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sarahreesbrennan · 2 months ago

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Another Interesting Spoilery Evil Question

To directly answer the question before I start rambling, the Cobra’s body’s physical age is 24.

(You can stop reading here if you like. This gets very long!)

When Marius meets the Cobra (chapter 18 epigraph from Time of Iron) he correctly identifies him as Marius’s own age at the time - 18.

At the time of the book all the physical bodies’ ages are as follows.

Marius - 24

The Cobra - 24

Rahela - 24

Octavian - 24

(Pio and Nemeth, Octavian’s advisers, are in their early 40s and late 50s respectively - they’re Octavian’s dad’s people and that is part of why they are so stressed. Their king died young, Octavian became king in his teens and it has been an uneasy court ever since.)

Emer - 23

Key - 20

Lia - 19

Rae and Eric in our world were both 4 years younger than their bodies in this world (so they would both be 20 if the story hadn’t happened to them). For the moment we’ll leave aside Key, who had another life too, in a different way. (He was a little kid, but old enough to walk after his father, in the epigraph from Time of Iron in chapter 15.)

I do age shenanigans for two reasons.

—One is that age in fiction and reality is weird, and I wanted to portray that. If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when I was 7, is that okay? If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when aged 41, is that okay? Mr Darcy’s always in his late twenties: Elizabeth Bennet will never be older than 21, but she seemed so glamorous and all-knowing to me when I was a kid.

And if you walk into a story, when in their character development do you find them? Would we like Darcy when he’s sneering at Elizabeth at a ball? Who is it that we love and when?

Plenty of adult women fancied Edward Cullen, perpetually a teen (or was he? Fantasy and horror also open up the possibility of immortality - but in a way, all fictional characters are immortal. Holden Caulfield isn’t growing up any more than Edward Cullen is. And like fictional characters and immortals, the dead aren’t getting any older either—I think often of Anne Rice, author of the Vampire Chronicles, who wrote the doomed child vampire Claudia after losing her own daughter Michele as a child. Death, immortality, fiction and the overlap!) When I read or watched stories in which characters were in different/changed bodies they usually seemed younger - often their younger selves, or a younger/cuter body (Peggy Sue Got Married, Scarlet Heart). (Exceptions exist of course, e.g. Howl’s Moving Castle.) And I like magic losing something, costing you something, plus I’m a contrarian. So I wanted them older.

—The other is that LONG LIVE EVIL is a story about trauma, which often arrests your age in your mind. The period in which you were enduring the horrors is a blank in which you couldn’t develop normally, or in which you had plenty of experiences but few of them match with your peers’.

Cancer did it to me, which wasn’t horrendous as I was in my early 30s and that’s still adult, just meant a bit of ‘oh no I’m not this child’s mother, I’m too young - actually I’m a bit old to be this child’s mother now I think about it, but anyway I don’t claim her’ and the like. But I’ve seen it do the same for people with cancer I befriended or whom I mentor, and it’s a very different proposition if the lost years are 17-21.

It’s not just cancer, I’ve seen bereavement work that way on people, and apparently celebrity works on the mind like trauma and arrests you at the age you became famous in a lot of ways. It’s being taken out of the run of ordinary life, walking through your portal into strangeness.

But in the end most of us wind up with years that feel lost, I think, and playing catch-up is the only way forward.

And allegory remains allegory: if I’m writing a werewolf I’m taking about rage and body horror, sure, but I’m also talking about werewolves.

I was actually confused by this ask at first as I’d written a whole section where Eric says he’s going to die of a heart attack at 20 and Marius is exasperated as Eric is a little young to start lying about his age! But it must have fallen victim to my many cuts - stories transform! - and I can see why, because I don’t think Eric exactly thinks of himself as 20 anymore.

I had some struggles with the age stuff, it’s another layer of complication in a complicated story and there were worries raised that it was unnecessary and might make some characters less appealing but in the end I decided it was necessary to me and let the characters be unappealing, then.

I also enjoy the twisting, fluid ages because they cause conflict, and conflict is story.

Rae uses her new age (and thus doesn’t need to think of her absolutely horrible self worth) to count herself out as a romantic option in Key’s eyes.

She also thinks of the Emperor as in his mid-20s, as he is - after a time skip that happens in the original Time of Iron, years in which Key and Emer were Lia’s servants. She knows about those years, but she doesn’t put it together.

At Eric and Marius’s first meeting 6 years before the events of LONG LIVE EVIL, Eric also hasn’t been in the book that long. He was in a horrifically traumatic survival situation for a large part of the time he was inside, when he approached Marius to blackmail him. That is objectively a deranged thing to do, but Eric is thinking like a terrified 14 year old and also like a Huge Fan of Marius. aka the quintessential white knight, the Last Hope who is reserved and dignified and crucially, 24-28.

That would be the Marius Eric at the time knows when he approaches Marius in the flesh, Marius at 18 and coming off family trauma, friend trauma and quasi-romantic trauma himself. Marius actually DOES go into dissociative states and kill people, Eric was taking a huge risk with his own life that not a single person in the country would have taken. Marius is a Valerius, and they are killers. (The whole court, Marius included, thought Lady Katalin ((Rahela’s mother)) was being very daring by like, touching Marius’s hand when he was 17.)

Eric is acting wild partly because a) he is wild, b) he’s desperate but also crucially c) he’s thinking of Marius as someone that Marius isn’t yet and d) he’s not thinking of things from Marius’s POV, and doesn’t until the events of LONG LIVE EVIL. Their quasi friendship/quasi hostage situation (that the hostage had firmly decided was happening) couldn’t have happened without a perfect storm of weirdness, risks and lack of understanding what the hell was going on.

Marius would not have seen a 14 year old Eric (not a child to him exactly, but squire age rather than knight age) as a criminal threat in the same way as he saw the Cobra, his own age (18, which was definitely very adult, Marius thought at the time). Eric wouldn’t have failed to consider consequences or failed to consider Marius as person rather than character, if he’d actually been 18. But by the time anyone knew better, a status quo was established, and habit is second nature and a stronger nature than the first.

Eric’s plight is horrific initially. But at the same time, Eric is extremely intelligent (both intellectually and emotionally) and able to both cover and play catch-up to this new life, and he can advise Rae with the benefit of his experience - but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t screw up massively when he first came into the book, or that he doesn’t still have many things to work through.

Similarly, Emer is used to Rahela who is quasi older sister and quasi mistress, while Rae is now acting younger. And all of them are dealing with a gross system in which men are seen as in their youthful prime when women the same age are getting long in the tooth and can be traded in for teenagers - so even two people who are the same age aren’t treated as if they’re the same age, if they’re different genders. Age stuff is crunchy!

Also, while Emer thinks of Lia as having all the power due to class, Lia looks on someone who was her glamorous older stepsister’s age mate and went off to the big city years ago rather differently. But then, are adulthood and childhood different worlds? Is being in different social classes being in different worlds?

Can we reach the different universes of other people is something I’m always asking, I think.

THIS IS SO LONG. I AM SO SORRY.

#long live evil #pride and prejudice #twilight #ageism #portal fantasy #the golden cobra #marius valerius #emer ni domitia #king octavian #Rae parilla #key of the cauldron #Lia felice #prime minister pio #lle spoilers

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spadesolace · 2 years ago

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POLAROID LOVE

pairings: nwjns minji x nmixx 8th member! reader x nwjns hanni

synopsis: y/n did not intend to join the kpop industry but after her brother had convinced her, she's taken the industry by storm. what happens when she unintentionally catches the attention and heart of two members of the rookie group, newjeans that's taking everyone by storm?

tags: idol x idol! reader, reader is related to sim jake, wlw, angst, fluff, idol au, friends to lovers, slow burn, crack, smau, love triangle, reader is just dumb and oblivious half of the time

warnings: strong language, drama, cyberbullying, overworking, izone disbandment,(will add more as we progress)

featuring: newjeans, nmixx, iz*one, le sserafim, straykids' bangchan and felix, enhypen's jake

status: started (01/30/23) - completed (09/02/2023)

updates: whenever i can

PROFILES: freaky fishy fishy | new juice | iz*gone | the fimmies | the aussies

CHAPTERS:

00. what did i do this time?

01. PRETTY GIRLS MAKE ME PANIC

02. brought to you by hybe

03. she's a fan of yours

04. chan's room

05. new jeans

06. fimmies help me pls

07. NEW FRIENDS

08. HYEIN THE LUCKY NSWER

BONUS 01: oh i-

09. Jake the bitch

10. THEY'RE REAL (written)

11. i'll take them, thank you

12. i don't understand simlish

13. call me a dungeon master

14. just smile and wave

15. she's built different

16. why didn't you confess?

BONUS 02: dinner with newjeans

17. simping hours: open

18. right here (half-written)

19. just the two of us?

20. one point for rin

21. hanging out with rin

22. planning stage

23. confession from a mother of four

24. she by dodie

25. cute

BONUS 03: its a date

26. the night after

27. yoona to the rescue?

28. you. me. date?

29. mama meeting

30. uwu & cringe

BONUS 04: safe haven

31. snorlax and grim

32. team minyn or hanyn

33. delusions and confrontations

34. game on (half-written)

35. time out (written)

36. the actual minyn date

BONUS 05: can i have this dance?

37. lowkey

38. would you be so kind

BONUS 06: falling

BONUS 07: dis-bitch

39. mother…

40. the announcement

BONUS 08: jealousy jealousy

41. shake it off

42. yoona best girl

43. nmixx & twice (half-written)

44. practice practice

45. talk it out (half-written)

46. friends? (half-written)

47. d-day

48. whatever happens (half-written)

49. you have my heart (half-written)

50. girlfriends? (half-written)

epilogue: one | two | three

bonus: the shade | absolutely smitten

taglist [CLOSED]:

@lesbianslovesminji @sserajeans @trsrina @invusblog @haerinstolemyhrt @txtbrainrot @ddenoudepression @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @lcv3lies @rd0265667 @somsomishy @dream-chasers-things @captivq @limbforalimb @dmndtears @buuhsworld @oshyci @ksnu @falling-intoo-deep @sserafimez @hyukasverse @forever-in-the-sky2 @cixl-writes @wolfimini @j-wyoung @jisooftme @justme-idle @myahwritesss @paranoxic @edamboon @iluvhanni1

#newjeans #newjeans imagines #newjeans x reader #kim minji newjeans #pham hanni #hanni x reader #newjeans hanni #wlw #newjeans smau #slow burn #angst #happy ending #love triangle #chaotic #polaroid love smau

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dollystuartwrites · 2 months ago

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Stray Gods - Chapter 49

Pairing: Gods!OT8 x !F!Reader Genre: romance, friends to lovers, polyamory, mystery, supernatural, angst, fluff, smut Wordcount: 5112 Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] [11] - [12] - [13] - [14] - [15] - [16] - [17] - [18] - [19] - [20] [21] - [22] - [23] - [24] - [25] - [26] - [27] - [28] - [29] - [30] [31] - [32] - [33] - [34] - [35] - [36] - [37] - [38] - [39] - [40] [41] - [42] - [43] - [44] - [45] - [46] - [47] - [48] - [49] - [?] MASTERLIST Summary: With no memory of who you were, you wake up in the woods, only to be found by eight unusually handsome men. With no information of the past, the guys decide to take you in and take care of you for the time being. But that time becomes years, and as time passes, you start to notice that there is something different about them... and something different about you... Warnings: angst, praise, thigh riding, kissing, fingering, overstimulation, lovebites, bad/miscommunication, low self-esteem, swearing, name-calling, dry humping, college, degradation, gods, special powers, vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m), mentions of contraception (condoms&thepill), injuries, mentions of death (but no character deaths), virgin!reader, teasing, orgasms, poly relationship, semi-public sex, daddy kink, strength kink, grinding, I've probably forgotten some, so let me know if I did and I will add more as the story progresses.

