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niceonejames7 · 10 days ago

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fighting dogs & crying wolves

remus thinks you're oblivious to his condition despite your bias towards wolves. maybe you love wolves a bit more than he thinks.

part two for dogs or deers? or rats? (both can be read as standalones) (some parts may feel weird, though not anything major)

words: 1.9k

genre: fluff(?), lil bit angst, hurt/comfort, it's all happy ending

warnings: remus has self depreciating thoughts, mention of injuries

a/n: i imagine the end scene (these 1 , 2) very similar to the peter and gwen scene when he's in her bed injured because I'm kinda obsessed

...

Remus was tired today. The moon would greet him soon, their monthly encounter on the way. He has taken a habit of personifying his tormentor. To see the moon as just the moon seemed to torture him more. Your hands were on his face more than he could count. That's how it always is. He had learned quickly enough that you loved through your touches, through your actions. He finds it funny when you worry that they (the boys) don't know how much you love them, it's a silly question anyway, but it pains him to understand how much you love him. This time he doesn't have to personify his torment.

The lights are harsh on his pages and he looks up to search for the switch, James knows his cue and gets up to change them. Remus smiles and James feels proud, it's a silly thing.

You're sleeping, well you're trying to sleep, your head on a pillow that's laid over his legs. He had asked you to sleep on his lap, "I don't want to interrupt your reading." you had reasoned.

Sirius opens the door rather loudly but settles down when he senses the quiet environment, his eyes darting to your sleeping figure.

He grimaces, "Sorry," a loud whisper, which only elicited an amused smile on your face.

Sirius wouldn't dare wake you up, but if he has already done half the damage, he is not giving up the chance of a cuddle.

He slowly climbs on the bed, pushes his head between the space of Remus' and his book and steals a kiss.

Sirius smiles against his lips and Remus thinks of the moon again. He had been trying to do less of that lately, to cover his moments of happiness with a blanket of moonlight. Poetic, he thinks.

Sirius makes himself comfortable, his hands wrapped around your waist, impatient for you to be near him. You don't open your eyes to see who it is, it's very clear which one your boyfriends it will be.

He buries his face at the crook of your neck and you complain,

"Clingy."

Sirius whines and nuzzles further into his space before extracting himself to confront you,

"No."

You open one of your eyes, a teasing smile on your lips and of course he plants a kiss, how could he not, you looked so lovely in his arms.

"You know what, why don't you tell me what your favourite animal is. I should know who I'm competing with."

Your eyes are closed again, but the smile on your lips is permanent.

"It's not a dog." you say in a matter-of-factly tone. Sirius rolls his eyes, "What is it then? A cat ?" James says, dramatising his tone when he says the word cat, like it could cause a scandal.

You sigh heavily and cast a mock remorseful look at Sirius, "No matter how many dog themed trinkets you bring me, it won't change my opinion. I'm sorry, okay?"

"And also, no, it isn't a cat. Though I do like them a lot." You truly ponder for a moment about what your favourite animal could be, but your mind comes up blank.

"I don't know honestly, I've never been much of an animal person."

Somehow, that statement feels too personal to Remus. It's silly, he thinks.

Sirius thinks of something, possibly something that Remus wouldn't like.

"What about wolves?"

A fraction of a second passes and a million things cross Remus' mind. He thinks how he's going to kill Sirius, he thinks how tired he is, he thinks how you're going to leave him now, and by proxy James and Sirius too. Because he unfortunately knew they would stick by his side. He thinks how much pain he will cause, just because he's this creature.

"I like wolves. Actually, I really like wolves. Did you know dogs and wolves belong in the same family? They're both canines."

Sirius' smile is too wide, he thinks. He suppresses it a little, enjoying your little ramble.

"I'm aware, darling." he says, his fingers slowly caressing Remus' thighs, a futile comforting gesture. Nothing could calm the erratic beating of his heart.

"Maybe we can bond over that. We both like wolves, in our own way, and you can forgive me for not liking dogs."

Sirius wanted to take your face and pepper you with kisses. He wanted to laugh at how what you just said is probably true. You both do love a wolf, that is something you two bond over.

"Do you remember learning about werewolves?" James speaks up after calming himself down for Remus' sake.

"Yeah, pretty cool stuff." You say casually, as much nonchalance as you can muster.

Remus holds back a scoff, "Cool? How is it cool?"

