burdened with his own demons that sat at the table with him. There was an understanding in that. You had your own demons that sat in the corner of your room every night, watching you sleep and whispering dangerous things. Neither of you were innocent good-hearted people, both of you violent and deadly.
But his cracks were showing, and that night under the stars with too much to drink, he had let you see just how much they were cracking. You were willing to pick up the pieces and help him put them back together. Your own feelings were the same as his, you were just better at hiding it.
“My father wants us to have an engagement party.”
“When?”
“In two weeks at my family estate,” knowing your father, it was going to be a spectacle. He doted on you. “But he wants to have a private dinner before that, just your family and mine.” His only family was Grandma’am and Tigris. If you wanted to, you could count the Plinths as family, even though he hated the thought of having any relationship with them.
“That’s fine. I’m sure Grandma’am will be excited, she’s been pestering me about marrying you while she’s still alive to see it.”
“She wants you to marry me?”
He murmured some form of agreement, still out of it. “She says you make me smile like I haven’t since I was a boy. It’s annoying actually, she keeps demanding that I bring you around for lunch.” This was news. Your interactions with Grandma’am had always been under the pretence of public events, you never thought much of them, but apparently she had. More than that, she thought more of your effect on her grandson.
“You should be kinder to her, you don’t know how long she’s got left.”
Coriolanus’ head lifted from your lap, rubbing his eyes as he propped his head up on a hand. “I know,” it wasn’t nice to have to think about the fact his Grandma’am was up there in age, that she maybe had another 15 years left. If that. “I’ll tell her we’ll do lunch then.”
Your smile was irresistible. “Good. The least you can do for her is let her think that you’ve found someone you genuinely love, and who loves you just as much. She’ll never know that it's just an act either. It’ll let her rest easy knowing you’re taken care of.”
His heart sank, and his stomach dropped out and onto the ground.
“Yeah, it’s a good act too.”
______________________________________
Coriolanus paced in the foyer, stopping every so often his fingers fidgeting with the knot of his tie, loosening and tightening it. His outfit was simple and smart today. His father's button-up with a red tie, a grey pinstripe waistcoat and matching trousers. The black leather of his oxfords had been polished earlier in the morning. He felt antsy, just wanting to get this luncheon over with. He shouldn’t have told you that Grandma’am wanted this, he must have been out of his mind when he did.
“Coriolanus my boy,” Grandma’am had snuck up behind him, making him jump as she put her hands on his shoulders. “You look as handsome as always, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
His smile was weak in the mirror, not reaching his eyes. “Thank you Grandma’am.” She fiddled with the shoulder of his shirt, lining it up properly as it had been moved from his walking around.
“You must really love her if it’s got you like this.”
“I do.” The words were heavy. This was the first time he had acknowledged his feelings for you to another person. The vulnerability threatened to consume him.
“I’m glad,” her eyes became teary as she spoke. “Your mother loved your father so much. I remember their wedding day. She was so nervous, running around like a rabbit. You remind me of her sometimes.” she threw her hands up like the statement was outlandish. “But of course, you’re more like your father than anything else. Strong Coriolanus Snow.”
They rarely talked about his parents, or Tigris’ parents, like this. It was easier for them all to let the dead stay dead. A bittersweet ache spread through him.
“I’m glad.” He reached out and took Grandma's hand, offering her some comfort. Talking about her dead children always set her off. They stood in silence for a beat, hand in hand, each processing their own feelings before he shattered the quiet.
“It’s easier to let the dead stay dead.”
Grandma’am nodded, her handkerchief to her eye to clean up the tears she had spilt. “Sometimes,” she acknowledges, “the past is too painful to revisit. But it’s important to remember Coriolanus. To remember the love, the laughter, the life that was lived. To honour those who came before you.”
But he didn’t want to remember the past. The past made everything worse.
The ring of the elevator cut the conversation short. You were here, and he was nervous. This was no different than a public event, you both knew the parts to play, but it was so different at the same time. You were in his family home, eating with him and his Grandma’am, and doing it purely because you thought she deserved to think someone loved him. Doing it because you cared for her. It was here that his history echoed, ghosts of the past hanging on every wall. Remnants of the boy he once was tucked away in boxes, now dusty with age.
As the elevator doors opened, revealing you standing there, those boxes came out of storage and were placed on the table for you to sort through.
“Oh! Miss Gaul! Please come in.” Grandma’am rushed towards you, excited to have you over.
“Grandma’am,” you chided, pulling her into a hug. She had shrunk in her old age and your heels didn’t help the equation, making you bend down to do so. “I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Y/N. Plus soon enough I’ll Mrs. Snow.”
“I know, I know, I just forget sometimes. Perhaps I should just call you Mrs. Snow!”
“Now I think that’s a wonderful idea!” You took a second to greet Coriolanus with a kiss and then went back to chatting with Grandma’am taking her hands in your own.
You were so delicate with her, it pained him to watch you be so kind to her. You nodded along diligently to whatever she said and were actively engaging in the conversation. He could tell that you weren’t pretending to care and that you actually wanted to speak with his grandmother. She was so animated with you like years had been removed from her. He had spent so long trying to protect her from all that had happened, and all that he had done. His actions had severed parts of their relationship, and with Tigris not living in the apartment anymore, she must have grown lonely. But you brought her back, the vibrant woman who could connect with the world.
Coriolanus sidled up to you, arm wrapping around your waist. “I hate to interrupt your conversation ladies, but I do believe Y/N came here for lunch.” It felt so right to have you like this.
“Yes, yes, Coriolanus,” Grandma’am started, “I’ll go make sure the cook has prepared everything. Why don't you show Y/N into the dining room.”
“Of course, Grandma’am.”
Alone, he nipped at your ear, his breath making your heart skip a beat. His hands were warm, one placed on your stomach the the other on your arm. You could smell the mint on his breath when he uttered a whisper in your ear, his voice low and husky. “You look stunning today.”
You were wearing all black today, something that went against the average Capitol woman. It was a high neck mini dress, stopping a few inches above your knee. The sleeves were long, longer than your hands and instead of normal holes, the fabric was spliced up to your elbow. Your heels were lower than they normally were from press events, no doubt more comfortable. The splash of colour came from your earrings. They were red, with a velvety coating on them, and shaped like rose petals separated and hung on a chain. You had remembered Grandma’am’s love of roses.
“It’s not for you, you know.” you took every opportunity to tease him. “But thank you.”
You had no idea what you did to him. “If it were for me it’d be on the floor by now.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing this is for Grandma’am and not you.” You patted his cheek. “Now are you going to show me to the dining room Coriolanus?” When you said his name you mirrored the way his Grandma’am said it.
A crooked grin rose on his face with a small laugh. “With pleasure, my dear,” he replied biting your ear again before leading you through the grand hallways of the apartment. His hand never left your back until you were sat down. You were on Coriolanus’ right, with his chair being at the head of the table.
The table was smaller than the average dining room table in the Capitol, unsurprising given the number of Snow family members there were left. It looked to seat about 10 people maximum. It was a dark-stained wood, a style that was popular in the prewar days. The walls were a pale blue, covered in a patterned wallpaper. The signature tile flooring of the apartment was carried into the dining room, laid in a geometric style with the table in the centre. It was all a testament to the family’s long history and enduring presence in the Capitol, a microcosm of the Capitol itself.
“Have you told her about the dinner?”
“No I haven’t had a chance yet-”
“What dinner?” Grandma’am sauntered into the room, waiting for Coriolanus to pull out her seat so she could sit. “The cook prepared quite a  lunch today,” she listed out the menu after she sat down, Coriolanus returning to his own seat, arms resting on the table.
“That all sounds wonderful Grandma’am. Corio’s told me how wonderful your chef is.”
“Yes, I do agree. It took me ages to find one that I liked, so many of them are lacklustre these days.”
“Well I hope my family’s chef won't disappoint you then.” you grabbed his hand on the table. “My father wanted me to invite you to a family dinner on Friday evening. It’s just a small get-together to introduce everyone to each other properly. After all, we’ll be one family soon.
“Oh, that is a wonderful idea! I’ve always had such admiration for your father’s interior design work.” Grandma’am's voice faded out for Coriolanus as she spoke. Rambling about how your father had ‘brought back the elegance of the Capitol’ through his job. Coriolanus was focused on one thing.
You were wearing the ring. He had gone in between rings for what felt like a millennium till settling on a custom made. It was reminiscent of the one he remembered his mother wearing, covered in diamonds and made of gold. Your was made of platinum, far more durable than gold and less like the be damaged by your time in the labs and only plated in gold. The centre stone was large, 1.5 carats, an emerald cut diamond. The style of the ring was similar to an ornate mirror. There were 22 stones in total, each one glittering from the chandelier's light. He hadn't stopped with just the one ring either, he needed to decorate you in the finest jewels he could buy with the Plinth family fortune. That's why your index finger had a stack of thinner, geometric, stack complimenting the engagement ring.
It thrilled him. Wedding rings were no more than a shackle connecting you to him. A show of his authority over you. Marrying you wasn’t about companionship, it was to own you. To change your last name to his own and let everyone know that he would never leave you alone. Maybe he’d let you hyphenate your last name, and you’d like that, it went against the norm.
His thumb rubbed against his own engagement ring. His was simpler, he didn’t enjoy the over-the-top couture and showmanship of the Capitol, a think gold plated platinum band with a matching kite cut diamond flush set into it. The kite shape echoed by etchings around the placement. You had picked the ring out for him after seeing your own, saying that you wanted it to match with yours. It was ironic that you chose a kite shape. They flew high in the sky, a symbol of freedom and soaring ambition.
The luncheon was nice, you had to admit. You didn’t have a living grandmother and it was nice to talk with Grandma’am as you ate. She kept telling stories of Coriolanus’ youth, much to his chagrin. The stories, and how he treated her, were different than what you had expected. He was cold towards Tigris, but he had so much warmth towards Grandma’am. What had happened between the two that caused a rift? Grandma’am spoke as if the two had been thick as thieves growing up.
When the plates were cleared, you joined Grandma’am in the kitchen as she made coffee for the two of you, Coriolanus somewhere in the apartment answering a message on his communicuff. You had offered to do it but she insisted on doing it herself, telling you that the machine was too complicated for a guest to use. But you know exactly how to use it, but that was a secret.
When she sat across from you, both your mugs steaming, her eyes were sombre. “Can you be honest with a foolish old woman?”
“I don’t see any old women here, but I can be honest.” her chuckle was wethered and dry, telling of someone who had lived through too much.
“I know my Coriolanus is a difficult man,” she always insisted on using his full name. “He’s much like his father in that regard, and I would know having raised them both. But you’re good for him. When I see him with you it's like all the horrible things he had to live through are forgotten, and that he’s that smiling boy  running around the apartment with his mother chasing after him again.” Grandma’am’s voice broke as the spoke, teetering on the edge of crying.
You grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She loved him so much.
“I love him Grandma’am, I really do.” candour in every word you spoke. “With him, I feel like I can do anything, be anything. Sometimes I think it’s all too good to be true and that one day I’ll wake up and this was all a dream that I had. Every day I pinch myself to make sure it's still real.”
“Will you always?” 
“There’s no future in which I don’t love him. He’s my now and always. And even if one day we weren’t together anymore, I’d still love him and I’d still support him. Just like he’d do the same for me.”
As you spoke Grandma’am’s tears flowed freely, but they weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of gratitude. She saw in you that she didn’t have to worry anymore, that someone other than her would love him unconditionally. Be a sanctuary to his troubled heart.
“Thank you.” as the older woman bawled you got up to hug her, rubbing her back as she sobbed.
Coriolanus had heard the whole thing but he couldn’t tell if you had said it for her or it was a confession of your true feelings. You were always perfect at playing your part.
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taglist: @serrendiipty @namelesslosers @glitteryblizzardsalad
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jade-jini · 4 months
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HI been thinking abt g!p loser yunjin getting emotional during sex 😭 can i request a somno one where she comes home drunk late at night, looking for reader only to see her asleep on their bed! yunny getting hard at the sight and emotional as she remembers their argument, she couldn’t help herself but touch her gf, soft “sorry’s” and “don’t leave me” leaving her mouth as she fucks reader 😖
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TW: somno, angst, happy ending ig. Dubcon. Dacryphilia. Yunjin is insecure.
Can I give you g!p loser somno Yunjin? Yes. Is it from the same storyline as the previous posts? Hell no. That baby would never. That one is fluffy fluffy this is a completely different one ok? Ok 🤨. After clarifying that…😈
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“Hey, a*hic*nother one, please…” Yunjin said, raising her empty glass, her vision not good enough to catch where the bartender actually was. The guy sighed as he dried a washed glass with a towel.
“Listen kid, we’re already closed. Why don’t you go home already?”
“Home?” Yunjin asked unconsciously, the memories of that day hitting once again.
——————————Flashback—————————
You guys were supposed to get home together after a long day. Yunjin was gonna pick you up after your last class of the day, the orange sky and sunlight hitting against her own hair as she waited for you. She had a nice flower in hand, excited to give it to you. Softly placing it near her nose to smell it one more time, she made herself blushed thinking about your smile once she saw you. However, you were not alone. Her smile dropped right away as she left the flower fall somewhere.
There you were, standing with a friend she very well recognized. It was this one girl from the women soccer team of the university. Yunjin knew her name, everybody knew her name. But she never liked using it, making it clear she did not like this person at all.
“She seems to like you a lot…” she murmured after the first time she saw you talking to Yeji.
“I like her too, she’s a good friend, and she’s friends with Yeojin already so it’s cool” you explained, apparently not getting the message right away.
“Hmmmm, not what I meant but whatever..” she said as her pout got bigger, letting go of your hand and crossing her arms in front of her chest. That’s when you finally noticed.
“Huh Yunjin, are you jealous?” You asked, trying to stop a giggle.
“Maybe? I mean she’s athletic and popular, and you’re so pretty, baby. Who wouldn’t want you? I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you decide you want to give her or somebody else a chance…”
“Omg shut up, that could never happen. I love you. You, Yunjin.” You told her, taking her hand and kissing her cheek. You didn’t have eyes for nobody else but Yunjin, so you didn’t wanna hear none of that nonsense.
“Yeah but still…” she murmured, and you simply sighed and continued walking hand in hand, trying to be extra sweet and clingy to your girl to distract her from those thoughts.
You thought it was cute the first couple times, but then her attitude started becoming more serious every time. It wasn’t your cute girlfriend being a little jealous and protective. It was like a completely different person taking over your sweet girl. You guys have already had more arguments about this situation. They were never too bad.
Until today.
“Oh, hi baby!” You greeted your girlfriend once she met you guys, smiling at her like you did every time, with love and excitement like it was the first time you saw her.