Taglist: @eastleighsblog @tangerminie @swittyregan @septicrebel @jiimout @zandra-42@julciaqwerty @vampcharxter @mercurezed @thatgirlangelb @cookiemonstermusic258 @stayconnecteed @bubblelixie @smilingtokki@hash2013 @juskz Want to be added or did I miss you? Just send me an ASK or DM

Lots of love and many thanks to my current beta’s from Wattpad: rocker7898 and sydneye2411. You guys made my writing so much better <3

'Hey, look at me,' Felix spoke. You looked over at him, your hands still fidgeting with the straps of your bag sitting on your lap.

Felix had insisted on taking you to school today, as Minho had already left, having to arrive early to be on time to prepare for the lessons he had to teach that day. Minho hadn't said much, and you were sure he was the only one who was as doubtful about the entire situation as you were. When Hyunjin had left your room, he had returned to Han, continuing to monitor him and relieving Felix from his post. You had gotten ready far too slowly, your head still going back and forth between believing and trusting in Hyunjin and the urge to run back into Han's room. By the time you were done, Minho had already left. You knew you had been slow on purpose, hoping that being unable to catch a ride with Minho would give you the excuse to stay home. Somewhere you suspected that that was why Minho hadn't announced his departure, nor given you a heads-up and final call like he usually did. You suspected he too would prefer it if you were to stay home with Han, even if it would hinder your academic success. But Han wouldn't have it. When Felix had left his room it seemed like Han had given him a mission of making sure you would get to school today. After checking your bag for the umpteenth time, pretending you weren't sure if you had packed your favorite pen, notebook, and charger, Felix was starting to lose his patience and urged you out of the house. For the entire drive to school, you sat beside him silently, fiddling with your bag nervously as you kept imagining Han's pale and sick face.

Felix gave you a kind smile.

'We've arrived,' he said simply. You looked out the window again, seeing the familiar building, with many people coming and going to and from the entrance.

'Right,' you said, quickly opening the door and jumping from your seat.

You heard the other car door open and close, and as you were about to take a step towards the school, Felix halted you. He rested his hands upon your shoulders and turned you to face him, hands not leaving you.

'He'll be alright by the time you get home,' Felix assured you, repeating Hyunjin's words.

'How do you know?' You asked, insecurity lacing your tone. Felix sighed.

'Trust Hyunjin. He knows what he's talking about. I know it's scary and all, one of us being sick for the first time, but I'm sure he is right. There is no doubt in my heart that his diagnosis is incorrect. So trust him,' Felix urged.

'I do but…' you began, hesitating for a moment, 'but how can he look like that, be so sick… just because of.. love… is it… it's… because of me, right?'

'Oh baby,' he said with a chuckle, taking you into his arms and hugging you tightly.

'None of this is your fault, and no one could've ever seen this coming. We only just found out too, even Hyunjin had a hard time placing his finger on it,' Felix said in a comforting tone.

'But how can he be that sick?' you pressed on worriedly. Felix let go of you, putting his hands on your shoulders once more and looking at you warmly.

'We might be gods, but we don't know everything, you know,' he said with a chuckle. 'Honestly, I don't know why he is as sick as he is, and why he is the only one,' Felix admitted truthfully, looking thoughtful, 'but I know illnesses and I know they can affect different beings in very different ways, even if they are the same species. Besides, it's what Hyunjin always says; the power love holds over all things is severely underestimated. I've seen many pets miraculously cured of diseases that I personally had diagnosed and pronounced terminal, just because of the love they got from their humans. Mind you, of course, that's not for every pet, and that doesn't mean they don't get enough love but-' he added, but seeing your face he quickly stopped and cleared his throat. 'Anyhow, what I was saying is that, as Jinnie always persists, love has more power than we realize and works in mysterious ways.' Felix ended.

'He will get better,' you said, stating it to convince yourself.

'He will get better,' Felix said definitely. 'And he is already getting better as a matter of fact. Just when you left I noticed his heartbeat seemed to be getting back to normal and even his color and scent seemed to be slowly returning to its original state,' Felix said seriously but with a smile.

You nodded.

'Now, no more dawdling because Han will give me an earful, as soon as his voice is recovered, if I do not get you to your next lesson on time,' he laughed. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit at his remark. He let go of your shoulders, and one of his hands took hold of your chin.

'Can I see your pretty smile one more time before you leave?' he asked sweetly. You smiled for him, a real smile and a bit of warmth seemed to return to your insides. 'That's my baby,' he grinned. He bent towards you, planting a soft kiss on your lips before withdrawing again. You could instantly feel yourself blushing. 'Just making sure I won't get sick as well,' he teased. You pouted at him and he winked, letting go of your face and waving you goodbye as you walked up to the school.

'WHYYYYYY are you not just addicted to your phone like the rest of us,' an irritated voice spoke. Before you could look around, you were being jumped, an arm around your neck pulling you into a headlock.

'Sera!' you said her name, laughing but trying to get free.

'No! I told you I would kill you when you'd get back, so get it girl,' she laughed, rubbing her hand over your hair and messing it up. You squealed and giggled, trying to get loose but she wouldn't let go until she was satisfied.

'There,' she said huffing as she let go of you, putting her hands on her hips and looking at your messed up hair proudly, 'totally killed your vibe.'

'I guess I had it coming,' you chuckled, trying to flatten your hair again with your hands.

'Yes, you did. And after my lecture yesterday, you still didn't react to my messages this morning,' Sera said, tutting and shaking her head like a disappointed parent.

'Oh, shit, Sera I'm sorry,' you said, quickly pulling out your phone and checking it. You indeed had quite a few unread messages. Sera sighed but smiled.

'It's fine,' she said, waving her hand dismissively. 'I'm just happy you're here and you're fine. Wanna have lunch then?' she asked, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the cafeteria. You nodded.

'Where's Adam? You asked her, looking around but not spotting his blonde hair anywhere.

'Class,' Sera said simply, pulling up her nose and shrugging.

The two of you made your way to the cafeteria, chatting about her weekend. By the time you got seated and started eating, the conversation slowly shifted to your weekend.

'So erm, how did your weekend end?' Sera asked, suddenly sounding apprehensive. You looked up, a feeling of suspicion instantly upon you.

'Why do you ask?' You said, slightly sharper than you had intended to. Sera looked away for a second. You could see her chewing the inside of her cheek thoughtfully for a second, an expression on her face that seemed almost doubtful.

'I…' she began, pausing for a moment, then hesitantly continuing as she straightened her back, 'I incidentally saw you arriving this morning. My class was boring and you just happened to be right outside of my window,' she added quickly, hesitating and pausing again. 'I saw you with some guy- a different one I mean,' she said meaningfully, 'Don't get me wrong,' she quickly added, putting her hands up. 'I mean, I just,' she said, her face suddenly becoming quite pink. 'I'm a curious person, okay?' she insisted, her cheeks blushing and nervously scooting over the bench. You could feel yourself holding your breath. 'It's just- I'm normally very good at reading people, but you… You're different. Good different though! Not like I think you're an alien or something,' she giggled nervously. You had never seen Sera like this before. You knew her to be a confident person, resolute. But you wouldn't be thrown off by her behavior, holding your mouth shut and keeping a face of steel. 'It's just, you're a bit unlike other girls our age you know. As I said, for one, you're not addicted to your phone and stuff,' she said, smiling awkwardly and pausing again. Then she suddenly sighed. 'Uhg okay, I'mma just come out with it,' she said suddenly. Your heart felt like it stopped.

'Are you poly?'

'Wh-What?' you asked, blinking.

'You know, polyamourous. In more than one relationship. Like multiple boyfriends,' she pressed on, looking eager now. You scanned her face. This was what she had known, what she had been asking about, hinting at, fishing for. It hadn't been about you, or your divinity, nor the boys or their powers. This was all.

You suddenly started to laugh, unable to help yourself. The apprehension, caution, and fear instantly slipped away from you. She could be trusted. It was safe. You knew. Your Goddess knew.

Sera looked at you uncomfortably, probably slightly startled by your burst of laughter and still waiting anxiously for you to respond.

'I'm sorry,' you chuckled, seeing her stressed face, 'I know what it means, it was just really unexpected that you asked,' you began.

'I'm so sorry,' Sera said quickly. 'I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, it's just, people and relationships really interest me and I might've watched just one too many dramas and-,' she rattled but you quickly cut her off.

'No Sera, it's fine,' you said as you stopped chuckling and gave her a reassuring smile. You were sure you could tell her. You could see her light now. See it was dim like the other humans, but pure and safe. 'Yes. Yes, you're right,' you answered her question.

Sera looked at you with big eyes and slowly a smug smile appeared on her face.

'I knew it! I swear I fucking knew it. Adam wouldn't listen to me. I mean he doesn't know, I didn't tell him, I was just fishing for information, but that boy can't take a hint,' she said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. 'But ever since I saw you with Mr. Hwang and then when you left with the other guy at that birthday party,' she said, giving you a meaningful look that told you she had known what you and Minho had been up to back then, 'and then the others. I mean I swear every single time was coincidental okay. It's not like I'm some weird creep who's spying on you, but it just turned out that way, honestly. I wasn't sure if I should say anything because you weren't saying anything and-' Sera babbled on. Clearly, she was completely in her element.

'Well, it is kind of an awkward topic to talk about I guess,' you said truthfully. She instantly shut her mouth and looked at you.

'Oh shit, sorry. You want me to shut up?' she asked quickly. You shook your head smiling.

'Nah, it's fine. Actually, I think it would be nice finally being able to talk to someone about it, to be honest,' you said truthfully.

'Oh thank god, good. Okay,' she said, bending over to you eagerly, 'gimme all the deets.'

'Well, erm, I don't know where to start,' you said, frowning, thinking.

'Okay, so I figured it's at least four or something right?' she said eagerly.

'Erm, eight actually,' you admitted.

'EIGHT?' she exclaimed loudly, her eyes growing big. You kicked her under the table.

'Shut it!' you hissed but giggled, 'I mean I'm fine with you knowing but I don't need the whole school to know.'

'Right, right, right, sorry,' she said, rubbing her painful shin but still looking eager. 'So I guess that means it's all of your roommates then, isn't it?' she asked. You nodded. Sera mouthed a silent "Wow".

'But eight? Really? Isn't that like,' she raised her eyebrows meaningfully and continued in a whisper, 'a lot of work.' You felt yourself blush and she wiggled her eyebrows, leaning back in her seat, your change of color apparently giving her enough of an answer.

'You know, good for you,' she said, putting her hand up in an okay sign and looking smug. 'I mean I can't even deal with one knucklehead now and then, but eight… Pfft kudos to you,' she chuckled.

'Don't you… find it weird?' you asked, feeling awkward yourself now as well. Sera raised her brows and this time it was her turn to laugh at your question.

'Honey, you're asking an adopted pansexual girl with an interracial lesbian immigrant couple as parents. Nothing is weird to me,' she shrugged.

It was hard to believe she really didn't think it was weird, but she seemed to be more curious than judgemental regarding the situation.

The rest of the break she spent bombarding you with eager questions about your relationship with the boys and the dynamics in the house.

By the time the bell rang for your next class, Sera wasn't done asking questions yet.

'I really have to go to class now,' you laughed as you saw Sera racking her brain for another question she could ask quickly before you'd go. Sera pouted.

'You know you can always text me, right?' you chuckled as you got up from your seat and gathered your belongings.

'It's not like you'd answer anyways,' Sera said sticking her tongue out at you playfully. You laughed and were just about to turn around when she grabbed your arm.