"I dunno. Seems pretty cool. I'd like to know how it's like" you take a pause, your hands gesturing to explain, a pathetic attempt to calm your nerves, "how it's like to turn into an animal, or something of that sort, you know?"

"You could become an animagus." He says, his voice defensive. He doesn't know why. James casts a look at Remus, his nervous expression barely hidden, as often the case was with him.

"Yeah, but that's elective. I just wonder what it's like." Your voice goes quieter, sensing the tension in the air, you might have an idea on why it's present.

"You don't think it's strange?" His words are tentative, testing the waters.

"I'm sure it is. I don't understand why we have to be mean about it. Just seems like baseless prejudice." you're facing him now, a bit worried at his words. Your eyes searched his face, though he couldn't figure out what you wanted to find.

"They're pretty dangerous."

"Anyone can be dangerous, Rem. If they want to be. And wouldn't it unfair to cast someone as dangerous over something they can't control?" you ask. rhetorically, shaking your head as you get up to kiss him goodnight, another one to James before covering your face with your blanket, cozying yourself into Sirius. His gaze is still insistent on Remus.

Remus' hands reach your head and he runs his long fingers through your hair, a slight hint of a smile present on his lips.

This would be one of the worst times Remus' would look back on. These past few months had become so easy, with his pack, his friends by his side, taming down the wolf. But he had been too much in his head this time. Not aware of his surroundings, his thoughts covered by you.

He had gotten too far and Padfoot or Prongs couldn't reach him anymore, James had told him.

His scars were too visible, again. His eyelids felt heavy with pain. Madam Pomfrey had been generous with her potions, doing everything in her favor to heal him. It had worked, his scars had faded, not entirely gone, but they weren't so ugly anymore. They're not ugly Rem, your voice echoed in his mind. He smiles despite himself. These sentences had become sort of like automatic responses in his mind, James, Sirius and your words, one after the other to counter his misery.

It was early morning, and today there had been plans to go to Hogsmeade. Sirius had promised he would take care of the situation. Remus' always felt guilty when they would cover up his lies. But today was too much of an exhausting day to worry.

Maybe he'll tell you tomorrow, or later. Or you would be gone before he has a chance. Maybe that's the best option, he thinks, the last thing on his mind as he drifts to sleep.

…

He's awoken to a soft touch on his cheek, he dreads opening his eyes. Pomfrey is going to have to bandage him up this time, the wounds are too severe. He winces the second his muscles have to move,

"Oh no, I'm so sorry." His eyes fly open, his ears alert to the familiar voice.

"Shh, lay down." You push his shoulder gently to the bed, and hold up a bag,

"I was already in Hogsmeade. Thought I'd bring over your favourites."

A bag full of chocolates. Remus smiles weakly even though his entire being is filled with fear. His eyes are watching every move of yours, how your fingers twitch when they're near him. If he didn't know you, he would misinterpret it as disgust, or annoyance, but he knew better.

"But first, we have to dress you up." You say softly, your eyes smiling at him. It always felt like that, whenever you looked at him.

Your hands were tentative, too careful and gentle than needed. He was used to it, the pain. But he didn't say anything, just watched you figure it out, welcoming the gentle approach.

As your hands apply the balm to his wounds, he audibly winces, which causes you to wince and pull your hands back. You look at him sorrowfully, "Did I hurt you too much?" He shakes his head no. He would have laughed at your question some other time, Not more than me, dove. That is, if he wasn't terrified.

"You know," your voice is quiet, just above a whisper, "I'd really like to know what kind of dog you've been fighting, just about every month." your eyes flicker, a knowing sadness enveloping them.

His eyes sombered. A wave of guilt and sadness covered them, a slight frown on his forehead, but his eyes never left yours.

She knows, Remus realises.

He doesn't know why he assumed you wouldn't. You're smart, perceptive, kind. He should have known why you didn't question their monthly disappearances. He should have known why your touches were more frequent around the full moons.

He always brushed it off. Hopeful thinking. It must be a coincidence. He had hoped too much, too illogically. He had indulged his wishful thinking in hopes of not having to confront you, he supposed that is his fault.

He found himself more guilty of the fact that he had hid something from you, rather than you knowing the truth.

It was a surprising realisation, yet also not.

He should have known, really. He should have told you himself.

