#he will pay her with the truth ( and food ) eventually!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnamonest · 1 month

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What if Darling is the one trying to control her partner? She’s an overly naive and self-assured girl who suddenly decides she wants to mess with the feelings of an attractive man. She’ll try to manipulate, intimidate, and gaslight him until he breaks.

I’m dying how I want to see that sweet surprise in her eyes when she realizes she was the victim all along. A good, kind man suddenly shows his true face. He endured all her abuse just to trap her. How ironic!

Maybe it’ll be Zhongli - charming and courteous but actually hiding a creepy dark side. Or Childe - a guy who hides a lot of dark desires behind a carefree smile.

AAAAAAAAAAAAA anon this is stewing in my brain, because imagine Morax in his peak era when he would come down amongst the humans...

Some manipulative foreigner girl who travels from place to place, manipulating and bleeding men dry for as long as you stay there, only to disappear and go on to somewhere else once you've gotten everything he has. Never wanting to commit, always wanting more.

Men essentially take care of your travel expenses too — it's easy to use them for free lodging, food, and so on. You rarely pay for anything in life, other than the luxuries you get yourself with their money.

So when you arrive, you latch onto the first attractive stranger you see on the street, and he's more than receptive. He finds you endearing. It's very easy. You just notice the positive reception and immediately lay on the flirtation much thicker, and soon enough you're walking arm in arm around the harbor to show you around... in truth, you've been here before, but playing the clueless foreigner role always endears you to men, and it boosts their ego to feel like they're knowledgeable and helpful.

He falls for your tactics so easily, so it seems. Going along with whatever you want, immediately trying to placate you when you're mean and cold, bending to your will when you insinuate that you'll leave if he doesn't do this or that.

And he has so much money. You weren't expecting to score this lucky. You're not even sure where he's getting it from, it seems like he just keeps pulling it out of nowhere. Every time you even look at something, he's already pulling out more to buy it for you, all day long, until you go back to get a place at a nearby inn.

Of course, it's mutually understood and unspoken that with these sorts of exchanges, he's supposed to get sex out of it. That much you're willing to give, it would admittedly be difficult even for you to keep extracting money from men if you didn't at least put out eventually.

Often times it's disappointing, but thankfully this one is good in bed too. You feel like you couldn't get any luckier.

He feels the same way. Who would have thought that the same girl that all those used, discarded, distraught men pleaded about in prayers to their god, would show up yet again in this place, and such convenient timing too.

You've caused a good deal of both financial ruin and heartbreak alike, and he doesn't take too well to your promiscuity either. It would be an injustice to allow you to simply get away without due punishment.

Keeping you works out well. Those men who wanted revenge will at least have their prayers answered, you will be unable to wreck any more lives, and he gets a little gem in the rough, so to speak. Something that just has to be broken apart and fixed with enough effort, slowly worked into something perfect to own. It's more fun that way.

So he stays silent when you suddenly disappear, when you turn cold, when you brush him off. It's actually both good and bad for you— usually they get so angry, so it's good he wasn't too attached, but the pitiful ones usually let you extract just a bit more in hopes of getting you back, and you're actually rather frustrated when he just lets you leave, you huff and go back to your hotel, this time unfortunately having to pay for it.

But then, you're a little bewildered when you wake up somewhere different than where you fell asleep, somewhere you're unfamiliar with. You panic when you find yourself bound to the bed by a chain on your ankle. You panic worse when you see him looking over you, that malevolent grin — did he always have those teeth?

Yes, it's so adorable when your eyes well up with tears. He did like you in the first place for how cute you are, after all. You'll be a lot cuter when you cry — something he'll have plenty of opportunities to watch in the very near future.

#.zl #this reminds me of my goddess!darling... i need to make more of her too...

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auspicioustidings · 21 days

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Does this orc romance journey mean we might get orc 141 and reader thoughts???

See now I think the way the 141 lures in a nice human woman to fuck would be that not all of them are orcs.

Ghost and Soap are and they are mean looking fuckers. Ghost is covered in battle scars and is just unimaginably huge, Soap is so clearly a warrior with how his hair is shaved at the side with the top braided in a fighter's style.

But Price is a rough yet regal looking human man, the kind that is contracted to act as a guard for nice, noble women. Elven Gaz had thought it would be how they'd find a woman for all of them, that one of these nobles would take Price's eye and they could steal her away. After all he may enjoy how rough his three companions are, but part of him still misses a gentler touch, a more feminine energy to balance it all out.

It is not a noble woman in the end. There is one Price thinks to test, to introduce to his orcs. He doesn't love her, but she certainly is pretty to look at and perhaps the haughty arrogance might please his elf (it would not, Gaz is not much like his kin in taste).

Imagine Soap's surprise when he goes to grab this woman as Price is making a show of fighting off Ghost to see her reaction and he ends up with a knitting needle jammed into his side by her quiet mouse of a ladies maid. He is in love just from that, even as Ghost drags him away so Price can look the conquering hero he is twitterpated entirely, holding the bleeding wound in his side in a lovers caress.

Price pays attention to this maid afterwards having never truly looked her way before. He finds her clever, witty and scrappy as all hell. She is not the delicate beauty of her mistress but he comes to find his heart starts to race at the sight of her anyway. He discovers she grew up the eldest of 10 children to a poor family and that this position was one she clawed her way up to in order to support them as best she could. She makes such a good ladies maid because she can more or less do everything. It's her resourcefulness he falls for, how any task she is given she will find a way to deliver and not expect praise or adulation.

Gaz can't help but be curious when Price talks about her and decides to verify these claims, visiting the family home to find she was truthful. Her younger siblings are fascinated by his ears while her parents try to do their best to be worthy hosts of a visiting elf. They are crude peasants, their hovel small and messy and the food they serve not fit for even the lowest elf. But somehow he cannot help but feel such a pang of warmth from how they treat him like family even though he is only a stranger who was passing by and asked for shelter. He does not need to meet the girl to fall in love with her, he only needs to hear how her family talks about her.

It drives Ghost into a foul mood as the months go on and all his mates can fucking talk about is some useless human girl. He never wanted a woman with them, was rather hoping they'd get over this notion eventually. He means to ruin her, breaking into her room by cover of night and holding her to the bed while he undoes his trousers. He tries to shove himself down her throat and she damn near bites his prick off. Bloody mouthed and scowling she fights her fear and will not submit as he assumed she would so easily. He barks at her about how he will bloody her cunt with his now bloody cock. He does not in the end, only because he falls for her the moment she barks back that she will bite his bloody cock clean off even while he can scent the flood of arousal between her legs from the idea of him taking her. He decides then that he will have this human woman only when she begs for him and he will do whatever he damn well must to make that happen.

#mhairidrabbles #mhairianswers #I just like the idea of this rejected pack of creatures #like any orc or elf would find them deplorable for touching someone of the other race #and even worse they take orders from a human? it is unthinkable to their kin

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iwas-princess · 1 year

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my birthday girl • suna rintaro

summary: suna loves his pretty girlfriend endlessly, so he goes all out for her birthday.

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

a/n: hi, this is my first post in a while. i decided to crawl out of my cave for my bestie @ilovesillycats birthday!!! i hope you all enjoy <3

“happy, baby?”

suna’s fingers ran along your inner thigh as he leaned in, sending a shiver down your spine at the tickle.

you smiled prettily in return to his question, nodding softly to confirm.

“very.”

the moment your soft breath hit his face he grinned before snaking a hand below your seat and pulled your chair closer to him. the loud screech of the iron legs against the tile floor caused your cheeks to heat as a few other customers turned around to glare. but once, your knee touched his, all anxieties disappeared and his grin turned into a smirk at the new proximity of you.

“i’m so glad, sweet girl.” he practically mewled with how pretty he sang it. “all i want is for my birthday girl to be happy.”

if you weren’t beat red before he spoke in that manner, you are now. you could feel your heart practically about to beat out of your chest with how nervous he gets you, how love struck.

“you’re such a pretty girl, y’know that?”

the smell of him filled the air you breathed, like it had all day. not a moment went by that he didn’t find a way to have you close to him today, and you found it beautiful. such a beautiful way to spend your big day, you thought.

his fingers caressed your soft cheek delicately, as if you were the most wonderful piece of art he ever set his hands on, as he guided your eyes to his.

“my pretty girl.”

the moment they set on his hazel orbs, you knew you were done for.

“everything okay, princess?” he teased.

suna knew exactly how to make you tick and blush so preciously, and he used those tactics so shamelessly— even in a very public restaurant.

you blinked at him a few times, utterly flustered as his cat eyes twinkled.

“c-can we go to the hotel now? i’m full.” you lied.

as much as you loved the food that you hadn’t a chance to eat yet, you were desperate to get your menace of a boyfriend back in private to avoid any farther embarrassment and to be more comfortable. you wanted to bask in his sweet essence before he turned back into the toad he is midnight.

as you suspected, he eyed you suspiciously.

“you haven’t even eat yet.“

you knew he would have noticed: suna notices everything you do. you mentally slapped yourself for even thinking of lying to him when there was no point to. the truth is what would surely get you what you wanted.

“i dont want to.” you beamed at him suddenly, eying him fondly and even placing your hand on his cheek— to which he gladly leaned into. “i just want to spend some time with you… alone.”

mischief gleamed in his eyes at the word ‘alone’ as it fell from your honey-sweet lips, and for a moment be contemplated calling the waiter back over to pay: until he remembered.

he frowned slightly and shook his head against your small hand.

“let’s eat first, then you’ll have me all to yourself, yeah?”

your smile dropped, which he noticed quickly and raced you to the next word.

“because i know you haven’t had anything in that belly today, so let’s eat up.” he sat up straighter in his own chair, taking both hands back and placing them somewhere else: his left over your shoulders and his right for himself. “i’ll be right here in the meantime.”

you grumbled in impatience but eventually gave in when he explained to you that ‘the longer you take complaining, the more time we spend here.’ and it shut you up.

——

“happy, princess?”

no matter how many times he repeated his question, you were still at loss for words. happy couldn’t even begin to describe the irrevocable joy that you felt through your whole being as you gaped at his gift.

your eyed weld with tears, you had no idea what to say.

this.. this was too much. he really outdid himself with your date, but this…

“please say something because it was super hard to find and i have been thinking of this moment for a month.” he sighed as another minute of silence passed.

your eyes slowly ripped away from the gift bag and met his. you both were a little tipsy from all of the wine prior, yet this moment seemed to sober him up with the way he seemed nervous— of your reaction no doubt.

you cleared your throat, trying to form words for him but failed as you glanced back down to the necklace.

it was expensive, very expensive— which is why you postponed buying it for yourself for so long. rent and groceries were always above your own wants. suna knew that, but he also knew how badly you wanted it. so, as impulsive as he is, he finally bought it for you after your many years of yearning.

by first glance, the locket looked like any normal heart-shaped piece of jewelry that any sweet boyfriend would get his girlfriend, but it was so much more than that.

it was real gold, 24 karats of it, with the initials ‘s.r’ engraved in it, and inside bared your favorite photo of you two— the clumsy arcade picture from the day he said ‘i love you’ for the first time.

it meant little to most, but so so much to you and you’d be forever grateful to suna for it.

“i-i-“ you struggled to find words yet again the longer you stared at it, too emotional to form words let alone think them.

suna, knowing you like the back of his hand, could sense this and took it as a sign that you were more than happy.

he embraced you finally, his long arms wrapping around you and pulling you tight to his chest. with the way you resisted him so little told him that he took the right route with physical touch.

“th-thank you.”

he grinned at the sound of your broken voice and placed a kiss to your head.

“it’s no problem, my birthday girl. you deserve it.”

——

“rin, this is ridiculous!” you giggled at your childish boyfriend.

he ignored you and continued tucking you in by stuffing the blanket under your body aggressively.

“hush, i’m almost done. boy, you sure are fussy.”

you scoffed at his comment but stayed silent as he finished up and climbed back into bed, clinging to your side as usual. his arm slid around your shoulders and hugged you to his side before shifting and placing a kiss on your head.

the soft sounds of your sleepy breathing made him chuckle, he knew your sleep habits enough to assume you were dozing off already.

afterall, you were rather sleepy after you shared your cake, so much so that you kept biting his arm sporadically to keep your self awake.

“sleepy, bubba?”

you hummed tiredly, your eyes practically glued shut as exhaustion took it’s toll on you. your head suddenly felt heavy as you rested on his chest and you let out a soft yawn at the realization.

giving you a tight squeeze, rintaro sighed in content at the feel of his girl in his arms. there truly was nothing better than you, he decided.

“you can go to sleep, princess. i’ll be right here in the morning.”

“love you…” you incoherently mumbled before sleep took over and your consciousness was ripped from you as you fell into sweet bliss.

“love you too, baby.”

with one final soft squeeze around your shoulders, he leaned down slightly to the crown of your head and gave you a lingering kiss ‘goodnight’ like he always had.

except tonight he stayed up a little longer to watch you, bask in how beautiful you look as you’re snuggled into him, makeup wiped clean and in his stained pajama shirt.

he imagined making you his wife someday, the thought of ending every night with this sight was such a bonus to that plan. he hoped your children looked as gorgeous as you, if not a spit image.

in that moment, as you began to let out light snores, he promised himself he would never leave this sight or jeopardize it.

“always here.”

#suna 🌷#suna rintaro #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader

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akutasoda · 6 months

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Congrats on reaching 1k, you totally deserve it. Also, i was wondering if you could do a kunikida from bungo stray dogs x female reader fluffy sorta fic?

coffee with sugar

synopsis - maybe kunikida needs a bit more sweetness in his life

includes - kunikida ft the agency

warnings - fem!reader, fluff, absolute cringe towards the end, wc - 2k

a/n: hehe thank you so much!