'Wait!' She said quickly, sounding eager.

'Wha-hat? I have to goooo,' you said impatiently as many others were leaving.

'Let's go on a double date!' Sera suggested enthusiastically.

'I-what?' you said, taken aback by her question.

'A double date. Or, wait, what do you call it when it's with multiple people? Okay never mind,' she said quickly when she saw your face. 'But please, let's do it. I swear it'll be fun! We can get to know each other, make friends,' she suggested. When she saw your doubtful face she continued. 'Come on, I bet you've never been able to go somewhere on a date with all of them. I promise we'll pick somewhere busy, that way you won't stand out too much.'

You hesitated. You had been to places with all of them, of course. But never really on a date…

'We could do the funfair! It's always super crowded and no one will notice, trust me. The weekend after next? Saturday at eight. We'll meet you at the entrance.'

Before you could object, Sera grabbed your hand and shook it before running off with the leaving masses, leaving you behind slightly bewildered.

You blinked a few times and then chuckled. Sera was unlike anyone you had ever met. But it was nice having a human friend with whom you could be more open and trusting. It'd be nice to feel normal for a bit.

Minho was already standing by the car, waiting to take you home from school. Seeing him from a distance made your heart pound faster. Not just because he always looked so dashing in his brown suit, gray hair, and glasses, but because you were a little scared. He had been sweet to you this morning like he always was, but you had failed him as a goddess. You know how much he treasured you and knew how much you being his goddess meant to him, and you were scared he'd be mad at you for what you had done, or more so the lack thereof. You also knew how much Han meant to him and what it would do to him to see Han so sickly. With all of these thoughts swirling in your head, you took a deep breath and walked up to him.

You were slightly surprised to see that the dark circles around his eyes seemed to have almost disappeared. He looked healthier somehow, even though he'd had a long day of working.

'Hi Lino,' you said with a small voice as you approached him. He gave you a smile and a curt nod, holding the door open for you as you got into the car, but he didn't say anything.

During most of the drive, he was silent, and your heart started to sink again, lower and lower with every silent minute that passed by.

You were just about to say something, anything to break the silence. An apology or any words that could comfort him, tell him you were sorry and would never forgive yourself for what you had done when he suddenly spoke.

'It's not your fault you know,' he said suddenly and softly. You looked over at him somewhat startled. This was the last thing you expected him to say.

'I-what?' you said, feeling dumbstruck.

'You know it's not your fault right?' Minho repeated. 'None of us could've ever seen this coming,' he elaborated. You were silent for a second.

'But it is my fault,' you whispered, looking down at your lap, your heart sinking once more. Minho clicked his tongue.

'If you really wanna blame yourself, go ahead, but know that we don't,' he said simply. 'Honestly, we blame ourselves for not realizing what a mess we are without you,' he added softly. You weren't sure how to respond. You felt quite sheepish, staring out of the window, looking at the streets you passed by. 'We should've known we can't be without you anymore... And we should've called you to come back,' he said, then suddenly he clicked his tongue angrily, smacking his hands irritably against the steering wheel. 'I should've never listened to him!' He said with a sudden intensity, his eyes straight on the road. 'I begged him to call you, but he wouldn't let me. I could barely convince him to let Felix check him out. I don't know how Felix managed to convince him to let Hyunjin check on him as well…' Minho said, grabbing the steering wheel hard until his knuckles went white. You looked at him in shock. You couldn't remember if you had ever seen him so angry. 'He should've just let me call you,' he repeated with clenched teeth. 'It would've never gotten as far as it had. I know he's fine now, but he looked like dog shit,' he grumbled. His anger seemed to die down and he sighed, putting on his blinker and taking a right turn.

You were surprised with Minho's anger, which seemed to be directed at himself. This was not what you expected. You suddenly realized that the look on his face was nothing but a mirror of your own feelings; disappointment, annoyance, and anger, all directed at himself. You wanted to help him, to comfort him, but how could you, as you had no way of stopping yourself from feeling the same way.

'He's doing better now?' you repeated with a small voice, a lame attempt at making him feel better even though you barely did.

'Yeah, he is,' Minho said with a nod. He sounded calm again. You could see him straightening his shoulders and letting out a quiet sigh, as if to breathe out his feelings, before he started speaking again. 'He called me during the break and he seems to be back to normal again,' he said.

'He called you?' you asked, feeling hurt that Han hadn't contacted you in any way.

'Yeah, video call. He looked quite normal again, so don't worry about it, okay? It really wasn't your fault,' Minho said once more. But his words simply made you feel shittier. The fact that Han hadn't contacted you broke your heart. Was he angry with you? But Minho said they didn't blame you, even though you did yourself. Why hadn't he called you? Why?

'Han?' You knocked on his door softly, but there was no response. You knocked again, calling louder this time. Still, no response. You sighed, withdrawing your hand from the door and turning around. But just when you were about to take another step, you changed your mind. You knew Han was in there. You were sure. And according to all the other guys, he was doing fine now, almost like nothing ever happened. And Minho had assured you he wasn't mad at you, although you were mad at yourself. But you knew your heart would not be at ease until you saw him.

You turned around to face the door again. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe that's why he hadn't answered. You could imagine he hadn't slept too well for several days and now that he was better, it might've finally caught up to him.

You weren't one to go into other's rooms if they weren't there. You never really snooped, nor entered without their permission. But this time you didn't care. You had to see him for yourself. You had to be sure he was doing alright.

Slowly and quietly you turned the handle, opening the door to peek inside.

Han was sitting on his bed, his back turned to you as he seemed to be staring out of the window.

'Hannie?' you said his name softly, scared to startle him. He turned his head towards your voice but stopped halfway, showing he was listening but not responding, nor looking at you.

You bit your lip and walked over to him, but as soon as you got close to him he turned his face away from you. You stopped in your tracks, hesitating for a moment. No, you need to talk to him. Pushing through your anxiety you went to sit next to him on the bed.

'Hannie?' you said, repeating his name in a steadier voice this time. He still didn't look at you. You needed to make contact. You could feel your inner Goddess, like she was tapping you on the shoulder, asking you to give her space. You took a deep breath, in and out, and opened your mind.

Although his light shone bright, there was a certain dimness to it. Carefully, you took his hand into yours, caressing it with your thumb.

'I am sorry, Hannie,' you spoke softly, 'for letting you down. For not being there, and not doing my duty properly as your goddess.'

Finally, he turned his face to yours. His green eyes looked at you incredulously.

'How could you say such a thing?' he whispered, shaking his head and frowning. He grabbed the hand that you had used to stroke his tightly with both of his hands. 'Don't you ever say that again,' he said almost angrily. 'Don't you know how it hurts us when you are hurting?' he spoke.

You gave him a sad smile, squeezing his hands for a moment. As Minho had said, he hadn't blamed you for a second.

Suddenly he let go of your hands and turned his face away from yours again.

'It's me…' he whispered suddenly. 'I am the problem… I am… weak.' He said the words painfully, clearly disgusted with himself. It broke your heart. Tears welled up in your eyes.

'Don't you ever say that again,' you repeated his words back to him, your voice trembling with the pain you felt for him.

Han simply huffed, his eyes still locked on the floor. 'You know it's true y/n,' he said bitterly. 'I am weak. I was the only one who got sick, the only one affected so ridiculously. None of the other boys were even close to… my state of being,'

'But they were all sick,' you stopped him before he could continue. 'They told me none of them were feeling right. Everyone was unwell in their own way. Maybe you just didn't see because-'

'-Because I was the sickest of them all?' Han interrupted you. He scoffed. 'Yeah, like I said, none of them were close to being as "lovesick" as I was. Clearly, I am the weakest of the bunch,' he said angrily. 'I mean, I guess I've always known it. I mean look at them, look at their cool powers. Lino being time itself, Chan taking care of souls, Seungmin making this planet liveable, Hyunjin making life worth living. I mean I could go on, but it's clear all their powers are way cooler and way more important than mine. I mean what do I do? I talk to plants. So what? Big deal. Nothing cool or sexy about it. I should just-'

'Han Jisung!' You said his name so loudly and suddenly that he jumped. He instantly turned his head to face you once more, looking at you with big watery green eyes. You had never used his first name with him. From day one he had always been "Han" by his own request or "Hannie" since it sounded like the pet name "Honey" which he enjoyed. 'I won't allow you to talk about yourself like that,' you said sternly. Han simply scowled and was about to look away again when you grabbed both of his hands tightly and continued talking.

'You are everything,' you said to him slowly in a lowered voice, the words now coming from your heart. A small crease appeared between his brows and you continued. 'You are every breath we inhale and exhale. You are the light that keeps us warm and the shade that shelters us. You are the water we drink and the blue skies that we see. You are life,' you said insistently and seriously. You could see Han's jaw tightening, a habit he adopted from Chan. 'You are all of the others, as they are you. And without you, they wouldn't and couldn't be.' Your voice almost turned into a whisper and you paused for a second. You knew he was listening. Not just him, but his aethereal self. You could see how his light responded to your words. But his pained expression and self-doubt weren't gone yet.

'Without you, I wouldn't be,' you whispered to him, softly squeezing his hands. His face started to relax somewhat now. The painful knot in your chest that seemed to mirror his own lessened, even though your watery eyes weren’t dry just yet.

'Hannie,' you said his name once more, his sweet name that you loved to speak so much. His lips quivered for a moment. 'I can still remember back when I wasn't aware yet… The first time I saw your gift…' you said, the words suddenly feeling so emotional that they were hard to speak. 'I remember seeing you, just through the crack of the door, seeing you make that beautiful flower bloom,' you pointed over your shoulder at the plant on his drawers next to the door. 'It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,' you whispered as a tear rolled down your face. Han looked at you, his brows slightly raised now, as his eyes were filling with tears too.

'You give life, Hannie,' you said, letting go of his hands and catching a tear on his cheek with your pinky finger. 'How can you forget that?'

'I-I haven't, I just-,' Han stammered as more tears fell from his face.

'You don't have to be cool or sexy. You don't have to be strong either,' you added. 'You just have to be you. You have to remember who you are, what you are. Don't let those human emotions get in your way of knowing how special you are,' you said, shaking your head.

Han nodded in response. The tears that were falling from his face seemed to contain the darkness that was covering his light. You looked into him, seeing his light shining brighter than ever as he softly smiled at you. You smiled back at him and sighed deeply. Your goddess retreated into the shadows once more, knowing that the job was done. You lean over to him, putting your forehead against his, noses aligned and touching. You felt yourself breathing in his scent, and the tears in your eyes finally seemed to dry.

'I've been such a fool, my love,' Han whispered. You smiled softly, your heads still touching. 'I let envy and frustration overtake me. You're right. I guess I forgot who I was there for a moment.'

You slowly withdrew your face from his, smiling at him and seeing him smile at you.

'It's okay Hannie, that's what I'm here for,' you said kindly to him.

'I know, but still, I was acting a little dramatic I guess,' Han said with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 'Having a human part of us sometimes is a little-' he spoke, but suddenly stopped. He turned his head away from you, looked at the door, and frowned. He blinked a few times, then turned his head again, looking at the wall that was separating his room from Minho's. Han raised an eyebrow.

'Han? What is happening?' You asked, feeling apprehensive. Han put up a hand to silence you as he stared at the wall for another second before he looked down at the floor. He scoffed for a moment and then suddenly started laughing.

'Han what-?' you asked again, getting kind of concerned now. But he wasn't listening.

'No way,' he whispered to himself, getting up from the bed, and, for a moment, totally seeming to forget you. He walked a few paces, still looking down, before stopping again and chuckling once more. 'No way!' he laughed before looking at you again with a wide grin.

Startled by his unexpected reaction, you pulled at your goddess for help, but you instantly felt that it would be no use as if you had used up all of your credits for the day. You got up too now.