His hands raise to hold the side of your face, his touch a bit too harsh as he pulls you closer, his hands less in his control. His thumbs run across your damp cheeks, tears he had just noticed.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, his words a bit wobbly, unsure of his own voice. Your forehead rests against his, and you tilt your head to kiss him. He hesitated, just for a second, but pulled you back in when you tried to distance yourself.

The air is heavy with tension and unspoken revelations, "I don't care about your dog fights, Remus. You should know that."

Remus is grateful for the metaphor James had coined. He didn't know if he could handle the direct words, the intensity of the truth. He'll tell you every single detail, as long as it takes, as much as it scared him, or hurt him. Maybe he'll tell you tonight, or tomorrow, or maybe the day after. It doesn't really matter anyway.

"And no more hiding in hospital when it hurts you too much."

He nodded, repressing a smile at the dog metaphor.

"I'm beginning to think this dog and I are in an abusive relationship."

You laugh, and he's glad to hear the sound, his own mouth mimicking yours.

"I'll fight all your dogs, baby." You brush away his hair from his forehead to see him better, a small scar hidden by his hair revealing itself.

"I don't think Sirius will appreciate that."

You roll your eyes, "Who cares what he thinks."

"Oh, you have so much you don't know."

"What else is there to know?" You look at him questioningly.

Remus chuckles and pulls you in to kiss you again,

"You will get all your answers, dove. I promise."

"But-"

"There are some things that that pretty little head of yours can't figure out."

"Huh-" You don't get to say much, because he shuts you up, his smiling lips on yours.

#poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders angst #marauders #hurt/comfort #the maruaders #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #poly!marauders

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year ago

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instead of you [part twenty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni)

word count: 5.1k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms

The silence that followed your admission was excruciating. You wished you knew what Minho was thinking. He was impossible to read, aside from the evident anger written all over his face. His body language didn’t give much away either. He was closed off, arms folded across his chest, chin raised just slightly.

“So who are you then?” he demanded, tone even despite being the exact opposite mere moments ago.

“What?”

“Who are you? Are you just some girl that Jisung is using?”

“What the fuck, no!”

“Why are you acting like that’s some outrageous possibility? I just found out you’ve been lying to everyone all summer!”

“I’ve been Jisung’s best friend for like four years now, I’m all over his Instagram! Felix came to visit us and we all hung out, there are pictures of that too. I can’t believe you’d think I’m some random person!”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not thinking completely rationally right now!” he spat. “Why the hell would Jisung lie about- why would he say he had a girlfriend if he didn’t?”

“It’s a long story,” you mumbled with a sigh. “But we really don’t have time to get into that right now. I came up here because I was supposed to bring you back to the room.”

Minho made a face. “What, why?”

“Your cousins called.”

The shift in his demeanor was immediate. He visibly perked up, but only briefly, before seeming to remember the conversation he was having. “Jeongin and Yoon?”

“Yeah. Everyone else is on FaceTime with them right now. I told everyone I’d come to get you so that none of them would have to miss out on talking to him,” you explained. “So we should probably get going because I don’t know how long he has to chat.”

“Fine,” Minho surrendered easily, “but we’re not done talking about this.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you sighed again, still feeling nauseous. With everything that had already happened, you knew there was no way that this could end well. But now, now that one person knew it was all a lie, you were fucked. “Just… don’t tell anyone, please?”

He pursed his lips but nodded. “You sure have a lot of secrets to keep track of, don’t you?”

It was meant to sting, and it did, but you didn’t let him see the crack in the glass.

“I could say the same for you.”

You slipped into your room as soon as you got back to the penthouse, not wanting to face any of the other Hans, especially not your best friend. You collapsed onto the bed with a muffled scream into your pillow.

You expected yourself to start crying, but the tears didn’t come. They wouldn’t come. The initial panic had been replaced with numbness. Apathy personified, you could feel it spreading from your heart out through your veins, creating a tingling sensation that reached the very tips of your fingers.

You had to tell Jisung, right? He’d understand… probably. You hadn’t told Minho. He figured it out on his own. Yeah, you should tell Jisung and then you could also come clean about… everything else. Maybe. But maybe you could also take it to your grave since it seemed like any possibility of you and Minho becoming an item, whatever that implied, was out of the question now. You knew he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Not after tonight. You couldn’t erase his look of betrayal from your mind no matter how hard you tried.