'thank you again for allowing me a part time here' you gave the man a smile as he welcomed you into the small café uzunaki, he reciprocated before responding 'it's no problem, it may not be the busiest place but help is appreciated'. truth be told, you moved to yokohama a few days ago and you were in the middle of job hunting here, so you decided to earn atleast some income bt working at a local café. it was only meant to be a part time job to tide you over until you could find somewhere else so you assumed that the quaint café would offer a nice way to pay your bills.

the owner gave you a quick tour of the café before showing you the ins and outs of how to make some popular drinks. 'like i said, we don't really have many customers so we only have one other waitress but the customers we do have are regulars' you finished the latte he instructed you to try making and slided it over to him and enquiring 'who are the regulars?', he took a quick sip before nodding in approval and adding 'the local agency, an interesting bunch that come here practically every day' he paused and pointed to a small post it on the counter 'may want to get familiar with those orders'. you nodded before taking a quick look.

you finished your first day by practicing making a variety of the drinks and plating of food while the owner gave you hints and tips. the café didn't actually open that day, so you appreciated having the time to learn in peace - the other waitress visited for a while to meet her new coworker and even helped you learn some trickier drinks to brew. it really seemed like the perfect way to open up your new life in yokohama.

the next day was your first proper shift, it was up until lunch time and then you offered a few hours toward the closing shift. a simple day that made you rather glad you landed this job. the owner was there to open up the shop and soon retreated elsewhere when he made sure you were okay with everything. a couple of early morning workers stopped by and ordered basic coffee's so your real challenge was when an eccentric ravenette burst through the doors followed by a decent sized group. there was the ravenette, a tall brunette, a taller blonde and a ginger haired boy with a black haired girl hanging off his arm - you didn't quite know what to expect with them but you vaguely remember some of them from descriptions about the agency members.

as soon as they sat down in a booth you picked up your small notepad and walked over to the table, almost immediately the brunette spoke up 'i didn't know the old man hired a new waitress?' he stared at you for a second before complaining 'what? don't kick me' he stared down the blonde opposite him and before either of them could speakthe ginger haired boy caught your attention 'you are new aren't you? don't mind them-' he was cut off with the ravenette's declaration for his usual, extra sweet, and the blonde sighed before adding 'we will all have our usual please'. you simply nodded and went to search for the post it on the counter to look for their orders, the only issue was that you didn't know any of their names so you didn't really know what order went with who.

well you could figure out the eccentric raventte easily as he wanted it extra sweet and you could take an effective guess that the blonde man would want the order that simply read 'black coffee' but the other three were a bit difficult. you eventually managed to guess that the two part order belonged to the duo and had managed to overhear the name 'dazai' while making the orders and assumed that would be the brunette. now you just had to finish making the orders.

if kunikida didn't have half the patience he did, he reckoned he would have jumped across the table and beat dazai senseless already. he knew his coworker was a bit of a slacker and easily would be distracted with the idea of asking a woman to perform 'double-suicide' with him but today was just not the day to deal with him. kunikida could take a guess that it didn't help that you were new, he didn't want you to quit your job because dazai was an idiot - the whole reason they were here was to talk about the tiger case but dazai really couldn't keep his focus.

your cheery voice broke him out of his thoughts and he thanked you for dealing with them, you smiled back and went to clear up the empty cups left by the previous patron. eventually they managed to finalise a plan and decided to report back to the office to set out, unfortunately both dazai and ranpo seemed to forgets you were a new waitress and left as usual expecting you to immediately add it to their tab. kunikida sighed and noticed how you looked slightly panicked taht they just left so he let tanizaki and naomi go ahead and he walked over to you behind the counter.

'the agency has a tab set up, please exuse their rude behaviour' he explained and you slowly remembered the owner explaining something about that so you went to check. kunikida glanced over and asked out of pure concern 'do you know how to access it?' you smiled and responded 'i remember being told how, give me a second and i'll remember'. kunikida waited until you managed to add to their tab and informed you that he'd send them back down to apologise and you only stiffled a laugh before adding 'no need, i should've remembered who you guys were'.

you left during lunch and greeted the other waitress when she came in as you left, you greeted her again when you joined her for the closing shift. the last customer was a dark haired woman, she spotted you when you came in and introduced herself as yosano - one of the other agency members. she told you how she heard about the morning mishap and told you that you might have to get used to them behaving like that, then she left and informed you that she'd be the unfortunate recipient of their presnce soon.

your next shift was another early one, this time your first customers where the same brunette you know knew for sure was dazai, the duo which you again now knew as tanizaki and naomi, kunikida and a new white haired boy. you were lucky enough that the other waitress was there with you this time and she offered to take the table - you looked away to clean out a few cups and by the time you looked back kunikida had smacked dazai over the head and the other waitress walked away from dazai. she smiled at you before telling you that you should ignore anything dazai said to you. you stared at her with confusion.

within the first couple of weeks you had grown quite accustomed to working at the café - and unfortunately came to learn what the other waitress warned you about with dazai. the agency members all had their unique quirks and you didn't know if you should be proud that you knew their orders off by heart, over patrons were also equally nice to talk to but the agency were the most common guest. you had almost forgotten completely about your attempts to find another job and most of the messages you got back from places offering interviews were forgotten - the café was a job that you even considered working full time sometimes.

if you had to pick a favourite agency member, you'd probably have to say kunikida. from day one, he had helped you with the slight inconveniences some of the agnecy members gave you when they visited - mainly dazai and ranpo and sometimes kenji but that was when he tried bringing one of his cows into the café. kunikida was also quite the good listener and talker, it felt unprofessional at first when you starrted telling him about how you ended up in yokohama but he did ask you how you landed the job and seemed to show genuine interest. you also enjoyed listening to him talk about some of the agency's stories while you closed up for the night.

kunikida always seemed to visit later at night or early in the morning. if it was early in the morning he would be accompanied by a few agency members and he would order a black coffee, if it was before closing he would sit on the chairs at the counter and have - depending on his day - either another black coffee or simply a glass of water. kunikida didn't really notice how much he visited the café during your shifts until dazai pointed it out to him obnoxiously loud in the café while you were within hearing distance, you either pretended not to hear or were too engrossed in a task to notice.

although after dazai pointed it out, kunikida really couldn't help but read his book of ideals and think about you. sure you didn't cross of all the requirements for his ideal lover but this was the first time he felt like he could make a few exceptions. maybe it was the fact that you were so hardworking that helped attract him to you initially and maybe it was your personality that kept him longing for another interaction. he would always ask you about your plans for the future and whenever you told him you were still looking for a job it pained him for some reason but for the time being you always assured him you had no plans on leaving soon.

it got so painstakingly obvious to over members of the agency that kunikida was in fact pining for you, that yosano told him to pack his ideals to the side and ask you out before it was too late. the only issue was that kunikida wasn't sure on how to go about it and he could only think of one way, one really cringey way that was going to be something yosano and dazai would forever tease him with.

you watched kunikida enter through the café's door and you smiled at him before taking a drink to another customer, you swiftly returned to behind the counter and said 'what will it be today hm? let me guess a coffee?' he let a small smile crack his face before he nodded and hesitantly added 'yeah, but it'd like it with a few sugars today'

'what gives huh?' you questioned and almost liked he'd rehearsed this exact scenario he answered immediately 'i just reckon it's time to add something sweeter to my life'. you would normally brush this off but he was sttaring at you so intently that you, felt a bit confused, you also swore you saw a faint blush on his face. 'what do you mean kunikida?' he let out a long sigh before looking back at you directly 'you don't mean..' you trailed off slightly before taking a full understanding of the situation. you smiled and responded confidently 'well maybe i should try adding a handsome blonde man into my life' you laughed as he deadpanned at you. eventually he started looking a bit more hopeful

'does this mean-'

'if you want it be kuni, because i know i want us to be'

akutasoda's 1k event

#⇢＊akutasoda's events ＊#x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x female reader #bsd kunikida #kunikida x you #kunikida x reader #↪♡akutasoda's 1k event ♡

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deathbystero · 9 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨

𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐠𝐞 (𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟑𝟔) - 𝟏𝟖 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 - 𝟏𝟗𝟏𝟖

Marko grew up in the early 1900s with his mother and siblings in a little house in Italy. He knew very little about his father for the man had died in a work related incident a little after he was born and his mother never seemed very open to discuss the topic further.

The family lived in poverty, rarely able to scrape together enough money from their meagre wages to feed everyone, and more often than not, there was no food at all. Marko did what he could to help out, but it was always down to his older siblings to bring in the money. At times, he was left feeling rather helpless, as if he was just an afterthought, an unwanted burden on his mother's shoulders. He was another mouth to feed, another being to clothe and shelter.

When there was nobody home, his siblings were usually forced to take him along when they went into town to sell their wares. As far as Marko knew, none of them ever made much money. His mother would make her own way in the world by sewing dresses and selling whatever she could find but it wasn’t enough.

Eventually, when Marko had just turned thirteen, the dreaded letter came through the post, giving the family a month’s notice to pack up everything they owned before they were evicted and forced out onto the streets. It was a cold hard truth that had been long awaited, one that everyone in the family had known was coming but which none of them had truly believed.

His siblings hadn’t stuck around, running off to start new lives just days before the eviction, while Marko was forced to stay behind, clinging to his mother like a scared child. She couldn’t afford to pay rent on even the cheapest of places and they didn’t have any relatives willing to let them stay over until they could get back onto their own feet again. So, with little left to offer, they packed whatever items they had left and ended up on the streets, surviving on the bare minimum.

Marko's mother found a job washing dishes at a small inn, spending the money she made on alcohol and drinking herself into oblivion every night. He was forced to watch helplessly as she fell apart, unable to do anything other than be there for her as best he could, cleaning up after her and keeping her safe at night.

While she was at work, Marko roamed the streets, stealing whatever he could get his hands on and eating what scraps he could find. He found himself hating his siblings, hating the idea that they'd gotten away so easily while he was stuck here with no money and an alcoholic mother to take care of. They were lucky. He wasn’t.

One evening in August,when Marko was sixteen, his mother disappeared, never returning from work. He had tried searching for her, running up and down the streets like a lost puppy, wailing and calling out for her, but it was futile. The woman was gone and he was alone.

He returned back to their pitiful shelter and wept into the night, praying desperately that someone would come for him, would care for him. That night, he cried himself to sleep, exhausted and starving, whilst he dreamt up a carefully formulated plan; a plan to flee the country and start anew.

There was a boat, Marko discovered, set to leave early the next morning, taking both cargo and passengers to America. It was his only chance and so he grasped it eagerly, leaving their sorry shelter behind in search of freedom and adventure.

He snuck his way into the storage hold where the ship was docked and hid under a blanket until dawn broke, the ship pulling away from land and taking him away from the only place he’d ever known and to somewhere entirely foreign. He held onto the hope that maybe things would improve once he found his way there, but deep down he knew he was being foolish. He was a sixteen year old boy, underfed and poor, who hardly spoke a word of English and had no family to fall back onto if all things went downhill. What could he possibly expect to find? A life amongst strangers would not give him a better chance than he already had, who wouldn't spare him an ounce of pity even if he begged on his hands and knees? What was he thinking? He had to have been totally crazy. No sane person in his right mind would risk their life like this. And yet, here he was still trying. Still trying his hardest to make something of himself.

The ship docked in America about a week after it’s departure, and Marko was greeted with a strange mix of excitement and dread. He'd been expecting something akin to Europe, but what lay before him was anything but glamorous or fantastical. He felt completely at odds with the people that walked past him, some laughing and chattering loudly, others barely sparing him a passing glance. He was surrounded by strangers and so incredibly out of place. If anyone should've noticed him in the crowd, they gave no indication of it as they continued talking and laughing and chatting around him with equal gusto, unaware of his plight.

He wandered about the bustling streets for hours, eventually finding an alleyway to curl up in and wait out his hunger pangs. He’d found very little food on the boat, taking what he could from crates and boxes without much thought, not caring if he was eventually caught. His clothes were dirty and tattered, worn thin and threadbare, his shoes covered in dirt and grime, and he was positively sure he looked absolutely deplorable. Biting his lip against his inevitable tears, he buried his face into his knees, hugging himself tightly, shivering violently. Sleep seemed like a far off thing, impossible to come by as his thoughts kept circling around how utterly hopeless he felt, how utterly alone he was.

It wasn’t until several days later that his luck seemed to change, a not so dim light appearing at the end of the tunnel. He'd found a little abandoned warehouse full of art supplies; crates of leftover paint, paint brushes which had certainly seen better days, and canvases, most of which were torn and tattered, but usable nonetheless.

Marko has gathered up everything he could get his hands on, seeing an opportunity to make some cash, and spent almost the entire day painting whatever came to mind. He was surprised at himself - he didn't remember the last time he painted, but somehow this was different. Like he was drawing for the first time, like he was creating something entirely new. There was a sense of wonder that he couldn't explain, an awe he hadn't known since childhood. This wasn't about making money. This was about finding himself.

When he finally emerged from the building, covered head to toe in brightly coloured paint stains and tired from lack of sleep, he decided he might as well try his best at selling what he had created, knowing that nothing else would provide him with any kind of income. It didn't matter that he lacked experience with art, that he was untrained. The paintings were his ticket. The only way out of this misery he lived in.

And so he set about selling everything he had, working his hardest, desperate to make every penny count. And, boy, did people pay. It was almost comical at how careless the rich were with their money, throwing it at him with no regard as to what it might go towards, as long as they got whatever it was they wanted in return.

Marko was soon able to afford enough money for food and clothes, settling into the little warehouse and sleeping on an old uncomfortable mattress stuffed into one corner, surrounded by crates of paint and brushes.

He took pride in the fact that he had made something of himself, having managed to carve out his own niche with a little bit of paint and a couple of worn out brushes. He felt good about the fact that he had managed to become somebody, somebody who had a purpose, somebody that mattered in the world.