'Han, what-?' you repeated taking a few steps before it suddenly dawned on you. Han still didn't respond but simply grinned at you. 'Oh,' you breathed. Han simply nodded, understanding that you understood.

WRITERS NOTE

Thank you all so much for your continuous support. I understand that you had to wait for a long time but I simply have too little time to write.

I try my best to write when I can, and your encouragement, kind words, and fun reactions really make me happy<3

However, I'd like to ask some of you to please understand that rushing or pushing me won't make things go faster and will only make me feel bad :(

I have been working on this series for over two years already, and I am currently working on Chapter 50 (!).

Although I really do love this story, it has been quite difficult, tiring, and time-consuming work (for me as well as for my lovely editors) at some times. I love writing a lot and I post this story for free on multiple platforms because I want everyone to be able to enjoy reading this for free as I too know all too well what it's like to have no money to spare for your hobby or favorite artist (life is expensive ya'll, I know that)

So please, if you enjoy my story, give it a vote or a nice comment, and trust that I will come back with a new chapter for you to love, even though it might take longer than you'd like (trust me, it takes me longer than I would like as well).

Please remember, that creativity cannot be forced or rushed.

Once again, thank you all so much for all the love, votes and comments, and trust that I will be back with more. I appreciate every single one of you <3

Lots of Love

Dolly

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zialltops · 1 year ago

Text

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: phew this chapter was hard to write because all i want it for them to kiss already. these two are so at each others throats that i cant WAIT to write that in the form of the devils tango. please let me know what you guys think, comments fuel my desire to write🤍

Masterlink

AO3 Link 🤍

Chapter 2: Northern Attitude

Three days of bad weather pass before Joel is able to get the truck out of the snow to drag your car out of the embankment—but he chooses not to anyway. He’s spent the last three days working and avoiding you, because he can’t keep his head from spouting off about how much you piss him off and how good you look doing it.

And piss him off, you do. The morning after your first night home, Joel was shoveling off the steps and the front driveway when you came out of the house in a pair of pants that look like they have been in your closet for years because god damn, they are tight. He doesn’t miss the look on your face when you find your way into the snow where he’s working. “Like my stupid fucking shoes? I wore them so I’d look nice when I saw my parents—thought there was some delicious cowboy here to impress. But now they are all I have to wear because some bullheaded asshole left my car on the side of the road with all of my belongings in it.”

Him, being the bullheaded asshole instead of the delicious cowboy. He’s fuming, if he wasn’t already panting, he’s sure there would be steam rolling out of his ears right about now. He can't stand you. Cant stand your cocky attitude and the way you hold your hands on your hip’s—those sexy little fucking—Joel! “Should have known better than to show up in the middle of winter in those damn heels. You did that to yourself. You should know the only thing you’re findin’ here is cow shit and snow.” You cross your arms and look over his shoulder. “Yeah—nothing but bullshit here.” He turns to find Tommy, his eyes on your figure in your stupidly tight outfit, he’d always been the bolder of the two. “Nice shoes…y’know, they do seem practical, you’re a few inches above the cold, y’know? Don’t ya think, Joel?” You smile at him and Joel sees red, that trading asshole. “Y’know, I was still gonna pull you out, bullheaded asshole here was the one who insisted we leave you.”

If Joel was a better man, he’d tell his brother to fuck off—but he’s not, so he socks him in the mouth and gives him a nasty bruise and a split lip. Both of you hightail it away from the driveway and Joel gets back to his shoveling.

Since that day, it’s been a non-stop onslaught of demeaning remarks. You sneer at him when you pass him in the halls, so he sticks to the hunting cabin he and Tommy occupy for a whole day. When he comes in for supper, you sneer at him again. “What, do you just hide out all day, doing jack shit?” He started this, he knows that, and there isn’t much he can do since he left you for dead on the side of the road a few days ago. He huffs at you when he sits down across from you while everyone else gets their plates in the kitchen. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and an aggravated shout. “I’ve been taking care of the cattle, what the hell have you been doing all day, huh? With that big fancy degree? Hid in the house all day and do your nails?” The nails in question are a sharp blue color, a homage to the crisp skies as the sun sets amongst the gloomy clouds, radiating dark indigo across the plains. His stomach curls when his brain supplies the image of them wrapped around his cock—both your little hands, manicured and soft and—son of a—“Actually, I think I forgot to check the fences. Miss Lou, do you mind if I pack this up to go?” He did forget, and he should do that, but it could have waited another day. He really needs a reason to get away from your accusing eyes right now, away from the way you unwillingly make him feel ridged all over.

He checks all the fences on the half mile walk to the hunting cabin, eats his supper at the sad little table and tries (he fucking tries, okay?) to keep his hands off himself. It aches, aches when he gets hard, like a damn weight between his legs that makes him feel dizzy from lack of blood in his poor muddled brain. He gets crazy—can't stand the thought of another person having so much control over his senses that he can't control his own bodily functions. He hates that you’ve weaseled your way in to his weaknesses—pretty eyes, smarter than him, hard to get with an attitude. It pisses him off so bad that his body reacts before his mind can gain clarity enough to tell himself no. But how can he, when all he can think about is what this is doing to him.

He cant stop thinking about how much of a bitch you are, about the type of men you probably pulled while off in collage and how you expected some kind of Adonis and what you got was just Joel. Your disappointment in his mere existence does nothing to flag how hard he is when he finally gets his hands in his pants. It should be alarming how fast he’s got himself on the edge on the image of you glaring him down, blackmailing him just so he can be your own personal verbal punching bag.

What the fuck is wrong with him, that being treated like garbage gets him so worked up. Is it because he knows it's something he'll never have? Like nothing else in the world can, you’ve got him hot and stiff in his large hand, after three days of knowing you, his head tipped back against his pillow and his eternal gratefulness that Tommy is still eating supper at the main house. At least he wont have to witness the way Joel’s resolve goes down the drain when he thinks about those pretty eyes, those nimble fingers and that bratty little attitude. He cums when he thinks about your stupid fucking shoes and how angry you are at him that you’re stuck wearing them.

Tomorrow, he’ll tell you he still cant get your car out, even if all the fucking snow melts, just so he can watch you walk around in them for a little longer, so he can hate you a little bit more. Maybe his distaste will bleed out the want, but Joel has never been that lucky.

———

It’s damn late by the time Tommy makes it home—or maybe it’s not, but Joel's guilty hand found the neck of a bottle a few moments after washing it clean, so he’s completely lost track of time. Drowning his troubles was the best thing he could come up with, so he tipped the bottle back until it was empty and his head felt like it was in a fish bowl.

The door throws open when he’s leaned all the way back in a chair at the little dining table, his bottle sitting empty in front of him and his mind reeling. “Close the damn door, it’s freezing!” He doesn’t open his eyes, because he’s got the spins and the last thing he wants to do right now is throw up.

“Aint me.” He hears Tommy’s voice somewhere in the living room and he finally peeks an eye open and glances towards the door.

“You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?” It’s you, standing in the doorway and letting in all the cold residing outside of these walls. Joel attempts to lean forward, but his weight wobbles and the chair falls backwards on the hardwood. “This is why this ranch doesn’t make any profit. You spend your days drunk off your ass, don’t you?” Her tone is so accusing and snappy, if Joel had half a mind he would pull himself off this floor and give her a piece of it.

“S’the end of the day, I’m not workin’, ‘n I can do whatever I want.” He pulls himself up using the table and he stand there for a moment, trying to let his head catch up with the rest of his body. “I came down here to tell you I want my car out tomorrow morning first thing. But, by the looks of it you wont be good for a damn thing in the morning.”

He groans and walks over to the door on wobbly legs, his vision is blurry but the drunk part of his brain supplies that you walked all the way here with Tommy just to bark orders at him. So, Tommy is definitely a fucking traitor, getting cozy with you when he knows how irritating Joel finds you to be. Even if you look damn good with those wind bitten red cheeks that would look so good hallowed out around his—c’mon, Joel. “I’ll be up before you, smartass. I have livestock to feed, ‘sides, I told you I'd pull it out when I could. Snow’s still too thick.” Joel uses the door frame to hold him up while you look him over from the porch. “I wasn’t asking you to pull it out, Im telling you.” Telling him? Like he’s not his own goddamned person, who makes decisions around here of his own? Hank asked him over a year ago to manage the ranch on his own—he’s been the one calling the shots here for some time, so what gives you the right to stand on his porch and tell him what he’s going to do?

“You might be the all reining princess in their eyes, but do not push me, Honey. I’m not the one to fuck with,” your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest like that might somehow make him second guess his boldness. You take a few steps closer and puff your chest out, point your nose up at him with a hard glare. “What are you going to do about it, huh? Not a damn thing.” Actually, one thing does come to mind and it takes everything in Joels power not to grab you by your hair and bend you over the back of the couch, show you exactly what he’s going to do about it.

Instead, he stands there in the frigid air, looking down at you like a pissed off little mouse staring down an alley cat, so fucking brave that he questions if he’s an alley cat at all. “When you can run this ranch by yourself, then you can look down your nose at me, but until then, you’re going to need some taller stupid fucking shoes.” He wouldn’t have the balls to say these things to you if not for the whiskey burning through his veins. Actually, he’s been pretty weary of telling you off, because the last thing he needs is you telling your parents, who obviously would believe you over him. But right now? Fresh off half a bottle and a mind numbing orgasm? He has all the courage in the world.

“I want my car out. I want my things and my clothes. You have until tomorrow night, or my parents can find new ranch hands.” He scoffs and his anxiety only bubbles up a little bit—he’ll pay for it tomorrow, but right now he’s pissed. “Well you better hurry back there and get on it. I’ll tell ya what—I’ll even help you hang up the flyers, hows that sound?” Your face is beat red in an attempt to contain your anger, your eyebrows are drawn together in the kind of pout that makes Joel chub up in his sleep pants. He’d rather sleep out in the snow than to have you see the way your attempt at aggravation works him up, so he starts to close the door on himself. “Better get to it, unless you want to be the one up at four thirty to feed.” He closes the door, turns his body and lets himself slump against the wood. His palm finds the front of his pants and he pushes, attempting to quell the sudden rush of blood that makes his head spin more than the alcohol in his system. “Damn…she’s gettin’ to you, huh?”

It’s Tommy’s obnoxious fucking voice in his head, standing near the hallway to the two small bedrooms. “Fuck off, Tommy, you know how it is for me.” The younger man laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm just sayin’, it’s kind of funny. Nobody gets under your skin like that. Does fightin’ really do it for you?” His voice is dripping with amusement and Joel wants to punch him again. “It ain’t the fightin’.” Tommy rolls his eyes when Joel reaches into his pants to adjust the discomfort. “Oh, thats right. Your shitty attitude comes sometime after she gets your big ol’—“ Joel growls at him, ”Tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to drag you out in the snow and beat your ass.”

It does the trick, because Tommy knows Joel isn’t kidding, he’s always been the stronger of the two, the one who’s always put Tommy in his place and he’s never been afraid to sock him square in his mouth when he runs it like he is now. “You know it bothers me when I can't control it. I can’t hide it. And she just—she—she’s one of them girls you know? The one’s that you don’t stand a chance with but they rub it in your face anyways and I can’t fucking stand it. It’s embarrassin’.”

He leans away from the door and makes his way over to the couch. When he plops down, his head finds his hands and he drags his calloused fingers through his curly, wind whipped locks. “What if you did stand a chance? Been a really long time since you’ve let yourself have anything.” Tommy finds the seat beside him and their heated argument shifts into a tender conversation, one brother to another, one man to his best friend in the whole world. “Ain’t about what I can have, tom, she’s Hanks daughter and I’m double her age, at least. This,” he gestures to himself vaguely. “This is the last thing a girl like her wants to get themselves tied up in. Can’t—one and done it like you can. Takes some…workin’ up to.”

