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#and then when I became an adult and got away and lived with other people with pets I realized how much people care about their pets and like
dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP fanfic idea: Big Fish in Gotham Pond
Based off of @saphushia art found here. . I just loved the idea of Tucker not knowing his skill level because he grew up in the boonies
Tucker gets scouted by Wayne Enterprises after he fixes a kid's computer game while in Gotham visiting Danny.
See, Tucker always known he is passable at tech- one has to be when a technology theme ghost is consistently harassing one's best friend- but to be good at something in a small town like Amity Park didn't mean much .
It's a big fish in a small pound sort of deal. That's why he's never put much thought into it. If Tucker were ever to rank himself in terms of school grades, he would say his computer skills were about a C-.
B+ if it was just coding.
His parents also don't think much of his obsession with his PDA or phones. They thought he waste too many hours on them like the rest of his generation.
It didn't matter that Tucker's technology was about five or more years behind his classmates.
The Foley were hard-working people who barely scraped enough for bills. They were never below the property line, but they danced on it often enough that Tucker knew never to ask for unnecessary purchases.
For as long as he could remember, his parents have always worked long and hard hours. He never blamed them for missing so much of his childhood, in fact he was grateful that they worked so hard to keep the roof over his head, but he did miss them.
That's why Danny's house became a haven for him. He was always at the Fenton's place because the loud, wacky family was much better company than the home silence.
Tucker knew that his family's financial situation didn't change how Danny or Sam viewed him. They had his back through tick and thin just as he did for them, but as they got closer to graduation the difference between them became jarring.
Sam had easy picking of what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. Her parents were so overjoyed that she wanted to go to a university that they didn't even argue about her wishing to major in botanical biochemistry.
She had started house hunting in Star City midway through senior year. Her parents would gift it to her as a graduation present. Sam would live there for the next eight years to finish her degree.
Danny's parents, while somewhat eccentric, were also certified geniuses. Between the two of them, they had five PHDs and were often freelancing for companies when not doing ghost research. They too could send their two kids to college States away with housing not being a issue.
Jazz went to Metropolis to study Physiology. She lived in a small apartment but was doing well off her scholarships and parent's funding. Last he heard, she had a part-time job at the Daily Planet as a research assistant to gain some independence.
Danny wanted to go to Gotham for their engineering program. He, too, had an apartment of his own, with scholarships and equal funding from his parents. He also worked at Wayne Enterprises, but he was a receptionist. He hoped that once he graduated, he could apply for their engineering program
Not Tucker. His family could only help him get into Community College near Amity. He also couldn't afford to move out so he stayed with them, picking up a part time job to help out when he could.
Tucker is a first-generation college student so even though it wasn't much, he loved to see how his parents glowed when telling others their boy was futhering his education. He wanted to do something that paid well- and after years of patching up Danny- he figured nursing would do the trick.
Tucker would do all his basics in the community College, take a break to save up some money and then move on to the bigger schools.
The day of the graduation felt bittersweet. Team Phantom was finally adults, finally starting out in the real world, but while Danny and Sam moved on to bigger and better things, Tucker knew he would be left behind in little no-where Amity Park.
He never brought it up, but he felt a small dosage of envy the last day of summer before his friends finished packing and left.
Despite both being gone, Tucker had little to no social life even though they called, texted, and emailed often. His days blurred between class, work, and home. Even then, classes were long and tedious, work often ending with one or more customers screaming in his face to try and get free food.
His parents quickly started to nag that he should find a wife as they had married young. They couldn't figure out why he didn't want the same, even though he had no social life again.
Life became dull.
Tucker's only sparks of joy were playing online with Danny and Sam - when they found the time to log in or re-coding his old tech to try and salvage it whenever it broke down.
Soon, it became apparent that Tucker was slowly lacking motivation when he started skipping classes to sleep in and started feeling anxious when he needed to clock in for shifts.
It leads to him barely getting out of bed.
He felt horrible about it, thinking his parents sacrificed so much for him only to have him throw away the opportunities they gave him, and the cycle of not being able to get out of bed would start all over again.
It was Danny who caught on, and all but begged Tucker to come to Gotham for a weekend. He even sent money over for the plane ticket.
Tucker couldn't have gotten on that plane fast enough. He arrived early on Friday since the tickets were cheaper- and Uber over to WE headquarters to pick up Danny's keys as they agreed.
That way, Tucker could sleep and rest in the apartment while Danny worked.
Danny would finish his shift and have the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday off to spend with Tucker. When he arrived, Danny was helping a school check in for a field trip, so Tucker sat down to wait.
Next to him, a kid was growling at his laptop, frankly typing and moving his fingers over the computer's touch mouse. Tucker accidentally glimpsed his screen when the kid started swearing in a different language.
It looked like a shooting game but his lag was bad. By the time the boy pressed the buttons to have his little drone move the other flying things he was chasing were flipping though the air and out of his shooting rage.
It sucked when that happened, and since he was using WE free wifi for guests, it was probably the game. The graphics were badass, though. Seemed almost real.
"Hey try updating the system" He tells the kid after seeing the boy once again lag so bad he missed his shot.
Green eyes swing to him drenched in rage. Which yeah, Tucker knows how frustrating that could be.
"Did I ask for your help!?" The boy snaps, his words lined with an upper-class accent. Made sense since he was wearing a Gotham Academy uniform like the rest of the large school group. "Why are you even looking this way, peasant?"
"No, sorry. I just noticed the lag." Tucker raised his hand, slightly amused at the peasant insult. "I thought I could fix it for you."
The boy's face spams, "You believe you have the ability?"
"Ugh sure? I can try?"
"Here. Be quick. The fate of this city's air defenses depend on it" the boy turns his lap top to him and Tucker blinks.
Okay. So fix the game. He can do that.
And he does, quickly opening the code, analyzing the control and commands , he gets it running properly in less then twenty minutes. The boy seems utterly shock but he quickly takes control of the game and shoots down all the escaping ninjas from the sky.
"Thank you." The boy says with no more tense in his shoulders. Then he closes his laptop and dissappears with the crowd of students.
Tucker thought the kid was a cute.
Danny hands him the keys not long after and he leaves.
Never was he aware of the Boy being Damian Wayne and that the game was not a game but a actual defensive drone system that was fighting off the League of Assassins.
He only finds out how important those two facts are when Danny gets a call from Tim Drake asking if he could pass along Tucker's information because the CEO wanted him on staff as soon as possible..
Both nineteen-year-olds lost their minds after getting the call, screaming at each other in ghost shrieks of glee. They called Sam to let her know- and have her lawyers look over the contact Tim Drake sent just to make sure it wasn't a big-time company trying to screw him over.
He went to an interview three days later. He faced Tim Drake, the current seventeen-year-old CEO, Leo Noir, the current head of HR, and Jessica War, the current head of computer services. They asked him many questions about himself- some of which he felt he had answered terribly- then had him take a computer test.
Tucker thought it was busy work, so he quickly breezed through it. He fixed the problem in many of the coding for various programs, adding his flare to the final product, and after thanking them for their time, went out into the lobby.
He hadn't even reached the door before Jesssica ran after him, offering him the job. Apparently, the first two problems they had him do was the busy work. Tucker had thought they were the ones to let him get comfortable with the coding program.
Like a tutorial in video games.
The other seven were actual issues; many of their latest cellphone products failed. Tucker had solved them in an hour, which had taken the actual team of coders about a month.
"Nitey one dollar and thirty-five cents an hour," Tim tells him tapping the hiring contact. "It would be eighty hours every paycheck. You can work here or at home. Full Benefits. What do you say?"
Tucker's jaw drops. "When do I start!?"
He calls his parents to tell them he will be staying in Gotham with Danny. He tries to explain what had happened but it was all so fast that he can only babble about certain parts.
They tell him not to worry about explaining because they understand how much this means to him.
His parents help pack everything for him and when he flies back for it they, offer him hugs and support. Tucker is so glad they aren't mad.
"I sort of knew it was coming," His dad laughs. "You and that Fenton boy have always been inseparable."
"I did the same thing, you know," His mom says, wiping tears from her eyes but smiling all the same. "I moved with your father states away with little to no plan when I turned twenty too. Drove your grandfather mad."
He loves them both so much. He promises to send money- disregarding their denials- and flies back to Gotham, where Danny has opened his apartment until he gets enough for his own place.
He plans on renting a house with three bedrooms, one for him, one for his office, and another for Danny, as soon as he can. He wants to pay his friend back for everything he did and Danny deserves a bigger living space.
And for once, he'll not have to worry about money!
For once, life is looking up!
(What Tucker is unaware of, is that his parents think he moved to the big city to be with his childhood best friend turned recent lover. They don't know that the money he is sending home is from his own payroll and not Danny's. They think he's a stay-at-home husband.
Tucker is also unaware that the Bats are closely watching him in case he goes rogue. They have been slowly "causally" running into him in the city and breaking into his place to check for supervillain activity.)
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madigoround · 1 year
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🙃
#I can’t remember if I’ve talked about it publicly on here but spark notes version and then we’re going to move on because it is relevant to#the issue at hand: when I was a kid not only did my parents abuse me and my sister but they also abused animals and mostly it was just that#they were neglected and starved to death but there was also a lot of my dad kicking the animals and my mom throwing the ones that she could#pick up across the room in anger and sometimes they would hit things and like generally stuff like that and I always knew it was wrong#it always scared me right? but I didn’t understand how wrong at the time because I kind of just thought everyone’s parents must beat the#shit out of animals just like I kind of thought everyone’s parents abused them a little bit#and then when I became an adult and got away and lived with other people with pets I realized how much people care about their pets and like#to the extent that they will buy all this extra stuff for them just because and treat them to all kinds of shit like doggy daycare#and more than anything I was just confused and I still am pretty much because it wasn’t right but I was taught that animals don’t matter and#my example of how to treat them was more like objects than living beings and I don’t agree with that I know that’s not kind and I’ve read a#ton of books on the right way to treat animals because I don’t want to be like my parents so like I’m trying right? like I’m genuinely#trying to be better I promise you but here’s the part that’s really bothering me that I’m not sure I can tell people in real life because I#don’t think someone who didn’t grow up like me would understand? and like I’m glad most people didn’t grow up like me but im just talking to#myself here and maybe someone will see this that understands: I think there’s something broken in my brain#and I can’t feel that like thing everyone seems to have about their pets I’ve been talking to people all week about how it’s a trial run and#im not sure im going to keep her and everyone has been emphatically telling me that their lives are so much better because of their pets and#they tell me about all this hardship they’ve gone through to give their pets nice things and whatnot or to clean up after them when they#destroy their belongings but you know it’s SO WORTH IT and I feel like something is broken in me because I don’t feel that way about any#animal like I enjoy petting animals and I enjoy giving them love but and here’s a part I feel really bad about I would be just fine if this#cat wasn’t here I am just fine on my own and they seem like more effort than they’re worth kind of I mean she is causing hell and I am being#patient I am cleaning up after her diligently I am reading the articles on how to make her separation anxiety better I am trying to be a#good pet parent and I just don’t feel it like she’s a lovely cat she’s so sweet even if she’s a menace and a problem causer but I don’t feel#what everyone else seems to feel and I’m confused and hurt and I feel broken#I don’t understand what else I could do to be better
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bitchlessdino · 6 months
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hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?
like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.
and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing
Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react
Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end
take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸
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Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch
You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.
“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”
The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.
When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.
His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.
You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.
Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.
If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him. 
“Keep walking.”
Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”
You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.
With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.
“Good, keep it that way.” 
Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”
Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment. 
You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”
Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember. 
“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”
The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:
“Fuck off.”
Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.
“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.” 
You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”
There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.
“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”
He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”
Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.
You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”
“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”
Only because you never liked me in the first place.
“Mmhmm.”
“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”
A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”
Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.
If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.
“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.
Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”
You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.
“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.
Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”
Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.
Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.
“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”
“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.
“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”
There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.
 “Right,” he grunts.
She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.
You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”
“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”
You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”
“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”
“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”
He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.” 
“Without an address?”
He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”
“She really needs to find a hobby.”
Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”
You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”
“I’ll take you.” 