When he turned 18, Marko took to wandering a little further into the city, searching for inspiration and finding plenty. It became routine for him; he worked late nights painting whenever he was able, waking up with the sun so that he could spend the morning wandering before returning to paint once more. He sold his creations out on the streets, bought meals and slept rough. He was happy. He felt complete. He should've been happy, content with his living situations, besides it was more than he'd ever thought he'd have, and yet he still felt as if something was missing. That loneliness still lingered, that hollow feeling that wouldn't go away.

In November of his third year on the streets, Marko met two men whilst out wandering at night, shaking off the disturbance of a rather unpleasant nightmare.

The first of the two was blonde, his hair messy in a styled kind of way, with piercing blue eyes and sharp, handsome features. The second was tall with dark hair and a strong jawline, seemingly just as striking as his friend. Both were dressed entirely in black and approached Marko much in the same way a predator would its prey, a smile adorning each of their faces.

“Can I help you?” Marko asked quietly, his accent thick and heavy, despite his best efforts to hide it.

The blonde one grinned, “You’re a runaway, aren’t you, kid?”

Marko hesitated for a brief moment, weighing up his options before nodding slowly.

The man reached out a gloved hand, offering to shake, “I’m David.”

“Marko,” Marko replied quietly, shaking his hand.

David nodded, seemingly satisfied. His friend said nothing. “Where are your parents?”

“My mother's dead…” At least that’s what he thought.

“Your father?” David pressed.

“Dead too…”

“So… it’s just you then?” David questioned, tilting his head slightly. Marko nodded, looking down at the pavement. What did these guys want? Money, drugs, sex? Who knows, but Marko certainly wasn’t too keen on finding out.

“Hey,” This time, it was the other man, the brunette one, who reached forward, his hand landing upon Marko's shoulder. “We ain't here to hurt you, kid. We're here to help.”

Help? Marko furrowed his brow. “I don't need no help.” “Of course not,” David interjected before the boy could say any more, “But that doesn't mean we can’t offer it. You're young, lost and all alone in this world. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a friend or two?”

A friend... That’s what he’d been seeking, someone to rely on. Someone to show him that he wasn't completely alone in this. But was it really possible for him to turn to these strangers, especially after everything he'd been through so far? Could he trust them? They were probably just playing a trick on him. They'd probably planned to kill him and leave his body somewhere and never bother him again. So why should he believe them?

“Look,” David began, “I know we seem shady, but I promise we'll do nothing to harm you. Right, Dwayne?”

The brunette nodded. “We just want to help.”

This was a mistake. These two men could easily kill him, leaving him to die on his own somewhere. Or they could rob him. Or beat him senseless. Either option would be equally horrible.... but something about them told Marko that maybe they were being truthful. Maybe they did actually want to help him. Maybe they meant what they said, because they weren't bad people.

“... okay…” Marko muttered softly, raising his eyes to meet theirs.

The two men smiled, sharing glances between each other before turning back to Marko. “Great! Let's get going now shall we?”

Marko stared at them for a while longer, trying to gauge if they were telling the truth or lying, before nodding slowly and following after them.

Marko became the third member of Max's family that night, and for the first time in his life, he felt complete.

A/N: This is way longer than I'd expected it to be, and, although it started of a little bit shitty, I think it got better towards the end. As I've said before, this is my own take on things; none of what I have written is canon in any way, shape, or form and is simply a silly little thing I came up with over the x-mas break!

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys imagine #marko the lost boys #the lost boys headcanon #this is my own take so please don't come for me

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strawurberries · 1 year

Note

i loved your post about vash and reader’s stretch marks. i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is afraid of getting fat, so she skips meals or replaces them with water?

Missed Meals

Summary: Vash notices a change in his companion's behavior. Worried, he decides to confront her.

Authors Note: I'm glad you liked my other post! I hope you like this one as well (though I'm a little nervous because I got stuck writing this and I'm afraid it came out bad). Also, just want to add, I've struggled with eating disorders before (not from self-image but more like Vash's "I don't deserve to eat") so I understand. Everyone is beautiful in their own right and deserves to eat!!! Love all of you guys!!

Warnings: Self-hate, eating disorder.

It started off small; giving her bread to Milly instead of finishing it off, ordering a lighter meal instead of the usual hardy one she adored, and sometimes she simply said, “I’m not that hungry”. But actions like hers always lead to a slippery slope, one that tends to wrap its dirt-crusted nails around its victim and drag them into an early grave. She had never been someone who ate enough to feed an entire village, but not even she could survive on sips of water and the guilty crumbs she rarely allowed herself to consume. After a while though, it became natural, second nature to head off to bed while the sun still hung in the sky, claiming that exhaustion outweighed her hunger—which, she supposed, wasn’t all a lie.

The best lie, she had been told once, is the one that includes the truth.

Now, she recalled that advice as she sat at a table in the back of this dingy town bar. What should she say? What could she say? Recently she had been using up all her excuses left and right, the hunger in her belly growing and the pain in her heart becoming ever more sharp. The group had decided to stop by a local bar before heading to the hotel for the night, nearly everyone complaining about the rough day that had been forced to suffer through. And, to them, a drink was something they were eager to welcome. She, if she hadn’t been too preoccupied with her stomach pains, probably would’ve ordered a whiskey to clear her head of every annoying little thought.

She opted for water though. The least she could do was drink water; she owed it to herself, and so she honored that obligation. Throat parched, mouth achy; the water tasted amazing.

The bar erupted in a shout as someone tripped, roaring laughter drowning out the domestic conversation of her table. Too loud. Vaguely she heard someone mention dinner—she cringed. She did promise herself that she’d finally eat a crumb or a bite tonight (after nearly passing out yesterday she became all too aware of her weakness). She wasn’t dumb, she knew she’d have to eat eventually, that she’d wither away—but one more night, one more meal skipped, it couldn’t do any more harm, right? Besides, from what she had seen on the menu, the foods were all greasy, full of fat and carbs, and wouldn’t help her figure at all.

I just want to look pretty, she reasoned, skipping a meal tonight will help that. God forbid she ate too much and all her progress disappeared: letting that baby fat back under her chin, the muffin-top around her waist, or even the extra flesh on her belly? She’d rather die than let her body look like that again, much less look worse. It terrified her to her core. She needed to look good, and that meant, to her at least, that she must be skinny, thin, and agreeable. Starvation is a small price to pay for beauty.

A waiter slowly started to make their way across the room, eyes set on her table.

I need to go.

She stood up, giving a small smile, “I’m gonna head back to the hotel.”

“You’re leaving already Miss?” Milly asked, “it’s still early enough for one drink! C’mon!” She raised her glass and grinned, “look! Mr. Wolfwood and Mr. Vash are already enjoying themselves!”

Drunken giggles erupted across the table.

“Oh Milly,” Meryl sighed, “let the girl get her rest. God knows we all need it.” She waved her hand with the flick of her wrist, “if it wasn’t for the trouble you’re all bound to cause, I would’ve already left myself.”

“Hey!” Wolfwood barked out, “we’ve never caused trouble a day in our lives. . . well, can’t say much for Needle-noggin’ here.”

“It’s not my fault!” Vash cried, “trouble finds me! I always run away from it!” He sobbed into the table, “can’t a man catch a break?!”

Wolfwood laughed and patted him on the back, “it’s all God’s plan, my friend.”

“Well he sure does have a stupid plan!”

With a smile and silent wave, she slipped out from the table and weaved through the bar, the happy expression quickly falling off her face. I’m tired, she thought to herself, ignoring the biting air of the night. A dull ache in the pit of her belly made her stop for a moment, really tired. . .

She barely remembers getting back to the hotel, much less how she managed to get dressed and settled in bed before that wretched knocking woke her up. With a skip of her heart and a rapid smack of her arms to get the blankets off her cold body, she jumped out of bed and reached for the gun she had tossed on the floor. One smooth movement and she delicately wrapped her fingers around the metal. She didn’t even think about the possibility of her friends needing help, or perhaps just room service making their rounds; the only thing on her mind was the fact that she wasn’t prepared to die that night.

“Who’s there?” she grumbled out, ducking to hide beside the door, back to the wall. She rubbed lazy circles into the metal, finger twitching every so slightly over the trigger. She had never been the greatest shot, nor the most eager to kill, but she would do what had to be done if it came down to it.

“Vash.”

She blinked, sleep-clogged mind getting dunked into a vat of mean, old reality. Her situation hit her upside the head and she resisted the urge to put her face between her knees and groan about how dumb she is. Instead of wallowing in her stupidity (which, if you really think about it, wasn’t the worst reaction she could’ve had), she sighed, “oh.” A spike of relief shot through her like a summer’s breeze on a warm day. Shoulders relaxing and muscles begging to be sent back to bed. . . only, she wasn’t tired anymore. I’m not sleeping tonight, am I? Her heart still beat like a drum, thumping in her chest like no tomorrow, and her body—taunt and tense, ready for a moment's attack; that’s how she’s survived this long, by being prepared for every situation no matter the outcome.

“Can uh. . . can I come in?” Squeaked out Vash.

She cursed and opened the door, wooden creaking echoing throughout the hotel hallway, letting her occupied hand hang by her side, “yeah, sorry. What’s the matter?”

Vash stood in his usual clothes—red coat, ridiculous pants, and bulky boots; his gloves though, she noticed, he wasn’t wearing gloves. He gave her a small smile, “sorry did I scare ya?”

The smile made her less mad about the ordeal, kind and small. He never smiled too widely or genuinely, just enough to show that he cared, that he knew what happiness looked like—though she knew that he thought he’d never be able to obtain happiness, a faraway dream is how he described it to be. Oh, how if given the chance, she would give him all the joy he would ever want.

She shoved that thought aside.

“A little,” she raised the gun and gestured with it for Vash to come inside. “Why are you up so late?”

He slid into the room silently, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed, “couldn’t sleep.” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

That was a lie. She could tell. “Want to talk?” She locked the door and once again tossed her gun next to her bed, hoping it wouldn’t go off from the rough handling. “Or jus’ need someone here?”

“Just talking, if you don’t mind.”

She nodded, “a’right. How was your day?”

He smiled, “good. You?”

“Peachy.”

The conversation died off.

Neither of them really knew what to say—unspoken words disease the heart and kill the soul, making the tongue bloated and thick. She, not knowing how to comfort her friend as her mind wandered from her own problems to the world’s in general, and he wasn’t sure how to get his point across.

Silence.

Vash cleared his throat, finally collecting his words, “are you. . . okay?” The question hung in the air sourly, sucking any sense of comfort out and churning it into an uninhabitable room of misery. He flinched, as if the mood of the room was hurting him physically. “You’ve been acting a little different lately.”

She leaned against the door, hoping the action would give her the confidence to either run away or admit her inner-thoughts.“Hmm? Fine, you?” She turned her gaze away. Could she run? No, he’d catch her in less than three seconds and her trying to slip out of the room would be an admission of her guilt. But she really didn’t want to talk about herself. She’s doing okay, isn’t she? Just a little tired, anxious, and sad. . . but she’ll get over it. Besides, it’s not like she’s dead yet.

“I’m good.”

“Good.”

Oh how painfully awkward this all was.

The bed squeaked as he moved to get into a more comfortable position, “I have some leftovers in my room, from dinner, if you want any.” He tapped his leg with his fingers, head angled slightly to watch her expression.

He knows.

Those eyes, no matter how much of a kind smile or goofy aura he carefully crafted to show everyone, his eyes gave away every part of his secret-self. The part of him that was scarily intelligent, observant, and abnormally calculating—a man smart enough to play dumb and a man strong enough to be kind. That part of him is what interested her so, the gravity that pulled her attention to him everytime he entered a room.

He knows.

With a defeated sigh she rubbed her shoulder and walked over to the bed, shoving herself behind him to lay back down. If she had to bare her soul to him, the least he could allow her to do was to be vulnerable while being comfortable. He moved slightly to allow her more room, facing away from her as if her very gaze would burn him. “I’m not hungry,” she gave one last effort to cover her lie, to toss her truth out the window in the hopes that it would be buried in the sand.

“You said that yesterday too.” He stared across the room, back rigid.

The sands never work in your favor.

“Huh,” she faced the wall, “guess I did.” The blankets were scratchy, old, and ratty, but she pulled them up to her chin nonetheless. She was tired now. All her adrenaline had poured out of her mouth, dripping onto the creaky wooden floor, seeping into the ground beneath.

“And the day before.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

She closed her eyes, knowing she had finally been caught in her web of little half-truths. “Haven’t had the stomach to eat anything lately.” Perhaps she could escape this somehow—even though she knew it was futile, part of her accepting the fact that he wouldn’t let this go—, make him run away and stop caring, God that caring! It annoyed her to ends she had never seen before, yet she loved it so. If only he didn’t care, she clenched her fist into the blanket, then this wouldn’t have happened. And it’s not like she’s dying! Nor is she killing herself or drawing blood, she’s only skipping a meal every once in a while.

“I don’t. . .,” Vash trailed off locking his fingers together, “I don’t mean to pry, but you’re starving yourself.” He sat the words quickly, sharply, and promptly, as if he was afraid of them and needed to throw them out of his mouth as soon as possible.

All lies come to an end.

“I know.”

But wouldn’t it be nice if they could live forever?

He bit his lip. “Why?”

“You’re prying,” she snapped.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

The conversation died off.

She didn’t mean to sound so rough and uncaring—the opposite of that gentleman—but a fear had struck her heart and she couldn’t stop it. The only way to feel okay, to be okay, was if Vash stopped caring, stopped worrying, and walked out of the room without a second glance (no matter how much that would hurt). Only he had the power to alleviate this anxious pain but she knew she would never allow her to wallow in misery alone.

What did Wolfwood say? She thought to herself, misery enjoys company?

The air turned from sour to stiff, oppressing; like a hand had come to clasp her throat, fingers digging into flesh and muscles spasming as they tried to escape the hold, only it was fruitless.