Tommy pushes his shoulder with a small snort. “Always wondered how you got that thing in anyone.” He hasn’t wondered—he’s asked for years, and Joel being the closed off man he is, never had the heart to spill his bed-mates secrets. But there hasn’t been anyone for years, certainly not someone like you who can get him going faster than anyone he’s ever met. “Just—lots of…stretching. Things I can't do during a tumble in the hay, alright? And not everyone wants to deal with that—fuck know’s I don’t.”

Deal with the rejection of someone seeing him naked and kindly (or not so kindly) telling him that they aren’t interested anymore, deal with the look of shock women give him when he’s pressed up against them—when they feel it. He’s tired of it—so he doesn’t try anymore. Having you at his doorstep, flooring that desire in him? He can't deal with that. “I always thought it would be kind of an appeal to women, don’t they like that? I mean, I didn’t get your genes but I’m not doin’ too bad, they seem to like it.” Not doing too bad? To be normal, lead a normal life where he doesn’t have to bring anxieties to a moment he should only bring pleasure? “It ain’t all puppies and rainbows, man…nine times out of ten were good and they’re into it until I get my pants off. Then they hightail it out of there before I even have a chance to explain myself.”

It’s an embarrassing conversation to have with your brother, but Joel is grateful that he at least has someone he can talk about this with, above all else. The years he’s struggled, the supposed highs that only led to disappointment. It's been one minuscule moment of rejection after another, and he’s not asking for a lot, just to feel what everyone else gets to feel—normal, wanted, less like a freak and more like something to be desired. All for something he can’t change about himself, because believe him he wants to.

“I’m sorry man…I can’t relate, but I know how hard it is for you. One day, some crazy bitch is going to love your…terrifying dick.” He snorts loudly and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “Today ain’t the day, but thanks, Tom…” his head is still spinning and if he doesn’t go to bed soon, he won't make it out to feed before the sun hits the horizon. Tommy heads to his room, but Joel finds a blanket and curls up on the couch with a trash can at his side—just incase he needs to throw up before morning comes and he sobers up.

———

He does make it out to feed. It takes him an hour to get a hundred and fifty heads of cattle fed—he can’t wait till spring when they can be turned out to pasture, when half of them are sold off and the breeding season restarts. The cold, stand still winters drive him crazy on every ranch he’s ever worked, but this one more than most, because the cold is bone deep and there's you now, to drive him crazy in every possible direction.

When he’s done with the cattle, he takes inventory of the feed room, make’s a list to take with himself to town when the roads are cleared, then makes his way over to the stable. If there is one thing he can find solitude in, it’s snorting, fussing, grouchy ass horses early in the morning. They’ll kick at the stalls until he’s filled their feeders, snort cold air at him like they don’t want his company—he finds a lot of himself in the equine’s, misunderstood unless you get to know them like he has. He finds that his favorite place to be is in a saddle, pushing cattle through spring summer and fall, just him and them and all the trust in each other they have to offer.

Once they are fed, he finds his tack bucket and pulls open the stall to a young mare they’d bought last summer. She was ready to break this spring, but Hank had all but given up on the Morgan. So much so that he’d handed Joel her bridle one morning and told him “if you can get through to her, she’s all yours, son.”

She wasn’t a big horse, compared to others over her breed, but she had an untamable mane and tail that Joel has to keep braided or it becomes a rat's nest. She’s all over the place, spooky with a fear of water that Joel can't seem to help her get over. For such a pretty little Palomino, she sure has a lot of fight in her.

“Hey, pissy girl.” He hums when she flicks her tail at him, pulling her head out of her feeder just long enough to look back at him. He’s been the only person she lets in the stall since they got her, the only person who can give her a good brush down and stand behind her without getting a hoof to the chest. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? I had stuff to do before I could bring you guys breakfast. Besides, you’re gettin’ fat.” He pats her on her flank, watches dust come up under his hand. He starts brushing her down when he hears the stable doors come open. He knows it's not Tommy, because he’s in the north field checking on the heifers who are getting ready to calf. They still have a few more weeks, but it's good to keep track in the middle of the kind of storms they’ve been getting. The last thing they need is losing a calf to this kind of cold.

“Joel? You in here?” It’s Hanks booming voice in the desolate stable. “Yeah, I’m in here Hank!” He sets down the brush and steps out of the stall because he knows Hank won't come in it. “I was tryin’ to find you before my daughter did. She been through here yet?” His stomach drops and curls—did she tell him? About the argument they had on his porch last night? That he was drunk off his ass drowning his emotions like he always has? “I don’t know what she might have…told you, but it was at home—the cows were good, animals fed, I wasn’t—“ Hank makes a face and shakes his head. “Son, I ain’t mad at you for nothin’. I told her you’re allowed to have a few drinks when you’re done with your work. She can be very…aggravating, if anyone knows that it's me. I just wanted to apologize before she comes in a raging ball of fire because shes embarrassed about her shoes.”

Embarrassed? She’s embarrassed about walking around in those boots that make her ass look like it was sculpted by gods? Those damn shoes that can get him hard in an instant? “She’s embarrassed about them?”

Hank cracks a soft smile and puts his hands on his hips. “Most of that fire comes from a hurt place. She's all bark and no bite—“ Joel scoffs. “She just about bit my head off last night. I might have said some things I shouldn’t have.” Hank has always been understanding and kind the entire time Joel has known him. “I know, we talked about it. She said I need new ranch hands and I told her I don’t trust anyone to run this ranch but you. Don’t worry, I won't let her run you off. I really thought college would set her straight, but she’s still got that stubborn attitude of hers. Just—keep yourself busy and she’ll give up eventually. Don’t be afraid to defend yourself, either. I’m not going to get mad at you for standing up to her.”

Its more of a relief than he thought it would be to hear Hank stick up for him. You must have ran home to tattle on him, but knowing Hank has his back eases the anxiousness built up in him from the night before. “Anyways…when you see her, maybe Tommy can take her to get her things until we can get her car out, so she can get off of everyones back.” It’s going to have to be Tommy—there's no way in hell Joel can handle being in a car with her by himself with his current situation. “Absolutely, thank you Hank.” The man heads out the door with a genuine smile. “Don’t be too late for breakfast! Louise made fresh jam.”

Breakfast sounds like a dream to his empty stomach, so he gets back to the task at hand so he can spare himself a few minutes of downtime to eat before he gets back to work. He steps back into the stall, runs his hand across the top of his horse's back and sighs. “Maybe I should cut her some slack, huh Cersei? You’re kind of a bitch, but you’re still my favorite girl.” The horse nickers at him, flicks her tail and waits patiently for him to get back to brushing out her winter coat.

———

It’s breakfast when he finally sets eyes on you again, but you aren’t in those damn shoes—you’re barefoot like that's somehow any better. You’re barefoot in what looks like an old pair of your pajamas, like you just rolled out of bed when it’s already eight in the morning. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You sneer at him a little when he sits down across from you with his plate. Tommy hasn’t made it inside yet and Hank and Louise are in the living-room after they’ve already finished eating.

“I’ve been up for hours, what were you doing? Cant learn to manage a ranch if you sleep until eight in the morning.” Joel feels like he has the upper hand, and based on the look on your face, you know it too. “That’s what I have you for, to do all the grunt shit I don’t want to. I slept like a baby.” Joel on the other hand tossed and turned all night, willing away his morning wood for hours until he finally gave in and wrapped his hand around himself in the dark of his room under his soft quilt, where your prying eyes couldn’t reach.

It’s the only damn thing keeping him from chubbing up in his jeans, looking at you across the table in a pair of sleep shorts that ride up and leave little to his imagination. He thinks about how easy it would be to pull them aside and slip his fingers through your lips—if he would be able to get you wet. It’s enough to get him excited, so he tries to find a way out before it becomes too big of a problem.

“Where are you going?” He looks down at his plate, devising a plan to leave with it, so he can at least finish his breakfast. “Uhm…I have a lot to do today, figured I would get back to it while the day is young.” You push your chair back and stand as well, Joel’s eyes must have a mind of their own because they track up your bare thighs to the bottom of your shorts that have ridden up so much the fabric is pulled tight along the outline of your center—goddamn he can fucking see your pussy. He makes a sharp sound, choking on the spit building up in his mouth as it waters.

“You aren’t doing anything until you get my car out, you hear me? I’m not walking around another second like this.” You gesture to yourself—Joel couldn’t agree more. You need to wear clothes that fit you if he wants to keep his dick to himself. “Tommy is going to take you, he’ll be in soon.” You shake your head at him with a huff. “No, I don’t want Tommy taking me, he’s not the one responsible for leaving my car in the snow. You are getting my car out.”

He wants to argue some more, but arguing with you makes him horny and the last thing he needs is to be that worked up in a car with you for an extended period of time.

“Fuck—alright, fine—give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you at the truck.”

It’s a shit ass excuse to run back to the cabin and spend ten minutes jacking off as fast as he can fucking manage so he can control himself in the truck. It’s a futile attempt to control the way Hanks spitfire of a daughter makes him hotter than the surface of the sun.

You are going to be the death of him.

#cowboy joel miller #cowboy joel #cowboy au #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou #enemies to lovers #set in Wyoming #dbf joel miller

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justagalwhowrites · 7 months ago

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What was lost...

Joel can't seem to shake you, even when he knows you're dead and gone. A canon Lavender one shot set in between chapters 8 and 9, a few months before Joel and Tommy arrive in Boston.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

Length: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst. This is pure angst, I'm sorry. Imagined canon-typical violence. Mention of sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

A/N: I got this idea from an anonymous ask when I wrote about wanting to write Joel with a dead reader and they suggested writing Joel when he thought Doc was dead. SHE IS NOT REALLY DEAD, OK? Joel thinks she's dead. She's not dead. Doc is fine. She's in Boston calling QZs looking for Joel, working at the school and the clinic, and being codependent with Andrew. It's OK. I promise.

July 2008

I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.

Joel woke with a start.

It was still dark, the moon full and high, and for half a glorious second, he thought it was you asleep against him. That the two of you were camping with Sarah and you would sense him in your sleep and reach back to put a hand at his waist and tug him closer.

He asked you once if you knew you did that, that when he woke and sat up in the night that you would reach for him until you found him and pull him back to you where he belonged, always with a little satisfied sigh. As though him being close was all you needed in the world, even when you were unconscious.

You’d laughed when he asked, tucking your chin like you wanted to hide from it.

“God, I’m sorry!” You said as you caught your breath. “I had no idea I did that! I promise, I won’t hunt you down in my sleep if you pull away from me…”

Joel had laughed a little, too.

“Don’t apologize,” he’d said. “Like it when you keep me in line.”

“Good,” you smiled, teasing and sitting up a little straighter. “You’d better.”

But it wasn’t you, of course. It hadn’t been you for five years. Five years to the goddamn day.

Joel wished he’d lose track of the fucking date but he couldn’t seem to. Every time he seemed to get close, they’d have to do something like coordinate a raid on a FEDRA caravan and he’d be set back on track, his brain always keeping count.

He wanted to forget his birthday the most. If there was any mercy left in the world, he’d have never seen another one after 36 but here he was, closing in on 41 and still marking time.

He wished he could forget Sarah’s birthday, too. And yours.

But, strangely, July 18 was the second hardest day for him. It was the last day the three of you were together. The last time he’d heard your voice right beside him, the last time he’d held you, the last time he had nuzzled into your hair and your skin and breathed in the lavender scent of you.