You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”
He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”
“Only people with a death wish.”
That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you. 
There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”
Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.
“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.
“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.
You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.
Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face. 
“Fuck you.”
“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”
You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.
“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”
“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.
“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”
You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.
You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”
You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”
“Of course. Come in.”
You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”
“This morning. Early flight.”
You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”
“Nothing like home though.”
You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”
Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”
“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”
He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”
You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”
“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”
The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”
The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”
“Well, I should get going.”
“You’re going to the party too?”
You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”
“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”
“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”
He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”
You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”
You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.
Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.
Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.
The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.
Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?
You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.
“Wonwoo, come on!”
Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force.  You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.
You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.
Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.
Then panic ensues.
People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.
“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”
You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.
“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”
Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”
“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”
He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.
“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”
“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“
“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”
“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”
His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”
He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.
“Shit.”
Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”
You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”
“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”
You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”
“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”
Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed. 
“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.
“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”
He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”
You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”
He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”
“I’m not being like anything.”
“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”
“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.
The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”
Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest. 
Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”
“Whatever.”
He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface. 
“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”
“Sounds like bedtime.”
You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”
“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”
“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.
“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”
“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”
“What?” 
“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”
You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”
You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”
“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”
“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.
“Thank you.”
“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”
He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”
“You were kissing.”
“You could call it that.”
“For a while,” You add.
“Just enough for her to find closure.”
“And did she?”
“Saved your ass before I could find out.”
You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.
“You asleep yet.”
“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly. 
“Well, I'm tired.”
“Go to sleep then.”
“You should sleep before I do.”
“Why?”
He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”
“Why? I'm a grown adult.”
“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”
“Ever heard of personal space?”
“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”
“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.
“I’m only trying to protect you.”
This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”
“That’s not why–”
“Stop lying–”
“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it. 
You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”
“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”
“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”
“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”
“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.
“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.
“Then why are you such a dick.”
He sighs. “Sorry.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“...Sorry.”
You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”
“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”
It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Okay.”
You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty. 
Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo
With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.
You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping. 
You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.
Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.
Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.
“Hey!”
You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.
“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”
You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”
“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”
“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”
“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”
“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”
He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.
If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.
“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”
“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”
“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”
You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.
He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.
When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”
Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.
You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”
“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”
You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”
“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.
The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin. 
Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”
You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.
You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.
Man, he’s a large man.
“Kinda snug.”
You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”
He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”
“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.
“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?” 
You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”
He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”
“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”
His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”
“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”
“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”
You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”
Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”
Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”
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One piece modern au, Mama Rouge :)
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Happy Mother’s Day :)
Here’s some mama Rouge for the occasion!
Additional info about her 👇(there's a lot.)
Rouge is a bit sickly. Throughout Ace’s formative years, she was in a hospital, sick. Its honestly a miracle she got through child birth alive, but she’s a very very strong woman.
Garp was there when Ace was born because I like to imagine that Garp was Gol D. Roger’s Parole Officer, and so of course he became a family friend. But since he was there for Ace's birth, he was also there when Rouge held her newborn and cried because she knew she couldn't take care of him in her condition.
And look, I don't know how child handling works, but I think it would be really funny if Garp was like "you're okay, girlie, I got the perfect idea." And then he held out a sheet of paper with all the people on his parole list and said like "pick one, this could be part of their community service sentence."
And Rouge was like "might as well, I guess, I don't want to put him in an adoption center or foster home so I guess I'm doing this". Then she picked out Dadan because 'dad' is already in her name, and she's not really given anymore qualifications other than that, so Dadan it is.
Plot twist though because all these convicts just all live with each other so it really wouldn't have mattered, it just meant that now Dadan would be the main guardian of Ace.
-------------
Because she was in the hospital for so long when ace was growing up, she’s a bit of a mystery to him. Sometimes (like 3 times a year) she would come to visit him at The House Of Dadan and bring homemade large stuffed animals for him made with Ace's old clothes she's patched together. Ace loves them and they're on a high up shelf in his room, practically untouched in fears of potentially breaking them.
Whenever Ace has a day with Rouge, it's usually a bit awkward. Like Ace doesn't know how to have a mother and Rouge doesn't know how to have a son, but she is trying her best to have fun with him whenever she gets the chance to.
youtube
I kinda envision these vibes. Not exactly but adjacent.
Very like "what do you wanna do, sweetie :)"
Ace never gets to visit her at the hospital because Rouge doesn't want him to see her in that kind of setting. He tried to once when he became an adult but he was turned away at the door. He may or may not have tried to then find her through the outside of the building through windows and he may or may not have been kicked off the premises by security.
---------
The first day on the job after Ace completes his tattoo artist apprenticeship, he gets a customer who called the day before requesting him specifically, which is a little weird since he had just started that day, normal patrons wouldn't know him.
When it's time for the appointment, he goes to the floor from the back of the shop, and the person sitting in his appointment seat,
Is.. is his mom.
Shes talking to his coworkers and laughing with them! Ahh no nononono. His mom is not supposed to see this part of his life. What is she doing here????
He rushes over to her and asks her what she's doing here for??
"I'm getting a tattoo from my son :) can I get this flower please? :)"
So he starts the tattoo process and Rouge is very cooperative and receptive to when he needs her to move or anything like that.
He's.. he's never actually been this close to her for so long...
He glances up one and he sees her smiling so softly at him.
Ace looks away quickly, hoping she doesn't see him blushing.
For all wondering, the tattoo that she has is very much on her ass and it is very much Roger's name.
That's all I got. I got a couple of people asking about Ace's family situation, so here ya go :)
Oh additionally, Roger died before Ace's birth from Cancer
Thanks for reading if you got this far :)
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scenteddelusion5 · 2 months
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Hi, can I request a platonic Rosie(or several overlords if that’s okay) with a Female reader who’s a teenager overlord who accidentally became an overlord?
The Overlord of Disasters
Fem teenage reader x platonic Rosie (and other overlords)
This got way too long so I tried to shorten it, hope you still enjoy it.
Word count: 2886
Note: I actually am working on a young adult/teenager oc that has the powers to become an overlord, so the fact that this is my first request is very funny. When I've finished her design, I'll write about her. But for now, here is the story of Y/n the overlord of disasters.
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Y\n had to admit that she wasn't the nicest person but she never expected to end up in hell. HELL, like yess she was a bit of a troubled teen... she was a petty thief, yess, but some of her peers were much worse. Besides, she was only fifteen when she died. She never had the chance to do better. That should've given her at least some leeway? Right?? RIGHT???
But no, she ended up in hell.
When Y/n first arrived, she roamed the dangerous streets looking for shelter. Her face and slim goat-like stature was hidden by a torn cloak. She tried to be inconspicuous, discreet, low-key but she overlooked one thing... Our Y/n was ridiculously clumsy. So when she tripped over her own foot, her arm bumped into the light pole causing it to fall over onto a postal van. That in turn caused all the letters to fly out on the street. Some of the papers got carried up by the wind, eventually getting stuck onto the cord of a power pylon. Then there was fire, which spread onto a building...
Everyone's eyes were focused on her, including a set of hollow eye socket. It didn't take long for the demons that lived in the now burning building to storm her.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" One incredibly tall shark demon took the lead. "I'm going to rip fucking longs out of your chest and feed it to those CANIBAL FREAKS!!!"
At first Rosie didn't want to intervene. It really wasn't her style to get involved into random street fights, even though she found Y/n's disastrous display hilarious. But now that the loan shark insulted her people, she felt it was her duty to step in.
"Gentlemen, whatever might be the problem?" Rosie stepped in between you and the threatening hoard and flashed her sharp teeth to them. "You aren't bullying this poor newcomer, right?"
"Uhm, n-no miss, uhm Rosie. We're sorry." Before Rosie could open her mouth again, they ran back into the still burning building.
The overlord then turned to you. "Now darling, I take it you don't have a place to stay?"
Y/n shook her head.
"Then you can stay with me. I'm quite the powerful demon."
From that day on Y/n stayed with Rosie. During the years of living together, the two grew quite close. The overlord took over a motherly role for the teen. Everyone in cannibal town loved the unofficially adopted daughter of Rosie, they were even willing to put up with Y/n's clumsy nature.
Rosie truly loved her and when Y/n accidentally called her mom while helping out in the store, she was the happiest demoness in all of hell.
From that day on Rosie introduced Y/n as her daughter to anyone and everyone, even some of her fellow overlords.
Alastor and Y/n had met many times and often had tea together. The man often joked about how it's never boring with her. She had also met Zestial and Camilla a few times, but she wasn't as close with them as Alastor and Rosie.
One day Y/n had to make a trip to the Doomsday district. Rosie had, reluctingly, sent you to deliver a dress to a customer. She was all alone, her hand rested on the angelic steel knife on her belt. Rosie had given it to her so she could protect herself, just in case. Most people knew you were close to several overlords but you could never be more careful, especially Y/n.
Y/n was repeating her 'safety protocol' in her head.
Stay away from the walls
stay away from the poles
stay away from the demons
Stay away from the fire
Look where you step
Hold th-
She walked into something and fall back on her but. Looking up was a demon she recognized... An overlord, he was in charge of the Doomsday district.
"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!!" This situation seemed awfully familiar.
Y/n clenched her shirt. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to."
"I DON'T CARE!!!"
The demon was menacingly towering over her. She crawled back and pulled herself up. Seeing as this wasn't going to be resolved with a pleasant conversation over tea, Y/n pulled out her knife. Her arms were shaking and the knife felt heavy in her hands.
"What do you think that toothpick is going to do?" He stepped forward and you stepped back. On and on until she hit the wall... OH no... she hit the wall...
Her elbow hit the random waterpipe on the side of the building and broke it. Water spewed out right into the overlord's face. The demon fell back. The water had landed on the street, causing a car to slip and running over the overlord and crashing into the wall. This in turn caused the satellite aerial to fall down and slightly bumped your back. The knife shot out of your hand right into overlord. The aerial send out a weird frequency.
"Spare me... Please..." The overlord gasped out.
Y/n was still shaken up. "What?... Uhm I don't plan on killing you." her voice sounded unsure, which the overlord took way different than you meant.
"Please!" He wailed. "I'm begging you... You can have all my souls, just please."
"I don't uhm..."
"PLEASE!!! TAKE THEM!!!"
"... Sure...??" She said very confused. "I'll take them." The two shook hands and immediately, Y/n could feel the pure power flowing through her veins. "Alright... Bye now?" As she stepped away a shadow covered the overlord. Before Y/n could look up a piano hit the demon, pushing the knife deeper in effectively killing him.
What the fuck just happened?
Everything was quiet. All eyes were on her, again... As always, only this time, she doubted she would be saved this time. She was prepared to be killed again... Only nobody did anything, no demons threatening to kill her, no stray bullets that got way to close to her head, not even another butterfly effect disaster... The demons around just stared.
One small demon with black eyes walked up to you... "What are you going to do to us?"
"What...?"
"What are you going to do to us?" He repeated. "You are the new overlord of the Doomsday district, you own our souls."
"I... I don't." She awkwardly grabbed at her sleeves. "I'm not an overlord."
"Yes, you are. You defeated the previous overlord of doom, took over his souls and territory, you became an overlord." Y/n stayed silent at this. "How about we talk in private?" He took her into a smaller building nearby, away from all prying eyes. "Let's start over. I'm Piper. You own my soul." The small demon introduced himself.
"Uhm... Y/n, and I'm no overlord. Overlords are like scary, like WHA!" She made grabby gestures with her hands. "And BOE! I'm anything but that."
Piper looked at her like she had just grown another head. "How about this? I'll keep your territory in control while you think this over a bit? And in turn, you'll keep me in high up in the social latter here."
Her mouth was dry. "... Deal..?" She was so confused.
From that day on Piper took care of the Doomsday district for her. Y/n never went to Rosie about this. She always wanted to keep her daughter safe and would be so mad to find out she got into trouble again... At least that's what Y/n convinced herself.
Even though Piper took care of most of the problems in the Doomsday district, word got around of the new overlord of disasters; a terrifying force of nature that shouldn't be reckoned with. So of course there were demons that wanted to challenge her. Every other day y/n needed to sneak out of Cannibal town to 'fight' these challengers. See 'fight' as in accidentally defeating them.