“Hi, Yunjinie.” Yeji tried, as always, to be on the good side of the taller girl. Yunjin just looked at her, nodding at her and humming. She looked back at you.
“Ready to go? Maybe we can go get something to eat at your favorite restaurant before getting home.” She asked while smiling at you only, not wanting to acknowledge the other girl’s presence more than necessary.
“Oh nice! Wanna join us before going home, Yeji?” You asked your friend, knowing she lived very close to your building. Yunjin’s smile left again, rolling her eyes.
“Oh! Actually-”
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be today?” Yunjin murmured, a bored tone that she didn’t try to hide. In her mind, this was the least rude she could be towards Yeji.
“Huh Yunjin…” you warned her, a challenging tone growing in your throat and your eyes telling you weren’t gonna tolerate that.
“It’s ok, y/n.” Yeji said with an awkward laugh, trying to avoid yet another conflict. Unfortunately, she has been present before when your girlfriend showed clearly discomfort with her presence near you. “I can’t go anyways, Lia’s class must be almost done, and we have a date today so…” she commented, a slight blush appearing on the girl’s face. “Anyways, see you later.” The older girl said with a smile, waving her hand as she walked away quickly to go pick up her own girlfriend. You smiled and waved back at her, and once you turned back at Yunjin, her face was still showing she was upset. You shook your head, starting to walk. She followed you behind.
“What, you’re gonna leave me here now?” She asked as you didn’t give her a chance to walk beside you. You rolled your eyes.
“What the fuck, Yunjin?” You asked her as you slowed down a bit so she could catch up. “I’m tired of you being rude to every friend I have. First it was Chaeyoung and Yeojin and now-”
“Yeojin wouldn’t stop touching you! Am I supposed to be ok with that?!” She interrupted you, her voice getting a little louder and shaky.
“And now!” You interrupted her back, making her go quiet. “She barely looks me in the eye when you’re present ‘cause she knows you get easily jealous.” Yunjin scratched the back of her neck as she opened the car’s door for you. Once she got in the driver’s seat, she spoke again. Her voice changing to a sadder one.
“I’m just scared of losing you, y/n. You know that…” she said, as she started driving. You looked at her, examining her face. You could tell she was in distress about this. However, being insecure didn’t give her the right to treat your friends bad. You stayed quiet for a little while as she drove. Once you were walking to your apartment, you spoke again.
“I’ve told you Yeji has a girlfriend, yet you’re still treating her like this.” You heard her huff.
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“Excuse me?” You looked at her with a frown, clearly offended.
“If she had a girlfriend she wouldn’t be stuck to your side all the fucking time.” Yunjin said, her voice getting deeper than normal. She was very upset, but so were you.
“Because she’s my friend, Yunjin! Friends spend time together! Why can’t you understand the concept of that?” You told her in the same tone, seriously tired of the constant fighting about such an insignificant thing as you hanging out with your friends.
“I don’t spend all the time stuck to my friends.” she remarked once you opened the door.
“Even if you did, I wouldn’t be making these scenes because I actually trust you. Do you even trust me?”
“It has nothing to do with that-”
“Do you even trust me, Huh Yunjin?!” You asked her again in a louder tone. You were not gonna let her evade this question. Yunjin didn’t like your tone nor the accusations. So instead of processing what she actually felt, she acted impulsively.
“No! I don’t trust you nor your fucking flirty friends! I’m tired of all this!” She yelled, her breathing becoming irregular.
You went quiet, feeling your heart hurt. The girl you loved didn’t trust you. You’ve done everything in your power to show her she’s your one and only. That nobody else comes even close to her in your heart. Yet her insecurities were hurting you both.
“Then go.” You said after you swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes already getting watery.
“What…” she whispered, starting to panic as she felt her heart sink.
“Trust is the most important thing in a relationship, with honesty. If we don’t have that, we don’t have nothing.”
“Oh my god I am so sorry, y/n… I didn’t mean to say any of that.” She tried apologizing, the weight of her words hitting her. Hard. She fucked up.
“If you don’t even trust me, then why haven’t you left?” You asked her, feeling that even speaking was hard at the moment.
“I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. Please give me another chance, baby. Please.” Your girlfriend said, trying to hold your hands but you put them close to you avoiding this, such action breaking her heart a little more ‘cause you’ve never rejected her touch before.
“I’ve been patient and understanding but your jealousy just keeps getting worse. I need some time right now…”
“No! Please don’t.. please baby, don’t say that…” tears were threatening to come out already, her hands trembling at the idea of losing you.
“At least for tonight. I need to think about us, please go Yunjin.” You almost begged, voice getting softer due to the sadness taking over the anger now.
“y/n, please…”
“Just leave, Yunjin. I need some space today, please.” You said, not even looking at her. You couldn’t, because if you did you would ask her to stay and you actually needed some alone time to calm down. You heard her hesitate, but nevertheless her steps resonated in the now empty room.
————————End of flashback————————
“My home doesn’t want me at home…” Yunjin said as she began sobbing again. The bartender, weirded out, tried comforting her after calling a taxi for the young woman.
“Listen dude, I don’t know who hurt you, but you gotta go home. There’s a taxi outside ok? Just tell them where to go and I don’t know, get some makeup sex or something.”
“Makeup sex? Hmm..” the idea of it already causing an effect on her intoxicated mind. She quietly went home, with only the image of you in her thoughts, feeling her friend reacting to it.
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“y/n? Baby are you h*hic*ome?” Yunjin asked once she stepped foot on the living room of your apartment, clumsily looking for you. “I-I’m sorry baby… please I l*hic*love you. Let me show you I love you.”
When she didn’t get a response, she made her way to your shared room. Her messy hair in front of her eyes making it a little extra complicated for her to see where she was going, but she wasn’t that messed up yet. Once she got to the bedroom, she found you deep in your sleep, looking beautiful as ever. She always thought you looked cute when sleeping, but tonight when she noticed how you were using nothing but her big shirt, the blanket barely covering your naked legs, cute wasn’t the word she’d use to describe you.
“God you’re so sexy, so perfect… I could never lose you…” she said as she got closer to the bed, falling sat next to you. The new weight made you move a bit, but it didn’t wake you up. “Please w-wake up, darling. I need you…” she whispered as she fixed her member, that was already getting hard by the view in front of her. Her other hand traveled to your thigh, caressing the skin as she slowly made her way to your ass. With the shirt going up a bit, she could see that you really were using nothing but her shirt.
“You knew I was c*hic*oming, Hmm?” She hummed, getting rid of her jacket and unbuttoning her pants to get her hand inside them, touching herself on top of her boxers. Soft groans escaping Yunjin’s lips as she felt her member getting harder and harder. She couldn’t help but put your shirt a little higher, leaving kisses on your stomach. Her lips slowly going up until she was kissing your chest, going from one nipple to the other. She was straight up moaning against your chest as she slowly sucked on them. With her dick already out of her pants, she needed to have you. She needed to prove to you she loved you always. As she made her way between your legs, she slowly started stroking her cock, licking her own lips before starting to eat you out. Yunjin could feel you softly moving under her, but you were a heavy sleeper. “So good.. tastes so good, baby.” She said as she made out with your pussy in such a messy but sensual way. The little whimpers coming from her as she stimulated both of you, and the little groans you’d let out in your sleep, were the only sounds Yunjin’s ears could catch. “P-please don’t leave.. if you do.. You’d break my heart..” the taller girl said, kissing your thighs, the idea of you actually leaving being an option got her sad again. As her eyes got watery, she fixed herself better between your legs, her member against your now very wet cunt, making sure to get herself wet too so she doesn’t hurt you. More soft sounds were coming from you, similar to the ones you do when awake. Yunjin’s clouded mind was thinking that maybe, if your body was reacting to her like this even when asleep, then you didn’t really want to leave. “Oh fuck…” she moaned as she slowly entered you. “Please don’t leave, I’m gonna miss this pussy too much…”
She started thrusting inside you slowly, sighing as your tight pussy grabbed around her so good every single time. She loved how well your bodies understood each other, and the thought of it being like this even when you’re not awake got her dick twisting inside you. This didn’t stop her from being sad though, knowing that after your argument that day, you probably wouldn’t have accepted this so easily.
“Please…” Yunjin whispered, her voice breaking in between pleads, tears threatening to fall “please d-don’t leave me.. I can be better than them.. p-promise..” she sobbed, the warmth of your body bringing both comfort and sadness, scared the next morning you’d be gone.
“What.. what the.. fuck? Hmmm.. Jen?” You murmured as her rougher actions slowly started to wake you up “w-what are you-”
“Please l-let me do it, if you’re gonna leave..” she said in between sobs “let me have you one last t*hic*ime..”
“W-who said I- fuck~ was gonna leave, baby?” You asked her, confused in between moans. Your hands automatically hugged her shoulders as you felt her cock reaching those spots inside you only Yunjin could ever get to know.
“I r-ruined it.. but please don’t go. I’m s-sorry, y/n. I love you…” she said, her moves now a little softer and slower. However you weren’t angry at her, how could you when she felt so good deep inside you, and her tears making her look so cute and pathetic, turning you on so much for some reason. You didn’t care to understand it though, your mind also getting clouded by desire for her.
“So cute when you cry. Do you feel sorry, baby?” You asked her, grabbing her face. She nodded eagerly, tears running down her face. “Why.. why are you sorry, tell me.”
“Hmmgh y/n.. I’m sorry for b-being mean, and jealous…” she dragged her words, but you were able to make out what she was saying. “S-sorry for not asking for permission first…” her sobs became more intense, but so did her thrusts inside you and you weren’t sure if her tears were more sadness or pleasure, probably a mix of both. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry y/n.. Hmm please…”
“Shhh, keep going baby, don’t you dare stop.” You threatened her, her teary eyes making your pussy clench around her cock, making your girlfriend moan loudly “such a fucking good cock, feels so good…”
“Hmmm fuck… you feel so good too, wanna be inside you forever…” she said as she pounded your pussy so good. Even when drunk, she knew what your face was saying, knowing she was hitting you in a spot you really like, getting you closer. “Like this, baby? D-does my cock feel good here?”
“So good… don’t you fucking stop.. Hmm fuck, baby!” You came intensely as her name kept coming from your mouth again and again, music for her ears. The sensation also making her moan, feeling herself too close.
“y/n, I’m gonna come…” she warned you, but you weren’t done with her punishment. You turned you guys around, holding her wrists against the mattress and riding her “oh god…” she moaned as she bit her lip. When you felt her dick inside you twisting, meaning her orgasm was just seconds away, you quickly got off her, ruining her orgasm as she finished untouched “Ahh! F-fuck.. nooo.. fuck!” She whimpered and cried as her cum ended on her thighs and some on her abs. “Why… that hurt, y/n..” she complained, hissing a bit when a cold wet towel made contact with her skin to clean her.
“That’s what you get for being a bad girl.” You told her, receiving a groan for her. When you turned around to see her, her eyes were still full of tears, a pout on her face. You simply laughed before holding her closer to you. “Don’t worry baby, tomorrow when you’re sober I’ll make sure to take care of you good.”
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glassartpeasants · 2 months
Text
How to Love
Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, semi-slow burn?, beginnings to chapters are hard </3
A/N: yeah here we are. just wanted to set a light on what the base plan is. Also, this takes place RIGHT after the prologue ends. hopefully, it's good for a first chapter.
~~~
Your heart beats harshly against your ribs as the events of only moments ago replay in your mind like a broken record. The images of the two most significant people in your world, your boyfriend and your best friend, betraying you, makes your head spin. It almost feels unreal, like a nightmare instead of reality.
But it wasn’t a dream. It was a harsh reality, a stark contrast to the life you thought you were living.
Instead of waking up next to your boyfriend, you find yourself in a disorienting place: your ex-best friend's ex-boyfriend's car. Random items you managed to grab scattered across the passenger side and on your lap. The smell of Eustass’s cologne, a scent that used to bring comfort, now only added to your heartbreak, still plaguing your nose.
“Thank you, Law. You really didn’t have to.” Despite being almost inaudible, Law still heard you like you were screaming. The tremble in your voice notifies him of his own inability to speak without breaking down.
“It’s fine. Thank you for telling me about (.....)-ya’s infidelity.” The fact you even told him in the first place shocked him. You had known (.....) for years, and she was your best friend, while you only had a class project with him. Given that it was a whole semester-long, you were willing to throw away a friendship just like that. 
“You're a good guy, Law. You don’t deserve to be cheated on. Whether we’re friends or strangers. I would have told you regardless. No one deserves such heartbreak.” Law can see tears slipping down your cheeks out of the corner of his eyes. The fact that you're trying to stay strong after being the one to discover the affair is admirable in a sense. It could also be that you didn’t want him to see you cry. The latter sounds more plausible.
“I'm glad I didn’t delete your number. It would have been awkward if I had tried to catch you at work.” A small, sad chuckle left your lips. The tension in the car was too much, and you needed something to keep your mind distracted so you didn’t start wailing in front of Law.
“That would have been a scene I’m grateful we avoided. I like to keep my private life and work life separate.” 
“I’m the same in a sense. I don’t tell my co-workers much except to recommend shows or movies. I know you're more of a book guy, but have you seen any shows or movies recently?”
“(.....)-ya made me watch a movie the other day. It was a horror movie.”
“Oh. Was it good?”
“No, it was terrible.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Law's cold tone.
“Bad effects, or was it a storyline issue?”
“I could’ve made a better movie with a budget of two dollars.” Even though tears still fall from your eyes against your wishes, Law manages to make you laugh to ease the pain.
“Well, have you read any good books recently?”
“Haven’t had the time.” Law’s admission made your eyes furrow together. You know the medical field could be rough, but there wasn't enough time for him to read?
"The bookworm hasn't read recently? Are you sure you're the real Law?" A small smile tugs at the corner of Law’s lips as he listens to you talk, but even he can only hide the effects of heartbreak for so long.
Whether Law knew it or not, you could see tiny droplets of water gather in his eyes. Seeing him trying to hold it together made it just a bit harder to prevent yourself from breaking down. You grip the seat of his car and try to regulate your breathing. Clenching your teeth together,  you lay your head on the window and look outside. The sudden tap of water hitting the glass makes you jump. You look around and watch as more water droplets start hitting the car. 
“It’s raining. I thought it was supposed to be sunny all day?”
“I thought so, too.” The thick, tense silence rose once again, making it hard to breathe. If there had been enough room, you would have curled yourself up in a ball and cried. But you could do that when you get to...
“Where are we going?”
“My apartment. Just for now.”
“Ah, okay. Do you have any alcohol at your place?”
“Maybe some (.....)-ya left. Why?”
“So we can drink away our sadness.”
“I’m not much of a drinker.” A second silence covers the car.
“So I can drink away our sadness.”
“We’ll see when we get there.”