The body next to him didn’t smell like lavender. She didn’t fit against his body like you did, either. She didn’t sound like you or taste like you or feel like you. But she was close and warm and wanted him and he’d given in. He almost always did. Because what they offered wasn’t sex, not really. It was a chance to forget, for a moment. If she looked like you, it was a chance to pretend, too.

This one didn’t look much like you, though. He’d closed his eyes during because it didn’t seem to matter that you’d been dead for years, it still felt wrong to be with anyone besides you. It didn’t make much difference. She didn’t feel like you. He’d pulled out and finished with his hand, thinking about how you felt that day five years ago in the water.

“Everything OK?” The woman beside him sounded groggy.

He couldn’t remember her name.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “Just takin’ over the watch. Go back to sleep.”

She just shrugged and settled on the ground again as Joel worked his way through the woods, finding Tommy walking the perimeter of where they’d stopped for the night.

“You got another two hours to sleep,” Tommy said, frowning in the moonlight.

“I’m awake,” Joel said. “May as well take over.”

Tommy gave him a look for a moment before he sighed.

“S’long as you’re OK,” he said, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Should be good for a while, just did a sweep.”

Joel just gave him a nod and Tommy made his way back to camp as Joel settled into a notch in some roots, his back resting against the trunk of a tree.

“She’s not me, you know.”

Your voice was so close beside him it would have made him jump if it were any other sound. But it was you.

He was used to this by now, the way you haunted him on days like this.

He wasn’t sure why you’d hung on in ways Sarah hadn’t. Maybe because he knew what happened to her, knew where her body had gone cold.

He’d spent so much time trying to drown out that memory - to shove it away, suffocate it, anything to keep it from taking over - that he thought he might have pushed all of her aside with it. He didn’t hear her voice as often anymore, didn’t picture her there next to him either.

You were another story. His mind seemed to enjoy torturing him when it came to you. He’d pictured your death so many times now, the imagined memory of it finding him in his sleep on so many nights.

Tonight had been one of those nights. This time, you’d died at the hands of a man like him. You had your backpack on, the one Joel had told you to pack, and you were walking where he’d told you to go. He could see you so clearly, your hair in braids with ribbons on the ends and your cheeks with smears of dirt like you sometimes got when camping. You’d tried to beg for your pack because Joel had told you it was important and then you tried to beg for your life because he’d told you that was important, too.

It hadn’t worked.

You’d been in the man’s grip, his knife at your throat and your eyes found Joel’s and you said the same thing to him you always did before you died at the hands of whatever monster he’d left you to suffer:

I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.

“Don’t expect her to be you,” Joel said quietly, refusing to look at the ghost beside him. He didn’t need to. He knew what you’d look like, down to the jeans you were wearing and how many buttons were done up on your shirt. You always came to him in the form you’d been in the last time he’d seen you, when you waved to him as you passed through airport security on your way back to New York five years ago today.

“I wonder why you’re always let down then,” you sounded almost smug. It didn’t sound right on your voice. You were so rarely smug. He’d made you mean in death.

“Does it matter?” He asked.

“I guess not,” you said. “Just thought you’d have found something better to do by now. It’s been five years, Joel.”

He turned to look at you then. You were sitting close enough to him that, if you were real, he would feel the heat of you there.

But there was no warmth to be found in a ghost.

“Know how long it’s been,” he said gruffly.

“Well, you probably deserve to torture yourself a little,” you sighed, no longer looking at him and out at the forest instead. “It’s your fault I died the way I did, you know.”

That’s how he knew it was all in his head. You’d never say that to him.

Even if it was true.

“I know.”

He sat in silence for a few minutes, refusing to look at you, speak to you even though he sometimes wondered if falling into his delusions would be the best he could hope for in this life. Nothing else would measure up to you. He knew that. He would, for the rest of his life, regret not being beside you when the world ended. He would, for the rest of his life, compare every woman he ever met to you. He would, for the rest of his life, wish for something he could never have because he’d done nothing but fucking fail the only people in the world who mattered. Now, you were both out of reach.

“I miss you, you know,” you said eventually, quietly. “I missed you when I died, too.”

Joel didn’t say anything. He just clenched his jaw.

“I was alone,” you said. “I was scared. You know how I got panic attacks, imagine how bad it would have been then…”

“Stop.”

“How I would have looked for you…”

“Stop it.”

“How I would have been worried about you, even as they killed me I would have been worrying for you…”

“SHUT UP!”

He yelled it, finally looking at you again. But you weren’t what he expected. At least, not in how you were looking at him.

So often when he pictured you now, when you spoke to him like this - when he was sleep deprived but couldn’t rest and was in desperate need of some kind of solace - there was an almost vicious look on your face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you look like that when you were alive, it was an expression entirely of his mind’s invention. You had never been cruel or even really aggressive in life but he couldn’t think of you without it. It hurt too much to see you kind.

But you looked earnest and sad now, so like the real you, like he was worthy of your pity for the first time in five years. It was like his heart beat for the first time since he’d held his daughter’s body.

“You never even looked for me, Joel,” you said softly. “I could have made it, you know.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t say that. Don’t put that thought in me, don’t…”

“I could have. You can’t know, not really. Why did you give up on me? Why didn’t you come find me? Save me?”

“How would you have lived?” He asked, meaning to sound angry but he couldn’t. “How would you have fucking made it through that? What was I supposed to find? What was I supposed to save?”

You just shrugged.

“If you really think I’m gone, why didn’t you join me? Join her?”

He looked straight ahead.

“I tried.”

“You flinched.”

He hung his head, clenched his jaw. Yes, he’d failed at that, too.

“Is this really how you’re going to spend your life, Joel?” You sounded like you. He could almost feel the gentle brush of your fingers on his neck. He still knew your touch so well, he still compared every woman he ever felt to that touch. “Hurting people and killing people and suffering yourself? Do you think this is what I would want for you?”

He looked to the side, as far from you as he could without leaving you.

“You could try something else,” you said after a moment.

He looked back to you again. You were still so beautiful. Even dead, you were beautiful.

“Try what?” He asked. “What other fuckin’ options do I have?”

“You could go to a QZ,” you shrugged. “Try to be a person again. Have a life.”

He scoffed.

“What’s the point?”

“What’s the point of any of it?” You asked. “You flinched, Joel. There must be a reason for it. Do you really think you’re going to find it out here, like this? Become yourself again, become the man I loved so much that I begged him to stay, even when he told me I wasn’t worth staying for. I know you can.”

Joel thought for a moment.

What if you were right? What if there was still some kind of meaning to this fucked up world he was trapped in? It didn’t seem possible, not really. But you were impossible, too. You’d been impossible before the world ended and yet you’d existed. You had existed and you had chosen him.

“You loved me once,” you said softly.

“I still love you,” he said. “Always will.”

“Then try. For me. OK?”

You were looking at him, so full of hope and love that he couldn’t say no. He could never say no, not to you.

He took a deep breath.

“OK.”

You smiled and you were beautiful, still so beautiful.

“Thank you,” you said before you took a deep breath and turned your face toward the full moon like you were basking in the sun. “I think it’s time for me to go. But I’ll see you soon.”

He huffed, cynical, looking in front of again.

“Sure you’ll be back when I’m too tired to think straight,” he said.

“I’m sure I will,” he heard the smile in your voice. “But who knows? Maybe you won’t need me anymore, not once you find yourself again.”

He looked at you, frowning.

“What…”

“Take care of yourself for me,” you leaned in so close, close enough that, if you were real, he would feel the brush of your lips on his and smell the lavender of your shampoo. “I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.”

You were gone before he had a chance to respond, nothing but air and silence, the echo of a ghost in your wake.

He sighed and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to think. Maybe a QZ wasn’t a terrible idea. They’d heard some halfway decent things about Boston lately. If they started heading that way now, they could be there before the snow flies.

And Boston, at least, was a new city. A place he’d never been, where there were no ghosts to haunt him. It was a good a place as any to try to become a person again. It was a good a place as any to try to move past you.

Joel settled in to his watch, deciding to talk to Tommy in the morning. He’d be on board. He always was, when Joel made up his mind.

And who knows, maybe he would find something in Boston worth flinching for.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #angst #lavenderversary

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worldunbent · 2 months ago

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chapter notes - natori shuuichi

a compilation of all of midorikawa's chapter notes concerning natori (as of volume 29)

all are from the official viz releases, translated by lillian olsen.

Chapter 7 - He Can See For the first time, Natsume meets someone else who can see yokai too. I was pretty nervous because I was breaking the established rule that only Reiko and Takashi Natsume were different. Natsume kept running away from yokai, but I made Natori into an expert who kept proactively learning about yokai. I wanted to draw someone who indentured yokai even though he doesn't like them. I wanted his mark to look a little like a human figure upon closer inspection. Natori doesn't like Natsume's hypocrisy, and Natsume doesn't like how Natori doesn't bother to explain his actions and makes himself out to be worse than he really is. I feel like Natsume finally realized how difficult it is for people to understand each other, no matter how similar or different they are.

Chapter 11 - The Meeting of Exorcists l enjoyed being able to do another story with Mr. Natori. I have an easy time with plots that advance by things happening, but there isn't as much emotional content, so l was nervous about reader reaction. But they seemed to enjoy it because it was unusual. Natsume is surprised that there are so many others who can see yokai, but he can't even tell yokai and humans apart, so most of the crowd he saw were yokai. And I hadn't drawn a human woman (Ms. Nanase) in a while. There should be lots of things Natsume can learn from Natori that wil make life easier, but it's an interesting question whether those lessons will alter his relationship with yokai. Will he be able to come to an understanding with people who share the same abilities? I was happy to reveal a little more about Reiko, but the difficulty is that focusing on her story would disrupt the episodic nature of the series.

Chapter 14 - Natsume Goes to the Hot Springs Natsume went on his first overnight trip. I wanted to try all sorts of things since Natori was making a repeat appearance, but then I was given the chance to have Natsume be the first manga in that month's issue. Since it's an important slot, l aimed for a story suitable for first-time readers. The two of them have gotten so used to lying with smiles on their faces, but they’re finally realizing that there's something inherently wrong with that. Natori is good at giving advice, but not comfort. At first, l used to feel oddly sad when I was drawing stories about Natsume and Nyanko Sensei, but these days I feel that way with Natsume and Natori. Maybe that means they're starting to understand each other.

Chapters 20 - 22 - Takashi's Friend Natori gets a thankless role, but I don't want to draw just kindness all the time, so he's very useful. When two awkward, clumsy people get together, things might not always end well, but I like such people anyway. It was fun to draw Taki again, and a child like Kai.

Chapters 23 - 26 - Inhuman Thing I didn't have a chance to write a story about Matoba until now due to page constraints or manga cycling issues in the magazine. I had fun when I finally got around to it. Matoba's appearance means Natori's hardships become more obvious. Natori settled upon his current philosophy after a lot of reflection. But then he sees Natsume wrestling with the same choices and slogging through the same place he used to be, and it's both amusing and frustrating at the same time for him. Natsume might realize this and not be able to presume so much on his kindness. Natsume and Natori are left with a problem, so l hope to take my time drawing them dealing with it.

Chapters 39 - 41 - The Harvest Festival The idea was to have Natsume and Natori get asked to do conflicting sides of the same job by yokai and humans, respectively. But when you give these two the same objective, they somehow hesitate, to see how the other makes a move, and agonize over whether they’re doing the right thing. They really shouldn’t be so alike, but it’s like they’re staring into a mirror. This is how they struggle for a solution, while Nyanko Sensei and Hîragi sigh in the background, I’m sure. They take pity upon each other that they have few friends. They want to remain friends and equals even when their opinions differ, and yet they have a strange inferiority complex towards each other.