Y/n was filing her bag with a cloak and a mask she picked up to hide her identity when a knock came from her door.
"Y/n darling! It's me and Alastor." Rosie opened the door and summoned a table. "Please sit down, we want to talk to you."
She sat down in the Victorian style chair, but not before stumbling a bit.
"Little lamb, your mother is worried about you." Alastor broke the silence.
"Deary, you've been sneaking out a lot and staying away for longer and longer and when you come home you're exhausted-" Rosie took a deep breath "- what I'm trying to say is that you can talk to me if something's wrong... You know that right?" Her cheeks were droopy, a frown plastered on her porcelain face, it made Y/n's stomach turn.
"I'm fine, mom. There is no need to worry about me." She lied.
Alastor's eyebrows down, almost like he wanted to frown, but he still had that giant smile on his face. "Are you sure? If somebody is bothering you, we don't mind serving them for tonight's dinner. Hahaha." He joked, underneath, however, he was nervous. The Radio demon had grown quite fond of her and, knowing how clumsy she could be, he couldn't help but worry.
"No, one is bothering me... Thank you for offering though." At this point, Y/n had grown used to the cannibalistic tendencies of the people around her and so shrugged Alastor's joke off.
Rosie had a bad feeling about this. "Can you at least tell us where you've been sneaking of to?"
Shit
Y/n didn't have excuse for this. "J-just some friends... I.. I didn't want them to be scared off, so I didn't tell them about you. I'm sorry mom." Tears filled her eyes, she didn't want to lie to her. Rosie had done so much for her... She was planning on giving this whole being an overlord up anyway, there was no reason for Y/n to tell the truth now. It'll be like it never happened and then she can go back to her normal life with her mom.
Rosie stared into her cup. "Alright deary, but please make sure to be careful. Genuine friends are rare in hell."
"Thanks mom." Y/n stood up again and left the imperium, through the front door this time.
Alastor squinted his eyes, following your silhouette. Something was wrong, you were lying. He could feel it... But this was Rosie's responsibility, so he should leave it up to her. "She is lying."
"I know but if she isn't ready to talk about it, then I'll wait."
"On a different note, did you hear that the Doomsday district has a new overlord." Alastor took a sip from his 'Oh, Deer' mug. "They've been defeating demon after demon. I've been meaning to meet them for my radio show, would you like to come with me?"
Y/n was walking down the street to the Doomsday district. I should've just told Rosie the truth. She thought. But she had panicked and lied, only making it harder for herself.
Stepping into the same, small building where Piper first dragged her off too, Y/n put on her overlord disguise.
"You didn't break anything, right?" Piper asked, dressed in a brand-new suit. "I don't want to fix the sewerage again."
"It went fine!" She put up her thumb, before knocking over a chair that landed on a vase, breaking it in two thousant pieces. "Sorry."
Y/n and Piper walked around the district for a while, more so to let the demons know that the overlord of disaster was still around and that they were close with Piper. She caused chain reactions all around her, letting people know she got her title for a reason... Not her fault the denizens of hell took it the wrong way.
The two were rounding the corner when a familiar set came into view... What were Rosie and Alastor doing here? Y/n's panic only grew once she realised Alastar was trying to get her attention. Did they recognize her? What was happening?
As the two overlords came closer and closer, Y/n ducked into an alleyway and seemingly disappeared~
The dumpster wasn't Y/n's first choice of hiding place but it was the only one she had.
Piper was left alone on the burning streets with two dangerous overlords heading straight for him.
"Where did she go?" The woman, who Piper recognized to be the cannibal overlord, asked. "I swore she was just here."
"And what relation do you have with this new overlord, my incredibly short fellow." The second man Piper knew all too well. The terrifying Radio demon. "I was hoping to speak to her."
"Ah, I- I'm incredibly sorry... B-but the disaster overlord doesn't like dealing with overlord stuff, so she makes me represent." Piper sputtered.
"I see, but you see I want to speak to the REAL overlord. Not some pathetic representative." Dials appeared in Alastor's eyes and strange symbols started floating around. "GOT THAT."
"YES!"
"Lovely, then you can set up an audience for me. How does Friday sound?"
"Perfect, Friday at 5 p.m."
"Great, I can't wait to meet her." The two overlords went on their merry way again through the streets of Doomsday district.
Friday came around and nothing. Alastor had waited for twenty minutes, yet there was no sight of the disaster demon or her little pet. This was rich, never before was the overlord stood up like this. Who would dare to waste his time?! Alastor's stature as well as his antlers grew. That day there was a very horrifying broadcast and Y/n was at home with Rosie. She had to admit she almost peed her pants when Alastor openly threatened her on the radio broadcast...
There was no way she could come clean now. From that day on, you didn't show your overlord self once. Always letting Piper deal with everything.
That was until he came running to you, a letter in hand. It was an invitation to an overlord meeting, one she wouldn't be allowed to send Piper to. At first she didn't want to go, but Piper thought that would be a surefire way to piss off even more overlords. She had to go.
That's how she ended up, dressed in her cloak and mask, in front of an office building in Carmilla's circle of the pentagram. Stepping into the building the place was quiet, no one was around... Was this a trap? Y/n continued on the conference room, although more cautious. Room 666.
Everyone was already there. Were you supposed to come early?
"Disaster demon, glad you could join us." Carmilla spoke first. "We weren't sure you would show up anymore."
Y/n kind of shrugged trying her best to hide her voice.
"How rude, this new generation of overlords ought to know their place. Don't you think so Zestial?" Alastor commented half-jokingly.
"Yes, I must agree." The oldest overlord answered.
You wobbly sat down in your seat, but in doing so breaking the seat. A metal leg shot out to Vox, who protected himself. It ricocheted to the chandelier, which luckily kept hanging. Unluckily though, one of the more heavy ornaments fell down onto the table. It broke in two.
With each sound and broken item, Y/n hugged herself more and more until she resembled more of an hedgehog than a goat. She felt incredibly awkward, tears came out of her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"I'M SORRY!!!! YOU ALMOST BROKE MY SCREEN AND DESTROYED THE CONFERENCE ROOM AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS SORRY?!!!" Vox screamed, he was about to launch over the broken table but Alastor stopped him.
"Not a step closer my pal." Alastar's horns grew, showing that he was serious in protecting the newest overlord.
"There is only one demon in the entire universe who could create such a mess." Rosie spoke to herself. "Y/n is that you?" Rosie almost couldn't keep herself from smirking when she removed her mask.
"Yes... I-"
"Alright, everyone out this meeting is over!" Carmilla said. The demons left but only with some push. "Not you three."
They were all looking at you, Carmilla, Zestial, Alastor and Rosie, waiting for an explanation.
"Be- Before you get mad at me, this was an accident."
"I'm not mad about my conference room, now explain." Carmilla's eyes stayed focused on her, like lion waiting for its prey.
"I don't just mean the conference room, this was an accident." Y/n points to herself. "I didn't mean to become an overlord. It just kind of happened and I thought you would be mad at me and then I dug myself into a deeper hole, and now I'm here dressed like this embarrasing myself in front of everyone." The tears that had been slowly building up, started flowing.
"Oh deary." Rosie stood up and gave you a big hug. "I could never be mad at you. I just wish you would've told me. We can work this out together, besides this means you have the power to protect yourself. You don't know how worried I was if you would ever find yourself in a sticky situation alone."
"Thanks mom." Y/n hugged her back.
"If I may interrupted your lovely bonding time, but how exactly did you 'accidentally' defeat the previous overlord?" Alastor asked.
"Oh, I didn't defeat him." She explained. "He got runover by a car, then he decided to give me all his souls and a piano dropped on him."
"Excuse me?"
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nvirskies · 3 months
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sand - c. la rue
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idea taken from one of @star-girl69 's asks about married clarisse and immediately went to think about how the vast majority of greek demigods didn't get to live past their 20's or even teen years... and the survivor's guilt that would come with being one of the few lucky enough to live longer.
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, traumatic nightmare flashbacks, descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood + war, spoilers for TLO, set after both reader and clarisse leave CHB about 6-8 years into the future, google translated Greek term of endearment, crying, survivor's guilt, platonic RueGard, ooc Clarisse, she's matured more over time and more articulate with her feelings and words
summary: clarisse wakes up from a particularly bad nightmare in the middle of the night, reader comforts her through a breakdown
wife!fem!demigod!reader x wife!clarisse la rue
word count: 2.2k
καρδιά μου (kardiá mou) - my heart
Η καρδιά μου είναι η καρδιά σου (I kardiá mou eínai i kardiá sou) - my heart is your heart
"but you have more pieces of me than than desert has sand, and I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand" sand, alchemical: vol. 1, dove cameron
taglist: @lvrue @star-girl69 @azrielsdiary @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover
men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16-/19+ dni
Greek demigods fell in love hard and fast with an unmatched intensity. They normally didn’t live long enough to even envision themselves in their adult lives, and why would they? Every day was a struggle to stay alive with monsters coming in from all angles and quests most didn’t come back from.
And that was why, as soon as the two of you graduated high school, Clarisse got down on a knee and proposed with the knowledge that you were the one she would want to spend the rest of her life, however long or short, with.
When you two had graduated college, the next thing in the books was to make it official in the courthouse, and that was what you had done. No extravagant party or ceremony, just a quiet day in the courthouse and a night in to celebrate.
But no matter how far the two of you ran from Camp Half-Blood, the nightmares never went away, never got better. As the years passed, more of the people you had considered friends died. One after the other, falling like cursed dominos, helplessly standing by as they all tumbled down.
Soon, the nightmares became more about the people that were lost than the monsters themselves. Nightly plagues of searingly painful memories from watching the life drain from so many demigods’ eyes burned themselves in both of your psyches.
All you could do was hope Charon would be kind enough to ferry them across the Styx without his payment of a silver coin.
And tonight certainly hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary with the two of you and your limbs interlaced in a protective embrace while sleep claimed your minds, as if the both of you could protect each other from the monsters both in and outside.
Your head, nestled into her chest. Her deep, rhythmic breathing made your hair flutter ever so slightly as she exhaled. Her arms, wrapped loosely around your waist, hands not-so-sneakily under the baggy shirt of hers you had stolen to wear as pajamas for the night. It was all perfect. Too perfect.
You would be damned fools to think that peace would last for so long. Demigods didn’t get peace, they didn’t get tranquility, and they especially didn’t get uninterrupted domestic bliss.
Unbeknownst to you, Clarisse’s face contorted into one of distress. Her arms pulled you in closer subconsciously as the all too familiar face of Morpheus greeted her with a sly smirk on his face in her dreams.
In moments, she was transported back to the Battle of Manhattan.
She was seventeen again.
Blood was everywhere. Abandoned weapons lay on the floor, the hands that once gripped them tightly, now loose and limp. Shrill screams echoed throughout the air, all cut short by gut-wrenching sounds of fatal injury. Metal cut through flesh. Acid burnt through metal. Flames licked and greedily consumed anything and everything as fuel.
Her feet felt heavy, her hands numb. She could do nothing but stand and watch it all unfold before her own eyes, forced to relive the carnage and devastation that had ripped through Manhattan on that fateful day.
Morpheus’ voice whispered in her right ear, the sound of it sending an uneasy chill down her spine. “Daughter of Ares. A fitting dream, no? Your father must have been proud of you for the way you fought after… well, I’ll let you relive that, too.” Before she could blink, she was transported to the moment right after Silena had been sprayed by the Lydian Drakon.
Clarisse was too late. She had always been too late.
She was back on her knees, choking and weeping bitterly as Silena lay in her arms, watching as life slowly left her once-lively eyes.
What kind of a warrior even was she? So weak that she couldn’t even protect her friend? Too weak to protect the girl who had adorned her armor and led her siblings into battle?
Just as Clarisse reached out to touch Silena’s face to wipe away the one mark of smudged eyeliner that the Aphrodite girl normally would never have even allowed to happen in the past, she was jerked back to consciousness, eyes flying open and arms almost crushing your sleeping form momentarily as she came to.