“Sometimes,” Vash’s voice cut through the air, peeling the layers of devilish emotions back. Slowly he shuffled down to lay next to her, on his back, hands laced over his chest. “I feel like I don’t deserve to eat. . . how can I allow myself to eat when I know how the people I failed, the people I let die, will never be able to enjoy things like that again? And, really, I think part of me hopes I’ll die from starvation, so I can take an easy way out.” He paused and let out a shuddering sigh.

She didn’t move.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, and you don’t have to tell me, but I understand in part. And if you ever need anything, I’m here. Okay?”

Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to care? And why did she want to accept it so damn bad? If he had never noticed, if he had never looked at her with those eyes, if he had never met her—then she’d be living in her little palace of warped perception like a Queen of nothing but barren hearts. A ruler of her own land, a lawmaker who bows to no one; only this man had come into her secluded little kingdom, raided the halls of the castle, and whisked her away to feel the sun. It hurt her. To know how delicious the outside tasted, yet know how her soul felt safer within her prison.

“Do you think,” the words died in her tongue, nervousness making her numb. To hell with it, he already figured it out. Might as well bite the bullet.“ That I look pretty?” she whispered.

Silence.

Oh, that was a mistake, wasn’t it? The silence hurt in her ways that she didn’t even know could hurt.

Vash choked on his own spit and coughed, “w-what?”

Suddenly she wished the silence was still there.

Of course he’d have a reaction like that! She’s ugly, big, and broken. Why did she think it’s run out any different? “Nevermind.” She buried her face into the blanket, biting back a rumble of sobs in her throat; eyes stinging gently.

“No! No! You—you just caught me off guard! I think you’re beautiful, really.” He turned over frantically, hand awkwardly hovering over her shoulder as he talked into her neck.

“You wouldn’t think the same way if I was bigger,” she curled into herself, “if I was fatter.” She aggressively wiped her tears away, “and skipping a couple meals isn’t too bad if it’s for a good reason, you know?” She wasn’t sure if she was believing herself at this point.

He was silent.

“No matter what,” he twiddled his thumbs, ears turning red, “I think you’d still be beautiful. If you were taller, shorter, thinner, bigger, only had one leg or, um, like lost both eyes or something—” he heard her lowly whisper an audible “what?”, “I’d still think you’d look amazing. And, if anyone says otherwise, they don’t deserve you.” He hesitantly set a hand on her shoulder, rubbing comforting circles, “no matter what, I still cherish you.”

Her voice cracked, “thank you Vash.” His words didn’t convince her entirely, but still, they were nice to hear.

He hummed. “I know my words aren’t going to fix everything, but we can start here, if you want?”

She let out a bubbling sigh, trying desperately to keep her tears away in order not to embarrass herself further. “I'm scared.”

“That’s okay, I get scared all the time. I’ll be right here for you, the whole way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

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divinityandfanfics · 2 months

Text

“ One in Millions ”

NEBULA

part 1 here

blurb: “streamer gojo has millions of fans, and fangirls. when he announced a meet-and-greet, he spotted you in the crowd. eventually, falling in love and approaching you after the event is over.”

a/n: this shi needed to be restarted bro my bad if it was slow

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ STARRING: GOJO SATORU

WARNINGS: mentions of freaky fangirls

REMINDERS;

☆ super famous streamer gojo

☆ female pronouns used for reader

☆ reader is just an ordinary fan of gojo

☆ like the DSMP, gojo is part of a gamer team named Jujutsu Kaisen

☆ non-curse au

»»————-　♡　————-««

RECAP

“so, how did it go?” suguru asks.

“good, i got her number.”

“congratulations! you won’t die alone now.”

“suguru! we’re not even together yet!”

“yet.”

“i hate that you’re right..” satoru’s head drops.

“i do want to make her mine. it would’ve been easier if she was one of those fangirls, but i don’t want them, they’re weird and freaky.”

“just shoot your shot, you’ll get there eventually.”

“sigh, you’re right.”

END OF RECAP

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you and your friend got home, and you were just getting ready for bed.

until, a familiar sound of the notification rings in your ears.

you walked over to your phone, seeing a text.

clicking on it,

- ‘hii’

- ‘if ur wondering why i asked for ur number’

- ‘its because u look very pretry :33’

- ‘pretty**’

‘oh? you think so?’ -

- ‘yes’

- ‘you look angelic’

- ‘icl’

- ‘tbh’

- ‘ngl’

‘well if you wanna court me,’ -

‘i don’t usually give in on the first day’ -

- ‘well damn ??’

- ‘aight miss’

- ‘i’ll try my hardest then’

- ‘before that’

- ‘whats ur name’

‘(y/n)’ -

- ‘pretty’

- ‘how old ??’

- ‘just wanna make sure yk’

‘i’m 21’ -

- ‘nicee’

- ‘23 here’

‘i already know.’ -

satoru smiled while looking at his phone’s screen.

he’ll try everything,

for you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

truth is,

you weren’t going to say yes to him.

but, you decided to wait.

because you felt bad.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

after a few months,

satoru has been sending stuff to your house.

flowers, chocolates, and love letters.

you both have also been hanging out,

whether it’s just to the park or at a restaurant.

he pays for the food.

he wasn’t lying when he said he will try his hardest.

you smiled, reading the letter he sent today.

“hi!

hope you know that even if you take a long time to love me back, i’ll wait ♡

just don’t try to love anyone else other than me while i’m courting you, okay?

love you!

streamer admirer; gojo”

you felt your heart flutter,

folding the piece of paper and putting it on the kitchen counter.

“that counts 37.”

37.

37 letters were sent to your house.

maybe his feelings were genuine.

you thought about it,

yes, you felt butterflies flying around your stomach everytime you read a letter.

yes, you loved him.

wait what?

did you?

yes.

it’s time.

it’s time to tell him.

you loved him.

you reached for your phone,

heart feeling like it’s going to jump out of your chest.

‘satoru’ -

- ‘why the first name :((’

- ‘am i in trouble’

‘no’ -

- ‘then what’

‘meet me at corazón del café.’ -

- ‘OH MY ??’

- ‘are my prayers about to be answered’

‘8 pm’ -

- ‘one more hour ;)’

- ‘hoping i dont get rejected’

8:00 PM, JULY 12, 2024

you sat on your chair, waiting for a certain albino fella.

the door of the café opened,

and your gaze traveled to said door.

you saw satoru, in a cozy hoodie with some jeans.

he walked towards your chair, waving at you.

“hiya!” he smiled.

“so, why did you wanna meet me?” he said, sitting on the chair infront of you, the table sitting comfortably between the both of you.

you both order a coffee, and you catch satoru looking at you while you stir your drink.

“well, i want to answer your question now.”

“oh.” he said, smiling so hard it must’ve hurt.

“i’m excited to know your answer!”

“...”

“yes.” you muttered, watching satoru’s eyes widen.

“a-are you serious?” he stuttered.

“well, yeah..” you answered.

“so, does that mean that.. we’re together now?” he asked with hope in his eyes.

you nodded, smiling so sweetly at him.

“YES!” he chided, the other people in the restaurant taking glances at him.

“alright─ alright, don’t get too loud now.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the next day, you woke up feeling relieved.

like you just felt all your problems washed away.

you did your morning routine as usual,

the familiar “ding!” of your phone alerting you.

satoru’s starting a stream.

you reached for your phone, clicking the notification which lead you to satoru’s stream.

“hi chaat~” he giggled at the camera.

“i’m very happy today!” he said, spinning his chair around.

suguru_geto143: “i wonder why”

togeee_salmon: “@suguru_geto143 you already know don’t you”

fush1gur0_m3gum1: “why r u so happy”

kirbyuji_itador11: “yeah tell us why”

suguru_geto143: “@togeee_salmon obviously”

gojoscoloredeyes: “did you get the skin you wanted so hard??”

sunshinedawnsonme: “why tf is bro so happy”

gojosleftkidney: “are u high gang”

tyrannosaurusrex: “bro is actually tweaking”

you-are-all-gaymers_2: “stop giggling like a madman”

heartsfor_olderwomen: “he possessed”

“the woman i’m courting said yes!”

he said, smiling so hard it has the potential to reach heaven.

“we’re now together! my beloved..”

fush1gur0_m3gum1: “what.”

gojoscoloredeyes: “are my ears deceiving me”

suguru_geto143: “gojo i told you youll get there eventually”

[🎥] satoruu_99: “@suguru_geto143 i love you no homo”

at first, you just waited because you felt bad.

but you didn’t realize that you were also slowly falling for him.

you chuckled,

your relationship has a long way to go.

until

you heard another notification.

- ‘i wanna go on a date with u tomorrow’

- ‘also u can come over to my house :)’

‘no thanks’ -

‘i kinda don’t wanna’ -

- ‘NO I PROMISEE’

- ‘I LOVE YOU I WOULD NEVER’

- ‘TRY TO DO ANYTHING TO U’

‘maybe when i know you more’ -

- ‘we have literally been texting for months about each other’

- ‘and hung out’

- ‘remember that time we like’

‘alright i get it i will come over tomorrow’ -

‘geez’ -

- ‘YAY’

satoru smiles, the camera catching it.

knowing that, if he didn’t see you in that event,

none of this would’ve happened.

happy with his decisions.

he turns off his phone, turning to the camera.

“i love her chat!” he said, smiling like crazy.

suguru_geto143: “thats sweet”

togeee_salmon: “stop ur kinda making me jealous”

fush1gur0_m3gum1: “ngl thats actually sweet”

gojoscoloredeyes: “damnn”

sunshinedawnsonme: “DO YOU HEAR THAT YOU FANGIRLS”

cupcakelover: “hes actually inlove oml”

mosquito_lovesblood: “and i thought ww3 would happen first”

kirbyuji_itador11: “AWW GOJO CONGRATSS”

the end. ♡

#jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #fan x streamer #needy streamer overload #twitch streamer #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr

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linnoya-writes · 1 year

Text

Zutara “unexpected father-in-law” canon-compliant AU

It’s interesting how, in the ATLA finale, there’s no real indication that Katara actually got to see Ozai before he gets imprisoned for war crimes.

In the finale, everyone, including Toph, gets to throw their own personal jab at Ozai. Not Katara. And part of me likes to believe that she chooses not to see him intentionally. Because it’s her rough spot. Not just because this was a man who waged war and destruction for years... but also because she has a hard time processing that the young Fire Lord she finds herself falling in love with is the son of this horrible, cruel man.

She doesn’t want that to be true.

She doesn’t want to accept that Ozai and Zuko are the same blood. And it takes years…. decades… for Katara to finally come to terms with that hard truth, and she pays a visit to her now elderly father-in-law in his prison cell.

His face is gaunt and hollow at first sight, but when he looks up to her, the flaming, brilliant golden eyes are very much Zuko... and she holds her breath.

Ozai is also speechless, and only manages a grin to mask that curiosity.

Over the years, he’d only been lucky to catch glimpses of his aging brother before his passing and been visited occasionally by Azula. Zuko, however ironically, had been the one to visit the former FireLord the most frequently… promptly at the first of every month. It became Ozai’s personal passage of time. At first his son had come with tea, and as the months went by… he came with news: about reconstruction of their FireNation governments, the peaceful republic of Earth Kingdom colonies encouraged by Avatar Aang, the new alliances and trade agreements made with the Southern WaterTribe. Zuko mentioned all of this to him not as an insecure boy seeking advice, but as a learned man -- one who’d risen from countless mistakes and had eventually found his own diplomatic resolve.

It was a kind of confidence Ozai had no idea existed within his son, and it was in this way that Zuko announced in that cell that this young Fire Lord would finally be married.

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Katara, of the Southern Water Tribe.”

“A Water Tribe peasant,” Ozai muttered, amused. Appalled.

“Oh, if you knew even half the things that woman has done for this world, you wouldn’t think the FireNation even deserved her.” Zuko glances down, a shy smile forming. “She is unbelievable. You’d be lucky enough to meet her. I hope she’ll come around.”

And Zuko leaves before Ozai can say anything regarding a tainted mark or brittle branch that will result of this marriage within Fire Nation royal history.

Over the years, Ozai hears about this marriage, the political alliance that formed from it, the mixed daughters birthed between a peasant and a prince. When Ozai asks the guards if his granddaughters were borne firebenders, the prisoner doesn’t receive an answer. Instead, he receives a visit from the children themselves in their royal garb, along with their father. Ozai sees the familiar golden flame in the girls’ eyes, despite the tanned complexion of their WaterTribe mother.

The girls take a fire-bending stance, and the old man gets hopeful.

But it’s when ribbons of blue begin to dance around the girls alongside the fire-bending movements that Ozai’s smile disappears.

The blue he sees is not Azula’s Fire. It’s actually not fire at all.

And when the girls end their routine and smile at their grandfather, Ozai turns his back away from them. Confused and sad, the girls turn to Zuko and ask if they did anything wrong, and their father kneels down to their level, hugging them tightly… and assures them they did not.

Zuko’s visits become less frequent after that, only coming in to disclose important decrees and updated policies to the former sovereign. Ozai hears about his granddaughters through Zuko, year after year, learning about their favorite foods and colors… their interests beyond bending, their worldly education fueled by their parents’ influence as well as the youthful, progressive Avatar.

When the girls become teenagers, they finally visit their grandfather again-- this time, on their own… and ask Ozai about the war… if their family was indeed responsible for it.

They ask about it not in an accusatory way, but more an assertive way… wanting to understand for their own sake, their future, and how the world might see them as either a blessing or a threat. How delicate their position truly is.

Over time, Ozai grows accustomed to the water he sees and the stories about the WaterTribe he hears with each of his granddaughters’ later visits. They become women before his eyes, esteemed princesses of two cultures… and when they leave the palace independently, Ozai hears through news of the guards how these girls- much like their parents before them- are making a difference, changing the world, falling in love outside of their borders.

It brings the old man to tears.