Chapters 49 - 51 - Beyond the Glass Tanuma wants to help and tries to help, but he can’t. The more he tries to take action, the more he comes up against this wall. Natsume gradually realizes that while he wants to talk to Tanuma, it also puts him in a dilemma. Seeing this, Natori wants to say, “I told you so,” but he hopes that Natsume will be able to succeed where he failed. I was also excited that I could draw Sensei/Natsume with expressions that he doesn’t usually make. Natsume is really not very expressive with his face.

Chapters 52 - 54 - Behind the Chains Natsume is now able to face a variety of things. But I also feel that the distance between him and Natori grows each time they encounter one another. They see the same things and hope for the same outcome, but because their paths are a little different, it's hard for them to take action when they're together. It's a strange feeling. I'm sure Natori wants to remain Natsume's ally, and Natsume wants the same with Natori. I'm happy I got to draw more about Matoba, too. Whereas Natori tries to do what's right and is afraid of making a mistake, I think Matoba is the kind of person who doesn't fear making mistakes.

Volume 14 (Sidebar notes) It feels strange - I'm not quite sure if he's changed since he first showed up. His thoughts towards Natsume are changing, but maybe the man himself won't.

Chapters 60 - 62 - Different Eyes The Book of Friends is the reason yokai come after Natsume. He wants to talk to Natori about it, but since exorcists are a threat to yokai, and since he literally holds the fate of many of them in his hands, he doesn't want to betray them. Back in volume one, Natsume might've taken the Book of Friends and disappeared with Nyanko Sensei somewhere if he really got into trouble. But working on this episode, I don't think he'd be able to do that any longer. How things have changed. I looked at Natsume trying to understand Tanuma even though they live in different worlds, and I thought he was doing the right thing, but the whole thing also felt comical. I wondered how Natori felt when he saw Matoba making Natsume help with the exorcism work. This case was frustrating for Natori, who had to witness his old mentor become so oblivious that he could no longer see yokai in his own house. I think the existence of Natsume, with his different opinions, and Hîragi and the others, continue to affect Natori. I would've liked to draw more about Mr. Takuma and Tsukiko, so I'll do it when I get another opportunity.

Special Episode 15 - A World Without Distortion This was a story I've been longing to work on. I couldn't fit in all the parts I wanted, even though they let me do a two-parter, so I hope to get another opportunity some other time. I'd like to show more of the dilemma and frustration of wanting to do the right thing but having your actions distort your goals.

Chapters 72 - 73 - Closed Room Natsume had made up his mind to keep the book of friends a secret, but Natori ended up overhearing about it from another yokai - quite an undesirable situation. He decided he couldn't pretend it didn't happen. I think it had great meaning for Natsume to tell him with his own words, albeit belatedly. Meanwhile, since Natori had some clue about what it was, I think Natsume's decision to tell him meant more to Natori. I think he's the kind of guy who would act differently based on whether Natsume was willing to tell or not. I can't describe it very well, but with these two, when one of them steps forward, the other stalls out. I was happy I was able to draw Ms. Nanase again.

Chapter 77 - The Two Rings This was another story I had always wanted to do, but the timing never worked out, so I was very happy to get to it now. When I'm drawing Natsume, I always agonize over his dialogue and pick his words carefully. But when I'm drawing the Matoba clan, I don't have to think about the impression they're making, and I just use words that pop up in my head. Mr. Natori is somewhere in between. It's always a bit refreshing to draw the exorcists. I hope people form their opinions of Mr. Matoba based on what's on the page. In good ways and bad, he's a character who lies but is also uninhibited.

Chapter 78 - Tsukihigui I wanted Natsume to have different reactions that usual, so I picked a story not in the past or in the present, but a weird in-between. I debated a lot whether to have little Natsume be taken care of by the Yatsuhara yokai or the humans Tanuma and Taki. But upon further reflection, since Nyanko sensei is yokai, Tanuma and Taki would have a different approach to the situation and be more fun. It would've been interesting to go to Natori and have all three of them stare at each other with furrowed brows, but I discovered that whereas Natori would have a difficult time adapting to a situation like this, the students would display steadier nerves.

Special Episode 17 - A Hand Extended They let me do another episode of Natori as a high school student. There was another anecdote I wanted to include, but it wouldn't fit, no matter how hard I tried to rearrange things. Still, I'm happy I could depict more of Natori and Matoba's relationship. Sometimes you can't come to an understanding with a person, but once you become aware of your own feelings, you can often begin to be more objective. Then you start to see aspects of the person that change your mind, which is natural. But unlike Natsume, Natori can be stubborn and won't allow his feelings to change. It was interesting to see how Natori would feel about the aloof and unwavering Matoba.

Chapter 87 - Natsume in the Moonlight This one was 30 pages, so it was compact, but I wanted to make something that was a little creepy. You know how it's exciting to see a friend late at night, in a different light? This story couldn't be done with Tanuma, who knows Natsume's circumstances. It was only possible with Nishimura, who wouldn't question who the person in front of him was. If Natsume went to visit Kitamoto at night, he'd panic, scold him and send him home. And Tanuma would notice that something was off and cross-examine him. It would get even more out of hand with Natori, causing a domino effect. Though all of them would be fun and exciting. I only realized after the fact that someone who knows about Natssume's circumstances would make things more complicated in this type of story.

Chapters 92 - 94 - The House of Promises I have a memory of some boys climbing the gate of the town hall to pick some loquats at the end of spring and getting scolded. I made it seem like spring when the chapter appeared in the magazine, but then I heard that loquats ripen in early summer, so my older sister helped me race to redraw the clothing into something more summery before the graphic novel release. I enjoyed drawing the exorcists. Mr. Natori just can't catch a break and Mr. Matoba has many things going for him, but he often gets shut out. They don't really get along, and they're skeptical of each other even when real empathy is extended. Natsume is always at least trying to listen, so conversations are easier with him present. No matter what, Mr. Natori is older, and Mr. Matoba is younger. End of story. When I include the exorcists, there are all these dilemmas and convolutions that make things complicated and fun to draw. It feels fresh to me. I get nostalgic for the first time Natsume and Mr. Natori met when they're together. Their bond is getting deeper, but it was easier before for Mr. Natori to casually invite Natsume on outings. When you know someone a long time, there are more things to say, but sometimes, just as many things remain unsaid.

Chapters 103 - 104 - Where Vessels Lie in Slumber* I was so happy to work on a longer story for once. My head starts filling up with what to do next while I'm still working on the current episode.when I'm in one-shot mode. But being able to linger on a story arc reminded me of the excitement I felt back when I first wanted to be a manga artist. I still have a lot of storylines I'd prefer not to cut short, so I hope I get more opportunities like this. I've wanted to do this particular story for a long time, but. I feel like it could only be done now because of how Natsume's currently feeling. I hope you can pick up on how Natori and Matoba's relationship changes subtly depending on the situation, and that you get a feel for their solidarity as exorcist peers. It was so fun drawing everything I wanted to include: Natsume's faith in his friends; Natori's belief that he can still offer help even as an exorcist; Matoba, who's sometimes prevented from action because he knows and sees too much; Tanuma, who's surely able to help, but is unable to accompany Natsume; the cats protecting their secret; Nyanko Sensei. And of course there were even more things I wanted to expand on, so I'll take my time working them out.

*The first three chapters of this arc are in the previous volume and there's not enough in the other note for me to include.

Chapter 116* - The Younger Cousin This is a story I'd been saving for a long time. I had a clear vision of what I wanted to do, and I was worried about whether I could pull it off. I finally managed to thanks to my editor and everyone who supported me. I hop I was able to depict Natori's point of view, since he slips between the yokai and human worlds much more than Natsume, and how that appears from the yokai point of view. While Natsume has a narrow set of experiences in a narrow field, Natori has so much freedom and yet somehow seems much more trapped. I hope I can depict the path he's taken and the path he's going to take.

*Again, this arc is split between volumes and there wasn't much in the previous afterword.

#natsuyuu.txt #natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #natori shuuichi #horrible exorcists #this one is longgggg she loves to rotate him in her mind #even in some chapters he's not in #afterwords

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echantedtoon · 4 months ago

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OBSESSION 憑 MASTERLIST

SUMMERY: (Yandere Michikatsu/Kokushibo x Reader x Yandere Yoriichi) Obsession. To drown without you and expect nothing less but the heart from which they seek. Like an intoxicating addiction of the hearts growing roots to the minds and then eventually entrapping the soul in the twisted branches.

INFO:

Firstly I just wanted to make this clear. This is a FAN MADE continuation of the really good story Addiction by Mocha who had deactivated her account. I did try to find a way to reach out to finish up the story but no dice. She wrote the first two arcs of the Addiction story: Addiction and Intoxication.

I love the story and wanted to make at least a somewhat ending to it but remember this is NOT CANNON to the actual story!! This is a FAN MADE continuation and is absolutely not associated with the first 34 chapters. So as a fan made continuation, I'm going to write things that aren't in the original story to make it different.

1. Yoriichi is going to be thrown back into character being the kind and compassionate man he his. Still an obsessive Yandere but he's not going to be mean for no reason.

2. Spicy undertones are WAY turned down too. I'm focusing on the romantic aspect between them all.

3. I'm leaving out the pet dog.

4. Obsession Arc will not be very long and will have three endings. Yoriichi Ending, Michikatsu Ending, and Neither Ending.

Before you start reading this story please read the first 33 parts by the original writer here:

https://www.quotev.com/story/14123576/ADDICTION-ll-%E4%B8%AD%E6%AF%92

https://www.quotev.com/rosecrush

And read the cannon 34th chapter here:

https://www.quotev.com/story/15762833/Addiction-%E4%B8%AD%E6%AF%92

https://www.quotev.com/faithmolerat16748

Obsession Art

Obsession Art 2

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40 Sneak Peak

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

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snowdice · 1 month ago

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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 125]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55 Part 56 Part 57

I have been sick and I'm very tired, but I will work on the epilogue today for a bit at least!

Chapter 58 (Patton)

If Patton hadn’t already been looking, he probably wouldn’t have had any idea what happened.

Everything had been fine. Virgil had been sitting cross legged, idly watching the conclusion of the game they’d been playing when his posture had suddenly changed. Patton had looked over at him only to see an expression on his face he didn’t recognize, but it didn’t seem good.

“What?” Patton had asked, but the question didn’t seem to register to Virgil.

Logan had glanced up confused and also noticed Virgil’s face. He’d just opened his mouth to also ask what was going on when chaos descended.

Virgil was suddenly moving, crashing into King Thomas who hadn’t even looked up to see something was wrong at that point. Patton realized after the fact that Virgil had swiped up the board of the game they’d been playing as he jumped over it, the pieces previously stacked on it scattering all over the blanket. There were three thumps as some things hit the thick board, imbedding themselves into the surface.

When Virgil discarded the board in favor of the picnic basket, Patton saw there were small darts in it oozing a dark black liquid. The parts of the board they touched were dissolving, the grass under the new holes beginning to wilt rapidly.

Logan seemed to notice the oozing liquid the same moment Patton did and was quicker to realize what it was. He grabbed Patton’s arm and yanked him away from the board so hard he almost dislocated Patton’s shoulder, not that Patton was too worried about that. He scrambled away from it when he realized what it must be himself.

He could hear the sound of glassware smashing above them. Logan and Patton had rolled off the blanket in their quest to get away from the smoldering, melting board and apparently Virgil had pulled the picnic blanket fully over the king at some point.

Virgil himself was now gone from where he’d been the last time Patton had looked and it took him a moment to figure out where the boy had gone. The person who had been shooting poisoned darts at them had been drawn out of the wooded area they’d been hiding in by Virgil’s attacks.