No longer was she in Manhattan, instead sheltered in the familiarly adorned walls of your shared bedroom. Upon the walls hung framed pictures of joyous times past and her sword collection, among other things.
Familiar faces stared back at her, some faces that would never age again. Immortalized memories of times that would never happen again. Everyone was dead or scattered across the globe.
A particular picture caught Clarisse’s eye. It was a portrait of Silena that she had commissioned one of the Apollo kids to draw for the daughter of Aphrodite’s seventeenth birthday.
She never lived to see that day.
Her eyes locked with Silena’s in the drawing for a moment, and that moment was one too much as hot tears began to prick in the corners of her eyes.
She had inadvertently woken you up with the way her arms tightened around your waist in a near vice grip, slowly coming to your senses. No longer were her breaths slow and rhythmic, their steadfast pattern replaced by one that was erratic and shallow. The once-steady thumping cadence of her heart as it beat in her chest was now quickened, all of which you could hear with your head having been nestled into her chest.
Craning your head to look up at her, you were greeted with the sight of Clarisse desperately trying to silently blink back tears and control her own breathing.
Hurriedly, you pushed yourself up off her chest and tugged the blankets off the two of you before sitting down on her lap. You took note of the way her hands had never left your waist, holding onto you as if she were drowning and you were the last life ring thrown out.
It wasn’t anything you and Clarisse hadn’t dealt with before. The nightmares had been a part of your lives as far back as you could remember, it just came with the territory of being a demigod. But they never got any easier as time went on.
She watched silently with eyes brimming with unshed tears, pleading wordlessly with you to do something, anything to make it all go away.
“Let’s switch, yeah? You can lay on me and completely cover me if you want, love,” you offered up, a melancholy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Wordlessly, she nodded and you slipped off her lap, laying back where she had just been moments ago.
Gently patting your chest, you motioned for her to rest her head on it, knowing that the rest of her body would soon follow, completely engulfing your form with hers. After she had positioned herself, her arms snaked around your waist again as she simply held you for a few moments, her face pressed into your chest as tears slowly soaked into your shirt.
One hand reached out to gently run along the length of her back, the motion meant to soothe. A few beats passed in silence before you spoke in a hushed whisper, the bedroom devoid of sound beyond the two of you breathing in tandem with each other.
“You hear that, love? That’s my heart,” you murmured softly, craning your neck to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “It’s beating, beating for you. Η καρδιά μου είναι η καρδιά σου.”
She didn’t respond beyond releasing another shaky sob into your chest and tightening her grip around your body, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t need her to talk just yet.
“You’re also η καρδιά μου, you know that, right? My heart, my wife, my love, my everything. And I’m yours. Entirely yours, and I”m not going anywhere.” You craned your neck again to press another kiss against the crown of her head, hand never stopping its path of running gently along the length of her back.
“I would go down to the depths of Tartarus for you. I would challenge Hades himself to a fight if it meant I had even a glimmer of a chance in getting you back.”
Never once did you try to rush her into talking or shushing her tears. You knew her better than you knew yourself, and giving her time to let everything out was the best thing you could do for her at the moment.
You were her safe space, the one woman that she could let her walls down around. She wasn’t Ares’ star daughter in your arms, she was just Clarisse. No expectations dangling over her head, just open arms and understanding.
After another few quiet moments, she finally spoke up in between half-choked sobs, whispering so quietly that her voice was nearly inaudible, “Silena… Manhattan… should have been able to save her,” before letting her face fall back down onto your chest, releasing another pained cry.
“She’s gone- a-and everyone else too- why me?”
Her question left you speechless, mouth partly opened in an attempt to come up with a reassuring response, but nothing seemed to come to mind immediately. It was rare for this to happen, as you normally had just the right words at the top of your tongue, weaving them as Arachne once wove tapestries on her loom.
“They’re all gone and- and- ”
“Shh, love…” you cut her off, gently pulling her head up to look her in the eyes, your other hand leaving her back to wipe the tears that were still streaming down her cheeks with the pad of your thumb. “Please, don’t go back into that self-sacrificial spiral. Talk to me, tell me what the dream was about?”
She only shook her head in response, unwilling to divulge details of the memory that had shattered your night of otherwise perfect proportions.
Deflating back on top of you, she whispered, “They’re all gone, and we’re one of the only ones remaining. It was like every time another one of them died, that small part of myself that I gave to them died as well.”
Her arms that were wrapped around your waist tightened for a moment before going limp along with the rest of her body as she lay atop you, her head pressed against your chest.
“Love…” you began softly as one of your hands found its way to her head and carded gently through her curls. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. None of it was your fault. We didn’t ask to be born, to be thrown into this mess of a world and tossed around like pawns in the gods’ game of chess with our lives.”
“We didn’t ask for this life, and we were so young at the time. For fuck’s sake, we were only seventeen- we hadn’t even made out yet. We hadn’t graduated high school yet, there were so many things we couldn’t control.
“None of it was your fault, I promise you. You were so brave, and you did everything you could.” She stayed silent as you spoke, the only sounds coming from her were the soft, shaky breaths as she sniffled and burrowed her face further into your shirt.
“I can’t explain to you why so many things had to happen, that’s up to the Fates. I can’t give you the pieces of yourself back that you lost when we kept losing everyone,” you murmured whilst your hands kept on with their idle motions.
It shattered your heart to give her such an incomplete answer when you knew it was tearing her apart inside to live with it all, but there was nothing you could do beyond offer solace and comfort. “And for that, I am so, so sorry. But the one thing I can do is keep the piece you’ve granted me to keep, safe and sound.”
She only nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak in fear of her own vulnerability. Her tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn’t care. All that was important was that Clarisse was here, in your arms, and slowly calming down.
Clarisse knew just as well as you did that everyone had done the best they could with the circumstances given, and that the loss affected you just as deeply. But she didn’t dig into that, it would be a can of worms to open for another time, another sleepless night where your own troubles caught up with you after running from them for so long.
And so, the rest of the night stretched on into early morning, the two of you half-awake, seeking silent solace in each other until sunlight crept into the bedroom through the cracks of the curtains the next day.
The two of you might have been running from your trauma like runners to a marathon, but at least you were running hand-in-hand with matching strides.
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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omg congrats on 10.5k, thats frickin amazing!! ♡ if you feel like writing it,
🖋 + joel miller
"you couldn't love me if you tried. You couldn't love anything"
"that's not true"
hi Rhi! first, thank you so much. i stared at your prompt 'till the scene came to me, and i hope you like it. — main masterlist | 🏷️: established 'situationship', post-outbreak, insecure!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, insecure!Joel, mentions of smut, adult themes so minors DNI, feelings confession. [WC: 2.1k]
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ you call it madness ꒱
Joel had the power to awaken the most potent, brand-new things to your surface. Since he had arrived in Jackson with the bright kid trailing after him and his mountains of pent-up trauma, Joel lived under your skin.
At first, it was because of his cold, indifferent distance.
Then, when the first couple of months passed by and working side by side forced proximity on you two leading you to the realization that a lot of the gruffness and silence was just a facade, the issue became his nonchalant air of detached.
Everything you wanted was to have in him the same effect he had on you.
That tingle. That burn on your nape when the person enters the room. The hype-awareness of their every move. You wanted Joel attached to you, glued to your skin, and when you got it, he made you swallow all your need and desire down with the bitter pill of what having you Joel meant.
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Having Joel came with the taste of cheap alcohol, the scent of burnt things, and that quivering darkness that seemed to follow him unless Ellie was around.
It came with his ghosts hanging off his back, and his mind stuck in a limbo that cemented in him the idea that his ghosts weighted more than they did.
It took him months to allow you into his life. Months of you trying to figure out why he pissed you off so much and why even though his monosyllabic bullshit made your skin itch, you still found a way to interact with him at every given opportunity.
When he started laughing at your jokes—no, when Joel started snickering under his breath whenever you made a sharp comment to a fellow worker, it became your addiction. The fact that you were not other people.
Not for him.
Wearing him down was supposed to be about getting him off of your mind, removing him from under your skin.
It ended up being your ticket into his home, his life, his bed.
Joel had this power of making you do things you had no clue you even knew how.
Things that the you from before — a someone who’d been deceased long ago — would gasp out loud at.
But fuck all of that. Fuck anything that strayed away from being the reason for Joel Miller laughing, or god forbid, making him and Ellie happy. 
You’d take it all to pay the price for that.
You’d accept his days of silence and his days of trying to make jokes, or teach you and Ellie how to play the guitar eve if you sucked at it and the girl had what seemed like a natural talent.
So what if Joel sometimes bled his darkness all over you?
You begged for it.
So what if he whispered the filthiest things in your ear as he took you wherever he wanted, however he wanted, claiming you over and over with fingerprints imprinted on your skin, beard burns leaving red trails from your face and neck all the way down to places other people would never get a chance to look at again, according to Joel himself?
Considering how welcoming you were to all of it, one would think you’d know your place. Or at least know better than to expect out of Joel Miller something he stopped believing he can give to anyone a long time ago.
Despite your best judgment, you did hope. You wished, and dreamt of it, and cried about it in silent tears on his damn pillow when he turned away from you to sleep sometimes.
It goes on until he catches up to all of it. 
Joel always catches up to things. Especially if that thing is related to you.
On a winter night, a whole year after he and Ellie have settled and officially made a home, you two are discussing things after dinner in his kitchen.
Ellie went to a friend’s house, leaving the both of you to your shitty pizzas and even shittier booze. Joel, propped against the sink with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair a messy mop of curls, looks pissed off at your comment that, “she gotta at least put the Miller stare away. Time it properly, if she wants to make more friends.”
It was supposed to be a joke. Something only you two would understand. Instead, Joel turns around with that pinch between his eyes.
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
You put the mug down, thrown back by his tone, making a noncommittal sound. He repeats his question, confirming you did hear what you thought, and it makes you snicker. “Joel. Would you like a goddamn mirror right now, handsome?”
The nickname does nothing to phase his look. “You sayin’ I’m a bad influence on her? That I’m the reason she ain’t got no other friends?’
“Woah, woah—take it many, many steps back, cowboy—”
“I ain’t laughin’. I don’t know why you are.”
“Because it’s ridiculous!” All your ironic humor is gone. Evaporated like water under the scolding sun. “D’you hear yourself? I said time it properly, Joel. I know exactly just how useful the grouchy look is, trust me.”
“I don’t tell her to do that shit. She’s always been like that.” He turns back around with that stiffness in his shoulders.
“I know.” You try calming yourself, your voice, your tone. Joel can be prickly, as can you. “It’s… her little way. It makes Ellie Ellie, and honestly, it’s what makes her stand out. Her personality’s one of a kind, that’s for sure, and I wouldn’t trade an inch of it for anything else, but she’s—impulsive. And while I love, all I’m sayin is—”
“Other people don’t,” he completes.
“Exactly.”
There was the noise of the final dishes being placed to dry, and Joel cleaning up his work.
“You love how impulsive she is?” Although Joel’s finished, he keeps his back to you. His tone is back to an amused one, for some reason.
“Sure I do.” You loved her since you two were out of town and got stuck in a blizzard together, and Ellie told you about her friend Riley. Loved, with every fiber in you. “It’s not useful, but it just means her fire’s alive. I like that. It’s better than the alternative. You know what happens when people’s fires die.”
At that, Joel finally turns around, drying his hands in his own clothes, fixing his dark eyes on you. “Yeah. I’ve got a mirror.”
God, you think. There he goes again.
You sigh, annoyed and angry, just like that. In a split second. Because of four little words. “If you’re gonna start talking shit about yourself—”
Joel cuts you with his laugh. “Sorry. ‘m sorry.” He steps closer to you, pulling the chair he was using during dinner closer until it’s glued on yours, and he sits. “Dunno why you hate it so much, but I’ve leared better. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Better than the alternative, you guessed. You hummed, not that over your sudden wave of anger.
The way he saw himself contrasted who he was so much that it pissed you off more than any Clicker ever could.
“Hey.” Joel brings up one hand to cup your cheek, and it soothes his cold hand over your jaw, landing on your nape. “‘s fine. I won’t be talkin’ about broken old me, ‘kay?”