The days become quieter, shorter over time. Nobody visits him anymore, and even Fire Lord Zuko has dedicated his time more to other important matters. Time runs glacially, erratically. Ozai combs his now silvery mane of hair with lanky fingers to pass the days, and the last thing he expects is a new visitor approaching his cell.

Sandwiched between two palace guards is this petite, middle-aged woman he’d never seen before, wearing royal red and blue garb. He recognizes her face instantly, from the ones of his granddaughters.

An old grin passes his face. “I’m impressed the heat of our country never compelled you to flee, highness.”

Katara grins firmly, finding her breath. Her eyes are glistening.

“I can handle the sun, thank you.”

Despite having spent most of her life adapting to royal Fire Nation courts, Ozai can still hear this woman’s humble origins.

He looks away in his cell, straightening up in only the way a former Royal can.

Katara nods to the guards, reassuring that she’s okay and they turn on their heels to give her some time alone with the prisoner.

Slowly, she pours the old man some Ginger tea in the same delicate way Uncle Iroh had taught her. She doesn’t hand him the cup, but rather places it down past the rails, which he takes, and watching her then pour a cup for herself. She’s just beginning to graze her fifties, he thinks, noticing the sternness to her brow, the overworked draping to her lids… and yet, it’s the blue of her eyes that makes this woman seem timeless.

It’s a patient, firm, kind and tranquil blue that Ozai doesn’t understand, but the old man can already sense he will spend his last decade feeling both eased and haunted by it.

It’s quiet for a long time, sipping their tea.

Ozai shifts uncomfortably in his sitting. “To what do I owe this honor? Are you here for some kind of absolution?”

“No. It’s pointless to do that now.”

Ozai stares at her. “Hmm. Then I suppose you found the urge to gloat over the irony of all this, how the tables turned so beautifully for your people. I can imagine the spirits of your ancestors are celebrating some kind of victory, is that right?”

Katara looks at him. “I can see how you’d think that, but no.”

Ozai stares again. “Are you waiting for me to beg for forgiveness?”

Katara shakes her head even before he finishes asking.

Ozai can only look at her, then. Katara waits a long moment and gives him a look that could’ve made any instinct of his prepare for battle forty years earlier.

It’s in that moment where Ozai remembers the advanced, lethal Waterbending technique he’d heard talked about in the palace halls— how it had returned after so many years of outlaw and imprisonment of waterbenders, thanks to women like her sitting in front of him. Ozai heard that this same woman had managed to master the technique for healing purposes… but looking at her face now, Ozai wondered if she wasn’t against making an exception.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He asks this not afraid, exactly, but rather…. tired, alone.

Defeated.

Her look only lasts a moment, and he sees the woman take a long, deep breath from her center. She sets down her tea and says “no” looking at him square in the eye, and in her softest voice.

It leaves Ozai uncomfortably impatient. “Then, why are you here?”

Katara looks away, then shrugs, feeling the old skin of a naive, stubborn teenager stir beneath her as she looks back to him.

“Because I love your son. And… that makes you my family.”

Ozai hums incredulously, looking out past Katara’s presence for a long quiet moment, and laughs on the way an old man only can.

She chuckles as well, because it’s funny. It’s messed up. But it’s funny.

The room becomes quiet again as they sip their tea. Katara pours her father-in-law another cup, gently handing it to him through the cell bars. Ozai receives it.

And that’s how their long-overdue conversations begin.

#zutara #katara #katara of the southern water tribe #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #avatar the last airbender #zutara fic #zutara ficlet #Zutara week 2023 #Zuko #Fire lady Katara

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mr-fear · 1 year

Text

Missing Nin AU: Designs! (Later additions to the team.) + Full Team Lineup!

Again, massive thanks to the best boyfriend in the world for doing the lineart for digitalizing these and so quickly at that! It's lovely and I cannot thank him enough.

Entire 'Missing Nin' team lineup!

SO! Continuing from my last post-

The group of three begin to fend for themselves in the real world, but they need to stay off of the radar as much as possible. They (and by they I mean pretty much Obito and Kakashi being commanded by Obito) steal from smaller villages for necessities like food, water, and clothing. Neither of the boys tell Rin the truth of how they obtain their necessities, as they know they'll be scolded.

Rin would tag along with the two, however, with her tailed beast around behind a hardly functioning seal meant to break, for the time being, she's best off staying put by their campsites.

Over time, the nin adjust and (with a lot of manipulation and convincing) start working towards the goal of Obito's perfect world. He knows it's achievable thanks to Madara's "words of wisdom", but he's mostly left to figure it out on his own. Zetsu visits every now and again to check on his progress as Madara's successor of course, but these meetings are private and are strictly between Obito and Zetsu. Nobody else knows.

Eventually, Rin, seeing herself in some of the foes they happen to face along the way, recruits new members into the group. (Mostly without Obito's consent.) But to please her, he goes along with it. (Besides, 6 heads are better than 3).

Zabuza is the first to be recruited, being newly outcast from his village for his tendency to rely on bloodlust and inability to keep himself under control. So he sets out on his own as a rogue ninja. Although he's quickly intercepted by Rin and invited to join them. At least for a short while. (He stays forever, but that's okay. Kakashi takes quite the liking to him. Wink Wink Nudge Nudge-).

Kabuto is recruited next as he is intercepted just before becoming a spy for Danzo. Kabuto takes an instant liking to Rin as she reminds him of Nonou, and through listening to his love for her, Rin promised to help find her to reunite the two. In the meantime though, she takes on a very much parental and motherly role towards him. This, in turn, causes Kabuto to become very close to and protective of Rin, even developing a slight crush on her.

Finally, Utakata is recruited after finding him lounging around, seemingly carefree. Zabuza recognizes him as the 6 tails jinchuriki, and with that information, Rin develops an immediate kinship with him, doing her best to seize the opportunity to learn from a fellow jinchuriki. (And Obito is entirely good with it. Having more tailed beasts around makes his plan easier.)

Everyone on the team has their own important role to play, and ultimately, it pays off when they're eventually found by Minato. But that, again, is for another post.

TLDR: Now that the team could adequately take care of themselves, Rin felt the responsibility to recruit others in similar situations to them, as, to her, they deserved acceptance and love. These new Recruits are Zabuza, Kabuto, and Utakata.

AGAIN! If you read all of this, thank you so so much!! This AU means the world to me, and if anyone here is able to enjoy it, I'm the happiest person on the planet. Thank you all for all of the support!!

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

The Remarried Empress; Navier finds an injured male wolf and decides to take care of him as he's actually quite docile around her. She lavishes him with good food and a warm bed. After Rashta comes to the palace, she finds great comfort in him. However, one night (before 'Queen' came around), she finds out it's actually Male!Mage!Reader who transforms into his human form to confess he was worried she'd have him killed if she knew he wasn't really an animal. His magic is related to animal transformation and he can turn into any animal he desires (from a small mouse to a loyal wolf to a predatory tiger to a ferocious dragon).

He tells her he's grown feelings for her but understands if she doesn't feel the same way since she didn't even know he was a human. Maybe she gives him a chance to get to know the real him, maybe she just wants to be friends. Either way, they're close (the Emperor does not yet know the truth about the 'pet' wolf).

He's more than happy to welcome Heinrey into their relationship if they have one or happy that Navier has someone to care for her like she deserves (Maybe he can find happiness with Kosair instead if Navier just wants one partner).

I added Kosair in case you wanted him. I wanted to write for him, so I sprinkled him in for free (as if my requests aren’t free already 😂).

Sovieshu

He was definitely concerned when he heard that his wife had found an injured wolf, but he hated how you always stole her attention. He tried to convince himself that it came from a place of being worried that she wouldn’t be able to carry out her duties as the Empress, but he was jealous.

Your stealing her attention only increased when Rashta was brought into the palace, but Sovieshu found himself gradually caring less and less. After all, his new mistress was now taking more of his time in return. I feel like he would leave you and her alone now.

Will occasionally asks for updates on your health, but otherwise doesn’t show much worry over you. But it was certainly weird when he saw a random man in a sling at the New Year’s Ball. Not just that, but both you and Prince Heinrey asked his wife to dance.

But this man is so stupid that he never connected the 4 dots (you are the wolf and Heinrey is the bird). For all he knew, the bird was just a messenger bird and the wolf was just a wolf. You were just an injured man and the Prince of the Western Kingdom was just trying to get with his wife.

Rashta

She was terrified of you at first, but noticed that your paw was injured and therefore you couldn’t do much. She didn’t really pay too much attention to you, so she definitely wouldn’t have been able to tell that you were really a human, a mage no less.

But, she could see that your presence was causing Sovieshu stress. She could tell that it was because you were stealing Navier’s attention, but the fact that an animal could find a companion in the Empress and she couldn’t was infuriating for the young mistress.

However, she also noticed that you stayed away from her all the time. One time she tried to pet you and you jumped back and growled at her before whimpering at the pain in your paw. Rashta quickly drew her hand back, suddenly terrified.

Like the Emperor, she doesn’t connect the fact that Heinrey is the bird and the wolf is, in fact, a human. The young mistress is too busy making sure that her soon-to-be-husband doesn’t find out that she used to be a lowly slave.

Navier

She saw you in her hiding spot, and her heart shattered upon seeing that your leg was bent the wrong way. She immediately called over some of the servants to bring you to an animal specialist so that you could get proper treatment. The lovely Empress eventually found herself attached to the mysterious wolf.

But, one day, she came to visit you in the guest room and was surprised to see a man in the bed instead of a wolf. However, she could somehow tell that it was you. It could be your rugged handsomeness, or the fact that your irises matched. There must be a type or something because Navier found herself attracted to you.

Then there was the whole ordeal with Heinrey. She honestly thought you might have killed the Crowned Prince for ‘stealing’ her, but you were much more respectful than that. No, you sat down and had a conversation with both her and Heinrey, and you all agreed that you were attracted to each other.

That started the divorce sequence of the story. You were healed enough to be on the lookout, but you weren’t permitted to be in the courtroom. Thus, Navier had requested to be wed to both you and Heinrey. Once she was making her escape, you used your magic to freeze the guards and get yourself out of there once you were sure she was at a safe distance in the carriage.

Heinrey

He honestly didn’t see you as a rival, but he was able to see that you were a fellow shapeshifter of some sort. “It takes one to know one”, as it is said. So it starts a relationship of understanding each other on a personal level.

That got you both devising plans on how to make sure that Sovieshu remains jealous of the attention you both are getting. You both were already very handsome, but when you both asked Navier to dance one right after the other, that sent the Emperor over the edge.

This is a relationship goal if I’ve ever seen it. Sure, a polyamorous relationship might be a big deal, but if done right then it can lead to some great things. You both understand that your Queen loves you both, and you know that you both would give her the worship and praise she deserves.

If I’m being honest, this relationship is so freaking wholesome. As a professional mage, you are an advocate for the Western Kingdom when it comes to the Academy so none of your lovers have to leave. Of course, this is after you all are officially married. You also lead the mages within the Kingdom.

An alternate ending if you so choose

Kosair

Upon meeting, he felt himself entranced. He saw you on his visit to his sister, and you were handsome to a whole different degree (must be the human-werewolf glow). Probably doesn’t connect the dots and realize that you are the wolf he sees around the palace.

Either way, be you human or wolf, you find yourself by his side. He believes your story about the wolf being your companion and you both being attacked by bandits on the road. When you do reveal the truth, he isn’t hurt at all. He understands actually, because mages are losing their magic and you might be scared.

When he gets exiled from the Eastern Empire, you’re whimpering and whining at the thought of possibly never seeing him again. You were in a hybrid form, with wolf ears and a tail, so Kosair rubbed that one spot behind your ear that instantly made you relax a bit more.

He told you that his future brother-in-law had invited him to seek refuge within the Western Kingdom, and that you should join him once you can. You both embraced each other in a kiss, and departed with one last look. It would be a while until you were united with him once again.

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nonexistent-introvert · 2 years

Text

Changes (Paper Stars pt 3)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Content: Mentions of Anxiety (sry for inaccuracies) domestic Joel, flashbacks, domestic fluff, Joel being a dad, Joel's wedding

A/N: Went a little overboard on this chapter, Joel deserves some comfort and love.

Part 1 Part 2

This was wrong on so many levels. Joel wasn’t supposed to be standing here, sweating and shifting from toe to toe at the thought of marrying her. He wasn’t supposed to have given up his dream of being a musician, or his spot in college and he definitely wasn’t supposed to be looking out for you, staring anxiously at the seat beside Tommy that he and Tommy had agreed to leave, just in case you decided to come.

He had tried to make it work, studying in the day while taking up multiple part time jobs. It was hell, having to commit his time to both was exhausting, not to mention the extra transport fees he had to pay to be getting around from one place to another. Eventually, he decided to quit college despite only being there for only a few weeks or so and focus fully on the job he had gotten as an apprentice carpenter. It wasn’t much, but his boss was understanding enough to have taken him under his wing, Joel learnt to be grateful for the little things.

Tommy was shifting in his seat too, tugging on the tie around his neck that acted more like a noose. Beads of sweats trickling down his face from the hot Texas weather, the whole town being packed into the small church didn’t help a single bit. His eyes kept shifting to the door and the seat beside him, deep down he knew you won’t be coming but judging from his brother’s constant gaze on the chair beside him, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to let the glimmer of hope burn for a little while more.

Lorraine stood before him, Joel’s hands were sweating. The words of the officiant fell on deaf ears, he could hardly breathe in this suit of his. He briefly heard Lorraine say “I do” and he felt his heart pace significantly more. Sucking in breaths through his clenched teeth in an attempt to calm himself down. “Joel?” Lorraine called out, her eyes looking at him expectantly. Shit. The whole town stared at him, all awaiting his response. Joel clenched and unclenched his fists, his eyes darting to all corners of the room in his frenzy. He looked at the seat next to Tommy again. There you were, a small relieved exhale escaped him, you had a smile on your face, dressed in a beige dress he knew you had complained about hours before, your legs were crossed. He missed you, you were exactly how he remembered you. He felt himself calming down, his breaths evening out. However, Joel made the grave mistake of blinking, and the image of you sitting next to Tommy disappeared, vanished. Joel decided then it was time to accept reality, you weren’t there.