~~~
Your feet feel heavy as you walk into Law’s apartment. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside it. After the project was finished, you stopped coming over. Law’s busy schedule and your own just didn’t mix. Sometimes, you’d text him to check up on him and ask him how he was doing. He’d take hours or a day to respond, but you never held it against him. He always answered before it had been 48 hours, so it was okay with you.
Looking around his apartment, you see things that hadn’t been there before: some plants, many pictures on the wall, a TV, and some knickknacks you recognize that belong to (.....). The atmosphere was more welcoming than when you first visited Law’s apartment. If an apartment could feel like a hospital waiting room, then that’d be Law’s place before (.....) put her touch on it.
Placing your things near the couch, you take a deep breath as you rub your sternum to try and soothe the pain in your chest. All the pictures of Law and (.....) smiling happily nailed to the walls made your throat go dry. The images of your own apartment clouded your vision as you remembered your own photos with Eustass. Pictures of times when you did matching Halloween costumes, went to concerts together, relaxed at a beach together, or the two of you would just stay home. Every picture held a memory. 
A once cherished memory is now tainted by the image of betrayal. No amount of effort can make that image disappear. Even your happiest memories become blurry when you hear (.....) calling out Eustass's name. It ignites a fiery rage inside you, and seeing (.....)'s face everywhere makes you clench your teeth. You feel like tearing apart every picture of Law and (.....) just to remove her face from your sight. Every bone in your body screams at you to lose control. To destroy everything that reminds you of Eustass and (.....) until it is nothing but microscopic pieces.
But you weren’t home. The home you once had was now lost to time. For now, your ‘home’ depends on whether Law will allow you to stay the night for tonight.
“You can stay the night on the couch for tonight if you want. I have blankets in the closet over there.” You let out an internal breath of relief from Law, answering your question without being asked.
“Thank you, Law. Can I make you dinner or something? Just so I can repay your kindness?” You watch Law lean against the kitchen counter before crossing his arms. His eyes staring out into space.
“I haven’t gone shopping yet this week, so I don’t have much.”
“I’m sure I can craft up something.”
“If you want, then go ahead.” The sound of a ringtone brings a silence to the both of you. You check your phone and see the screen’s black.
“I think it’s yours.” Pulling out his phone from his pocket, you watch Law look at the screen. A frown crosses his face immediately, letting you know the caller. Letting out a heavy sigh, you watch him answer the phone.
“What do you want (.....)-ya?” While you couldn’t understand what she was saying, the tone of her voice was frantic. You could hear sobs coming from the other line. Hearing them pissed you off to hell and back. Didn’t (.....) have a shred of decency? How dare she plead and beg after she committed such an act?
You had to sit on the couch to calm yourself down just so you wouldn’t start screaming at (.....) through the phone. As soon as your body relaxed on the couch, a wave of soreness came over you. It feels as if you’ve been working out for hours on end and only now stopped. Even your eyelids felt heavy as you feel tears starting to form and blur your vision. Trying to breathe normally falls short as you begin to hyperventilate. Your lungs burn as you can feel your throat constricting. It feels like you're swallowing your heart just to keep yourself quiet.
“I meant what I said (.....)-ya. I’m breaking up with you, and that’s final. You can come get your things tomorrow afternoon.” Hearing Law’s voice helped soothe a part of your aching soul. Hearing something other than your own ragged breathing helped calm down the streams of tears that were flowing down your face.
“I’m done talking with you (.....)-ya. Goodbye.” The sound of Law’s calls ending made you rub your face, trying to hide the tears that plagued you seconds ago.
“Your more civil than I would have been. I probably wouldn’t have even picked up her call.” Your voice cracked as you tried to let out a small laugh.
“She was asking me for a ride. Apparently, her and Eustass got in a fight, and he threw her out in the rain.” Scoffing in disbelief, you turn your head to look at Law, hoping he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes.
“She asked you for a ride after cheating on you? Serves her right, getting thrown in the rain. Hope she gets a cold.” You can see Law’s body tremble and how he bites his lip. His eyes get glassy as he looks at the ceiling.
“Fucking a man.” Even from across the room, you can hear Law whispering to himself. You hated seeing him like this. Watching someone you care about hurt only adds to the pain you feel.
“Hey…do you wanna watch something to get our minds off them?”
“I should go back to work. They probably need me.” You let out a hum, hearing his words. A slight feeling of rejection crosses your mind, but you're quick to shake it off. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. And if he was the type to work away his feelings, who were you to stop him?
“Well, drive safe. It sounds like the rain is hitting harder.” The sound of rain beating against the windows of Law’s apartment was finally acknowledged. Its beat almost matched Law’s own heartbeat as he thought about the phone call only minutes ago.
Hearing (.....)’s voice felt like nails on a chalkboard as she tried to explain what happened. The voice that once calmed his aching heart was now the reason it hurt. It was astonishing how fast his whole world flipped upside down. Earlier today, he couldn’t wait to come home and see (.....) and have her talk to him about her day. But now, instead of (.....) smiling at him, you were sitting on his couch with puffy eyes.
The way he could hear the tremble in your voice and how the light shined against the path of tears left on your face made his own wave of emotions try to surface. Even if he could tell you were trying hard to hold them back, he could see tears collect against your eyelashes. The sight had tears accumulating in his own eyes, making him look up at the ceiling to try and stop them. He didn’t need to show how bad (.....)’s betrayal has affected him. At least not in front of you.
Sure, you guys were going through the same thing together, but it wouldn’t help him or you if he let his own emotions out. It’d just be easier to shove them down, ignore them, and work until the pain left. He’s done it before, so he can do it again. 
“Um, Law?” Looking back down, he sees you standing in front of him. You refuse to meet his eyes as you fiddle with the bottom of your shirt.
“Yeah?”
“Can I hug you?” Law felt his heart skip a beat hearing your request. A part of him told himself no that he’d break down the moment you wrapped your arms around him. Yet, the voice of someone he used to know told him something different.
“Okay.” As soon as the words left his lips, he felt your body smushed up against his. Your arms held him in a tight embrace as the sound of your hushed sniffles made Law finally cave. Wrapping his own arms around you, a sense of comfort filled him. The feeling of being cared for once again was nice yet terrifying. As soon as the feeling would come, it’d leave just as fast.
But for now, he’ll indulge in your hold.
~~~
The blanket that wrapped around you did little to replicate Law’s hug. Sure, you were warm, but it wasn’t the same. It reminded you of how alone you were. You had no family in this city, and your only friends were (.....) and Law, but you wouldn’t count him as an option due to the current predicament. It felt like you were running in circles with every idea that popped into your head. Always leading to a dead end and making you start all over again.
You couldn’t go back home. It’d take you around three to four hours to drive there! Plus, you didn’t leave on a good note with your parents when you left for college. And if their last words to you were anything to go by, they didn’t want you back. You shake your head at the thought of your parents.
“No. No need to drag myself down even more thinking about them.” Slithering your hand out of your blanket cocoon, you grab your phone that was on your right. The black screen stared at you as it showed your reflection. Eyes red from tears earlier and a cut lip from biting on it so hard earlier.
A ding echoes across the empty apartment as the phone's black screen soon turns on. The quick flash makes your eyes burn before squinting to try and get used to the brightness. Once adjusted, you see a message from Law hiding in your notification bar.
-“I need a favor from you.”
-“Sure, what ya need?”
-“(.....)-ya is supposed to be getting her things this morning. I want you to make sure she takes everything and leaves her key in the dish by the door.”
A frown skims across your face as the thought of seeing (.....)’s face makes your stomach churn. It’s only been a day, and you're already forced to see her face? At the same time, Law did allow you to stay the night last night. So, despite your distaste for seeing (.....), you agreed.
-“Will do. Can count on me :)”
-“Thanks.”
-“How’s working going so far?”
-“Fine.”
-“That's good”
The urge to ask him what his plans were with you after you did him this favor ate at your conscience as soon as you sent that last text. Law was really the only one whose place you felt safe enough to sleep at. And he’s the only person you have in the entire city. You didn’t have a license since a lot of things were always within walking distance, so you never had a reason to. 
But now, you were on the complete other side of the city. What used to be a five-minute walk to your job now would take at least thirty minutes. You had no idea where anything was on this side of the city. Sure, you and Law would go grab an energy drink from the gas station when the two of you worked the night away on that old project, but that was two years ago. Who knows? Maybe that gas station doesn’t even exist anymore!
“Do you go here a lot?”
“To buy an energy drink and coffee every now and then.” The sound of small pebbles crunching under your and Law’s shoes goes unnoticed as you walk next to him.
“Okay, so every day then?” A laugh escapes your lips as Law rolls his eyes, yet a small smile plays against his lips.
“This gas station is the only place that sells my favorite one.”
“Which is?”
“Can’t tell you. What if you take it?” A smirk appears on his lips as he puts his hands in his pockets. Scoffing, you place your hand on your chest in fake offense.
“I can’t believe you’d think so lowly of me. Stealing your beloved drink? Only a monster could be so heartless!” Hearing Law let out a chuckle from your words made a heavy feeling of confidence run through your veins. He was always relatively quiet when in class, so it was nice to see him show emotion other than ‘bored.’
“How much farther? I’m dying to know the favorite drink of the future best doctor in the world.” A faint pink tints Law’s skin as he tries to look away from you, hoping you don’t see what your comment did to him.
“You really think so?” Despite trying to copy your playful tone, you can hear his self-doubt and hopefulness that your words were true.
“I know so! No one works harder than you! If anyone says otherwise, tell me and I’ll kick their ass.” Law could feel his palms grow sweaty, and his heart beat a little faster. 
Sure, he’s gotten praise from his teacher, but hearing it come from someone he had just met and barely knew felt a little more sincere? Why, he didn’t know, but he won’t complain.
“Will do.”
KNOCK KNOCK
The sound of light knowing pulls you from your memories. Looking up at the clock, you see it’s nearly three pm. You sigh as you shed the multiple layers of blankets you were snuggled in. The rage and anger from yesterday are still strong in your system, making you clench your fists. You walk towards the door when you hear your fingers popping from the sheer force. Unlocking it, you take a deep breath before fully opening it.
In front of you stood a very unkempt (.....). Her hair was in a messy ponytail, accompanied by red eyes and a red face. Makeup from the night before was still applied to her skin as mascara streaked down her face. Your eyes even caught the barely covered hickeys and bite marks that shined through her concealer.
“(Y-Y/N)?...Why are you…Where’s Law?” Her pitiful voice made you squeeze the doorknob tighter to try and calm yourself.
“He’s at work. Not that it’s any of your business, but he was kind enough to let me spend the night.” Your eyes narrowed at her as you couldn’t help but glare daggers at the marks on her neck. Noticing your stare, (.....) moved her shoulder to cover her neck.
“I see…” You move to let her in and shut the door behind her. She lets out a shaky breath before beginning to take down the multiple pictures hanging along the wall. The sound of sniffles hits your ears as you watch her grab the frames with shaky hands. Listening to her hold back tears made you struggle to hold your own.
How could she have done this? Years of friendship only to throw it away for some dick? Did you mean so little to her? You’ve been with her for everything! Breakups, grandparents passing, getting in trouble together, anything and everything you’ve done for her! If she needed a kidney transplant, you would’ve volunteered right away!
Now, seeing how a friendship can easily be thrown away like trash after years made bitterness fill your heart. If your best friend and boyfriend could betray you without so much of a second thought, what does that say about the strangers all around you?
What does that say about you? Did you do something to deserve this? Was (.....) mad at you and thought fucking your lover would get back at you? There had to be a reason. To be an explanation for the horror you saw yesterday. Maybe after a drink or two after (.....) leaves will calm you down.
~~~
“You got everything?”
“Yeah.” Just as she was about to walk out the door, you remembered that she still hadn't given you the key.
“I need the apartment key.” Putting your hand out, you move your eyes to your hand and back at her.
“I-I don’t have it.” Furrowing your brows, you sigh.
“Don’t bullshit me. I’ve known you for years, and I know when you lie. Now give me the goddamn keys (.....).” You watch (.....) bite her lip before digging into her jacket pocket. The light shined off the key as she gently put it in your hands.
“Can you say goodbye to Bepo for me?” Confusion hit you like a train at her request.
“What the hell are-you know what? Fine. I’ll say bye.”
“Thanks.” Closing the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. After locking the door behind her, you placed her old key in the dish Law has near the door for his keys. (.....) request puzzled you as you tried to think of what she was talking about.
“What the hell is a Bepo?”
Just then, a light pitter-patter echos in the apartment. Your heart stops as the sound gets closer. There shouldn’t be anyone else in the apartment but you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to move quietly towards the kitchen to grab something to defend yourself.
“Meow!” You stop in your tracks upon hearing that noise. Embarrassment floods your body as you move even closer to the noise. Upon turning the corner, you see a white cat walking in your direction. A big white cat.
“Can’t believe I got spooked by a damn cat. Didn’t even know Law had a cat…a fatass one nonetheless.” Bending down, you move your hand to let the cat smell you. A smile appears on your face when it rubs against you.
“Hmm? What’s this?” Moving the fluff from his neck, you see a collar with a tag. Squinting your eyes, you finally see the name engraved on the tag.
“Ohhh…your Bepo! Well, aren’t you a cutie-pie?” With (.....) 's request finally making sense, you fight to actually fulfill it. With a sigh, you pick up Bepo and hold him gently. 
“Let’s send your dad a selfie. I think he’ll appreciate it.” You go to the couch, pick up your phone, and find the right angle for the picture. When you find the right spot, you smile as Bepo rubs his head against your face.
“Say cheese!”
~~~
It’d been a long day at the hospital. It felt like nothing went right. Sure, he put in his all, but he had to tell people how they were diagnosed with a terminal illness or dealing with dumb co-workers. The only good thing today did for him was keep (.....) out of his head. But now that work was over, the nagging thoughts could finally bother him once more.
Sighing as he unlocked his apartment door, he was immediately hit with the smell of something cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and he was happy that he didn’t have to make anything tonight. When he went to put his keys in the dish designated for them, he saw (.....)’s key lying in the middle. A wave of relief washed over him as he finished taking off his shoes and coat.
“Oh, Law, are you home?” Your voice rings in his ears as he walks further into his apartment. He spots you setting up the table while humming to yourself.
“Yeah, I’m back. Did you make something?”
“Well, you’ve been at work for sixteen hours, so obviously, you should be hungry! Not to mention that you deserved a home-cooked meal after working so hard.” Moving closer to the dinner table, he sees a plate of grilled fish along with a can of what looks to be sparkling water. The smell of his favorite food drew him closer, and he felt a sense of calm filled him. It’d be the second night in a row you made him dinner.
“Where did you get the fish? I don’t remember having any?”