Just how many people were you hurting by merely being on this trip? There was no way to know for sure, not that knowing would make you feel any less guilty.

Maybe it was better not to tell Jisung. Maybe you could pretend like everything was fine, and then it would be. But that was what had gotten you in trouble in the first place.

You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a jolt some hours later. The room was dark. The lamp had been switched off and the blinds were shut. Jisung was snoring softly beside you. He was tucked under the covers while you were still laying on top of them.

You rolled over and felt for your phone, finding it underneath your pillow. You were surprised to see that you had missed a text from Minho. It was from an hour and a half ago and just said can you meet me in room 422?

You weren’t sure if he would still be waiting there since it had been so long since he sent the message, but you responded with a tentative sure and quietly snuck out of your bedroom. You hoped Jisung wouldn’t wake up before you returned. Having to explain where you were or why you were there would only complicate things. You still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell him… anything. You needed more time to think things through. At least, that’s the excuse you told yourself.

The fourth floor was eerily quiet, reminding you of how late it was. Stepping off the elevator into the hallway felt like a mistake, like you were trespassing on private property. Minho hadn’t replied to your text so you didn’t know if he was still awake, but you knocked at the door anyway. He answered after the second knock.

“There you are,” he said and stepped aside to let you in. He seemed to have cooled down, which was a good sign, but there was still tension lingering between you.

You slid by him, stopping in the entryway just past the door. The room he had summoned you to was just a plain hotel room. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the room and a desk in the corner, but not much else.

“You can sit wherever.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and perched yourself on the edge of the bed. Minho followed you but refrained from sitting, choosing to lean back against the dresser so that he could face you.

“Why’d you want to meet me here?” you asked.

“I, uh, thought that talking in my room back at the apartment would look kind of weird if anyone saw us,” he explained awkwardly, “and the walls are thin too.”

“Alright, you have a point,” you admitted with a shaky exhale. “Whose room is this?”

“It’s mine. I went down to the lobby and booked it for the night.”

Oh to have a K-pop-sized disposable income.

“Oh, right. Should have thought of that.” You swallowed thickly, trying still to appear calm, cool, and collected. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”

You realized that Minho hadn’t mentioned wanting to talk in his text. You were just assuming. But given the events of the night, you felt that it was a pretty safe assumption to make.

“I wanted to know why you and Jisung lied to everyone,” he took a brief pause before continuing, “and why I now have to lie to everyone too.”

You bit your tongue, stopping yourself before you could point out that he was already lying to everyone, and just nodded.

“So the thing is, when he told your parents he had a girlfriend, he did have a girlfriend. They broke up, like, less than a week after he told them that and I guess he was too embarrassed to break the news because they were so excited for him and had already invited her on the trip. Jisung figured that maybe he’d have another girlfriend by the time he actually had to go on the trip, but when the end of the semester rolled around and he didn’t, I kind of filled the vacancy because he asked me to.”

“But why?” Minho pressed. “Why was it so important for him to be dating someone?”

“I don’t know, actually. He told me that it was to make your parents happy because they were always bugging him about his dating life, but I thought there might have been another reason that he just wasn’t telling me.”

Minho hummed thoughtfully. “Mom and dad are pretty nosy about our lives, but I don’t know why he would feel pressured to be in a relationship.”

“I think he felt like he had something to prove,” you said, choosing your words carefully. You knew how rocky Jisung’s relationship with his older brother was, at least from what he told you. You didn’t want to give Minho anything he could hold against him. “You’re not going to say anything to your parents or Felix, are you?”

“No,” he answered immediately and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “That’s his prerogative, I suppose. I don’t want to start anything between us- it’s not my place to say anything, really.”

“Thank you.”

He let his arms drop to his sides but didn’t move from where he was standing. “So, there’s really nothing going on between you and Jisung?”

“No, I swear.”

“Even after spending all this time together on the trip?”

“Nope, we spend all of our time together anyway.”

“So are you… friends with benefits?” he asked.

“No. We’ve made out a few times, but it really just happens when we’re drunk. We never slept together.”

“But what about…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was talking about instantly.

“Oh, no! That was all fake. We just did that to sell it more, and sometimes to mess with you guys.”

“I knew there was no way he could be that good,” Minho whispered.

You chuckled but came to your friend’s defense. “He seems to do pretty well for himself. Girls usually call him back after staying over so he must be doing something right.”