Fire raged in your veins and his hand on your neck was the only anchor keeping your from storming off his house.
“It’s like you wanna piss me off sometimes.”
Joel has the audacity to laugh at you. “I just said I ain’t gonna say anythin’, woman.”
“You’re not broken,” you argue, serious and angry enough to get that insanely stupidly gorgeous and self-depracating smile out of his face.
“We’ll just agree to disagree here—”
“No, we fucking won’t. You’re not a thing, you can’t broken if you’re not a thing.”
“That’s funny, ‘cause I feel a lot of fuckin’ pieces missing.” Joel rarely speaks with that roughness directed towards you, but that’s better. Realer than the sardonic smile. He sighs deeply, his face relaxing a second after. Tired, he squeezes your neck. “Look—I made a stupid joke. I know you don’t like me talkin’ shit about myself for lord knows what reason, so I won’t—”
“‘Cause they’re not true.”
It surprises you both, you think. The crack in your voice. The shimmery wetness in your vision blurring the sight of a stunned Joel certainly surprises you. 
You swallow the knot in your throat, but it’s stuck there. You speak around it anyway. “It’s the same way you feel when they talk about ‘er, ok?” You sniffle, looking away from him to blink down the tears. “I fucking hate it.”
It’s how you feel when they shittalk Ellie.
The words hang in the air for a heavy second until you realize what you’ve laid on the table.
Joel loves Ellie. That much is known.
You love Ellie. That much was known, too.
When he speaks again, Joel is the one who sounds choked. "You couldn't love me if you tried. You couldn't love anything." It pulls your gaze back to him. “Not about me. Ain’t nothing about me worth lovin’.” He shakes his head, and his hand is gone from your neck, leaving only the cold ghost of it in the process. 
You couldn’t love me. 
It’s your turn to laugh.
"That's not true." 
He paused, and you saw his Addam's apple bobbing before he shakes his head, still in disbelief.
“You know what I did. More than anyone I’ve met before. You know there’s nothing here to love.”
“That’s your excuse?”
“It’s the fuckin’ truth,” Joel’s starting to sound on the verge of tears, and your eyes glue to his face.
“Joel, I don’t know what was misunderstood in my little nod and silence when you shared all those things about your past that night, but let me make something clear to you—I know the difference.” Joel’s frown between hsi brown deepens, but his eyes remain on yours. “You think I don’t? Don’t you ever condescend me to the point of thinking I don’t know the different between what’s rotten and what’s not in this world.”
Not saying ‘between what’s good and bad’ is a deliberate choice, and it keeps Joel’s attention hooked.
Somehow, you know this is your only chance, so you forego all thinking and just allow all your feelings for him to pour out of your pores and slip through your lips. 
“I heard all you told me and I don’t give a fuck about what you did when dissassociating out of your mind. What you did to survive, or what you did ‘cause you saw all the real rotten all around. When you say shit like ‘ain’t nothin’ about me worth living’ you put yourself in the same sack as people like that fucker David or other people who really are rotten. Who did and are horrible outta pleasure. Outta desire for it. And that is not you.”
If you could reach to him, this was when.
You lean forward, making the distance between you both smaller. 
This time, you cup his neck.
“And let me make this crystal clear ‘cause apparently it wasn’t. That last thing you did? To save her?” You breathe deeply. “If it was me in your place, I would’ve done the exact fucking same. A room full of wannabe scientists and a bunch of equipment from god knows when, swearing that killing the only person who’s apparently immue is gonna solve something?” You scoff. “Joel, I would’ve burned that building to the ground with everyone in it.”
"You…"
The words never come to him.
Instead, what comes forward is Joel.
Something in your speech breaks the dem that you had no idea existed, and Joel floods towards you.
Crashing his lips against yours, he devours.
His kiss demands a surrender because it delivers things he never gave you before. Joel holds onto your face like a lifeline, groaning against your mouth and lifting both of your bodies to press you closer to him, suddenly desperate. Suddenly devout, and it spills from his eyes.
When Joel pulls back to look at you, there’s a fright and a hope in them that makes you realize why he turned around. Why he kept his distance.
Joel thought you could never get him. Not truly, and not personally.
“You…” he whispers, lips still touching yours. His eyes are saying so much that words evaded him. “I…” Joel swallows so thickly that you hear it this time, and it draws a whimper from you.
“I know, Joel,” you whine, pulling him in for another kiss.I know you could. That maybe now you’ll allow yourself to, all your kisses say. I already do. I already do.
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🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeiaaa — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. *
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Playing Nurse for the Batfam
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From Injustice Gods Among Us Year 5 #15
Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. Will you take it?
Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)
Warning: Adult language, parental abuse, parental neglect
Word Count: 1.6k
Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 
Part One, Part Two
Part Three: Skip-Bo and Chess
My mind raced as I went over the contract. Everything seemed too simple, too easy. The only terms and conditions I had to abide by were that I wouldn’t reveal his identity and that I would need to essentially be on call from the hours of 21:00 to 7:00, but roughly 24/7. The pay was a ridiculous amount. The insurance was crazy good. I didn’t realize it was possible to get that much coverage. But this went against everything I have represented in my life. Would I be betraying the people of Gotham, my patients, and my fellow coworkers, by taking this job? Would I be betraying myself and my past history? 
Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 
My father and I stood over my mother’s grave. It was strange. My mom was a woman who breathed life into everything. She never wore a dull color, she danced whenever she could, and she sang horribly and off tune. She wore her hair in two long braids with colorful ribbons. She wore sweet perfume. She wore red lipstick. She wore so many necklaces and bracelets she jingled when she walked. She snorted when she laughed. And now when I looked at her all I saw was dirt and a gravestone. Her colorfulness, her loudness, her laughter, her joy, all of it was gone. I knew I couldn’t cry though. Not in front of Dad. He got so much meaner when I did. Sometimes I wonder what my beautiful, colorful, caring mother saw in this cruel bleak man. But I guess his bitterness was supposed to balance out her sweetness. 
But without her, it felt like I was choking on the disgusting taste of my reality. We were grieving. We had no money. And the debt just seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. I tried selling homemade cookies at school to help out. I raised about 22 dollars. I came home with a smile on my face and handed my father the money. He pocketed it without another word. It was almost worse when he was like this.
It felt like he was a teapot that was brewing and I was just waiting for the wrong thing to set him off. 
Some days when I came home from school he was home. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at me. Other days he wasn’t there. I had to scavenge the house for food or walk to the convenience store with what little money I had scurried away. 
It felt like my life had become black and white without my mom. Everything seemed so hopelessly bad. Then one day my dad came home with a smile on his face. My first instinct was to tense my body and avert my gaze. I didn’t know what he was going to do. 
“Sweetie, come with me. I have an idea,” my father said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out the door with him. 
He drove like a maniac and pulled up towards a seemingly abandoned building. My blood ran cold with anticipation. 
My father practically ripped me out of the car and dragged me inside. Inside there were about twenty men all pretty beat up. All of them looked at me. I picked at my hangnails and looked at my father. 
“Y/n, these gentlemen need to be healed. Be a doll and heal them.” My father’s words were clipped, and my pulse raced. I merely nodded and healed man after man. It became clear to me, even at my young age, that these men were a part of a gang. Who’s? I had no idea. 
That was until a fat man in a tuxedo and a cane walked up to my father. He handed him a bundle of cash, they whispered some hurried words and the grotesque man leaned down towards me.
His short fat finger booped my nose, and the man tilted his head back and laughed at my reaction. I wanted to bite his finger off. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom. 
For the next two years, my father did business with anyone that could pay him. Our life went from living by the penny to living in luxury. All due to my power. The richest of the rich, politicians, businessmen, criminals, and villains, all used my services. And eventually, they tried to buy me. 
That’s when I decided to run away. Or die trying.
Gotham City: Present Day 
I sat across from Sam, my best friend, and nurse colleague. “What do you think I should do?” She was the only one that I trusted enough to tell everything to. Of course, I left out the whole, ‘My boss would be Batman thing.’ 
“Girl, if you don’t take this job I will kill you,” Sam said, taking a large bite of her pasta. 
“Do you think I’m betraying my younger self? I promised I would never be bought. I would never work for a corrupt man.” 
“Maybe you should discuss with Mr. Wayne, that you would like to remain a nurse part-time. That way you ease your conscious about everything but still live in a fucking MANSION and make BANK, you dummy head. And this way you’re reclaiming your past. You get to choose. You’re not trapped.” 
I mindlessly pushed my food around my plate, lost in thought. “That’s not a terrible idea.” 
“Of course not, I never have bad ideas. Take one more night to think about it. But I think you have your answer.” 
That night I tossed and turned in my bed. I grabbed my phone, the bright screen making me blink. 
[I accept your terms, but I do have a few remediations to the contract. Signed, y/f/n y/l/n.] 
One week later. 
 “How are you taking to your new living situation, Miss y/l/n?” Alfred asked as he expertly julienned an onion. I not as gracefully diced several cloves of garlic across from him. 
I looked up at him, smiling, “I’m still getting used to it, to be honest.” It had become a silent routine over the past week. When I wasn’t working at the hospital, or patching up Batman, I got bored. So, I started helping Alfred with cooking. 
He taught me how to play chess. I taught him how to play Skip-Bo and dominos. I had grown quite fond of the man over the short period. It most definitely was my daddy issues clinging to the first nice man I saw. But Alfred Pennyworth seemed truly kind to me. 
I hadn’t met any other members of Bruce’s family, but supposedly they were all meeting for dinner tonight. For some reason, my pulse spiked at the thought of meeting them. My past gave me anxiety when meeting new people I didn’t know. 
As if reading my thoughts Alfred asked, “How are you feeling about meeting everyone tonight?”
I cut a piece of garlic a bit harshly, “I’m– I’m fine. Do you know if I am to meet them after the dinner or before?”
Alfred’s eyebrows quirked, “What do you mean? You most probably will meet them at dinner. You are attending are you not?”
“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to eat with the family or not,” I stated, hesitantly. 
I heard a twang of metal as Alfred set down his knife. He gave me his full attention as he said, “Master Wayne may seem abrasive, Miss. But I assure you, he would never have to eat separately unless that is what you wished.” 
Abrasive was one way to put it. He often reminded me of a feral cat when I tried to heal him. He would practically hiss that he was fine. I had to politely remind my employer a few times that this was what I was here for and to let me heal him. 
We cooked in silence for a while, when out of the blue I asked Alfred, “Alfred, are you happy?”
Alfred always holding his poise answered calmly, “Happiness is something that fluctuates in my life, Miss. I will say that knowing that Master Wayne and the rest of the family are in your capable hands is reassuring me as of late. I also have been enjoying your company, no matter how many times you beat me in Skip-Bo.”
I laughed, a true genuine laugh. “Hey, you win every time we play chess!”
Alfred smiled softly, “Miss I have been playing chess since I was five years old. If I lost I think I would have to revoke my Englishmanship.” 
After my laughter died down, another question popped in my head, “What are they like? Mr. Wayne’s family?”
Alfred smiled, “Those children are loud, argumentative, loyal, funny, stubborn, etc. I love those children with everything I am. You will too, Miss y/l/n.”
An unfamiliar sense of warmth bloomed in my chest, “Thank you, Alfred.”
“Thank you, Miss y/l/n.”
As I was getting dressed. I could not pick out what I wanted to wear. Did I want to go casual with a tee shirt and jeans? A bit more formal with a dress? Semi-casual with a skirt and sweater? I decided on the last one, with some tights on underneath. I wanted to make a good impression. It felt like the first day of school. I made my way down the stairs. No one had arrived yet. I took a seat next to Alfred, my leg bouncing. 
Alfred patted my shoulder when we heard the door open, “It will be just fine.” 
The loud oncoming footsteps mimicked my thundering pulse.
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khepiari · 2 months
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Luffy is so spoiled because of Ace too
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My headcanon is that, Luffy being such an annoying gremlin is partly Ace’s fault as well. Yes, Sabo was there, and so were Makino and Mayor, Dadan and Gang and of course Garp in some brutal capacities.