“Oh, after (.....) took her stuff and left, I used GPS to find a store nearby, and there was an organic type of food store only two blocks away! So I went shopping and got things! Except for beverages, so I stopped by the gas station we used to go to and got sparkling water 'cause you don’t drink and no way you’d drink an energy boost at eight pm.” You continued talking, but it was lost on Law���s ears as he stared at the set-up table. The fact you put yourself to go grocery shopping and making him dinner made his sour mood from only moments ago lighten.
“Thank you.” As he moves to wash his hands in the sink, he sees his beloved cat following you and purring.
“I see you’ve met Bepo.” Upon speaking, the cat changed his attention to Law. Bepo begins to meow as he prances towards Law’s feet before rubbing against them. Leaning down, Law gives him a few pets before washing his hands.
“I didn’t even know you had a cat. Did you just get him?”
“No. I’ve had him for almost a year and a half. Why?” He watches you lift your eyebrows and look at Bepo before looking back at Law.
“What?”
“Law. Do you see how big that cat is?” Despite just washing his hands, Law picks up Bepo and holds him in his arms.
“What about it? He’s growing.”
“That cat is obese. He needs a diet.”
“Bepo is perfect the way he is.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched him hold Bepo protectively and away from you.
“You can be delusional all you want, but come eat before the food gets cold.” Turning your back, you begin to dish up after washing your hands. You can hear Law rewashing his own before sitting on the opposite side of the table.
As awkward as it may be, the presence of one another brings a slight calm to your new chaotic world.
~~~
TAGLIST: @yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck i hope i got everyone and if i didn't im sorry. I tried writing everyone's names
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nobodyfamousposts · 6 months
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Scarlet Lady Essay: Frightningale
Yet another essay for @zoe-oneesama. Because you deserve it.
I’m not going to bother with a compare/contrast of canon vs Scarlet Lady Frightningale because Frightningale in canon was a pretty forgettable episode. Akuma was lame. Setup was wasted. And it’s removal from the series would lose nothing of value.
So instead, I'm going to focus primarily on the Scarlet Lady version of Frightningale and what it does that makes it memorable.
I guess to start with, I should make it clear that I’m not a fan of shows being lazy, especially when they display a lack of planning or consideration of their story and characters. And perhaps one of the greater indicators of this issue is when a series suddenly realizes they they neglected multiple plot points until it’s too late to give them all the focus they warrant so they end up shoving all of those points into one episode and try to present it like it’s supposed to be an adequate resolution of all that buildup or in any way intentional.
Penalteam was that episode for Miraculous. They had the “temporary heroes” setup going for them but then wasted so much time on filler like Frightningale that it seems like they honestly forgot about it until they were reaching a designated end point and they realized they still had four more heroes they were supposed to introduce. Whoops? Ah well, just introduce them all at once. Not like anyone will care!
And when you treat most of the cast like they’re all as shallow as a puddle, I guess that’s true.
The thing is, when you have a setup where there is a running theme of every person in a specific group getting their own episode/chapter to detail their issues and how they get a power up, it’s going to stand out whenever one of them doesn’t. Especially when that one or more are forced to share their limelight episode. 
That’s not to say you can’t do it, but it’s bound to get attention if you do. It reflects poorly on the writing. It shows whom the “favored” and “unfavored” characters are. And it displays the issue with pacing—namely that it’s next to nonexistent until it hits you with the force of a freight train.
But can it be done and be done well? Is it possible to pull off such a thing and have it make sense and fit in lines with the characters?
Well, yes. Off the top of my head, I can think of two different ways to do it to make it work.
And Zoe did both of them.
If you look at Scarlet Lady as a whole, you’ll see a conglomeration of characters—each with stories and arcs attached. They have personalities. They have goals and problems and their own highs and lows. One sign of good writing is that some focus is given to highlight these other characters as people. Individuals in their own right with lives outside of the main characters or situation.
Miraculous doesn't really do this.
Scarlet Lady, however, does. Because contrary to the title, Scarlet Lady isn’t just about Chloe.
It isn’t even just about the heroes.
It isn’t just about Chloe being horrible. Or Marinette being in love. Or Adrien being in desperate need of a hug and a nap. Because while the story is centered around them, it isn’t solely about them. Other characters get focus and growth and their own arcs throughout the comics.
But the big two—the BIGGEST two with arguably the most depth and most growth and quite frankly the best storylines out of everyone in the entire series?
It’s Sabrina and Lila. And their individual stories have led up to this.
As such, this episode—which was mostly filler and all around forgettable in canon, matters here.
It’s where Sabrina and Lila reach the culmination of their respective character arcs. 
Yes, it’s when they both get to become Miraculous Heroes and meet their own kwamis, but it’s more than just that! They both hang out with the girls group as full members of the crew, getting to take part in a music video together. It’s also where they both get to stand up for themselves and the city at large while calling out Chloe and Scarlet Lady. This is what their storylines have been building up to and where their growth really shows.
Sabrina started out as Chloe’s minion same as canon—albeit with more attention to her feelings and her responses, no matter how seemingly small, allowing her to feel more like her own person. And through this focus, we got to see her open up more, pull and eventually break away from Chloe and her influence, and over time stand up for herself and try to establish herself both with the class and as an individual.
Lila started off as a liar and manipulator, selfish and self centered, much like canon. Unlike canon, her lies are tied to her issues, noted to be poorly thought through, and give her more introspection as a person. After the lies are revealed, she’s not “redeemed” so much as she is “accountable”, and it doesn’t change who she is. She remains selfish and certainly far from being considered “good”, but she’s letting people in past her walls and masks in a way she hadn’t been able to before.
Both of these things? Figuring out who you are and letting people know you for who you are? They’re incredibly hard. And a lot of time was devoted to both of their journeys along the course of the comic.
Sabrina’s arc was about her figuring out who she is on her own. Outside of Chloe and her previous role of being a follower and lackey. And sometimes it feels less scary to stay with someone toxic than to be alone and facing the unknown. We see it in the way she tries to put herself out there afterwards, reaching out and risking rejection and just figuring herself out. Even or perhaps especially with those she already knows and has a less than positive history with.
And we still see the struggle of her view of herself in this episode. It was in the way she was upset that she legitimately tried to help and it still resulted in bad things happening. And it was also clear when she calls herself a “sidekick” to Marigold after the day was saved, as if it’s a role she still sees herself as and one she struggles not to fall in to. Over time, we’re seeing Sabrina learning that she doesn’t have to be attached or subservient to someone else to have an identity or be accepted. 
Lila’s arc involved her figuring out who she is with people. Outside of the lies and manipulations she creates, the masks she wears, and the identities she crafts to make people like her. The “real Lila” is far from the best person and arguably not even a good person, but she also doesn’t have to be for the others to accept her as the still somewhat bad influence she is. She’s still very much selfish and flawed, but she’s less inclined to hide it or treat it like something that needs to be hidden. And isn’t that a common lesson? That it’s better to be liked for who you are than to force yourself to be someone else to be liked?
And at the same time, even with being less than a fully good person, she’s showing that she can still find better ways of acting that allow her to help others rather than hurt them or serve herself. She still hates Scar, but rather than working with Hawk Moth to kill her and risk dooming Paris and the world, she’s instead working with Alya through more legitimate (and legal) means…and hitting Scar where it hurts most. She and Adrien may not be friends, but rather than try to punish him for not going along with her, she’s instead rescued him, putting herself on the line—something that the former Lila wouldn’t have considered doing and one that canon Lila wouldn’t be capable of. Even if she’s motivated by pettiness or self-interest, what would have been straight up revenge on someone who upset her has grown to be something that is working in everyone’s better interests.
Both Lila and Sabrina hid themselves in different ways and for different reasons. So having them both assert themselves and call out both Chloe and Scarlet Lady is a show of their growth and overall a huge deal. It’s not something either of them would have done at the start of the series. Sabrina, because she was a “yes man” who wouldn’t dare to argue with Chloe and Lila because she wouldn’t risk openly doing something to make herself a target. 
And now boom! Look at them both! Lila stepped up to openly and publicly denounce Scarlet Lady as not being a hero for real reasons that aren’t just about herself or her feelings—complete with receipts! The girl did her research, noting incidents from before she even came into the picture. Then follow up with Sabrina standing up against Chloe’s machinations and dismantling Chloe’s main source of power: her father. Even better, she’s using logic and knowledge she would have as a former ally of Chloe’s who would know her tricks, taking her former friendship with Chloe and using it against her.
And on top of that, each of them are given the Miraculous by the person they wronged in the past. Marinette to Sabrina and Adrien to Lila. Especially in Lila’s case, it says a lot that they’re trusted. That shows narratively that even with their mistakes and bad choices and continued struggles, they still can move forward—not necessarily to find redemption, but to find themselves and be their best selves.
This is why it makes sense for them to share this episode. It’s also why both of them speaking up matters. They are both publicly confronting their greatest foe, and the fact that their foes are really two faces of the same person further highlights this. 
So they both have issues with the same person, are dealing with forming their identities without catering to others, are working out how to have/be friends, were formerly not the best of people, and have a fear of rejection. As such, this isn’t just their obligatory hero episode, this is what their individual stories have been leading up to. Almost like they’re two sides of the same coin. And the comparison between the two helps them both shine.
And speaking of shining, does anyone remember how the all girls team up didn’t get a chance to shine in canon? Zoe sure did.
I have a whole list of problems I have regarding Party Crasher, but perhaps number seven on that list is that the boys got to have an all male temp hero team up episode while the girls didn’t.
In fact, by this episode in canon, only Alya, Chloe, and Kagami actually got to be temp heroes.
To be fair, only four of the guys out of seven in canon got to be part of their particular event in Party Crasher, leaving out Ivan (who often tends to get overlooked) and Nathaniel (who has had a precedent of just literally disappearing from the episode). But originally, part of the appeal of Party Crasher was that the focus was supposed to be on the male classmates and getting to see at least some of them being part of a team against the akuma.
Why then didn’t we get an episode like this with the girls? Or at least something LIKE this?
Frightningale became that episode. And if any of the episodes were to do it, it makes the most sense for Frightningale to be the one.
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All of the girls were together to take part in this event. So Zag would have had the perfect excuse to include them all in the fight or just have the girls do something to help even as civilians. I mean, we’ve had episodes do this before. Max in Robustus. Nathaniel and Alix in Reverser. Luka in Captain Hardrock. Let the civilians show their heroic traits even before they become heroes. It’s not a Miraculous, but it’s still giving them focus and expanding on them as individuals.
Instead, canon Frightningale was a filler episode. And not even a good one. For an akuma who forces people to sing or dance, it’s a waste that they just had the heroes spend the whole time rhyming. A waste of writing and talent. I mean, have you heard Christina Vee sing? If there needed to be a musical episode, I would think that the akuma who forces people to sing would certainly warrant it! At least more than it’s Christmas and they sing just cuz.
So this is yet another thing that Zoe improves with the Scarlet Lady version of this episode. Giving us the all girl team up episode so many of us have long wanted and getting to see all the female heroes together at last. 
And with this, we get the full roster of friends-turned heroes.
Except for Alix. Poor, poor Alix.  ;_;
Your day will come.
In this way, the end where Clara goes a different direction with her music video feels less like a half-assed fix to a half-forgotten plot point and more like something that was built by everyone involved. I don’t know about the rest of you, but given Clara’s excitement over the all girl band playing and Pigella’s gift showing Clara an idea for her video, it highlights the focus on EVERYONE being part of this—both the video and the episode itself. It kind of comes off as a lesson of its own about teamwork and giving everyone a shot rather than focusing specifically only on one or two specific individuals.
And isn’t that what separates the heroes from Scarlet Lady?
But there’s a third important aspect of this episode.
This is the episode where Chloe is smacked in the face with Scarlet Lady’s falling popularity. 
Let’s remember that at the start of the comic, Scarlet Lady was fully and widely considered THE Hero of Paris. She was beloved for doing nothing and it was a point of frustration for Chat, who actually was having to pick up her slack. Initially, there was nothing he could do because him being the only real hero among the duo meant he often couldn't stick around after akuma fights to prevent Scar from telling "our story". In addition, he didn’t know who she was or who chose her and why. Then even when it was clear her getting the Earrings was a mistake, for a lot of the first couple seasons, she was so popular that they couldn’t just take the Earrings away from her lest they risk backlash from the rest of the city. It’s a backlash that seems increasingly unlikely as more and more people get to see her behavior and callousness firsthand.
We’ve seen hints of it in other episodes, but none of them were so blatant to Chloe that she couldn’t ignore it or shrug it off or otherwise make excuses to protect her ego.
Prime Queen wanted to focus on Marigold and Chat Noir for their “romance” to try and boost ratings. Alya and Lila made some snarky comments, but Chloe could easily dismiss them both. Nadja also made a comment that nobody cared about Scarlet’s love life, but a lack of interest in her love life isn’t a lack of interest in herself and Chloe despises both of her “sidekicks” and wouldn’t want anyone trying to pair her with them anyway. And Nadja reassures her that they’ll focus on her after they’re done with Chat and Marigold. So yes, she can dismiss that as well.
Reverser has Chloe faced with both of her identities are made as villains in art and a story. However, she clearly looks down on Nathaniel and Marc barely registers to her. So she can dismiss them.
Look at Despair Bear, the Intermission, the interactions with the various other heroes, and the fact that only Chat Noir and Marigold are privy to the Guardian’s secret existence and allowed to pass out other Miraculous. Much has been shown of the other characters being less than impressed with her, snarky towards her, or showing the process of how they discover the truth about her and how she actually handles akuma attacks…namely in that she doesn’t. And Chloe can dismiss all of that because to her, none of them really matter to her.
But Chloe can’t dismiss the fact that a renown celebrity dedicating a music video to the “Heroes of Paris” isn’t including her. Bad enough her sidekicks are taking center stage but she’s not even in the music video at all?
And when someone she despises calls out the reasons why she’s not a hero in an openly public setting surrounded by a multitude of people who all agree with her? You could say it’s insult to injury. But some would say it was a long time coming.
Some Rando: Scarlet Lady sucks! Alya: Marigold and Chat Noir do all the work, not her! Kagami: She’s barely even necessary at this point. Clara: This video and song are to celebrate hope and love. And Scarlet Lady lacks both when push comes to shove. Chloe: ARGHHH! WHATEVER!
It further shows the turning tide of public opinion against Scar. What was once a trickle has grown into a wave, and now Chloe is forced to acknowledge her image and status aren’t as ironclad as she thought. Sure, she could denounce Lila as a liar like she’s done before, but Lila is bringing up instances that Chloe can’t deny: being late (as she’s just plain been a no show to several fights), endangering civilians, and being caught live on camera being willing to let someone die in a particularly horrible way because it’s easier.