“I can’t believe it was fake,” Minho mumbled, mostly to himself. “Sorry, I’m still processing this.”

“Take your time.”

You leaned back on the palms of your hands, feeling a little more relaxed now that you knew he didn’t hate you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked finally, letting the mask fall the tiniest bit. “After I kissed you the first time? Or when you kissed me back? This whole time I’ve felt like such an asshole for- for everything that happened.”

“I thought about it,” you admitted, “but Jisung and I agreed that it would stay between us. I’m sorry.”

“I get why you didn’t. I just wish it could have been different.”

“Me too,” you agreed.

Minho crossed over to the bed and sat down next to you.

“I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”

You threw your head back laughing. You hadn’t expected him to say that. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s a relief not to have to keep up the act around you anymore.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Minho raised an eyebrow and grinned, making you shy away from his gaze.

You looked down at your lap.

“Because it was exhausting! I don’t know how to act.” It was a half-truth, and you suspected that he knew it.

“You had me fooled.”

You managed to look back up at him only to find him staring at your lips. This was not how you imagined this conversation going at all.

“Maybe I should change career paths then,” you choked out.

“Yeah, maybe.”

A few more beats of silence lapsed between you before Minho spoke again.

“All of this time we could have been doing this,” he murmured gently.

You scrunched your face up in confusion. “What’s ‘doing this’?”

He leaned forward and bridged the gap between you by pressing his lips to yours to answer your question. His hand came up to your hair instinctively, muscle memory, and brushed it out of your face before cupping your jaw. You melted into him like you had done too many times before, letting him trace the curves of your face with his thumb like he was trying to memorize it.

His palm was warm and you could feel the calluses on his hand against your cheek. You were the first to moan, any embarrassment long forgotten as you climbed onto his lap.

Minho accommodated your weight easily, hands immediately coming down to grab your ass. He allowed you to push him down so that he was lying flat on the bed with you straddling his waist.

Minho slipped his tongue into your mouth as the kiss intensified, teasing you with it. You whimpered when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. Minho just smirked and used the opportunity to flip you over so that he was on top.

Then his lips were back on you, brushing against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. As soon as you felt his teeth graze your skin you pushed his head back and gave him a look. It was his turn to pout.

“You can’t leave marks, idiot.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he said apologetically, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know that he didn’t mean it whatsoever. “Well, you can mark me up as much as you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lucky me.”

Minho ignored your comment and raised himself onto his hands, still hovering over you. He looked pretty, even in the dim, yellowy hotel room light. His lips were already a bit puffy, but he hadn’t even been kissing you for that long. You briefly wondered how they’d look after making out with your cunt, all swollen and glossy. You tried to squeeze your thighs together at the thought, legs closing around Minho’s hips instead. He seemed pleased at your eagerness and rewarded you with another kiss.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked when he came up for air. You nodded. “Here, lift up a little.”

You did as he asked so that he could work the t-shirt over your head, laughing when he tossed it on the floor.

“You weren’t wearing a bra?”

“I was about to go to sleep!”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Likely story.”

“No, you’re right. I came here in my pajamas fully intending to seduce you.”

“Well, it worked.”

“Of course it did. Men are so easy.”

He shook his head, tongue poking his cheek. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

You cocked your head to the side, fully aware that Minho had the physical upper hand. “We’ll see.”

As soon as the words left your mouth Minho’s hands were on your boobs, effectively shutting you up. He circled a thumb around each of your nipples, smirking when you gasped and arched your back.

“Barely even touching you and look how eager you are for me,” he mused.

“T-take your shirt off too.” It was meant to be a command, but it sounded more like a plea.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, since you asked so nicely.”

Minho reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt off, throwing it in the same general direction as he had thrown yours. You had seen Minho shirtless plenty of times before and you still couldn’t help but stare. His body looked like one of those statues you had seen in the Louvre, carved out of marble by one of the artists they named the Ninja Turtles after.

You reached out to touch his chest, running your fingertips along his pale skin.

“Can I take these off too?” Minho asked, playing with the hem of your sweats. He snapped the elastic band against your hip, making you flinch.

“Yes, please get them off of me, it’s hot,” you whined.

You were left in just your underwear beneath him. You were usually pretty confident with sexual partners, but with Minho you felt exposed, vulnerable. You felt the urge to cover yourself, even though he was looking at you like you were a star amongst the cosmos.