“I do,” Joel vowed as a round of applause erupted from the crowd.

The burden on his heart only grew heavier.

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“If you don’t want food poisoning, I suggest you bring something to Joel’s,” Tommy advised over the phone, you laughed. “You’re exaggerating.” “I swear, my deepest respects to Sarah who had to stomach his food for a few years before I decided that maybe he deserved to know the truth.” Tommy said, you could visualise him shivering at the thought of Joel’s food already. “Fine, fine. I’ll head over early, I’ll cook instead.” You offered, Tommy let out a horrified gasp. “I don’t know if that would make a big difference actually. You and Joel…” You huffed at Tommy, “Watch your words Tommy, maybe I’ll sneak in a lethal dose of poison just for yours.” Tommy laughed over the phone, “Don’t kill each other alright?”

Joel was surprised to see you two hours earlier than the supposed time for dinner. His eyes dropped down to the bag of groceries in your hands. “Tommy said you couldn’t cook.” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about killing Tommy. He still shifted to the side to let you in nevertheless. He walked into the kitchen, watching you unpack the groceries. You opened the fridge on your left and Joel mentally cringed at the look on your face upon seeing the fridge. “Thank god I decided to buy groceries here,” you told him, staring at the fridge that was filled with Tupperware of leftovers, sweet drinks, and beer. “I’ll handle it.” Joel offered from beside you, taking the groceries out from your bag. “No.” You pointed a finger at him, “Today, you’ll be my assistant. Prove yourself worthy of making food and maybe I’ll let you do something yourself the next time.” Joel scoffed, “I can make food perfectly fine. Tommy was exaggerating.” You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’ll take Tommy’s word for it considering the last time we cooked together you burnt half the food including the spaghetti! How do you even burn spaghetti? And this-” You gestured to the fridge. “This is not giving you any points whatsoever.” “That was a decade ago, maybe more.” Joel reminded. You handed Joel the potatoes, “Here, deal with this.” Despite his earlier arguments, he still obediently shaved and cut the potatoes.

You washed your hands, drying your hands on the towel as you poured the bowl of mushrooms into the soup that was simmering on the stove. “Where’s your washroom?” Joel looked up from the vegetables he was preparing, “Take the one in my room upstairs, I think Sarah is showering in the one downstairs.” You widened your eyes, you haven’t caught sight of the young girl ever since you stepped in. “Sarah’s home?” Joel nodded, “Was in her room, napping or whatever, probably has those headphones over her ears when she came down. Could be screaming for help and she wouldn’t hear me.” Joel complained, “You sound like an old dad.” You teased. “I am a dad.” Joel deadpanned. You shook your head at him before ascending the stairs, “Please don’t burn down the kitchen.” Joel scrunched his face up childishly at you.

You stretched upon exiting the washroom in his room. Glancing around the room out of curiosity. His bed was neatly made, a picture of him and Sarah stood proudly on the shelf. A laundry basket that was overflowing sat near the door, but what caught your attention was the pill bottles sitting on the night stand. You carefully picked them up, your heart dropping at the sight of the labels. Anxiety, high blood pressure and gastric ulcers, all that may be a result of excessive stress. Joel had always carried his burdens on those broad shoulders of his, even when the burdens get too heavy for him he’ll never admit it, preferring to crush himself under the weight then let someone share his burdens.

You ran down the stairs, barely stopping in time to prevent yourself from running straight into the kitchen counter. Your soup must have been boiling by now, Joel simply looked over to you. “I turned off the fire already, it was boiling.” He proudly announced. You gave him a pat on his back, “Nice one Miller.”

Sarah’s gasp caught both you and Joel’s attention. Sarah ran forward, the headphones that Joel mentioned hanging around her neck. “You’re here!” Sarah glanced over to the soup that was simmering and inhaled the aroma of it. “I knew it smelt too good for it to be Dad’s cooking.” Sarah laughed, Joel rolled his eyes while you let out a childish “I told you so.” Sarah hopped onto the counter and within a split second Joel was already carrying her down the counter. “No sitting on countertops in the kitchen. Go wait in the living room or something.” Joel scolded. “Dad, I’m twelve! I won’t sit too near to fire or whatever you’re worried about.” Joel shook his head, a firm no. She pouted at him, before turning her attention back to you. “Go wait in the living room, think Uncle Tommy is on his way.” You told her. She beamed up at you, when Joel started, “Can I also know why you brought those damned headphones into the shower with you?” “I forgot to take them off before I left my room.” Sarah said, Joel let out a sarcastic laugh, “Forgot? How do you forget that a headset is sitting on your head!” “I was too immersed in the music ok?” Sarah excused, Joel eyes widened, prepared to rebut when he was interrupted by the knocks on the door. “Uncle Tommy!” Sarah shouted, rushing to open the door for Tommy.

“Smells too good for Joel already!” Tommy exclaimed the moment he spotted the both of you in the kitchen. “Aw, Sarah said the same exact thing!” You pointed out to Joel who rolled his eyes at you. “I still brought Pizza, just in case your food doesn’t deliver on the taste front.” Tommy said, earning him a punch to his shoulder to which Joel cackled at. “Ouch, anyways I remembered. Pepperoni pizza, your favourite. You’ve always been into the boring old flavours.” Tommy remarked, glancing at Joel. You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes on the pan. Joel furrowed his eyebrows, “I am not boring.” Joel defended. Tommy raised his eyebrows, “I’m not into you .” You defended a little too quickly. Tommy smirked, deciding to let you off with the bright blush on your face that he’ll never let you live down. “Yeah, I never said you were boring. I said she always like boring stuff.” Joel dropped his gaze, “ I didn’t hear that part. I just saw you looking at me when you said that.” Tommy laughed, looking between the both of you who seemed to be getting along well.

“Did you go to culinary school while you’re away or something?” Tommy remarked, taking yet another mouthful of food. “It’s yummy!” Sarah complimented, “Hey slow down, don’t choke.” You adviced, watching her take another serving of soup from the pot. You watched Joel’s reaction expectantly, he wasn’t as verbal as the others but the way his eyes twinkled as he looked up told you enough. “Its good.” He simply said. You beamed up at them, “I’m glad.”

It was a great day. It was just a simple dinner that left you feeling very satisfied with the day. You collapsed against your couch, feeling very bloated from the heavy dinner you just had. It was close to 1am, Sarah insisted on a few board games that lasted too long. After which, Tommy had scrambled home to hopefully get enough sleep for tomorrow which was a Monday. You helped Joel clean up and when you left, he was already in his sweatpants, prepared to retire the night.

Imagine your surprise when you looked out of your window from your bedroom and saw Joel sitting on his front porch, his guitar in his capable hands. You frowned at the sight, Joel looked absolutely exhausted when you left an hour ago, even telling you that he had a long day to prepare for, yet here he was, strumming his guitar. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, making your way over to Joel’s front porch.

You could see it in his eyes that were in a daze and the sweat that was still evident on his face. Something was wrong. His movements stopped abruptly, you could have sworn he had jumped at the sight of you. “Sorry, did I wake you?” Joel apologised immediately. You shook your head, “Was just wondering why you were still awake.” Joel smiled sadly, “I could say the same to you.” Joel stood up, attempting to offer you his seat, but you refused and opted for sitting on the railing of his porch. “I just have a messed up sleep schedule.” You laughed, Joel smiled. “Really should fix that, ain’t good to stay up too late.” He nagged, leaning forward to lean his guitar against the wall. That was when you caught sight of it, a locket around his neck, one that made your eyes widen at the fact that he still had it.

================================================

You fidgeted with the locket around your neck. Joel was holding onto the camera he had gotten for his birthday, taking pictures of the natural scenery all around him. It was only the two of you, Tommy refused to wake up at dawn just to hike and catch the sunrise. You were sitting on a bench, one of the few benches that was present on this route, watching Joel excitedly snap pictures. “Since when did you wear necklaces?” Joel remarked, finally putting his camera down as he took a seat next to you. “It’s a locket Joel.” Joel gently picked up the locket from your hands and opened it. “An empty one.” He pointed out, “Aren’t you suppose to put a picture in it or something?” You pulled the locket away from his hands, “I can’t find a good enough picture.” You complained, staring off into the distance. He grinned, a mischievous spark in his eye. “No-” You rejected but Joel was already moving closer to you, one hand holding up his camera, “3,2,1” He counted down, and you gave in, smiling while putting a hand around his neck to push him into the small picture. Joel beamed proudly, pressing around on his camera as he admired the photo. “Let me see-” You requested to which he raised the camera high above his head, “Nope, it’s a surprise.” You rolled your eyes at his antics. “I need your locket.” He demanded, sticking his hand out. “Joel Miller, are you trying to rob me?” You accused, he scoffed, taking matters into his own hands as he pulled your hair aside and took the locket off your neck.

“Trust me on this.” He said.

A few days have passed when Joel finally returned to you with the locket in hand. You took it from him surprised, “Open it.” He said. You looked at him suspiciously before opening it, a gasp escaping you. The picture in the locket was none other than the picture you had taken with him that day, his face basically touching yours as the both of you smiled warmly in the photo, the sunrise from behind you created the perfect lighting to highlight the features on both your faces. “Pulled some strings.” Joel awkwardly scratched the back of his head. You smiled at him, finally solving the question that was bothering you for the longest time ever since his birthday. “Joel, this is the perfect gift! Happy birthday!” You shoved it back to him. Joel’s jaw dropped, “Do you not like it?”, “I love it, that’s why I want you to have it.” You replied, Joel looked at you with a questioning gaze. “Joel, I have been struggling to find you a gift ever since your birthday, you said I didn’t have to but I still felt inclined to. I bought the locket, hoping to give it to you but I chickened out, thought maybe you wouldn’t like wearing a locket. Then you took it from me and made this, it’s perfect. So take it Joel.” You explained. Joel glanced at the locket in your hands, his face unreadable. “Or you can don’t, if you don’t like it then-.” You quickly tried to hide the locket back into your pocket. Joel turned around, his back facing you. “I’ll take it, help me?” He said, pointing at his neck. You grinned, “It’s an honour Joel.” Placing the locket around his neck.

Joel wore it around everywhere, an action that made you feel touched. However, you didn’t notice when he stopped wearing it either.

============================

Joel’s eyes followed your gaze, glancing down at the locket around his neck. He smiled, delicately opening it to show you the very same picture from when you were teenagers. “You kept it.” You stated. He smiled warmly, “Of course I did.” You bit on your lip, “I don’t think I saw you wearing it just now.” Joel shooked his head, studying your face as he contemplated if he should tell you the truth. “I wear it when I can’t sleep.” He admitted, thinking back on his sleep that had caused him to be sitting here in the first place.

Joel shot up from his bed, clutching onto the sheets of his bed. His breathing rapid and uneven, his eyes widening. His right-hand clutches onto his chest, feeling the racing heart rate under his palms. His left hand reached out for the pill bottles on his nightstand. In his exhaustion, he had forgotten to take his pills. Joel swallowed his pills at one go, stumbling out of bed to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of water which was exceptionally tough with his shaking hands. The haunting thoughts getting softer in his mind as the pills took effect.

“How could you! She’s only 17!”

“Joel, you have to take responsibility.”

“Joel, you need to work hard, be a man.”

“Joel, I can’t do this anymore.”

“I had enough, I’m sorry.”

The words from his past bubbling up in his mind, thoughts that made his throat constrict that he has to gasp for air. He closed his eyes forcefully, trying his best to block out the thoughts as much as he could as he sat on the floor, leaning against the cabinets, curling himself up.

When he finally felt that it had passed, he stood himself up, crashing into his cabinet when a light dizziness caught up with him. He sat on the couch, pulling open the drawer in the coffee table, to retrieve the locket he had kept safely in a jewelry box. He opened it again, feeling himself calm down at the sight of your bright smile. He then wore it around his neck before bringing his guitar out with him to the front porch, hoping that it will comfort him.

================================

Your heart broke for the man before you. Joel used to be the most decisive and confident man you knew. Maybe it proved that despite the strong facade that Joel put up, he was still human after all. “If I felt uneasy or anything, I’ll wear it and it’s like some kind of charm, I always sleep soundly after that.” Joel laughed, the idea of him, clutching onto a locket for dear life hoping to have a good sleep. It was comical. You drummed your fingers along the edge of the railing, your gaze fixated on a street lamp across the street. “I didn’t mean to intrude but- I can’t help but notice the pills.” Joel wiped his face with his hands, it was a side of him that he rather hide. “I’m getting help, burns a hole right through my wallet.” He chuckled, you frowned at him. “You only go back when you run out of pills huh?” Joel nodded, you frowned at him, hating how well you knew him. You didn’t say anything else except waltz straight into his house like you owned it. When he went back in while resting his guitar on its usual stand, you walked out of the kitchen with the alcoholic drinks from his fridge. “The next time you need one of these, you come over and tell me. Depending on the situation, I’ll give it to you and we’ll talk if you need to drown in your sorrows.” Joel smiled, he was always so used to taking care of everyone, it has been a while since someone worried and cared for him.

“Yes ma’am” He said, trying his best to stifle a yawn. “Goodnight Joel.” His eyes widened, reaching out to you before letting his hand fall limp at his side. “Goodnight” he replied instead.

With the locket in his palm and the thoughts of you, Joel fell asleep with a soft smile that night.

#joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader

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graciegoeskrazy · 13 days

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idea - what do you think it would be like when charli first introduced george to her daughter??? the idea has been pingponging in my head for a bit. ALSO! how do you think george would feel/react

LOVE THIS

Y'all had actually met before when him, matty and your mom were working together on the vocals for 'spinning'

the plan was kind of last minute so you had no choice but to come to the studio with your mom - not that you minded at all

you had heard about the band before but knew very little about them or the band

other than the fact that your mom was a fan and admired them

They were nice, your mom sounded beautiful as always, you mainly stayed quiet and scrolled on your phone because you knew they more than likely only had one night to do this and didn't want to be in the way and you were content watching random things on tiktok

you all said goodbye, it was fun, songs a hit, yay that's it

right?

WRONG THEY START DAITING

it wasnt official official for awhile but they were texting nonstop and clearly something was happening they just didn't know what exactly

as much as she didn't talk about it or swore against it you didn't miss how she smiled nearly everytime she got a notification or how the one time you caught a glance at it the contact said "George💚"

which you thought was interesting

the truth was that even though Charli really really liked George and vise versa they were both busy as hell and currently on opposite sides of the country and they didn't want to tell you until they knew for sure and were able to actually see each other

especially because your mom and broken up with her long time boyfriend not that long ago

and hurt you too

a lot

eventually the NME awards were taking place

and you were your mums date!

at the table you noticed her friend give a suggestive nod to somewhere on the other side of the room to which your mom sighed and smiled and shook her head no

"what?" you asked

"oh its nothing darling. I was just trying to get you mom to say hi to a familiar face. that's all."

Charli slapped her friends leg under the table

you realized the table she was nodding to was the one George and the band were at

you also realized she was staring back and forth the whole night

he was too

iwishyoudtalktalkwishyoudtalktalkwishyoudtalktalk

anywhooooo cut to a few days later

your mom was throwing another party or whatever

and said she needed to talk to you

"someone very special to me to gonna come over tomorrow during the party-"

"Its George."

she was FLABERGASTED

like she thought she did a good job of hiding everything from you all this time but guess not!

"What?!"

"It's George. You're talking about George. He's the 'someone special' right?" you said giving a smirk

her jaw was on the floor

"How do you know that? Who told you that?!"

you just gave her a look and said "Im young not dumb and oblivious mom."

She just smiled so big and pulled you into a hug.

okay so as if its a surprise to anyone - George is a nervous wreck :)

like practically pacing

Its not like the whole point of this party was for you and George to meet

and like more than half of the people there didn't even know they were dating

and charli and george weren't even sure if you were going to make an appearance

but ya did

You knew him and your mom were anxious about the meeting so u decided to have fun with it

you waited till you mom left the kitchen and it was just George and a couple of other people who weren't paying attention

You grabbed a drink and a small plate of food dropping a casual "hey George." as you did it

you could sense his heart rate quickening it was halarious

He cleared his throat, "Hey, y/n. How've you been."

You shrugged "Fine...You've been busy though?"

"Y/n Aitchison." You mom sternly said form behind startiling you

you said "sorry" and gave him a genuine smile before heading back upstairs

They both laughed so hard once you left

He was nice it wasnt like you would mess with his tooooo much

....

........

just a little bit maybe

it could be worse

she could be dating matty

#awe #the 1975 #x daughter!reader #george daniel x daughter!reader #george daniel #george daniel x you #george daniel x reader

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zwy01 · 6 months

Text

Noble OCs - Gradeus’ Clan

Making five OCs for every clan!

Asterion: Pureblood. Entered eternal sleep, belonged to Lagus’ generation.

Asterion was the father of Pandora and the grandfather of Gradeus. He was a good father to his little Pandora and felt worried when her personality suddenly changed from energetic and upbeat to lethargic and unresponsive when she was about 80 years old. He tried asking what’s wrong to which she always smiled and answered “nothing”. Pandora didn’t want to make her Clan Leader worry about her, so she never told him about the permanent condition that tortured her on the inside. Asterion gradually stopped with his questions because he could sense that his daughter was reluctant to share. He could’ve ordered her to be truthful, but he didn’t want to force her to be uncomfortable. He was very lenient with her and let her skip mandatory events. Sometimes, he canceled his own meetings and duties to spend time with her. He also defended her when others called her an “old lady” to poke fun at her. Asterion was a pretty relaxed person, though he was a terrifying force whenever someone tried to bully Pandora. Father and daughter had a close, loving relationship despite the wall the latter put up between them. Perhaps Pandora’s tendencies to hide her struggles didn’t come from nowhere. Asterion also suffered from a strange one-of-a-kind condition where he craved the flesh of humans. Only his partner, the mother of their daughter, and his mysterious best friend were aware of it. Other than those two, no one had a clue. Asterion was perfectly fine in his childhood until he hit his teenage years when he suddenly gained an intense and insatiable appetite. Nobles don’t need to eat, yet he was always looking for food. Nothing seemed to be the right answer and his hunger drove him mad. Eventually, after putting everything he could possibly find on Earth into his mouth, he discovered that only human flesh could completely quell his symptoms. Asterion’s partner and best friend helped him source human corpses and even live human sacrifices from the outside world and brought them back to Lukedonia for him. The disappearance of dead bodies from graves and live sacrifices from ritual grounds contributed to the humans’ beliefs of the dead rising and sacrifice rituals working. Asterion was ashamed of himself and kept his condition a secret from everyone else, including his daughter. He felt like a monster, but he had no other choice. His partner and best friend made sure to “pay” the humans for their contributions, which just led to even more live sacrifices thus causing the ritual to become a common practice in many parts of the world. Asterion’s hobbies were meditation and trying to make Pandora happy.

Daedalus: Non-pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to Gejutel’s generation.

Daedalus is an inventor, architect, and sculptor. When he was a child, he kept complaining to his parents about their “boring, unoriginal, and lacking” home even though it was perfectly fine by your average noble standards. There is no best, only better, he repeated. He’d run around and point to the walls, ceilings, and corridors gesturing and explaining the changes he’d make if he were to be in charge of the layout. He was confident with his visions. Daedalus’ creativity would come and go in random surges and he had a tough time sitting still during his education. He’d barely get to the fifth page of his book and then he’s suddenly screaming and jumping up and down shouting “Eureka!!”, to his parents’ confusion. They’d sigh at their hyper son and wonder why he’s saying the name of his imaginary friend… or something, for the nth time. His parents eventually gave up on trying to get him to finish his education because it seemed impossible with his personality. Plus, they wanted to support Daedalus in his passion despite have no understanding of it themselves, so they let him run wild with his full potential. Time goes by, Daedalus turns 200, and his parents gift him with the opportunity to remodel their home. Go ahead and do your magic, they said. Daedalus is overjoyed. They end up sort of regretting making such an offer to their son, though. He turns their home into a giant, complex maze that is so hard to navigate it’s impossible to not get lost, even with loads of practice. Only Daedalus knows how to get around. Guests jokingly comment on how it’s almost like their home was designed to trap people inside forever. Who knows what the designer was thinking. Daedalus calls himself a genius and his work a masterpiece. He names their new home “Labyrinth” which just confuses his family again. His parents love him, so they simply deal with it and accept their new life of never learning how to get from the dining room to the living room. They’re happily suffering as they feel proud of their son. Daedalus, his love, and their son Icarus Pyradros live together in their maze-like multigenerational home.

Helga: Pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to the Previous Lord’s generation.

Helga is a shipwright. Her parents love the sea and built their home on the coast. Little Helga was born in the glittering waves during a beautiful sunrise. She opened her eyes to the magnificent scenery and immediately fell in love with it. Helga has a very active lifestyle. She harvests planks of timber from the forest during the day and builds ships of all shapes and sizes at night. The twinkles of stars and sounds of crashing waves keep her company as she diligently develops her craft. She works until sunrise and goes home to relax with her parents before heading to the forest again. Her ships are light and strong. When further enhanced with her noble powers, they can easily withstand aggressive attacks from all directions. Helga likes to put her ships to the test. She’d gather her huge group of friends for spars and they’d all go to the beach for a fun, competitive game. She splits everyone into many teams, and some of them do the rowing while others jump between the moving ships as they fight each other in hand-to-hand combat. Last team standing wins. It’s a great way to develop some fitness without getting bored, though sparring in traditional training grounds is neat too. Helga’s ships are popular with nobles and humans alike. There are instances of sea-loving nobles asking to go into eternal sleep out in the water in one of her vessels. At some point, a group of humans witnessed a noble’s death on a ship and mistook the glowing red lights for fire, which is possibly what led to them mimicking the practice and writing sagas of their own with accounts of setting ships ablaze with the dead in luxurious “ship burial” funerals. Helga just shrugs. It’s cool, they can keep the misunderstanding if they want. Well, maybe it’s waste of wood. Her Tradio parent always told to her to thank the trees when she harvests them, so she’s very serious about it. Helga’s partner is an unnamed Kravei. They are childless for now and plan to have one soon.

Ragnar: Non-pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to Raskreia’s generation.

Ragnar is chill. He and his minotaur friends hold hands and dance around in a circle together. Then they braid each other’s hair and have a tea party in the fields and gossip about the love lives of his fellow clan members. Ragnar was raised by minotaurs then by his adoptive mother Freyja. His biological parents had him because they thought having a child would patch their less-than-stable relationship and gave him up when they decided he wasn’t a satisfactory bandaid. Ragnar went off to live with a group of minotaurs who took him in because they pitied him. One day, Freyja was riding her cat chariot and stopped by a lake to rest. Little Ragnar climbed into her chariot and fell asleep. Freyja waited for the boy to wake up and asked him if he would like a permanent home after finding out that his parents abandoned him. She had always wanted another child but didn’t quite have enough lifespan to spare after having her biological children. Ragnar said yes, the minotaurs congratulated him, and he went to his new home. Currently, Ragnar lives with Freyja, her Ceresthalassa partner, and their son Khumbo Ceresthalassa who is his much older adoptive brother. Khumbo’s full-sisters Hnoss and Gersemi also live close by and visit often. Ragnar is a blacksmith of axes. His interest in weapon-making comes from frequenting the workshop of Tabitha Pyradros, the sister of Freyja. When Ragnar comes of age, Auntie Tabitha helps him establish his own workshop which would become the hangout location for him and his minotaur friends. The axes he makes go to his fellow clan members. Ragnar has yet to perfect the art of smithing like Tabitha, but he’s working hard towards that. He’s positive that he can reach her level in a few centuries. How ambitious! Ragnar’s partner is Kirsi Vuokko Loyard.

Torunn: Non-pureblood. Alive in the present day, belongs to the Previous Lord’s generation.

Torunn was the playmate and study buddy of Gradeus. She stayed with him until he turned 200 and resigned to pursue a different job which she’s currently doing. She wasn’t assigned to Gradeus by Pandora; rather, she came to him of her own accord. Pandora was more than welcoming of Torunn’s arrival and proposal to become Gradeus’ companion because he kept scaring potential candidates away with his not-so-nice qualities and as his mother, she was worried about him being lonely. In reality, he probably didn’t need a companion like his mother had thought, but he wouldn’t have minded either way. One more person for him to terrorize. In Gradeus’ distant memory, his initial encounter with Torunn was when his mother officially introduced them to each other. Their actual first meeting was when Gradeus “rescued” a very distraught Torunn who had been left behind to suffer by her bullies. They cut off all her limbs and dunked her into a barrel of ale and deliberately trapped her there. As a non-pureblood on the weaker end, she couldn’t have escaped on her own as she had lost too much blood and exhausted all her energy. She was prepared to die. Then in came Gradeus. He aggressively kicked tipped over the barrel out of curiosity and released Torunn as a bonus. He skipped behind her, looked at her in the eye, and grinned as he told her that guess she’s lucky and won’t die today. He went about his day and forgot about it an hour later. Torunn remembered, and she vowed to repay the favor. As Gradeus’ companion, she tolerated all of his eccentric and sometimes violent behaviors whether they were directed at others or herself. It didn’t matter to her, because back then he saved her. She also volunteered to take the blame for the problems he caused without complaint. After Gradeus comes of age, Torunn resigns and opens her own brewery. Currently, she makes ale, mead, and wine. Maybe her inspiration comes from trauma. No one knows for sure. She stays in Lukedonia most of the time and sometimes travels to interact with humans to obtain knowledge of their alcohol. Torunn’s mead may or may not have received the name of “Poetic Mead” from the humans for its divine taste. It’s like a mythical drink to them. She’s rather flattered. Professor Titus is a fan too. Torunn currently lives with her Mergas partner and their daughter.

Thank you for reading! Siriana is next!

#noblesse #manhwa #myart #oc #original character #kori’s asterion #kori’s daedalus #kori’s helga #kori’s ragnar #kori’s torunn

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johaerys-writes · 1 year

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Hi! I'm not sure if you do requests, but if you do, could I please have a short fic about the fight Achilles and Patroclus had over Briseis, where Achilles got into that fight with Agamemnon and allowed Briseis to get dragged off by him? could I have a fic of that part from Achilles's pov where he eventually acquiesces to Patroclus and steps in and saves Briseis? Tysm in advance :) your writing is amazing

Thank you for this prompt!! I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope you like!

Achilles/Patroclus | 2k | T | angst, h/c

The spear snaps in Achilles’ hands in an explosion of wood, the two halves of it now useless. He flings them away, then tosses the ewer on the table across the tent— the sound it makes as it shatters against a chair is sickening.

Achilles’ rage is hot, incandescent. He can feel nothing beyond it, think nothing, see nothing. He’s choking on it. He's drowning.

“I will kill him,” he swears. “I will kill him.”

Patroclus follows him inside the tent. He stands there, silent, gaze solemn and forlorn.

“I should have killed him. I almost did, there. How dare he? How dare they all?”

Agamemnon disrespected him, tore his honour to shreds and tossed it at Achilles’ feet like a filthy rag, and no one lifted a finger to oppose him. He ordered Achilles’ prize taken from him, and for what? For what? For speaking up, for telling the truth, for forcing him to finally see reason and spare them all—and himself— from the terrible fate Apollo’s wrath promised?