This is the episode where it’s not just people seeing Scar is horrible, but acting on it and letting Chloe know they know she’s horrible. It’s reached the point where Chloe can’t just disregard the claims or discount and ignore her critics. And we’re seeing Chloe starting to lose control as a result. To the point she has to force her dad to ruin a previously sanctioned event in what has to be one of his most flagrant displays of abuse of power to date just to shut down her detractors.
And even that would come with more consequences for Chloe if it had been allowed to continue. Sabrina herself points it out that Clara is very popular with a lot of fans—people who would be aware she’s making a music video and whom would be very disappointed if word got out that it was cancelled due to an issue with the Mayor. And given all the very unhappy people we see in the comic in question where she points that out, it stands to reason that the word would get out. Heck, I’d be surprised if someone wasn’t recording it.
Then there’s the love square/hero shenanigans.
Remember how in canon, the whole “playing themselves/risking identities” bit kinda just dropped out halfway in? The kwamis were the only authority figures involved to call out on the risk and of the two, Plagg didn’t care and Tikki gave one knowing stare at Marinette before turning around to gush about the suit. Even though Marinette offers the alternative idea to the music video by the end, there’s no further comment or notice of how she and Adrien nearly blew their identities….or alternatively a comedic take where nobody recognizes them regardless and they worried for nothing. Honestly, I would have taken either setup.
Having Fu present to call them both out shows there is a responsible authority figure watching, makes it clear there are rules they are expected to follow, and reinforces that this was, in fact, a horrible idea. Sure, Marinette and Adrien worried enough to hide their masks, but it should have been obvious that wouldn’t work long term. They are risking their identities, not just to Paris but to each other. And he calls them out for doing it on purpose.
Then there’s the beautiful crescendo of the love square dance in that the two both pretty much have figured out the other’s identity and just want an identity reveal to make it official—which Fu won’t allow. We see it in their playful banter that gets mistaken for “getting into character” and in Adrien in particular pushing Marinette to take part.
This is a point where we are seeing them be teenagers. Foolish of them? Yes. Should they have known better and not done it? Yes. But is it in character and the sort of teenage shenanigans we would expect of teenage superheroes? Definitely. And that’s part of the point. Because they are teenagers. Teenagers in love, no less. Teenagers in love with secret identities to dance around. Which is half the fun of secret identities!
It’s just another aspect to this episode that makes it enjoyable.
So overall, the episode matters in ways that the canon version didn’t and was fun in ways that the canon version wasn’t, making it stand out not just as an episode or a remake of the canon episode, but as its own standalone episode AND a noteworthy point in the overall story.
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plaguechyld · 4 days
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Omggg finally a blog with dom reader instead of sub!! I'm so excited I don't know what to even request with all the thoughts in my head! I'm into power play, spanking, dumbification, praise kink and overstimulation. I can't think of a storyline but you can choose one of any of those kny characters (muzan, kokushibo, giyuu, yoriichi or kagaya ) thanks!
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i’m glad you’re excited!! All of these are right up my alley too lol
first giyuu work of the blog?? Lets goooo (reader is uppermoon two along with douma)
cw: sub!giyuu, dom!gn!reader, demon!reader, uppermoon!reader, praise, spanking, dumbification, overstim, manhandling, crying, reader is said to have an angelic appearance, you/your used for reader, plot, fighting is flirting, reader has strap/cock (referred to has cock but can be interpreted at strap), demons can purr
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This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen, Giyuu was supposed to be in for a suicide mission, fighting uppermoon two alone.
The demon slayer had been confronted by the demon, you, in the dead of night when he was all alone on a patrol of the outskirts of a town in the wild lands of Japan’s countryside.
The first thing he noticed about you, embarrassingly enough, was how stunning your appearance is. Still, that didn’t stop him from drawing his katana from its sheath and baring it at you.
Giyuu swallowed when he saw your eyes, how could he not? They were beautiful after all, though they held the demonic inscription of uppermoon two.
The battle would be bloody, he knew. Your strength outweighed his by an obscene amount, your flesh could mend itself back together within mere seconds and your stamina was nearly unlimited, something he would soon come to see in a different light.
A soft smile played on your mouth, lips tugged up in a gentle manner as the skin around your eyes crinkle slightly. Each blow the hashira dealt was easily sidestepped by you, making Giyuu somewhat enchanted by you despite himself.
Your movements were so graceful, making you look like a living angel as you danced through the entourage of blade slashes directed at you.
Your smile never fades as you gradually get closer and closer to Giyuu despite him thinking that he has quite a handle at keeping you at a fair distance. The elation surprised him and he found himself soon unable to keep you more than a few feet away from him.
Sweat started beading on his forehead as he tried harder, channeling every skill he knew of from both his breathing style and swordsmanship in general. But despite the worry he was feeling at your nearing presence, you didn’t intend him any harm, you just had to exhaust the hashira to the point where he couldn’t fight back any longer.
Truth be told you found him absolutely beautiful, those deep sapphire eyes and dark black hair framing his pale face. Those fluid water-like movements, a signature of water breathing users, just looked so much better when it was Giyuu moving in that way.
In your century of life you have come across many different demons, demon slayers and normal mortals.. Even playing around with a handful that you found physically attractive, though none ever tugged at any heartstrings of yours, nor achieved a second glance.
This human was different, he was undeniably handsome but also his quiet nature intrigued you.
Mortals and even demons varied in personality, of course. But when they were in the presence of you they either become obnoxiously loud, crying and screaming and whatnot. Either that or they would cower in fear, not even daring to speak a word to you, causing you to quickly become bored with their existence.
But Giyuu was different, he was quiet, not screaming at you for your existence but at the same time his silence was not driven by fear. No, it was driven by the pure focus driving him forward.
Undoubtedly Giyuu harbored some hate towards you merely for the fact you were a demon. It didn’t bother you, however. He was respectful in his fight, never once did an insult slip past his plush lips which you found to be quite a pleasing change of pace.
And so you let him fight, let him display his years of training in such a gorgeous way.
Giyuu wasn’t completely unaware of your silent musing, he noticed the way you gazed at him with dreamy eyes. He saw the way you allowed his every attack to finish, even if it never hit you.
Those small things go unnoticed by many, so many that it has annoyed you for multiple decades. But you knew that Giyuu saw them and that only fueled your interest in him.
The fight was quiet, only the soft rustling of fabric, impact against grass and sword slashes swinging through the air.
But at the same time it spoke louder than any word could. The soft dance you two were in together grew closer and closer like it was nearing its grand finish, however that end would not be in death nor would it come that night.
The both of you seemed to look past the slashing of Giyuu’s sword, focusing on the small gestures of movement that brought a soft hue of pink to the hashira’s ears.
Your hand would graze his blade for a moment before he danced away from you again. He wasn’t that easy to woo, you found, which made you try even more. But at the same time Giyuu never rejected you, no. He was just putting on a show, a beautiful one at that.
The two of you had lived a life of darkness and bloodshed so a meeting such as this was only appropriate, no? To many others it would appear that the hashira’s fate was sealed and in a way it was, though there was no promise of death when he was with you.
It was important for the first promise between them to remain silent, not spoken aloud. The words in early days of meeting are unimportant in such a world, the quiet bond that was being built was much more precious, like a small defenseless thing that you wanted to shelter. It was valuable to you, you realized.
In some ways Giyuu felt the same. He just couldn’t help it, he was lonely. He had been lonely since childhood so the promise from such a seemingly… angelic demon seemed tempting to him. That temptation was already drawing him in, he had fallen to it, how could he not? You were so pleasing to be in the presence of. Despite the clear warning of the kanji inscribed in your beautiful e/c eyes the hashira found himself unable to pull away.
You welcomed him, you welcomed him to you, ignoring the biological hatred between the two of you because why would that matter? You had all eternity to have whatever you desired, why would principles make it any different?
The need, no matter how faint, was all too visible to you. Giyuu didn’t hide it from you, never averting his gaze from your own as if he wanted to drive your primal hunger for him. He didn’t fear your fangs nor your sharp nails that could dig into his flesh if he were to make a single misstep.
As his stamina ran out his muscles began to ache, his movements were growing more sluggish from their dance dragging on too long for his human body to handle.
This notion didn’t slip past your notice, after all the two of you were already so in tune with each other despite never speaking a word.
You let him drop right into your arms from fatigue and somehow Giyuu didn’t find himself afraid of what was to come.
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Slept left Giyuu after some hours of sleeping. He found himself waking up in a lavish western style bed. The room was comfortable, having a nice scent of something like vanilla and cinnamon.
The hashira found that couldn’t bring himself to sit up out of the bed, feeling too content to even consider it much.
Your presence was easy to sense within the home due to the fact you didn’t bother to mask it from the demon slayer. The trust between the two of you was oddly strong despite the strange nature of its founding.
It didn’t alarm Giyuu when you entered what he could only assume to be a guest bedroom. In your hands was a bowl of pork cutlet, well seasoned with some vegetables on the side. The exhausted demon slayer took the bowl of food with a thankful nod.
As he ate he was able to hear your voice for the first time as you asked him a simple question.
“Your name?” ah, of course your voice would be as attractive as your appearance. The mere sound of it had turned the tips of Giyuu’s ears pink once more as he replied in a soft voice.
“Tomioka Giyuu.” It was a short response but he was happy to see that you didn’t mind his lack of verbalization. You gave him your name in return and he nodded, finishing up his meal with eagerness.
You chuckle softly as you take his empty bowl away and at the same time set down a glass of water. Giyuu smiled softly to himself, hiding it behind the rim of the cup as he took a grateful drink.
This was some of the most gentle treatment he had received after years of tough training, bloodshed and ostracization from his fellow slayers. So he couldn’t help but feel at ease around you, despite your status as an uppermoon demon.
You couldn’t help but feel similarly with his own status as a high ranking demon slayer, a hashira. The two of you didn’t feel like you were in danger when you were around each other which was out of the ordinary but at the same time pleasing.
It was quite comforting to finally be able to form a meaningful connection with someone after all these years.
The wounds he had allowed himself to sustain during a recent mission were now rebandaged, Giyuu noticed. You had spent the time wrapping his arm and waist in fresh white bandages, making the hashira feel a warmth growing in his chest.
Those seemingly small things were quite a gentle and thoughtful thing for a demon to even consider doing, he thought. So the fact that you did it made it all the more special to him.
You had left Giyuu to his thoughts for a little while as you cleaned his dish before putting it away.
You returned to his side not long after and this time the two of you didn’t stay separated for long. Soon you were seated on the comfortable duvet cover of the bed Giyuu had been resting in, looking over at him.
A slight shift in his posture edged his hand just a little closer to your body, a silent invitation for you to take hold of it.
And that you did, your cooler hand slipped into his rather warm and calloused one, gently running your thumb over the top of it as Giyuu allowed his deep blue eyes to flutter shut. Soft touches were so rare in Giyuu’s profession and he was really feeling that fact now.
Some might consider him touch starved, which he couldn’t disagree with. So when you gave him that gentle touch Giyuu could find himself craving more and more. He didn’t care about being greedy and honestly, neither did you.
So a simple hand touch soon turned into you rubbing his arm then to the two of you in a joined embrace on that soft bed. It was painfully comfortable, lying there with Giyuu. So the two of you remained wrapped in each other’s arms for a while longer.
Your hands eventually found his dark black hair, undoing the ponytail it was currently in, letting it hang loose. Giyuu hummed in question only to be met by you slipping down into a lying position on the bed and opening your arms for him.
Who was he to refuse the demon that took him in? So of course he allowed his body to sink against your’s, letting out a soft breath of content when you begin rubbing slow circles on his back. It didn’t bother him that he was without a shirt at that moment, not at all.
All that mattered was being snuggled against you, being pressed so comfortingly against your demonic body. Giyuu loved that you welcomed him into your arms, that you rubbed his back and tended to his wounds. That you cared to make him feel this way.
And maybe.. Perhaps you would also care enough to make him feel better in another way. That thought seeped into his mind with no warning nor invitation but once it was in it made itself a home. Giyuu couldn’t get the thought of you doing such a sinful and loving thing.
Your eyes were busy gazing at his face, admiring his beautiful features. Once he looks up at you he instantly notices how you’re watching him with that sweet look on your face. Instantly he felt blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. You giggle softly at his reaction and cup his cheeks in your hands, gently squeezing them.
“May I?” you inquire with a quiet breath before smiling when Giyuu nods his head. Your lips meet his own soft ones in a tender kiss. 
It’s calm at first until Giyuu leans into it more, urging you to take that next step. Of course, who were you to deny him? So your tongue meets his own, exploring his mouth for the first time that night.
Giyuu was so needy yet so inexperienced, he didn’t know where to place his hands and was messily copying the motions of your tongue. 
So you take the lead, your hands holding his waist possessively, rubbing all over his skin and bandages with a firm touch.
He tasted so sweet and his little muffled whines were so adorable to listen to. It was so hard to take this slow but you knew that he needed it that way, despite his cold facade he was quite a sensitive thing.
His body remained on top of yours but in no way was the hashira in control, he had relinquished that the moment he fell into your arms. 
You eventually sat up with Giyuu in your lap, clinging to you like you’d vanish if he were to let go.
Giyuu felt his air supply running low so reluctantly he parted from your lips, gasping for breath soon after. Your smile never faded and your hands never left his body, they rubbed his waist slowly before eventually grasping it in full.
Your grip wasn’t particularly firm nor possessive at the moment and even so Giyuu could feel warmth pooling in his tummy from the mere touch. It wasn’t long before you sunk your lips back against his, pulling him into another searing kiss.
It was just so perfect that the hashira couldn’t resist attempting to clumsily roll his hips, not knowing what to do but feeling a tightness growing in his pants. After your lips separate for a second time you don’t waste a moment in placing hands on Giyuu’s hips to guide him properly.
A soft whimper escaped his lips, it was breathy and pure, so painfully pure to you. You had to have more, Giyuu was just so stunning when he was like this, after all. Your hands picked up the pace, making the slayer gasp in moderate surprise before leaning his head into the crook of your neck.
You didn’t mind because in that position you could hear each and every sound that Giyuu let out. Every breathy gasp and quiet whimper were easily picked up by you, driving you forward.
Giyuu bit down on his bottom lip out of pure instinct. He was practically in heaven, or so he thought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself- or you, from continuing the passion that was slowly unfolding in this quaint bedroom; hidden away from the rest of Japan.
“Please, more.” he whispers to you in an almost bashful tone. You knew exactly what he desired and you weren’t about to deny your beautiful human anything, at least not yet. So you obey, unbuckling his belt and “accidentally” brushing your hand against the prominent bulge in his dark black pants.