I totally believe Luffy’s most formative years of learning happened when: that one year Shanks docked in Windmill Village and told him stories of his great many ocean adventures, and the rest of his life's education happened in the four years he spent running after Ace.
Ace is the elder sibling who had to step up to protect and care for Luffy because the adults in their lives were so incompetent. Especially after Sabo’s “death” he had to sober up. Between the three of them, Sabo was the one who was always kind, and patient and treated Luffy for the child he was. With him gone as the rational and calm one and after the Bear attack incident which almost killed Luffy, Ace had to step up, and actually grow up in a sense; he was no longer the lonely boy fending for himself, and picking fights just to channel his powerlessness and anger. Luffy's existence made him a better human and gave him a chance to be his own person. He became responsible as he had a weak crybaby and who for lack of a better word was — a fool with no sense of self-preservation. And because Ace had no point of reference, let alone a healthy sense of relationships, he raised Luffy like a feral wolf pup that he picked up the streets on a whim and spoiled him rotten to the point of dumb clingy.
On the other-hand, Ace was Luffy’s safe space. He would fight, cry, bite, get hurt, make mistakes, pull Ace into trouble and still follow Ace around with a stupid big smile because he knew Ace would protect and indulge him. Ace’s presence allowed Luffy to thrive and become the epitome of spoilt rotten. Because no matter what nonsense troubles he got into, he had Ace to look after him.
Yes, Luffy was always a selfish little shit who did what he wanted, but Ace enabled him to the point of getting away with anything as long as he was not intentionally harming anyone. I also think Ace wanted to make sure Luffy’s then innocent and happy world was not marred by people’s unkind words or actions, and he did a tremendous job— because Luffy listened to him, or at least tried to. Luffy was the little brother, to be precise, Luffy was his little brother, his only family, his chosen one who was a handful and his only ray of hope in this hateful world. But he knew who he was raising and how he was raising Luffy. Unlike Ace, who was burdened and bothered by the history of his lineage, made sure Luffy was not affected by any of his own dark thoughts or Garp's bullying. So his approach to raising Luffy was to both pamper him and prepare him with one goal: for Luffy to become independent and fearless.
After all a wolf is a wolf, he can be trained not domesticated.
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gerugeon · 8 months
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Elemental is still living rent free in my head haha and since I finally finished a big commission I was working on the past month, I can draw some personal stuff yaay
I got inspired by @paperbagedhead , @abbytabbys and @cyndavilachase with their Elemental oc kids, so I wanted to design a child for Wade and Ember as well =) I wasn't too creative with the name I reckon, but I couldn't think of another name that I liked.
I thought that when Misty was a toddler she struggle to keep floating in the same place, and was often blown away by the wind (which made her temporarily afraid of heights, the irony). So, in her early years she would often be wearing her mother's dress and boots to stay in the same place. (She did not like the weight of the clothes, though).
In her teens, Misty became a lot more reserved and had difficulty connecting with other elements, since her parents were one of the first inter-elemental couples in the city. She really wanted to fit in and tried to apply for the junior windbreakers (I loved this idea from @cyndavilachase), but got rejected because she wasn't "windy" enough for the games. These were challenging years for Misty, since she struggled a lot trying to be more "watery" or "fiery" but never really fitting in.
As an adult, Misty finally found her true passion and self-confidence, becoming an engineer. Since she is made of steam, I wanted to give her kind of a steampunk vibe, which carries an interesting mix of water and fire motifs. She enjoys solving problems and building devices. I envision that she would mainly work fixing old pipes and structures in Firetown, and in a near future, she'd build better air transportations suited for fire people.
Misty got her mother's knack for building stuff. She often tries to solve things in the most logical way. It is very difficult to make her truly angry, but when she does… (I'm still trying to figure out more ideas for her, but I think this is it for now. Hope you like the sketches! I had a lot of fun)
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stubz · 3 months
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late shift
Shuttle for Mars is departing now. Please keep hands, feet, tails, and other appendages clear of the yellow line.
‘Nice, finally get off work on time for once! Man is it empty, way less busy than the 5:45 one…
Are they sleeping? Please tell me they’re sleeping…’
“Snnrk…”
‘Oh good they are, oooh lots of empty seats next to them! Nice.’
The young human sits across the large figure and looks around.
‘Wonder why everyone else is sitting so far away from this guy? He’s not that much scarier than a Alteauh…OH! He’s an Orc! An actual Orc, oh this is so cool! Wait. Calm down, control yourself. Orc’s are people too, not some exotic animal in a zoo….he’s sooo cool looking tho!’
The human smiles and takes out their headphones and listens to some music and take in the view they see through the shuttle’s windows. From time to time they peek at the orc, can’t helping themselves from people-watching him.
Like what most humans imagined, he was huge. Easily more than 7 feet tall, with large calloused hands bigger than their head. He had large tusks but unlike the stereotypes he was well trimmed with well relatively kept hair. It would have neater had there not been dust in it. The orc wore dirty cloths and work boots. Beside them what looked like a tool box and bag.
‘Must be a construction worker or works in a trade’ they mused
‘Poor guy, he’s gotta be exhausted to sleep here. At least he gets to go home now.’
The shuttle shakes and with it so does the sleeping giant. Rocking side to side.
'That's not good.' They nervously slide off their headphones.
The turbulence increases until the sleeping orc leans too far and starts fall face first off his seat.
“OH SHIT!” Diving to their knees they manage to catch his head and shoulders.
“Mm?”
“You okay?” Damn he's heavy!
“Mmm…sorry.” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he slowly got back into his seat, the turbulence now gone.
“No worries, I just didn’t want you to hit your head.”
“Heh, wouldn't be the first time I’ve done it.”
after rubbing his eyes a bit more and a crack of the neck he looks at them, brain finally working to some degree.
“…wait. You caught me?”
“Uh-huh”
“But you’re so small! Are you hurt?”
“You're not the first sleeping giant I’ve caught. I’m alright.”
“I am so sorry for that. I just finished working a 12 hour shift fixing the 1st and 3rd engine rooms and couldn’t help myself from dozing off.”
They whistle. “12 hours? No wonder you’re tired! If I were you I’d be in a coma.”
“Ah but surely you have a difficult job yourself. How else would you be able to catch me?��
“No, nothing like yours! I just work at a youngling centre.”
“The one on the ship?”
“That’s the one.”
“...YOUR ONE OF THE BRAVE WARRIORS WHO RISKED THEIR LIVES TO PROTECT THE CHILDREN??!”
“…you’ve heard of us?”
“Every orc and warrior worth their blade knows of your valiant deeds!! Tell me, what is your name??”
“Kim, uh and you are?”
“Fenrir. It is truly an honor to meet someone of your bravery and intelligence."
"Likewise! I've heard that the orc species are a true warrior race."
For the rest of the trip the two talked. Kim sharing how her and Max built such a safe room in the centre, which lead to the two realizing how similar each other's planets are.
"You have wind whirlpools as well? I thought they only existed on Bantor!"
"Well we call them hurricanes and tornadoes but yeah. Do you guys have hail?"
"Not where I grew up but nearby farther up they get a week or two of light hail showers during the fall. What about animals? Do you have reptiles bigger than an adult with large teeth and live in rivers? We call them darthrang."
"Oh we call them crocodiles!"
"Amazing! To think that your species live in a world much like mine!"
When the shuttle finally reached it's destination the two went their separate ways. A few days later they meet again, this time on the later shuttle. They sit and talk and create a routine of sorts where they became each others travelling companion for the trip to Mars.
One day however, Fenrir stopped coming. The human was saddened as she enjoyed his company but was soon surprised when seeing him at the centre.
"Kim! I've been transferred to stay on the ship so I won't be taking the shuttle to Mars anymore."
"Oh...well, as you know I only go home at the end of the week so maybe we can hang out now. Like eat lunch together or have a drink after work...or something like that!"
"Actually we'll be seeing each other everyday now. But if you don't get sick of me then yes, lets each lunch together."
"Great! But why will I be seeing you everyday?"
"Because after telling my family about you and the centre they've enrolled my nieces and nephews and younger siblings here...and I offered to drop them off and pick them up."
It was then that Kim noticed the dozen of orc children hiding behind Fenrir. The tallest and what looked the eldest of them stepped forward.
"Hello, I am Athea, uncle Fenrir said your one of the ones who saved the centre."
"Yes, my name is Kim. It's great to meet you AtheaaAA!" The orc girl pulled the human into a tight hug, lifting the adult woman off of her feet.
"Thank you for saving Nova." she mumbled into her chest.
'Ah, the Captain's daughter' Kim thought. "I was just doing what any teacher would do."
After a moment the human was put down and lead the children into the centre. The day went well. Fenrir's young family members were quickly won over by the humans, first with the saving of the centre, then with how they understood how wonderful their planet was rather than terrifying or deadly.
They were also greatly intrigued by how such a small species could survive in a planet that was thought to only be habitable to orcs.
"How can you carry us?" asked Thor, one of Fenrir's youngest brothers. "We're much bigger than a human child."
"Yeah but your not bigger than my cousins who are teenagers. Also just last month I had like 10 kids climbing on me. Two were tighalaxes."
"Your joking!"
...
"It that tumpon?!"
"Hm? We call it maafe, but it's also known as peanut stew, do you want some? It doesn't have any meat in it though."
"Guys Max has tumpon!! Can you tell Fenrir where we can buy the ingredients?"
"Of course. Finally I'll finish what gran gave me without having to gain 10 pounds."
And thus the first day ended on a high note! Now if only Kim could figure out why the children looked at her and nodded while talking to Fenrir...
So this based off of a post by @llamagoddessofficial about humans meeting actual space orcs. Sadly I can't find the actual post. but yeah, here u go, space orc and human meet cute
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eddieschains · 10 months
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It’s Really Over, Isn’t It?
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A/N: this is a repost from when i first started my blog
Word Count: 1.6k
Part 2 Part 3
7 months and 23 days. That’s how long it’s been since you last saw Eddie. You spent 3 years together, pushed him to focus on graduating, until he pushed you out. At least that’s how you saw it.
You knew he wanted to take Corroded Coffin farther than Gareth’s garage, farther than The Hideout, farther than Hawkins, but you always figured he’d wait for you. He always knew your plans to go to college, and promised to stick around for you. He must’ve forgotten about that promise.
“Y/N I can’t stay here. I need to leave, need a fresh start, need to make something of myself other than being a freak and an outcast.”
“And what about me Eddie? Do you not remember the promise you made to me? That you’d wait for me? That we’d start fresh together?”
“Then come with me.”
“You know I can’t do that Eddie. We both have dreams and we both need to make those come true but I don’t understand why you can’t do that here?”
“This is Hawkins! No one cares about me or about my music here!”
“I care about you! I care about you and I thought you cared about me too.”
“I do but… I’m sorry I need to do this for myself. Wait for me. I’ll be back. I promise.”
“I’ve heard those words before.”
Even though he shattered your heart into a million pieces, you did what he asked. You waited. You waited for months without a visit, a letter, or even a phone call. You waited until you couldn’t wait anymore.
Starting to come with the terms that he wasn’t coming back, you doubled down and tried your best to move on. You focused on your school work and got a job at the local video store. You soon became close friends with the other people who worked there, Steve and Robin. You faintly remembered them from school but never had a conversation.
They comforted and consoled you every time you came into work with mascara stained tears on your face, or when they watched the way you jumped every time a boy with long brown hair and a jean jacket walked in.
You and Steve grew particularly close, both of you bonding over your recent heartbreaks. The two of you never had the intention of starting a romantic relationship with each other, but after spending so much time together and having so much in common, it kind of just happened.
Steve had finally gotten fed up with both living in Hawkins and living with his parents, so he decided to get a place of his own. Feeling the same way, it was only natural that you’d go with him. At least someone wanted you to be part of their plans.
It was finally moving day, and Steve gathered a couple of his friends to help you guys pack and load everything into the back of the BMW. It also gave you guys time to say your goodbyes before you start living like true adults. You weren’t going to be too far from Hawkins, but you knew you weren’t going to have as much time to visit as you’d like.