Achilles’ hands ball into fists, his nails digging into the meat of his palms.

“He will pay. They will all pay. They have doomed themselves. Let them find a way to win this war without Aristos Achaion. I shall watch them try and fail and fail again, and I will laugh.” His lips peel back in a cruel smile. Vindication twists in his gut, thick and heavy, making him ill.

“Achilles,” Patroclus says. His voice is breathless and urgent. “We must do something.”

Achilles barely hears him. “I will speak to my mother.” Thetis will surely know what he should do. The gods have surely been watching; she must know what the gods plan next. She will go speak to them, and come back to tell him, and Achilles will watch it all unfold soon enough.

He is almost at the exit of the tent when Patroclus’ hand on his arm stops him. “We don’t have time. They will have taken her by the time you return. We must do something now!”

“What are you talking about?”

Patroclus stares at him in question. “Briseis.”

Achilles blinks. The name, spoken out loud, knocks the breath out of him. His rage is right there, blurring the edges of his vision, making his blood boil, but there’s a coldness creeping up on him now that he has no words for.

Briseis.

Briseis, with her laughing eyes and her timid smiles. Briseis, with her soft Anatolian accent and her slender hands, constantly working her spindle. Briseis, bringing his men food and wine and medicine when Apollo's plague rendered them incapable of doing it themselves. The very men that killed her family and burned her home.

“Achilles, please,�� Patroclus whispers. His hold on Achilles’ arm grows stronger. “Please.”

“I can do nothing for her,” Achilles says, and it is as if someone else has spoken the words, not him. “Agamemnon made his choice. He must bear the consequences.”

Patroclus stares and stares. He looks at him like he doesn’t understand, like he doesn’t even know him. “You can’t let them take her.”

“There’s nothing I can do. Agamemnon chose this.”

“You know what he will do to her!” Patroclus is shaking. His skin is sallow and his eyes are dark in their despair like bottomless caverns. “You will not help her? After—everything?”

How many years has she been in their household? How many times has she poured the wine in Achilles' cup, tended to his guests? How many nights has she sat close to the fire with him and Patroclus after everyone was gone, laughed at their jokes, sung to the tune of Achilles’ lyre? Small moments, mundane and inconsequential—but a part of their life there nonetheless. The life they have all built there for themselves.

Achilles thinks of her, torn away from that life and tossed into Agamemnon’s care, afraid and friendless, and shivers.

“I can do nothing for her,” he says again with finality, in an effort to convince himself, to shake free this cold uncertainty that’s taken hold of him. “It has been decided.”

“She is one of us. How can you just let Agamemnon take her?” Patroclus’ eyes are brimming with tears and his voice is raw, but his gaze remains on Achilles’ unflinchingly, carving him to the bone. “Where is your honour? How can you let him defile her?”

Achilles clenches his jaw so hard his teeth ache. It is his honour he’s trying to safekeep—his own, Patroclus’, all of the Myrmidons’. If Agamemnon does go through with it, if he does take Briseis, the rest of the army will see him for the petulant, greedy, thoughtless tyrant he truly is. They will lose respect for him, and once battle after battle is lost, he will come to Achilles, begging for forgiveness. They will all see that Achilles was right, after all, and that without him the war can’t be won; order will have been restored. It is what’s right. It is for the best.

Then why does it all feel so, so wrong?

He averts his gaze and turns away. He can’t bear to look into Patroclus' eyes any longer and see the anger and disbelief there.

“I have to go,” he says.

Outside their tent, the slaves are milling about, tending to their work. Briseis is sitting outside the servants’ tent, a mortar and pestle in her hands. She glances up at Achilles, and Patroclus following behind him, and smiles.

She does not know what is to come.

Achilles strides swiftly towards the shimmering sea in the distance, but the sight of men across the long stretch of beach pins him in place. Their polished bronze helmets shine bright in the scorching sun, their red plumes tremble with each step. The Myrmidons guards glare at them as they draw near.

They stop before Achilles, eyes cast down, stuttering a greeting. “We have come to take custody of the girl,” they tell him, needlessly— he knows why they are there.

Agamemnon hasn’t wasted a moment before sending his dogs to do his bidding. Achilles struggles to hold back his temper, to keep his hand from reaching for the sword at his belt. He wants to see them trembling with fear and cowering at his feet, begging for mercy. He wants them, and Agamemnon, dead.

Patroclus is beside him. He is taut like a bow string; Achilles can feel the tension radiating off of him like heat. He turns to him, the request already at the tip of his tongue: Bring the girl.

The words die there, the moment he meets Patroclus’ bloodshot eyes. Achilles knows it then, deep in his heart, that he will never be able to face him again if he orders him this.

Automedon is near, waiting. He catches Achilles' eye and nods; his charioteer goes to Briseis, bringing her forward.

Achilles looks away. He cannot bear to watch, but there’s nowhere to hide anymore, no way to escape this predicament. The game has started, the pawns have all been set, and now they must all play. Every single one of them.

Briseis glances from Achilles to Patroclus and back. She hasn't understood yet what's happening; only when one of the men, Eurybates—who has eaten and drank with the Myrmidons in many a feast—steps towards her decisively, does panic settle in.

She is one of us.

They grab her by the arms and drag her forcefully away. She struggles in their hold, while the rest of the camp watches numbly on.

You will just let them take her?

Achilles can feel Patroclus’ eyes on him, willing him to say something, anything, to put an end to this. They burn him.

You will not help her?

When the men reach the edge of the camp, Achilles' voice slices through the shocked silence like a knife.

“Release her.”

A few gasps, then murmurs through the gathered crowd. Agamemnon’s men stop to gawk at him in curiosity.

“She is mine. She was given to me by Agamemnon in acknowledgement of my contributions to this war. He shames and dishonours himself, he who sends his underlings to take back a gift he himself has given. If the High King—such that he is—wants his war prize back, he’d better come and claim it, and face me.”

Achilles takes a step forward. His sword hilt is a cool, familiar shape in the palm of his hand.

“I will be waiting for him. Make sure you tell him that.”

Fear darkens the men's countenances; Achilles knows the sight well. They let Briseis go and leave the camp after a hasty salute. She falls to the ground; her braid has come undone, and in her struggle, one of the buckles of her belt has given way, letting the fabric of her dress pool at her feet.

"Go to her," Achilles tells Patroclus softly, who jolts, as if coming awake from a dream. He rushes to her and helps her up, then takes her towards her tent, to tend to her skinned knees and elbows that have already started to bleed. She leans on him gratefully, brushing the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand.

Achilles lets out the breath he has been holding. It comes out shakily; though the messengers are gone now, the threat he has issued for Agamemnon seems to loom over him like a poised blade. He heads towards the beach, leaving the camp that buzzes noisily behind him like a kicked hornet's nest.

"You stopped them."

Patroclus' steps are almost soundless, the sand yielding beneath his weight with a whisper. Achilles glances at him over his shoulder; the sunset warms Patroclus' features, brings out the amber flecks in his tired eyes.

"Of course I did. She is important to you."

Patroclus draws near. His hand, when he sets it on Achilles' shoulder, is warm and gentle.

"She is part of our home," he says softly. "I know she's important to you too."

Achilles doesn't respond. He turns back to gaze at the vast expanse of sea before him. It shames him to think that had it not been for Patroclus, Achilles might have let her be taken, lost in his wrath, without sparing a thought to what would happen to her.

"Is she alright?"

"Frightened, but sound. More than a little grateful that she'll be sleeping in her own bed tonight, and not Agamemnon's." Patroclus' arms come around Achilles' middle to hug him close. The relief in the sigh he lets out is palpable. "You stood up for her. You stood up for us. All of us."

"I just didn't want her to suffer," Achilles whispers. "Neither her, nor you. I know you care for her. As do I."

Patroclus' lips graze the side of Achilles' neck. Achilles leans into his embrace, and the knot of tension in his throat eases. Their earlier argument is but a faint echo; Achilles would gladly let it be forgotten. Nothing is worth Patroclus' distress, nor his tears.

"What do you think Agamemnon will do now?" Patroclus asks. "Think he'll send more men for her?"

"He is welcome to try, if he dares. I will not give her up without a fight."

Patroclus hums his assent, nodding thoughtfully. He stares at the waters silently for a long while before he asks, "What do the gods think of all this? What did your mother say?"

Achilles shifts in Patroclus' arms to face him. His philtatos gazes back at him calmly, the salty breeze combing through his dark curls. Achilles brushes them away from his brow with his fingers, and leans in for a kiss; he revels in this peaceful moment, this quiet that's theirs alone. Though before Patroclus joined him at the water's edge Achilles' mind had been crowded with questions, fears and concerns, now he can see the path ahead of them clearly.

"The gods do as the gods will," Achilles says. "Humans also. It is no use worrying about them, anticipating their actions. I am tired of dancing to their tune. I have done so for too long. Way too long."

He steps backwards towards the sea, drawing Patroclus with him. The waters are pleasantly cool when they touch their feet. With the open sky above them and the sea below them, and Briseis safe in their camp tonight, Achilles couldn't care less about what tomorrow may bring.

"All that matters is this," he murmurs against Patroclus' lips, pulling him close, "here, now."

Thank you so much for reading!! Like and reblog if you liked this, it really means a lot <3

#patrochilles #tsoa #the song of achilles #achilles #patroclus #briseis #achilles/patroclus #achilles x patroclus #johaerys writes

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twisted-art-wounders · 11 months

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Marinette Dupain-Cheng The village baker and seamstress; Marinette does any different jobs around her village to make ends meet while dealing with the abuse spouted out by the noble Lady Chloe. Kind and creative Marinette does her best to help when she can, after helping a strange traveller she is gifted with a magical seed that grew into a small fairy who presented her a pair of magical earrings that could perform a miracle. Once she climbed to the top of a giant beanstalk she discovered a giant castle occupied by a giant named Adrien. At first she doesn't trust the giant (since he is friends with Chloe after all) but after making a deal with him to teach him how to bake bread in exchange for treasures she can use to help pay off Chloe, she starts to see how kind and gentle he really is.

After some time she convinces him to come with her back to the village and at first everyone is terrorized of him, but soon he starts to show off his kindness and helps the village to thrive.

(Prince) Adrien Agreste The giant that lives in the clouds; Adrien was once a happy prince set to inherit his mother's kingdom come his 18th birthday but tragically on his 16th birthday Adrien would lose his both his mother and his freedom. He was cursed and grow to a monstrous size that caused the total collapse of their castle which killed his mother. With his new found size Adrien was dazed and confused as he almost destroyed the kingdom but his father King Gabriel used a powerful spell and sent Adrien into the clouds where he'd soon live. 5 years would pass and Adrien was forced to live a new life among the clouds, while he had shelter, food and clothing thanks to his father he was also isolated and kept away form all humans as he father told him his presence among them would cause unrest.

With only Chloe as a visitor and rarely seeing his father anymore Adrien become more lonely then ever until he met Marinette. At first it was hard to get her to trust him but eventually the two started to bond over their baking and started to become close. Marinette convinces him to come back with her to her village.

King Gabriel Agreste The current King of the land of Graham de Vanily; after the great tragedy that befell the kingdom 5 years ago Gabriel become a recluse and stayed within his newly rebuilt palace after the death of his wife and disappearance of his son. While not of royal blood himself Gabriel is a gifted spell caster and using his powers he decided to punish his rotten brother in law by cursing his nephew Felix to become wild and uncontrollable. The spell seemed to backfire and made both Felix and Adrien grow to monstrous sizes and destroy both castles; causing Queen Emilie's death. Trying to hide the truth Gabriel used a powerful spell to send Adrien into the clouds creating a land form him to live on and to keep him away form the people of the land who he knew would blame him for the great tragedy. He then came up with the story of the monster that attacked both kingdoms and stole away prince Adrien.

Gabriel never told Adrien about the cause of his mother's death but did tell him in order to keep himself and world safe he'd have to live in the sky where no one would see him. Meanwhile Gabriel looked far and wide to find a away to bring his fallen queen back to life, he eventually discovered that a pair of powerful magical objects could grant the wish of anyone who held both items. Gabriel became consumed with finding those objects, neglecting Adrien and his kingdom causing the nobles to become more power hungry and driven. Lady Chloe Bourgeois Part of one of noble families that rule over Marinette's village; Chloe is spoiled and full of herself she'll do anything to get what she wants. She threatens both Marinette and her village with the fear of a giant she has full command over. She's Adrien's only friend at first and tricks him into believing she is a kind and caring person and tells him to help her hold onto all the treasures the villages pay her. She works closely with King Gabriel to keep Adrien locked away and keep the villages in order. Lady Kagami Tsurugi One of the nobles that rule over the smaller villages; Kagami was hired by the former queen Amelie to help her son the former prince of the fallen kingdom. Kagami and Felix set out together to find the truth about what King Gabriel is after and why he cursed Felix. Kagmai is very capable and strong she's able to command armies and fight on even footing with the strongest swordsmen. She starts become close to Felix and he treasures her as both a close friend and a lover. Prince Felix Fathom The son of the former queen Amelie; at the age of 16 he was cursed by an evil spell that caused him to grow to a monstrous size, in a fit of rage and confusion he destroyed the castle killing his father and destroyed the rest of the kingdom. After his rampage he and his mother had to abandon their kingdom and go into hiding, Felix continued to grow as he aged but managed to stay hidden thanks to his mother's powers. Felix soon discovered that the curse that made him grow and have a rampage was caused by his uncle King Gabriel. He decided to set out and find out what really happened to his cousin the long lost prince Adrien. He knew Adrien was also cursed and wanted to free him form his uncle's control, his mother enlisted the help of the noble woman Kagami Tsurugi to accompany Felix on his quest and find the true intentions of the corrupt King.

#marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #chloe bourgeois #kagami tsurugi #felix fathom #marinette and the beanstalk #au #miraculous #fan art

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