Each touch of that nature had the water hashira tensing and sucking in a breath of surprise and need. You just had this air about you; it was driving him insane. If you could just do it, touch him there; where he needs it-
Giyuu squeaks at the soft smack that was laid against his now bare thigh. Your hand was quick to rub the soft skin there, of course; but it served as a reminder to be good, to not go off on his own. He needs to listen to you, of course he does; he has no idea what to do.
“Shh, just follow my lead. Listen, baby.” you mutter in reply to his soft pleading sounds. Giyuu swallows before nodding his head, he knows that he has to be good for you to get what he wants, somehow.
Ah, but it was so hard! He was sitting in your lap in only his fundoshi, rolling his hips at a pace you control and to top it off you were still fully clothed. Giyuu merely buried his face even more so against your neck, choosing to stay quiet.
But that just wouldn’t do, would it? No; he needs to voice what he wants with you. You shift him in your lap, placing your thigh between his own so that he can get more friction against his bulge as you whisper teasingly in his ear.
“You want something, what is it?” he tenses slightly as his cheeks flush more. He should’ve known that you would figure it out; after all he wasn’t good at hiding anything from you, clearly. Swallowing his shyness after a moment he replies,
“You still.. Have all your clothing on…” so that was what he was thinking about? How sweet. You chuckle in light amusement before giving him one guided hip roll against your thigh.
“Then take it off.” you reply without missing a beat, making the hashira pause and look up at you with slightly glazed over blue eyes and a confused expression on his face. However that confusion soon turns into blush as he looks down- avoiding your gaze as he nods his head.
With trembling hands he pulls both your kimono and under-kimono open, revealing your chest to his flustered but oh so hungry gaze. You had removed your haori long before settling down in bed with the hashira so now all that remained was your kimono, obi and hakama pants.
Next Giyuu unties your obi with unsure hands. You take the fabric from him and look into his eyes, clearly uninterested in what becomes of it because of the lust that was starting to get to you.
The hashira swallows before continuing to help you undress and slowly, piece by piece, your stunning body is revealed.
But he can’t have all of the fun, can he? So you toy with the edge of his fundoshi for a little while, making Giyuu blush even further before eventually pulling it off. The hashira instinctually covers his erection with his hands, embarrassment flooding through his face.
You smirk softly and take his hands in yours, bringing them away from covering anything. You lay soft kisses on his knuckles as well, smiling at the way he was blushing because of it.
A soft whisper, or rather plea of your name here and there, had your patience nearly snapping. But you had to remind yourself that your baby didn’t know any better, not yet. Giyuu was just calling out for you, wanting you closer, wanting more of your touch; wanting more of you.
“Press your back to my chest.” you instruct in a calm voice, Why were you so calm and collected? Giyuu was blushing so much that he thought his skin was on fire at this point. You really were going to ruin him; though he obeys nonetheless. With his back flush against your chest you wrap your arms loosely around his waist.
You slide one hand to his erect cock while the other trails further up, playing with one of his soft pink nipples.
A light pinch with the first stroke of his cock has Giyuu’s hands flying up to cover his mouth. But even then he isn’t able to hide his squeal from you. You rub your hand up and down the length of his dick, occasionally circling his tip with the pad of your thumb.
“None of that now, darlin’. I want to hear every sound you make.” you whisper, your voice almost a soft hiss. You had to resist being just a bit harsher in your words with him because you knew Giyuu wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
Besides, you had other things planned for tonight…
Giyuu nods meekly as he lowers his hands, instead balling them up into fists as your hand picks up its pace. Another moan is pulled out of the hashira as you give his nipple a sharp tug.
Ah, his bare shoulder is just too tempting for you to not bite… So you lean in and sink your teeth, albeit quite gently for a demon, into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from him.
“HnGAH?!~” another bite, another squeal or cry. It was an addicting cycle but you eventually began licking over the marks you had already left, not wanting to be too rough quite yet. Your hand also never stopped, driving Giyuu closer and closer to orgasming.
Your fingers leave his chest to press against his lips, coaxing him to suck on them and coat them with his saliva. For what? He doesn’t know yet; though he will soon. He arches his back, hipping bucking into your hand as he feels the coil about to snap.
“Close, close!~” is all of the muffled warning you get before the hashira comes, pearly white cum staining your hand. You hum, bringing it to your lips to taste much to Giyuu’s embarrassment.
“Mmpfh!” he protests, wordlessly, due to the fingers currently playing with his tongue. You merely hum in response, finding the taste of your darling to be quite pleasant. Looking down into his flustered eyes makes you chuckle softly before giving him a kiss on the head in response.
“Sorry, hun. Couldn’t resist tasting you.” you chuckle quietly before pulling the two fingers you had in the hashira’s mouth out. They were thoroughly coated in saliva now and perfect for what you intended to use them for.
You let Giyuu get another whine out before flipping him to lay with his chest flush against yours once again.
Giyuu can’t help but feel quite comfortable in this position, being able to hold onto you- practically hug you all while feeling your bare skin against his was something he was never going to get tired of.
Your dry hand slowly finds its place on Giyuu’s perky ass, giving it a few rubs before lightly pressing your two wet fingers against his hole.
He sucks in a nervous breath, never having been penetrated before; only jacking off when he was alone at times. But you’re there to soothe his worries, of course you are. You’ve been so sweet to him this entire time.
“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll go slow, okay?” you murmur in a soft voice before laying another gentle kiss on the hashira’s forehead. Giyuu nods his head as he looks up at you with wide trusting eyes, squeezing them shut when you push your finger in, burying the first knuckle in his warmth. He was grateful you were adding them one at a time as he wasn’t sure if he could take them in from the beginning at once.
“Ngh.. ahn~” his moans are like little mumbles as he smushes his face into your chest, hands holding onto your back as he pushes back on your finger slightly.
Soon enough another knuckle is in him, then another until your middle finger is completely inside.
Giyuu shifts his hips slightly, trying to get used to the sensation of having something inside him like this.
“I’m going to add another finger, alright?” you warn quietly, only acting when Giyuu gives a little nod in response. You slowly ease your middle finger out of him before readjusting so that both your middle and ring fingers slip into the first knuckle. Giyuu lets out a soft hum of pleasure, shifting his hips to let you know that he wants you to continue.
And you do, you ease those two fingers until they’re fully inside of him and at that point the hashira is moaning softly into your chest. You kiss the top of his head as you begin moving them in and out at a nice and slow pace, allowing him to get used to the sensations he’s receiving.
Your fingers work diligently, pressing deep within him every time you move them back in. Occasionally you spread them apart to loosen his muscles, to which he lets out a moan or whine, depending on the distance between your fingers.
Soon enough the tips of your fingers pad against a soft little bump that causes Giyuu to squeal and arch his back without warning. His eyes fly open for a moment before his body shudders and once more clings onto your own.
“Is that where it feels the best?” you ask him, not expecting to receive an answer as your fingers prod away at that sensitive spot. Giyuu can’t answer, his voice too busy being used for moans and whines from the stimulation he was receiving at your hand; or rather, fingers.
Though, to your surprise Giyuu manages a slight nod in response to your question. How sweet… you just had to tease him a little bit, of course. So you press nice and firmly against that spot, not taking your fingers off  like before.
“NYAGH!~ Whu-wai-” his moans are like a sweet melody to your ears, he’s begging, pleading with you. It’s too much, he really isn’t used to these types of touches.
So when you finally return to your normal pace he slumps down against your chest again, whining and whimpering to himself.
You eventually find that he’s been stretched enough, though you’re still thoughtful about how his body will react to the real thing. So you reach over to the nightstand and retrieve a bottle of oil.
You pour a decent amount onto his already twitching hole, noticing how he squirms slightly from the feeling. You kiss him on the forehead, whispering a soft reassurance before spreading the oil along his walls.
His hands still grab at your arms, your chest, your back; whatever he can get at he’s instantly clinging onto. He whines softly when you remove your fingers, having grown used to the sensations they provided.
“It’s okay, darling..” you whisper in his ear, your voice calm with barely concealed lustful hunger. A soft sigh makes its way from Giyuu’s lips, signaling the fact he was quite content in your arms.
However a soft gasp does slip past his lips as he feels your tip pressing teasingly against his slick and oiled rim, as if you did such a thing just to hear him moan more.
Your teasing movement was met with a tremor of Giyuu’s legs and his face being pressed against your neck. It was sweet that he was acting so shyly when only a few moments ago he had pleaded with you, whispering your name in that breathy voice of his.
But you could only tease Giyuu for so long, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take much of it without proper training.
So you gently grab ahold of his hips, squeezing them lightly as you guide him to slide down on your cock. A choked whine sounds from Giyuu’s lips as his hands squeeze you, holding on for dear life.
“Ah! Feels.. W-weird.. Mngh..” he slurs into your neck, hands still squeezing you as tightly as he could manage. You hum softly in response, eyes focusing on the hashira’s hips.
Giyuu shifts around in your lap, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. Soft whimpers leave his lips every time you readjust him slightly, getting him into place.
“Hngh.. move? P-please?” He asks, innocent eyes looking up into your own demonic inscribed one. How adorable. He was just too cute to say no to.
You hum and place a lingering kiss on Giyuu’s already sweaty forehead as you buck your hips up into him.
Soon enough you move your beauty onto the bed so that he can relax on his back, arms and legs wrapped around your body as you move your hips at a slow and smooth pace.
You thrust your hips forward, driving your cock into the hashira’s tight heat again and again so that you can soak up the sweet moans Giyuu lets out. They’re heavenly to listen to, sounding like a siren’s call.
“Good boy, you’re doing so good.” you whisper in his ear as your hips keep moving, continuing to thrust your cock deep into his hole.
Heat spreads over Giyuu’s cheeks as he clenches around your dick at the praise, making you unable to resist pressing a kiss to his soft lips again.
He bucks his hips up to meet your every thrust as you pick up the pace you were moving at, now bullying his prostate perfectly.
“Mnghh~ close…” he murmurs between moans that continue to grow in volume, signifying the truth behind his words.
“I know baby, I know.” you reply with a few more strong thrusts of your hips, driving Giyuu closer and closer to his peak.
With one more harder movement of your hips Giyuu let out a wail, cum spurting from the tip of his cock as his nails dug into your back.
You made the choice to not allow yourself to heal the marks that the demon slayer was leaving on your back, you wanted to be able to admire them in the morning after all.
However you don’t stop your hips there, no. Giyuu was just too cute and warm for you to be able to control yourself. The hashira let out a startled moan before sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his sounds.
He only let go to whine out, “t’much! ‘Soo m-muhhch!~” How sweet. It was adorable to hear him whine about everything being too intense for him to handle but at the same time thrusting his own hips up to meet your harsh pounding.
Tears cascade down the Hashira’s face, making him seem even more pathetically cute than before. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as you hit that sweet spot over and over again, causing his dick to harden once more.
He can feel himself growing closer despite having come not that long ago. You were just too good, too perfectly attuned to all of his needs.
A second orgasm rips through him, causing him to arch his back and let out a filthy moan that's soon silenced by your lips connecting with his. It's so much, it's too much!
Giyuu feels like he’s drowning in the best pleasure imaginable. Though he expects you to stop now, after all you’ve gotten him to cum twice tonight and that's quite a lot for him, at least.
But you don’t, you keep going and even pick up your pace slightly. It punches sweet little “Uh uh uh”’s out of the poor thing, making it clear to you that he’s too fucked out to whine about it.
Your hand comes down to hold onto his chin, making him look up at you with that oh so pretty fucked out expression of his.
“Hm, you can take another round, can’t you baby?” you ask, the question obviously rhetorical as both him and you know that his brain is too mushy to answer you.
Instead Giyuu gives a weak whine of protest before holding onto you tighter. Though, his body is a stark contrast of the complaint he had just let out; he’s wiggling his hips, urging you to continue moving your own.
So with a soft chuckle you continue, slamming your cock deep into him, ramming so far inside that Giyuu swears that he’s seeing stars.
“AHN!- mnHN~.. ‘Omgohhhdddd!-" The hashira’s voice is broken up by his heavenly moans, unable to stop himself as you continue giving all the pleasure that you could possibly give him.
Your stamina is downright insane, though what could Giyuu expect. After all, you are one of the higher ranking uppermoon demons.
Even then, you can feel your pace slipping as your thrusts grow sloppier- more intense in pace and less like the strong, deep and practiced ones you had done prior.
“‘M close, baby. Want me to fill you up some more, Giyuu? Hmm?” You murmur into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you breathe in Giyuu’s intoxicating scent.
Giyuu nods fervently in response as he screws his deep blue eyes shut. His cheeks are all rosy and stained with dried tear marks, making him all the more adorable.
He hiccups as you finally slow your pace, hips moving slower as you cradle his shaking body close to your own.
Oh? It appeared he had cum for a third time from that sloppy pace. What a sensitive thing he is.
You kiss Giyuu’s forehead, finding it drenched in sweat with his black bangs sticking to his. He looks up at you with a dazed look when you finally slow to a stop before closing his eyes again.
A smile finds its way onto your lips as you pull out of him, making him gasp, arching his back for one last time.
Giyuu whines softly, opening those tired eyes of his again as he searches for your touch.
“Mmngh.. Stay…” The hashira murmurs, calling out for you in that sweet and quiet voice of his.
How could you refuse? So of course you wrap yourself around his weakened body.
You use a soft cloth you dipped in the lukewarm water that had been sitting out in a glass to clean the cum from Giyuu’s tummy. 
Your touch is gentle as you clean him up as best you can for the moment, after all the poor thing was much too tired for a proper wash.
In return the hashira snuggles up to you, peppering shy kisses to your neck as a thank you for the night as he was much too tired to talk.
You release a quiet purr in return, it's a sweet and gentle sound which makes it soothing for Giyuu to listen to.
The hashira curls up properly after you set the cloth down, feeling quite content to be wrapped in your arms like this.
He falls asleep quite quickly, clearly your shared night of intimacy had gotten to him quite quickly.
You merely smile and lay another kiss on him, this time to the top of Giyuu’s head.
“How sweet…” You whisper to yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to prolong this… relationship.
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burnednotburied · 21 days
Text
"You're My People"
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AO3 Link
Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader
Synopsis: You and Abby take refuge in an abandoned house to catch your breath and attempt to recover after the encounter with Ellie in the theater.
Tags: slight angst; hurt/comfort; mentions of death and blood; tending to injuries; (mostly) unspoken romantic feelings; reader is a young woman (same age as Abby)
Note: To be absolutely 100% clear, the reader is NOT meant to be Lev or Yara. Reader is a woman (about the same age as Abby) who met Abby on Seattle Day 1 when she was also meeting Lev and Yara. The four of them stuck together. None of this is super relevant for this story. (Just know that Yara was with them, but she was killed just as she was in the game, and Lev is around here somewhere.)