“All right babe, I think that’s the last of it.” Steve says, shutting the trunk full of boxes. You smile and nod before turning to the gang.
“My god I can’t believe you guys are leaving me.” Robin blurted, pulling you in for a hug. “Now who’s going to help me pick out cute girls at the store?”
You chuckled, “I guess you’ll have to leave that to Keith.” Robin makes a gagging noise before pulling Steve in for a hug as well.
“Hey, you.” You look at Dustin, seeing tears trying to form in his eyes. “We’re only going to be 30 minutes away. And you can visit anytime you want.” You reassure him, rubbing his shoulder.
“Just sucks. First Eddie and now you guys…” He trails off. You feel a pit in your stomach at the mention of his name. No one really talked about him around you, not wanting to bring up the pain again. “Shit. Sorry.”
You smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay Dusty Bun.” You wrap your arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’ll be back soon.”
You turn to the sound of keys jingling, looking to see Steve motioning you into the car. You say your final goodbyes before hopping in the passenger seat.
The drive is quiet. Nothing but the radio and the sound of cars passing by. Your head is leant up against the window, watching the Hawkins trees slowly disappear in the car mirror.
Steve takes notice, placing a hand on your thigh. “You okay?” You jump at his sudden touch.
“Y-yeah i’m fine.” You place your hand over his and flash a smile. You weren’t fine. You couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. It wasn’t Dustin’s fault for bringing him up, but ever since you heard his name leave his mouth, it’s all you could think about.
About how he was supposed to be the one you got an apartment with. He was supposed to be the one you left Hawkins with. He was supposed to be the one you started the rest of your life with. But you had to push that all behind you. You had Steve now, and Eddie wasn’t coming back. It had been 7 months for christ’s sake.
Finally reaching the apartment complex, Steve stays behind to fill out the remaining paperwork while you start to bring the boxes inside. The apartments are decent, not glamorous by any means, but definitely the nicest units you and Steve could afford.
You were walking up the stairs to your new home, box in hand when you heard a familiar voice. It caught you off guard. You knew that voice. It sounded just like Eddie, but you brushed it off thinking it could never be him.
You set the box down outside the door before running back to the car to grab another box. Walking back up the stairs, you see a tall man with long curly hair and a leather jacket on. There’s absolutely no way it’s him. At least that’s what you thought. He turned to face you when he heard your footsteps, and the both of you stopped dead in your tracks.
“Y/N?” He questioned. You could feel the heat rushing to your head, trying to figure out if this was reality or if you were dreaming. “Hey… it’s me.”
“Eddie.” You blurt out, blinking your eyes rapidly to see if you could wake yourself up. It doesn’t work, and you’re faced with quite possibly the worst thing that could happen to you on this day. “Hi.”
“Hey… uh what are you doing here?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking you up and down.
“Uh i’m moving in.” You respond, holding the box up for him to see. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh… uh my uncle moved in here, needed to leave Hawkins.” Of course he did. Something the two of them had in common.
“Oh nice nice. Uh- I should really start moving these in.” You try to walk past him to your door before he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.
“Wait. Can we talk?”
“I don’t know what you’d want to talk about Eddie. You left, I moved on, that’s that.”
“I don’t want that to be it.” He’s staring into your eyes, and you see the remorse behind his brown corneas.
“You left me Eddie. You left me and you didn’t write, didn’t call, didn’t visit. I don’t know what else you want from me.” You pushed past him, setting the box down with the others.
“I know I did, trust me I know. But, I waited for you. I know I hurt you and I wanted to give you space but- I thought you’d reach out eventually.”
“Why would I do that? 3 years Eddie. That’s how long we were together until you threw it all away. Until- until you broke my heart.” You feel the tears creeping up, trying to suppress them. “And i’m sorry but I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who isn’t going to just throw me away like I never existed.”
He hangs his head in shame, taking in what you’re saying to him. And he knows it’s true. All of it. He knows you deserve better. He looks down at the boxes and points to one of them. “Why does that say Steve on it?”
Shit.
“Uh that’s my boyfriends.” You shyly explain.
“Boyfriend? Who-uh-who’s Steve? Where is he?” You now see the tears starting to form in his own eyes.
“Steve Harrington.”
“King fucking Steve? Seriously?” He yells, but it’s not an angry yell. It’s a yell of sadness. The realization that he lost his chance.
“Yeah. King Steve.” You almost chuckle at the nickname.
“You guys are living here… together?”
“I mean that’s the plan, yeah.” You respond.
“So it’s really over, isn’t it?” This time he can’t hold back his tears. Letting all of the emotions he’s held in up to this point flow out.
You look at him, the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with, and he’s broken. You don’t know what LA did to him, but you knew it wasn’t good. He would’ve never acted like this before he left and you knew that. You can’t respond with words, just your eyes. But he understands.
Suddenly, you hear footsteps and look to find Steve coming up the steps. Finally. He’s carrying a car seat in his hand, sleeping baby sat inside of it.
“Whose baby is that?” Eddie questions the both of you. You look at Steve, who’s looking between you and Eddie.
Fuck.
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heartfullofleeches · 10 months
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Yan Clown/Circus + Imaginary Friend Darling Blurb
Throughout life, friends come and go, but you - were always the first.
Things were simple in the beginning. Sit with that lonely kid at the playground, wipe their face with your sleeves, and ask if they wanted to be friends. They always said yes. You were inseparable. Playing until streetlights came on plus a seat saved for you at the dinner table when they reluctantly returned home. The biggest fears you faced where the monsters under the bed and the dark... then came school, homework, the future. Your playdates became so far and few, they put in the efforts to make new friends and you were so happy for them.
"Y/n? Who's that? Quit talking to yourself and come hang out with us."
But none of them ever wanted to be yours. Your friend was never home anymore and when they were it was always school work or video games taking their attention. Your place at the table was given to someone else. They'd gradually drift away from speaking to you and it was like you never existed in the first place to them, and maybe you never did - so you left. Back to that empty that existed before it all. There, you remembered all your friends. All your precious memories and the treasures they gave you their parents questioned them about when they disappeared. You hated it there. You didn't want to reminisce on the good times - it only lead to wordless goodbyes. Why - why did they always leave you behind?
"I got invited to a slumber party this weekend... Everyone turned out to be so nice once I gave them a chance like you told me to.... You'll... always be my best friend, but I have real ones now. I'm not a kid anymore - and I can't live in a fantasy world forever."
Of course you always knew - but did your time together really mean nothing? The smiles and tears, joys and fears - were those fake too? This was how life for you went and has gone your entire path. Make a new friend, wait for them to make their own, force yourself to forget, and repeat. You never, ever blamed them for abandoning you. It was your biggest dream to see your friends go out in the world and do all the things you rambled about for hours - you just wished you could've been their when they made their dreams come true. If they could make those fantasies reality, why couldn't you be real too them? It's not fair-
"Hey! You gonna put your raspberry in the square yet? I don't mind waiting cuz you're really cute - but I've eaten most of the blueberries already and if I eat one more I won't have enough for a win."
A new friend - you kept them waiting, lost in your thoughts like that. There's something different about this one... They're a lot bigger than your old friends and dress strange just like those funny people in shows. How old are they?
"28..... Is my favorite number because that's how many waffles I can eat before throwing up. I dunno my age really, I like a lot of candles on my pie so it's hard to remember. I'm probably waaaaaay older - or younger, but I'm definitely not younger than eighteen because I get a new doll every year - and there's a ton. Hey, when's your birthday so we can get your collection started?"
An adult - An adult can see you, but why?
"Hmmm, I dunno how you got in here either. I was just thinking about how great it would be to have someone to eat all these waffles with since I made 29 today - and poof you appeared outta nowhere. You gotta so me that trick eventually - wanna be pals? I'll give you... a quarter, no- half the stack if ya stick around. My name's Gus. Gus the clown."
A clown... Alot of your friends loved those, others were terrified. This one reminded you alot of them. So silly and carefree, just like they always were before reality kicked in. It was never that way for Gus. You'll never forget the shocked look on their face when you told them chocolate milk didn't come from brown cows. They serenaded you with songs detailing your adventures together and nearly had a heart attack when you played peekaboo together which they later tried to play off as good acting - the tear smudges in their paint was just from hot how was is.
At the same time, Gus was far more mature they let on. They fantasized about finding the missing piece to their act and heart, and hopefully marrying that special someone someday. They were all smiles - but as soon as someone got hurt they knew when to drop the act and when to use it to their advantage. You prayed the day they found someone they wouldn't ditch you like everyone else.
It turned out there were a lot more like Gus. True to their status as a performer, they worked and lived in a traveling circus with others who were accepting of you - and had the eyes to see you. They never doubted your existence like parents used to and believed near ever word Gus said even when at the point in time you were nothing more than the ramblings of a mad-clown, and greeted you in kind. Overtime, you became corporal for these performers too and the brief hellos turned to bear hugs thrust upon dolls Gus' sibling made for everyone to have when they wanted sat hello. They still couldn't touch you, but for the first time everyone knew you were their and love you the same, if not more than the friend you came for. Sometimes it really did feel like you were a real person. If only....
"Ouch!"
You pull your hand away from Gus' as the clown bursts into a fit of giggles - yelping in pain as they clap their hands together, electrocuting themselves on the buzzer.
Whoo! That definitely sends a shock through ya. Can't believe that got you. Hey - that got you... you've never been hurt by any of the things we've done before."
They're right. That really did hurt. Wait. It hurt. You've never been able to interact with anything before - leaving Gus overwhelmed on brunch dates when they devoured your share. What's going on?
Gus expresses the confusion you're both feeling with a high-pitched scream. They dart around the room, nabbing their emergency supplies of candy from beneath their pillow. "Ahhhh, idea - Y/n, try one of these - hurry!"
You take one of the licorice sticks and shove it in your mouth. If picked up the treat wasn't proof enough, the explosion of flavor on your tongue confirmed your theories.
"It's...good."
Gus races in a circles, squeeling in delight as they grab and pinch your plush - warm cheeks. "They've never been warm before! This is amazing. Ahhh, next test- here goes!"
Shutting their eyes, Gus rams their lips against yours - grinning with teeth against your skin. They kiss your lips, cheeks, and noses - smothering you with a hug, soaking up the beat of your speeding heart.
"You have no idea long I've wanted to do that...."
You're still reeling from everything going on. "W-what's happening, Gus?"
"No clue! If you want my guess, I'd say so many people believing in you made you real like that one movie with the puppet. The others! Oh, man everyone's gonna love this! Come on!"
Gus picks you up and sprints to the main show room. They gather everyone into the area along with the biggest mirror they could find. They try to explain, but the excitement gets the better of them. Frustrated by everyone's agreeable questions - they rip off the blanket covering the mirror and your reflection, and the crowd goes wild.
"That wasn't there before! Can we touch Y/n now???"
"I call dibs on giving them their first piggyback ride!"
"Wonderful timing! I knitted you a lovely scarf before I forgot you technically were a figment of our combined imaginations."
"If they're really here and can touch stuff... They can be part of the show - can't they?"
Thats right. You'd fit right in with your history too. After a celebratory dinner and cuddle session - the preparations for your big debut were made. As expected, everyone loved you. You and Gus were the starting act, and two halves of the same whole. People saw you, they praised you, loved you. The adoration of the crowd was like no other, but everything after the curtains were closed was even better. Gus kept to their promise of never leaving you behind. You were that missing piece - someone they couldn't live without. It was time for you to finally grow up and leave the ghosts of the past where they lied.
"Aw, don't be like that, sweetie. You'll love it once we get there."
This is bullshit. Their college gradation and their folks were dragging them to some circus. Luckily they had a few buds pull through for an aftershow at a nearby bat.
"Maybe your opinion will change when you see the staring act. That clown reminds me a lot of that friend you used to go on about. What was their name again? I think it was -"
Y/n. Your name and smiling face were plastered on a billboard they passed. It was no vague resemblance - that was their first companion down to the scrunchie you wore around your wrist that they gave you on the day they gave you the lukewarm mercy of a goodbye. It couldn't really be you - right?
"Look how big you've grown...."