They were cloaked in dark green from head to toe, explaining why they’d been difficult to spot when they were in the woods. Whoever they were, they were significantly larger than Virgil, possibly an actual adult or almost adult assassin, but they were also clearly a long distant fighter. They had not been expecting resistance let alone resistance in the form of a so quick he was almost a blur fellow assassin.

They had a bow strapped to their back, but they hadn’t had a chance to get it. Instead, they were trying to fight Virgil off with an arrow they’d managed to draw from their quiver. Virgil, meanwhile was lunging at them with a broken piece of plate in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.

Virgil dodged out of the way of the arrow striking towards his arm, though Patton didn’t think it was because he was afraid of getting scratched by an arrow, but because it may also be poisoned tipped.

Virgil was distracted by dodging for long enough that the older assassin managed to hit him in the face with the arm not holding the arrow.

He went down, but he took the older assassin with him, sweeping their legs out from under them. Patton hadn’t noticed (his mind working too slow for how fast they were moving) but they were on a slight incline. They went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs towards the edge of the cliff and skidded to a stop only a few feet away.

Virgil ended up on top, his piece of broken plate in his hands. He moved to slash it across the other assassin’s throat and managed to draw blood, but the assassin’s fist came out to shove at Virgil’s chest at just the right moment, causing the strike to veer off course and slice across the assassin’s cheek instead.

Virgil jerked to the side to avoid a second strike to the chest and went back for another slash. The other assassin rolled to the side as he did and the plate only managed to nick their ear. The point of the motion hadn’t been to dodge, however. They were lunging for the arrow they’d dropped a few feet away while they’d rolled. They grabbed it with their right hand and in the same motion stabbed back behind them towards Virgil.

Virgil rolled to avoid the hit, already slashing up with his plate as the assassin turned back towards him.

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He didn’t hit them this time but his swipe managed to stop them from stabbing him when they tried again. They shoved themselves back to avoid Virgil’s swing, putting a bit of distance between them. Both of them managed to make it to their feet during the momentary reprieve, but both also stayed crouched, eyeing each other.

They both lunged towards each other at the same time. The assassin went for a stab to Virgil’s neck with the arrow, but Virgil was already ducking down. This time, he wasn’t going for a kill shot. He grabbed the assassin’s wrist and at the same time drove his piece of plate into the assassin’s arm, slicing down from the elbow to wrist. The assassin spoke for the first time, cursing in a language Patton didn’t recognize as they were forced to drop their arrow.

Virgil took a moment to kick the arrow away from the assassin and it ended up falling off the cliff.

However, this pause gave the assassin enough time to regroup. Despite their arm bleeding profusely, they still decided to use it to backhand Virgil across the face viciously, leaving a long line of their own blood across his face.

Virgil lunged back forward, but the assassin was able to get a leg between them, kicking Virgil squarely in the chest and sending him flying back a few feet parallel to the cliff’s edge.

The assassin went to grab their bow and another arrow from the quiver still strapped to their shoulder.

Virgil, however, apparently went for another weapon too and he was much faster with a knife than any archer. A knife appeared in his hand, having been strapped to his ankle and was embedded into the assassin’s chest before they could even full remove an arrow from their quiver.

The assassin promptly burst into flames, fire catching their clothes (and from the smell of it their skin) ablaze. Panicked and dying, they stumbled two steps to the side. They stepped directly off the cliff.

There was a second of silence. They heard the sound of the body hitting the ground far below and then the flap of wings and screeching as birds below fled from the startling sound (and possible soon to be forest fire).

…

“Uh, Virgil?” King Thomas said. He had managed to get the blanket off his head at some point. When, Patton didn’t know, but seeing any of it was probably enough.

Oopsie.

Chapter 59 (Logan)

Logan and Patton had been useless during the fight, but that may have been for the best. Considering the skill differential when it came to fighting (and that differential had never been as clear as it was in this moment), that was probably for the best. They likely would have just gotten in the way.

The moment Logan’s father spoke, however, they both jumped into action.

They both knew their jobs in a situation like this. Patton pushed himself up to his feet ungracefully and all but sprinted over towards Virgil. Logan, on the other hand stood to face his father, putting himself very purposefully between the man who had no idea what was going on yet and the boy who was two seconds away from remembering what was going on.

“I can explain,” Logan said.

His father was still sitting on the ground. “You can explain,” he said slowly, “how Virgil just threw an assassin off a cliff.”

Logan thought pointing out that Virgil hadn’t thrown anyone off a cliff and instead had set them on fire with a magical knife causing them to walk off a cliff, would not be useful in this moment. He glanced back briefly towards where Virgil and Patton were standing and then turned back to his father. “Yes.”

“And what would that explanation be?”

Before even starting to speak, Logan found himself making large dramatic ‘explaining hand gestures’ that he’d thought he’d long since trained himself out of. When he was younger and in trouble, he always used to give himself away as guilty by being overly expressive with his hands (and arms).

“So,” Logan said. He was still not able to stop the hand motions. “Virgil was an assassin. He came here to kill you last fall, but he accidently went to the wrong room in the royal wing. Patton and I were having a slumber party and caught him in the act. Then we reformed him and now he doesn’t kill people anymore.” He paused and glanced back, remembering the body that had just toppled off the cliff. “Er, uh, he doesn’t kill people who haven’t shot poisoned darts at people recently anymore?”

“What?”

“Look,” Logan said. “You’re going to have to tell him you’re not going to execute him soon. Patton can only keep him from bolting for so long.”

“Execute him?” his father asked.

“Well, he was a Mocnejsi assassin sent to kill you,” Logan said.

“Virgil is a Mocnejsi assassin,” his father repeated as though to confirm he’d heard him right.

Logan had thought the Mocnejsi was implied. “He was,” Logan confirmed.

“Why does that make more sense than any other explanation I’ve come up with for him?” his father asked while pinching his brow. Logan took that as rhetorical. Then, his father looked at him again. “He’s 14.”

“Yes,” Logan said, “I’m also pretty sure this is the first person he’s actually killed while not under a blood compulsion, so you really need to tell him he’s not going to be executed.”

His father seemed to actually absorb Logan’s request this time. He finally looked over Logan’s shoulder at Virgil, concern crossing his face at what he saw. “Right.”

He moved to step around Logan then, and Logan let him. Logan turned to watch him slowly approach Patton and Virgil, his hands out in a placating manner. He stopped a few feet away.

“Hey,” his father said. “That was a bit scary, huh?” Virgil looked at him, eyes wide and darting around like they did when he was looking for an escape. There wasn’t much of one being so close to the edge of the cliff.

Logan would worry he’d contemplate throwing himself off of it in a bid to escape if Patton wasn’t clutching him to prevent that. “You did a good job.”

That seemed to give Virgil pause, his eyes focusing on father. “Good job?” he asked.

“Yes, well,” father said with a small smile, “judging by what those darts are doing to the grass and how far we are from any supplies for counter potions, I think you blocking them probably saved my life. So, I think a good job is in order.”

Virgil did not respond verbally, though he tilted his head like he did when he was thinking through the steps of a potion.

His posture changed enough that Patton released him cautiously, taking a step away.

“But,” Virgil said. “I’m an assassin.”

“Yes,” Father said. “I could tell by how that fight just went.”

Virgil shifted his weight. “I came here to kill you.”

His father spread his arms wide. “Yet, here I am,” he pointed out. “You’ve had me alone multiple times including once in a secret room possibly no one would have ever found. Plus, you saved me today. I think that more than makes up for the intentions you had months ago.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to send me to prison?” Virgil asked. “Or execute me?”

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“No, of course not,” his father said.

Virgil eyed him, still slightly warry.

“I promise, Virgil, you’re fine.”

“Dad wouldn’t lie,” Logan interjected. Virgil looked over at him and then back at Father. He nodded slowly.

“Good,” Father said. “Now can we get a bit further back from the edge?” He glanced at Patton. “You too, Patton.”

Virgil and Patton both stepped towards him, and he herded them far away from the edge until they were at the edge of the surrounding forest. Logan followed as well.

“Can I touch your face?” Father asked once they were sufficiently away from the cliffs.

Virgil nodded and father pulled out a handkerchief. He carefully wiped the blood off Virgil’s face the best he could (most of it was not Virgil’s) and inspected the boy’s split lip and already bruising eye.

“Is your chest alright?” Father asked.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah.”

Father considered him. “Enough to ride back to the castle.”

“It wasn’t that bad of a hit,” Virgil insisted.

Father studied him for a moment longer. “I’ll choose to believe you for now,” he said. “We should get back to the castle as soon as possible just in case this is not an isolated attack.”

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“We don’t work in teams,” Virgil informed them. “They worry we’d get emotionally attached and not complete our missions.”

“I can understand why they would say something like that,” Father said, letting just a bit of his scorn come through, “but still, we should be on our way.”

With that, he put an arm on Virgil’s back to guide him back towards where they’d left the horses.

“Huh,” Logan said to Patton as they began to walk behind them. “I thought we’d be in more trouble for all of this.”

His father paused at overhearing that, turning to look at them over his shoulder briefly.

“Ah,” said Logan with a grimace. “I see.”

“It’s been nice being your friend all these years Logan,” Patton said solemnly. “Too bad we’re both going to be locked in our rooms for the rest of our lives.”

“Until your 50s with good behavior,” Father informed them blandly.

That was… probably fair. They did allow an assassin to freely roam the castle for months without telling anyone. The fact that his father was now watching that assassin like a hawk to make sure he wasn’t more injured than he was saying, did not change that fact.

Logan couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

Epilogue

“Do you think they’ll light your trees on fire this year?” an amused (but slightly concerned) voice asked from behind Jeffers. Jeffers ran a finger over the empty thumb of his slightly dirty gardening gloves while watching the two boys. They were currently leaning over an unlit lantern and various “supplies.” In truth, he’d stopped his own work to watch the two boys out of that very concern.

“Virgil helped me fertilize that tree a week ago,” Jeffers replied. “So, I’d hope he has some caution.”

“Virgil likes fire though,” Thomas pointed out.

Jeffers sighed. “That he does.” He tilted his head towards Thomas. “You did confiscate the fire knife again after last week, yes?”

“I did,” Thomas confirmed, “but that means very little. Even burying that thing with a corpse did not dissuade him.”

As he spoke, a sudden spark of light flew from where the boys were working. A whining sound and then pop sounded as the spark exploded into 10 pieces, raining down colorful light. Luckily, they burned up before hitting the ground (or the tree).

“Boys, if you set anything on fire, you will be grounded from the festival,” Thomas called in a booming voice. Both boys jumped. Jeffers imagined Logan hadn’t even known he was there. (Virgil certainly did, but he still jumped. “For the second year in a row in Logan’s case.”

“They’re not flammable!” was the claim from Logan.

“I don’t believe you,” Thomas called back.

The boys ignored this, turning back to their experiment.

“We should have kept them grounded,” Thomas muttered. Despite Thomas’s original decision to ground Patton and Logan until their 50s (and Helen’s push to keep them grounded until Thomas, Helen, and Jeffers himself were all dead and couldn’t enforce it anymore), the boys had only been grounded for two months after Thomas had found out the truth of Virgil’s origins. That did, however, mean that Patton and Logan had been grounded from most of the lantern festival the year before.

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Logan, at least, seemed to be trying to make up for lost time this year (explosively). Jeffers did worry about where Patton was slightly, but honestly Patton without Logan or Virgil tended to be much less destructive in his hijinx. The worst he was probably doing was stealing sweets out from under Helen’s nose. Which was why both Jeffers and Thomas were currently here watching these two.

There were more sparks from the boy’s experiment. The grass caught fire at their feet. Virgil hastily stomped it out.

“I’ll watch them if you want to get food to bribe Virgil away,” Jeffers offered.

#proofreading stories

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