I have a lot of ideas for this character/storyline. It’s likely that I will continue to flesh things out in future fics, so I’ll leave the rest of the story to be explained later.
I put reader in many of the same scenarios as Lev was in the game, sometimes removing Lev altogether for the sake of the story. But reader obviously has a very different type of relationship with Abby than Lev ever would (or should) have.
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“Don’t ever let me see you again.”
That’s what Abby had said to that girl – Ellie – before walking away without so much as a backwards glance.
You had quietly followed Abby out of the theater, because what else could you do, but you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel about what you just saw.
Watching Abby incapacitate one man and shoot another in the face without hesitating. Seeing her beat Ellie into the floor while she lay there motionless.
And the other woman. The one who was pregnant…
“Good,” Abby had seethed when Ellie told her. She almost seemed happy about it. Happy to repay the wrong that was done to Mel. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
If you hadn’t called out Abby’s name when you did, dragging her from the haze that was her desire for retribution…
Well, you could guess what would’ve happened.
You were just glad the two of you had decided not to bring Lev with you. That he was somewhere safe.
Neither of you spoke a word as you navigated through the dark streets of Seattle, her leading the way with you following quietly behind, just as you had been doing since you met. Although now you may have allowed for a bit more space between the two of you than you did before, trailing further behind. Lost in thought.
It had been three days since you met, but it felt like so much longer. A nagging voice in your head insisted that you really didn’t know Abby very well, despite how it felt.
She hadn’t given you any reason not to trust her. She had never hurt you. In fact, she had fought so hard to keep you and (more importantly) Lev and Yara safe. She had even turned against her own people, killed her own people, for the sake of protecting you.
No, that wasn’t right.
Those weren’t Abby’s people anymore.
“You’re my people.”
Abby had looked so earnest when she said it back on the Seraphite island just hours before. And you had believed her.
The words left you with a feeling deep in your chest that was hard to describe. You thought it might’ve been… belonging. Something you’d been hoping for but never found. You’d always wanted to truly belong to something.
Or someone.
There hadn’t been any time to dwell on the feelings or what they meant.
And now all you feel is a pit in your stomach.
Why were you so shaken up? This is stupid. You’ve killed before, and you’ve watched Abby kill.
But this felt different. It wasn’t self-defense. It wasn’t necessary. It was dark and angry and honestly terrifying. She was honestly terrifying.
But it was justified, wasn’t it? You could argue that maybe it was necessary.
Ellie had been hunting Abby for days, killing her friends and seemingly anything else in her path.
Ellie killed Owen.
You weren’t sure of the exact history between him and Abby, but you did know how important he was to her. And you had seen the look on her face when she found him dead.
Who’s to say Ellie would’ve ever stopped coming after Abby and the people close to her? Who’s to say she’ll even stop now?
You’re just beginning to arrange your fractured, contradicting thoughts in a way that makes sense when Abby comes to a sudden stop in front of you. You would’ve run into her if she hadn’t stretched her hand out behind her in warning.
“We need to stop. Get out of the rain. Regroup.” Her voice is strained.
You hadn’t really even noticed that it started raining again, harder this time, but you can walk in the rain. Lev is alone, waiting for the two of you to return.
You open your mouth to protest, only to shut it again when Abby turns to face you fully. She’s balancing her weight unevenly, heavily favoring her right leg. A significant bloodstain runs all the way down to her left ankle. And her face…  
The pregnant girl had come from nowhere, attacking Abby from behind. She managed to slash across Abby’s cheek with a knife before you took her down with an arrow through the shoulder. It had been your only real contribution to the fighting in the theater, but it had been unavoidable. Abby had been in danger.
Now she’s standing in front of you, soaked from head to toe, from the rain and with blood, and you have no idea how much of that blood is hers, but there are definitely some significant injuries that need to be tended to.
Abby takes in your silence and your wide-eyed stare for a moment before shifting a little in place and clearing her throat. “Um… we can try in there. Yeah? The houses here should all be deserted.” She gestures weakly to the building closest to you.
You finally find your voice. “Yes, yeah. Let’s—let’s go in there.”
You pull your gaze away from Abby’s and walk past her, toward the small house, pulling your bow from where it rests over your shoulder and notching an arrow in the string. It suddenly occurs to you that you’ve walked all this way without your weapon drawn while Abby was injured and unarmed. For a moment, you’re glad that the Wolves and the Seraphites are too distracted fighting each other elsewhere to be roaming around in this area. Or else you and Abby would probably have been killed by now, both of you practically stumbling through the streets like a couple of vulnerable, mindless children.
You shake your head, silently scolding yourself and promising to be more alert, starting right now with sweeping the house.
The front door is mostly intact and slightly ajar. You approach carefully, painstakingly forcing it further open with your shoulder, fighting against rusted hinges and warped wood. The floorboards creak beneath your boots as you step inside, quickly scanning the entryway for anything or anyone that poses a threat. Abby follows behind you, trying not to visibly limp on her injured leg and holding up a small flashlight taken from the aquarium.
“Come on. You need to sit down,” you say over your shoulder, just loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain outside. For a moment, it looks like she might argue with you, maybe insist that she make sure the building’s clear first, but she seems to decide against it, giving you a quick nod of her head in response.
With your bow still drawn, you lead the way through the first floor of the building, passing a bathroom and a kitchen before arriving in what was once the living room. The room is filled with furniture in various levels of destruction and decay, somehow the most well-preserved among them being an old couch pressed against the back wall.
You point to it. “Sit,” you tell Abby. The fact that she listens and moves toward the couch without protest, albeit very slowly, is further proof of the extent of her injuries and her level of exhaustion. “I’m going to check the rest of the house, okay? I’ll be back. Don’t move.”
Abby lets out a scoff, immediately followed by a second, more pained noise. “I couldn’t go anywhere if I wanted to.” An attempt at a joke, made through gritted teeth. You give her a hesitant, worried look, long enough that she forces a small smile and attempts to reassure you with, “I’m fine. Go.”
She’s lying and you know that, but you don’t have much of a choice. You turn to go quickly search the house.
The second floor is clear of any discernible threats but also of anything that would be useful in helping Abby. On your way back to the living room, you rummage through the downstairs bathroom and a couple of mostly empty coat closets in hopes of finding something. Medical supplies. Even clean cloths.
You find nothing there and move on to your last hope, the kitchen. This room is even more ransacked than the rest of the house, and still, you don’t find what you’re looking for.
“Ugh,” you loudly groan, clasping your hands together on the back of your neck and casting your gaze upward in frustration.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Abby quickly asks from the other room, sounding ready to jump up off the couch and rush to your rescue even in her current condition. It makes you smile until you remember that this is no time to be smiling.
“It’s nothing. The house is clear. I was just looking for some medical supplies.”
“Who needs medical supplies?” she asks, trying her hand at a second joke. This time you let yourself smile for just a second.
“You do, Abby,” you say, “You need medical supplies. Urgently.” You’re still staring up like the answer will be written up there if you just look hard enough, when something in the space between the one of the top cabinets and the ceiling catches your eye. If you’re not mistaken, it looks like the corner of a first aid kit.
It’s too high for you to reach standing, and there’s nothing for you to stand on top of. The countertops are broken, the pieces scattered across the room, and the wood of the lower cabinets is rickety and unstable at best.
You’re grumbling under your breath about damn high ceilings and unnaturally tall cabinets as you reenter the living room to find Abby almost exactly where you left her, left leg now up on the couch and elevated, right foot still on the floor. Both of her hands are hovering over the gash in her thigh, like she’s not sure if she should touch it or not, her face tense and focused. She’s in pain.
You pull your eyes away and look for something sturdy enough for you to stand on, eventually deciding on a mostly intact, only slight wobbly small metal table.
“Do you really think now is the best time to rearrange the furniture, honey?” Abby asks, glancing at you in her periphery. She’s joking again, and you know that, but you can’t help the warmth that pools in your cheeks at her use of the affectionate pet-name.
“I--“ You clear your throat, “I need something to stand on. I think I found something in the kitchen.”
“Aww, you can’t reach the top shelf by yourself?” Abby asks, amused. She turns her attention from her leg to watch as you drag the table out of the room. It squeaks along the floor the entire way, making her laugh softly.
 The fact that she’s being playful with you starts to ease your lingering panic about her many ailments. If she’s cracking jokes, she can’t be that close to dying, right?
“Crazy how you’ve lost like half your blood supply, and yet you still have enough energy to tease me,” you say, your own teeth gritted now. The table is much heavier than you anticipated. “And, for your information, the thing that I’m trying to get is not on the top shelf. It is above the top shelf. On top of the cabinet.”
“Uh huh. Sure… Take your time. I’m just over here, casually bleeding out.”
“Well, I’m no doctor. But I’m pretty sure that if the knife had hit any major arteries, you would’ve bled out a long time ago. So you’ll be fine for another minute. Probably.” With one final shove, you manage to get the table where you want it.
You carefully step up on the table, hoping that some sadistic asshole didn’t throw an empty first aid kit all the way up there just to waste the time and energy of some poor, desperate fool in need of medical supplies. (You, of course, being that poor desperate fool.)
After brushing off a thick layer of dust, you grab the handle. The kit is full.
“Yes!” you shout, nearly stumbling off the table in your excitement.
Abby can tease you all she wants and try to make light of the situation, but she can’t hide the look of relief that washes over her features when she sees what you’re carrying.
And, if you were paying closer attention to her face, she also wouldn’t have been able to mask the way her eyes go wide and her cheek – the one that’s not covered in blood – gets visibly pink when you get on your knees in front of her. “Uhhh hey, you can—you can sit on the couch.”
You raise your eyebrows, confused by her sudden nervousness. “No, the angle will be better this way,” you insist. “Just bring your leg over here.” She concedes, avoiding eye contact as you help her maneuver her injured leg so that her foot is back on the floor, practically between your knees.
There’s already a tear in her pant leg where the gash is. So to avoid having Abby stand up and take her pants off or cutting all the way around at mid-thigh, leaving her with half a pair of pants for the foreseeable future, you opt to just rip the fabric a little more on either side of the tear.
But you have a bad habit of occasionally thinking about something and then doing it, forgetting the often necessary in-between step of alerting the people around you to what you’re going to do first. You take the already-ripped fabric of her pants in your hands and tear, successfully making a hole large enough for you to properly clean and dress the wound.
The sound Abby makes when you do this surprises you. It’s almost sounds like a whimper—a noise that you don’t think you’ve ever heard her make before. There’s a twisting heat in your gut that seems to be a recurring side effect of being close to Abby, which you choose to ignore in favor of focusing on the more urgent (and honestly less daunting and less complicated) task at hand.
She’s quiet as you get to work cleaning the gash. Wincing slightly but remaining still.
The cut is deep, but as you expected it missed the femoral artery. You would have to stitch it up, though, and you told Abby as such. She nodded and watched you carefully as you quickly prepared, hoping to get this part over with as quickly as possible.
You moved even closer to her. Abby’s shin gently pressed against your front as you leaned over her knee, bringing your face closer, your movements precise and intentional.
Abby brings her hands down on either side of her legs, bracing herself. Her shoulders tense, muscles engaged. You have to tear your eyes away. Focus. You look back down at her thigh.
As you work, a strand of your hair falls from where you had tucked it behind your ear and into your face. You let out a light, annoyed huff. Before you attempt to blow the strand out of your eyeline, Abby’s fingers gently brush it back behind your ear. You feel yourself blush deeply, saying a quiet thank you before going back to sewing her up.
When the last stitch is done and you’ve carefully wrapped the wound, you feel Abby’s fingers run through your hair again, this time for no other reason but to draw your eyes up to meet hers.
“Come up here,” she says, her voice low. You stand, bringing the first aid kit with you, and feel the springs in the cushions creak beneath you as you sit on the couch, facing her, closer than is probably necessary. Before either one of you says anything else, you begin gently wiping away the blood surrounding the cut on her cheek, cleaning around the wound.
It's clear to you now that her wounds weren’t quite as detrimental as you had feared. With her leg sown up, her face was the only other thing that required your attention. Most everything else was superficial and would heal on its own. The rain had done a poor job of washing away all the blood, but it seems that much less of that blood had come from her than you had anticipated anyway.
“I can do that,” Abby says in a whisper, watching your face as you carefully and meticulously clean hers.
“I know,” you reply, just as quiet. “I want to.”
A few moments go by in silence until Abby once again breaks it.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” she begins, quickly adding, “Not sorry that I did it, but sorry that you had to… see me that way.” Her eyes are downcast. You know it’s weighing on her. Not just everything that happened today, but the fear that what happened could have a lasting effect on this thing you two have only just started to build. Call it trust or friendship or maybe something else entirely.
You shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad I was there. You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.” Abby nods, but you know it doesn’t do much to assuage her worries.
You still don’t understand what happened back in the theater. Or why it happened. Part of you wants to ask for the history now. How she knows Ellie. Why she wants Abby dead.
Maybe in time she will tell you, but you’ve already decided to trust her. To lean into whatever this thing between you is, and whatever it might become.
So instead, you ask another question that’s been in the back of your mind.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” You pull your hand away from her face, finished cleaning the cut there. It may form a scar, but it doesn’t seem deep enough to warrant stitches. (And you’re not brave enough to try, on her lovely face so close to her eye.)
Abby smiles softly, leaning forward just a bit to bring your faces closer together. “You’re going to have to be more specific, honey.”
That pet-name again. It makes your head spin. Makes you want to close the already shrinking distance between you and press your lips to hers. But you don’t do that. Instead, you explain, “On the island. When you said that… I’m your people.” You pause, hesitating over the last few words.
Abby stops for a moment, almost looking confused, and you start to spiral internally. You realize that it was probably just something she said in the heat of the moment. To calm you down and get you to keep moving, towards safety. You wish you could take your question back, retract your stupid words. Swallow them up and hide them inside you, along with your ever-growing feelings.
Abby finally answers. “Yeah. Of course I meant it. You’re my people.”
“Yeah?” You break out into a grin.
She nods, smiling and sincere. “Yeah.”
It’s that one, small word that makes you close the distance between you. Not to kiss her, but to gently rest your forehead against hers. Abby seems stunned, like maybe she was expecting the other thing, or hoping for it, but she recovers quickly, closing her eyes and maintaining the physical contact. You close your eyes too.
“You’re my people too, Abigail Anderson.” You can feel her laugh quietly and open your eyes, pulling away just enough to see her face again. “So… where do we go from here?”
“Santa Barbara, California,” she says. You remember overhearing part of a conversation about that between Abby and Owen yesterday. You figured that’s where she would be heading; you had just hoped to be given the chance to tag along. But you guess you didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
So you nod your head thoughtfully. “Sounds good… Sunny.”
“Hmm, yeah. That’s what I hear.” You’re both smiling. Happy, strangely enough, given the circumstances.