No-
"Your parents tell me you're graduating this year. I'm so, so proud of you. Are you going to become a scientist just like you said?"
How?
"You always said it was so you could find a way for everyone to see me too... I'm sorry for holding you back for so long. It's good that you made friends. I made alot too - really good ones. With them, I can live in fantasy and the real world at the same time. It's so much fun."
What are you apologizing for? Why are you acting like you're the one that abandoned them. You were everywhere to them. Everything they ever achieved was because of the shoulder you gave them to lean on. Being with you was like a dream - but everyone has to wake up eventually.
"Oops! Looks like a wasted all our time. I have a few more scheduled greets, but maybe if you stay after we can chat a little more before you leave. See you!"
They don't want to leave. There's still so much to be explained; to say and do, but just like them - you were gone as you appeared. They had to see you again in a better time. Do imaginary friends drink coffee?"
"How's it feel to be the one on the other end of the stick?"
Another clown stands behind them. It was the same one that shared your act. Gus. What do they want?
"Y'know I know alllll about what happened between you two. I know everything from their past since as their bestest friend - and potential future spouse - it's my job to make them loved enough to spill every, little detail. You shouldn't have come here. You're not the first to recognize them - and you won't be the last.
The ball of their wrist juts painfully against their skin as the clown grabs their arm.
"I won't let any of you get back into their heart. I won't let anyone hurt them again. You can't just take back what you broke when someone else fixes it. I'll make you feel what they felt. I'll make them forget you - and anyone who tries to take them from us that I promise and promises are meant to be kept. Quick question before you go though - think Y/n will like these matching necklaces I made us? Anything looks cute when its on them - but think it'll fit better than that old scrunchie."
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Note
Child reader who hates physical touch and I mean absolutely despise it but sometimes clingy to poe and akutagawa too feel comfortable because of their social anxiety
No pats
Self-Aware! Platonic! Edgar Allan Poe x GN! Child! Reader x Self-Aware! Platonic! Akutagawa Ryunosuke
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Description: You are the cutest kid ever. Such a shame, that you don't like pats and hugs. Or, do you?
Warning: OOC. English is my second language
_____
🧥🦝 It was quite a surprise for BSD Cast, when they learned, that you are a child.
🧥🦝 They were a little bit worried. You are a kid, and you have read about some dark stuff in their manga. Aren't you too young to read about mafia, criminals and cities destruction?
🧥🦝 Well... There is nothing they can do about it. Besides, this revelation won't change much for them. They still adore you.
🧥🦝 How could they not adore you? You are sweet and cute child.
🧥🦝 After a little friendly competition between adult characters of an "acceptable for being an adopted parent", you were officially adopted by Bram.
🧥🦝 Bram is your guardian de jure. De facto you are adopted by every member of BSD Gang.
🧥🦝 BSD Cast do everything to make you feel happy. But, there is one little thing. And it makes them nervous.
🧥🦝 You hated any form of physical affection.
🧥🦝 Every time, someone tried to give you a head pat, you either froze or tried to dodge. And, while less tense, you didn't like, when other kids touched you.
🧥🦝 It made everyone feel puzzled and nervous.
🧥🦝 Were they scarring you? Has someone hurt you in the past? Maybe, they have rushed things, and you didn't want to be adopted by them?
🧥🦝 They decided to deal with the possibility of you being hurt in the past. Your medical records didn't show much. You were a healthy baby and healthy kid. But, documents can be forged.
🧥🦝 They needed to hear about your past from someone from your past. Teachers and people from orphanage.
🧥🦝 Time to call for Mushitarou's and Ango's abilities.
_______
"I swear, I didn't do anything bad! Please, don't hurt me!" Orphanage's director begged, trying to get away from Akutagawa.
Akutagawa's grip became stronger. Mafioso hissed. Rashomon slowly raised its head above Akutagawa's shoulder.
"I don't believe you. Why [Y/N] is so nervous, when someone are touching them?"
Director mewled, sobbed and lost consciousness.
Akutagawa rolled his eyes and lose his grip on Director. Man fall down on the floor, like a bag of potatoes.
Akutagawa stepped away and left the Director's office. He hopped, that Man-tiger could find something.
________
🧥🦝 Meanwhile, Poe decided to simply talk to you.
_______
You were enjoying your cake. Poe, who sat on the opposite side of the table, observed your movements. Karl was sitting on your lap. You wanted to give him a piece of your cake, but Poe warned you not to do this. Karl could become sick because of the cake.
"[Y/N], can I ask you something?" Poe's voice was warm and shooting. You nodded, silently chewing the sweet treat. Poe smiled. You looked like a hamster.
"[Y/N], are we scaring you? You always freeze, when someone tries to give you a head pat. Even when Q and Elise tried to hug you, you jumped away from them."
You swallow and shook your head.
"No! No! I love living with you. I just don't like being touched!"
Poe thought over your answer and asked another question.
"That's it? We won't be angry, if you feel nervous around us. It's okay to feel nervous in this situation."
You shook your head again.
"That's it. I always hated to be touched."
Poe just nodded. It's fine. He must tell others about it. So they won't make you upset anymore.
_______
🧥🦝 Akutagawa, Atsushi, Ango and Mushitarou didn't learn anything new about you. Everyone called you a sweet, quiet child, who have never got into troubles. At least, they've proved, that you weren't hurt in the past.
🧥🦝 When they returned home, Poe told them, what he has learned about you.
______
🧥🦝 Everything were fine.
🧥🦝 All of you slowly learned to be a family. You became more talkative. You started spending time with BSD Cast more often. You still didn't like physical affection. BSD Cast respected it.
🧥🦝 One day, something interesting happened.
🧥🦝 When you and Poe were getting groceries.
_______
The grocery store was almost empty.
As usual, you were walking close to Poe. As usual, weren't holding his hand or grabbing his sleeve. Poe kept a close eye on you.
Everything went fine. Until you two reached the candy aisle.
The bunch of kids, same age as you, were discussing their favorite candies. Kids were quite loud. But not loud enough to be asked to leave the store.
Then, Poe felt it. Two small hands grabbing his sleeve, and a child's face being pressed against his arm.
Poe looked at you. You looked nervous, glancing at the kids from time to time. You looked anxious.
Poe knew, too well, how social anxiety looked like. He carefully put his free hand on your head. You didn't move. You looked slightly grateful for having Poe's hand on your head.
"Want to leave?" whispered Poe. You nodded. Poe freed his arm from yours, took your hand, and went to the cash register.
You kept holding his hands. You let it go only when Poe and you almost reached home.
______
🧥🦝 You became more open in Poe's presence. You sent time in his room, playing with Karl, doing homework and reading books. Sometimes, you cling to Poe, when you felt nervous about school festivals/class gatherings.
🧥🦝 Soon, you found second person to be as open as you were with Poe.
🧥🦝 An unexpected one.
_____
You didn't like excursions. So many people around you makes you feel anxious. You take a deep breath. It didn't help to lessen your anxiety. So, you decide to move to the next step.
You clung to Akutagawa, who was accompanying you today.
Mafioso looked at you. He was slightly puzzled. But, after noticing your expression, unbuttoned his coat, hiding you with it.
"Thanks..." whispered you, clinging to Akutagawa's side.
"No problems," shrugged Akutagawa, giving you a headpat.
_____
🧥🦝 Now you have two people you go to, when you feel anxious. You liked to spend time with Poe and Akutagawa. Sometimes, you let them give you a headpat.
🧥🦝 Maybe, one day, you will cling to more people.
🧥🦝 For now, you have Older Brother Poe and Older Brother Akutagawa.
🧥🦝 And they will always be there for you.
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runby2 · 4 months
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hi it's the creator of horse plinko and other huge posts on this site.
i wanted to make a quick post on here, not to keep everyone updated on my life, because i'm going to keep staying far away from social media, but to let everyone know that if you feel like you are endlessly changing yourself to fit your following's perfect standards, you are not actually getting better as a person. why do i say this? growing up, i had a horrible childhood and it was hard to grasp a sense of self, so the internet was a good escape. i made posts about current topics, tried to get a lot of notes, and when i got those notes i felt like my life had a purpose. i didn't let myself ever find out who i truly was because early on i was so obsessed with being the perfect persona on the internet and avoiding home life, that i had literally linked my life cable to the internet. i was the living definition of chronically online. i was so young too, so i saw a bright future ahead of myself. "it can only go up from here." 3 years of complete isolation happened after my 18 years in a cult, and recovering from mental institutional abuse. and i went by juicedoesthings. and i fought with every part of myself, ignoring my DID and even having alters post inspirational paragraphs about why DID is 'something i know i don't have because ___'- some you can probably still find on this blog buried deep somewhere - i was lost in a cycle of amnesia and perfectionism to the point ALL of my identities were juicedoesthings, and we were all the same, and if one of us stepped out of line, we'd shun it. we couldn't risk being problematic. we couldn't risk everything we've worked up to be crumble. because that was all we were. don't make your identity a username. don't keep track of what is and is not acceptable at the current time in a fandom of any sort. don't curate your art just because a discourse blog reblogged it for clout. don't overthink some personal statement you made just because thirty people sent you personalized death threats. don't forget about nuance, and in the most sincere way i can communicate this, touch grass. and find out what comforts you. learn what makes you happy, not what can improve you. this post will probably be drowned under reblogs as my life goes on and i occasionally check back into this ghost town of what used to be my only identity. but tumblr fame has irreversibly damaged me, and how i perceive myself. it took so long for me to feel like it was okay to make mistakes. if the above sounds like you, i desperately urge you to find a way out of that cycle. don't chase fame online. anonymity can definitely get you where you want to be safely. over my years on here ive seen children adults and teens ask how to make a webcomic, how i got this many followers, how i became "me". i was conforming. i became perfect for the internet, but i didn't have any sense of self. don't be like me. don't become me. just create, and disconnect yourself from who you think you need to be in order to be enough.
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ayoogirlie · 8 months
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"Stars" Lilia Vanrouge x GN!Reader
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content: random thoughts, fluff to angst, general lilia fell in love with a human
note: it's my first work so I'm not confident with it, also I don't like the ending, could've done it better
word count: 485
not proof-read
Stars. For most people, they're just fireballs which decorate the night sky. For Lilia, they're friends who accompanied him on many lonely nights during the war. They were also with him when he met his unforgettable love for the first time.
It was a starry night. No clouds disturbed its peace of mind. Young fae took a stroll around their camp to make sure, if there weren't any enemies around. As he strayed farther away, he noticed a weak sight of smoke. He got closer to its source and noticed a small, wooden house. Light streamed out the windows, informing about the life inside him. Lilia came closer and looked through the glass barrier that protected the person inside the cottage. Its interior was equipped with only necessary gear like a table, a bed or a worktop. He paid it no mind and looked for a person who lived inside it.
In front of the large mirror stood a young adult. They've been checking out their attire, spinning around and posing. General found their act odd and thought that person was simply crazy. He shook his head and quietly left, finding that place unimportant and not threatening.
Stars accompanied him when he checked out on them again and again with the excuse of not trusting humans. They also were with him when he finally decided to strike up a conversation with that person. His reasoning? "They might be a spy." Lilia hated humans, it was a fact. So when he found himself drawn to the resident of the cottage, he concluded he was cursed by them. He was wary of that person, he wanted to keep them in check, but soon enough he just wanted to stay by their side. With them he felt at peace. He was ready to throw all his prejudice away.
The stars were there when the gentle brushes of their touch became more possessive, when their eyes were focused only on each other and when they whispered their vows to one another.
The only time the stars weren't there for him was when he had to say goodbye to his beloved. Who thought they could get involved in war? They were innocent soul who loved someone like him. That love killed them. He thought people wouldn't dare to touch his lover. Oh, how foolish he was. Villagers, who lived nearby, got rid of them because they were precious to a fae, to a general who terrified many living beings around him.
He buried his face in their already cold body. Various emotions were mixed in his heart, fighting for the lead. He wanted revenge, he wanted to make them all aware what awaits fools who dare to touch what's his. Even so, it wouldn't make him happy again since they're already dead. They wouldn't come back to him no matter what he did.
It was already too late for them.
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