“Abby…”
“Hmmm?”
“We are going back to get Lev before we leave though, right?”
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Note: If you read all of that, THANK YOU! This is the first fanfic I’ve written—and the first time I’ve written at all in a long time—so this is me dipping my toes in the water.
It definitely ended up being a lot longer and a lot less spicy than I anticipated, but I wrote what came naturally. I hope to continue this storyline, likely backtracking to when Abby and reader met, so we’ll be seeing more of these two. We’ll get to the fun stuff eventually!
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lionheartedmusings · 3 months
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bear with me bc this is gonna be a bit of a long one, but i've seen folks talking about how they're excited to get the horrors back on the qsmp and while i totally agree that i miss those blood-curdling, creepy, uncanny valley sort of scenes... i think the beauty of the overall storyline (as much as it's execution can be criticised ) is that we as the audience are seeing things in a vacuum.
the qsmp storyline is a living breathing player alongside our povs, and while we're aware of that, we're also not always engaging with it. we're getting swept up in the day-to-day of it all and getting lulled into a sense of security that ultimately makes us unable to truly comprehend the horror of the last few months until we take a step back and analyze it bit by bit.
children went missing in the night, leaving only their identifiers behind on empty beds. there were no leads. people looked and looked, and found nothing. parents were mad with concern and grief, and the all-seeing, all-powerful entity that rules their lives trapped in this hamster wheel of an island has no answers.
then, the items left behind on those beds vanish too.
then, there's mind-controlling, happiness inducing drugs being pumped into people against their will. still no news of the children. people are falling apart at the seams.
people are led to a maze where a wheel is spun and everything they have left of the children of this godforsaken island is gone. burned up. what does it mean? no one knows. they have to live on.
suddenly, a game is played. a clone of a dead child shows up, leading some of them into the same maze, forcing them to walk through a maze of doors and corridors, only to find a game of dice orchestrated by an unknown entity.
new people arrive, bearing witness to the hopeless, grim, sad reality of everyone who was already there. there's hope — there's always hope — but my god the pain is overwhelming.
there's clues, but there's not. the government keeping them trapped here against their will still has no answers, nothing to point them in the right direction.
faceless bears go missing.
faceless bodies show up on the streets. bloodied. dead. eaten.
suddenly, there's thunder and lightning and oh! oh, their children! of course they'll get on the train, that's where the children are!
but they're hijacked. stolen. once again, their autonomy is stripped entirely as another entity with power they cannot comprehend forces them to split into factions and compete for... something. their children's lives are on the line and they maim and kill those they call family because they fear they have no choice.
everyone went through hell — purgatory was a bad title for what they went through. it was hell, with no salvation in sight.
when all is said and done, when all the murder and backstabbing is over, they see their children through glass they cannot break. one escapes because chance said so, and the rest are left behind as the ceiling collapses on them.
the world is ending and their salvation is one singular boat a thousand blocks away. lovers can't say goodbye, friends run for their lives together, a father and a son dash desperately with no hope in sight. some stay behind, through choice or chance.
the government official that has made their life hell returns the children to them, and brings some new ones. those new children get carted off to new parents without option (again) and suddenly everything's supposed to be fine! nevermind your friends are gone! nothing to see here!
behind the scenes, the all-seeing all-knowing government is breaking apart, there's something far more horrifying and twisted at play in the background... but it's nothing the islanders can help with. nothing they can do. they have to live on and pretend their golden cage is fine and dandy bc at the end of the day, it's their only option.
one-eyed creatures show up demanding something "of theirs" back and bc humanity is strong, one islander refuses to hand someone kind and innocent off to them.
it dooms them, as their humanity has every single time.
now, they're under attack and they can barely defend themselves despite months of prep and having amazing gear — again, they try their hardest but everything is stacked against them. they fight, and fight, but their children are on the line and that's their main concern.
every fight? there's bodies littering the ground and panicked screams. explosions. chainsaws revving, and worry, and it's a war ten times a week.
a child loses a life, and now it's personal, but what can they do? no one listens to them, no one has ever listened to them.
and in the middle of all of this? their family is still gone, trapped in a wasteland, or missing, or... dead.
there was no funeral for q!maxo bc there's no stopping to smell the roses on quesadilla island, not really. where's slime? where's pol? where's the people who they haven't seen yet? gone, yes, but they don't have time to stop and worry about them. they don't have time to mourn losses and grieve their dead.
luffy, who came to try and help their friends, was stolen and hurt.
those eyeball workers? they were people once, maybe good people. maybe the best people we never got to meet, but they got shifted and changed into something monstrous and out of their control.
my point being: the story that the qsmp is telling is innately horrifying. it's not just creepy — it's twisted, and tragic, and absolutely terrifying. it's about loss of agency and running on an endless hamster wheel of someone else's making, and how you just sort of... live with it after a while.
and i think that's really fucking cool, because like these characters we too get used to the tragedy of life, little by little, and forget to see the whole thing from a bird's eye view (pun intended).
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lullabestie14 · 1 month
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Found this comment on Reddit. Couldn’t explain it better than this.
“It’s clear from Mist and Fury that the original ships were: Feysand, Nessian, Elucien, and Mor/Azriel. Like it’s so obvious the way she wrote Mor and Azriel; Mor even seems vaguely interested/torn about Az. Looking at interviews, SJM even talks about Elucien as a couple (eg where would they like to travel together, etc).
Flash forward to ACOWAR. For whatever reason (lack of chemistry with Az, wanting more diversity) SJM has Mor say that she prefers women. This time the Az-pining-for-Mor is more desperate/feels like a zero chance of being requited. SJM also introduces Az as a potential love interest for Elain because she loves throwing a wrench. Just because Elucien are mates doesn’t mean they’ll have it easy; SJM’s whole thing is angst. She had to throw in a love triangle to make it uncertain. This is the first couple where mate status is confirmed upon meeting.
But there’s a problem now. If Az and Mor are no longer endgame, who will they end up with? is it not suspicious that the two new characters introduced in SF (Gwyn and Emerie) just HAPPEN to be potentially be good partners for Az and Mor? Like it’s not a coincidence that Emerie looks at Mor and blushes, remarking how pretty she is. It’s not a coincidence that Az and Gwyn have so many interactions in the text. It’s not a coincidence that a “random side character” shows up in a bonus chapter.
When SJM created Gwyn and Emerie, it wasn’t just to give Nesta friends. These characters clearly didn’t exist when she wrote MAF. SJM wanted new characters that would solve her retcon of ending Az/Mor. She wanted to solve the Mor/Az retcon so bad that she created a NEW RETCON of Az going to Sangravah. Like why bother to add that detail if it’s not important.
Also: poor Lucien. His endgame heroine was supposed to be Nesta until SJM realized they would be terrible together and that Nessian had better chemistry. So she gives Elucien the mating bond. Like is she really going to fuck Lucien over TWICE? She loves him as a character and has put him through the wringer. Yes, I agree that SJM can change her mind and maybe is open to mate rejection, but Lucien has already switched love interests from Nesta to Elain! Who else is he going to switch to, considering that Jurian and Vassa are “at each other’s throats?”
Finally, please think about the number of books left. Ignoring novellas (which are probably gonna be fluffy ones like ACOFAS where nothing happens), there are two main books left. Two couples.
Option A:
• ⁠Gwynriel (Valkyrie growth, Illyrian rebellion, exploring Ramiel, Gwyn’s autumn heritage and maybe lightsinger?? powers)
• ⁠Elucien (Helion secret baby, defeating Koschei, freeing Vassa, fixing spring court)
Option B
• ⁠Elriel (mate rejection storyline, potentially some stuff above)
• ⁠?????
Literally WHO is the second book in this equation? Lucien and Vassa?? We barely know Vassa and there’s barely any connection to Night Court. And Lucien’s book is going to be depressing as fuck dealing with mate rejection; does anyone want to read two heavy books of rejection? Jurian and Vassa: again, we barely know them! At least with Tower of Dawn, Chaol had been a main character for a long time with POV. SJM will not do a full-length Emerie/Mor book as much as I would love for one. She’s very cognizant of criticism re: Mor bi rep in the past; she doesn’t want to open a can of worms and be accused of writing bad sapphic rep. If anything, I can see a fluffy Emerie/Mor novella with little angst (or them getting together in the background of other books).
So from a meta structural level, I don’t understand who the second couple will be if Elriel is endgame. Lucien/Vassa is the most plausible answer, but 1) we barely know Vassa, 2) she’s human and Lucien is immortal. So are we going to toss her into the Cauldron to make her immortal? Serious question, and 3) I don’t want TWO books about mate rejection, it’s depressing as hell. I can see one but not two.
But with Gwynriel and Elucien, you have enormous fan and audience interest in ALL FOUR CHARACTERS. They’re directly tied to Night Court and SJM so far has no intention of staying away from the core group.”
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izvmimi · 16 days
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cw: pop star!au. fem!reader with diva & tsun tendencies. sfw but suggestive. possibly may have more parts.
When you finally show up to the studio, having woken up hours past your expected alarm such that you had to skip your yoga and your poolside brunch, your assistant is not happy to see you in the least, and the rest of your camera crew is at least a little bit miffed.
And quite frankly, you don’t give a flying fuck. 
You’re about forty-five minutes late, but the fact of the matter is that the main attraction is you, and only you, and as one of the top international pop stars of the decade, you have gotten a little too comfortable with letting your whims set the tone of things. The hustle and bustle of the set however starts up again the moment you walk in, as your head assistant claps her hands and lets the crew know to set up cameras, makeup and outfitting to get ready to put you in their chair and turn you magical. 
You walk right up to her and give her a cheeky grin. 
“Sorry, I overslept.”
Aya wishes she could throw you out of the nearest window but settles to say slap a script in a sheet of paper into your chest.
“This is the plan for the music video. Read this and don’t piss me off.”
You frown as you take it from her then scan through the crumpled piece quickly. Your newest music video is supposed to be a bit sexier than usual, with a pretty generic storyline - you play a damsel in distress saved by a dashing hero, the trope subverted by the fact that you’re a succubus, far from someone to be saved. You’re excited for it, having played a little bit too close to sweetheart territory for so long, and it’ll be your first time having an actual top Hero as your love interest, unlike your prior models who were more props than anything else.
But there’s one issue.
You crinkle your nose in distaste.
“You got Deku!?”
Aya raises her eyebrow adjusting thick rimmed glasses as she repositions her stance as though she’s preparing for a fight, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Is there a problem?”
You groan dramatically, then rush past her, pretending to be aggravated as you make your way towards the breakfast spread that has remained untouched until you arrived and stuff a dry croissant in your mouth.
“I asked for a hot Hero! Sexy! I ask you to do your goddamn job and you hire a man with green Teletubby energy!”
Somebody beside you scoffs, and as the two of you glance in the worker’s directions, he’s unable to stifle his laughter before he walks off, pushing a cart of cleaning supplies with him. You twist your mouth to the side, hands on hips, then turn your attention back to Aya.
“So you’re telling me Dynamight, Red Riot, and Shoto were unavailable?”
Aya’s lips press into a thin line. Despite being your assistant, she’s still one of your closest confidantes and she bites back just as hard as you can, and as usual, she does so now.
“I said, don’t piss me off, Tinkerbell. I’ll have you know I spent a lot of extra time making sure to-” she stops chewing you out suddenly, her eyes wide, and you blink, then turn. 
Deku is standing right behind you, and you’re 100% certain he heard your exchange. If he’s upset, he doesn’t show it, instead he’s smiling sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. 
“I think Kacchan was a bit busy and uh… Shoto probably wouldn’t have done this anyway, he’s not the type. As for Red Riot… that I’m not really sure...,” he trails off, pensive.
You blink at him rapidly as you crane your neck to look at him.
Pro Hero Deku is a lot taller than he looks on television. His face is still boyish and friendly, the harmless look not necessarily limited to television, but when you take a look at the rest of his countenance, broad shouldered and thick, it’s clear that there’s a reason why he’s topping the charts currently.
Even if his soft look doesn’t particularly scream sex appeal. 
“Sorry you’re stuck with me.” He bows politely, hands pressed against the sides of his jeans. “Let’s work hard together!”
When he rises, he’s looking at you with hopeful anticipation, and the way his eyes practically glow with earnestness actually upsets you.
You open your mouth then close it. The diva persona of yours isn’t without an ounce of empathy, but he’s already getting on your nerves. You look at Aya who gives you the glare she does when she wants you to behave, but you’ve already stomped your foot and stormed away.
Frustrated and unsure why.
“I’ll be at my trailer, call me when we get started.”
The problem is that he’s hot, and you hate to be wrong.
The type of hot that makes your head spin when you’re too close, that makes you forget the words you’re supposed to be singing to him, that makes the fans that blow through your wig and flowing clothing not enough to manage the heat that runs through your body.
“Get closer!” the videographer screams behind the camera and you swallow thickly as Izuku moves first, crossing the already minimal distance between the two of you to wrap his arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. It’s supposed to be a romantic, protective pose, and he’s not looking at you but at the camera, but he’s so close, he smells good, his clothes are dramatically torn, ripped in the way you’d expect after a tense battle but artificially so. Your heart thumps as if he were protecting you for real, and you hope he can’t sense it, the disarray that’s running from your center to your fingertips as you try desperately to figure out where to put your hands. 
“___, can you please find a way to make this look more natural?” you’re being barked at by your greatest hater and favorite employee.
Aya, please shut the fuck up, you want to tell her, but Deku hasn’t let you go. 
“Next take.”
Deku finally releases you and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. He’s smiling, the makeup dust and grime and blood barely marring his handsome features, in fact accentuating them.
They didn’t have to make him look this good. You’re going to have a talk with the visual designer, this is getting ridiculous.
“Sorry, was that okay?” He’s still smiling, bashful as if he’s the one who can’t stop looking at you, and imagining how his hands would feel pressed against your chest, when it’s very clearly the reverse. You wonder for a moment how easily he attracts the opposite sex with this sweet boy act, as if the plentiful scars on his broad chest, littered over his arms and likely below the pants hanging low on his waist, creeping past the Adonis belt aren’t evidence that perhaps he’s not so toothless after all.
You want to practically smack him, he frustrates you so damn much.
“Adequate,” you answer. The director tells you to take five and you step away quickly, practically falling off the fake set rubble on your way down.
You can’t even stumble the way you want to, because Hero Deku is fast and is holding onto your arm before you can make your way down.
“You okay?”
Unwittingly, you give him a distressed look, and he lets go quickly, and you storm off.
“I’ll be in my trailer!” you announce again, while the workers grumble that you’re supposed to literally only take five.
Aya is chuckling to herself this time, because she’s clocked you a mile away.
Tinkerbell has a crush.
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