He repositioned himself lower in between your legs and before you could ask what he was doing, he pressed his tongue against your clothed cunt, licking a fat stripe between your folds.

You cried out in surprise, hips bucking into his face as a string of curses left your mouth.

Minho raised his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been imagining what you taste like for weeks. I just had to know.”

“It felt good,” you assured him, silently begging him to continue. “Was it what you hoped it would be?”

“Better. Can I please keep going?”

“God, yes.”

He placed a hand on either one of your thighs to hold you down as he buried his head in between your legs again. He teased you with his tongue over your panties, finding your clit in an impressively short amount of time. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head against you. He groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening as you pulled his hair.

“Please, need more,” you whined.

And Minho was all too willing to give you exactly that. Instead of taking the time to take your panties off, he just pulled them to the side so that he could have complete access to your pussy. He went back to work and you both moaned. His tongue was wet and warm and felt perfect on your clit. You frowned when he started moving lower, confused as to what he was doing until you felt his tongue working you open. No one had ever tongue-fucked you before and you thought you might cum from that alone.

Minho paused again to catch his breath. “Fuck, I knew you were wet, but I didn’t expect you to be this wet,” he rasped out.

“Sorry,” you hissed, cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?”

“N-no one.”

“Good, because it’s hot.”

You scoffed.

“Lay back down,” Minho said, nodding at you to punctuate his point.

You rolled your eyes at him but did as he said anyway. “You’re so bossy.”

“Do you want me to keep going or not?”

“Fine, fine. Sorry.”

“I fucking knew you were a brat,” he sneered.

“What gave it away?” you asked sweetly.

“Take a wild guess.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows again despite just being told to lie down. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Instead of answering, Minho hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, making you lose your balance and yelp in surprise. You watched his shoulder muscles flex as he used his strength to push your hips down, preventing you from squirming. The sight was enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together, but of course, Minho was stopping you from doing just that.

He pulled your panties off completely this time, apparently frustrated with the obstacle in his way. They joined the heap of clothes on the ground. You didn’t even need to look at them to know that they were ruined.

His mouth was back on you before you could get another word in, causing any snarky remark you’d been about to make dissolve into a moan. It was a little sloppy at first. He had yet to fully regain his bearings, but dove in headfirst anyway. Kisses against the crux of your thigh, nips at your hip bones. Teasing and experimental.

His touch didn’t have the practiced familiarity of a lover. Each movement was eager, exploratory. He was learning your body like he had all the time in the world, but you were growing impatient.

Your hands flew to his hair again as he finally laved his tongue over your clit. You suppressed your moans this time, remembering what he had said about the neighbors.

“Fuck, keep going,” you hissed, encouraging him to continue. “Please keep going.”

You could feel Minho smirking against your pussy, but you didn’t care. He could be as cocky as he wanted if he was going to make you feel this good.

It didn’t take much to get you to the edge. It had been a while since you’d gotten laid, and you had been wanting Minho for God knows how long… you would usually be embarrassed, not want to give a man a bigger ego than he already had, but you had a feeling Minho was trying to get you to cum before fucking you and you wanted him inside of you as quickly as possible. If anything, you were doing him a favor.

“C-close, Min. ‘M really close!”

You could barely make out the muffled “already?” that came from him between your legs, but you still rolled your eyes anyway, half-tempted to push his head away.

He guided two of his fingers inside of you, giving you something to clench around as you came. The intention behind the action is what did it. He clearly cared about your pleasure which was rare to find in a partner, especially when said partner was a man.

You came almost instantly, catching Minho off-guard as if “I’m close” hadn’t been warning enough. He must have taken it as an advanced notice rather than an immediate head’s up. He grunted in surprise as you bucked your hips up into his face, but recovered quickly, helping you ride out the orgasm until you relaxed back on the bed.

He lifted his head finally, grinning like he’d just won the lottery, and sucked your arousal off of his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand shortly afterward.

“Good?” he asked.

“Really good,” you managed to choke out.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, take your pants off.”

Minho chuckled. “Should’ve known you’d only want me for my body.”

You pursed your lips but didn’t bother responding. You both knew that wasn’t true. Otherwise, why would you be risking everything just to fuck him?

Minho pushed himself off of the bed and shimmied out of his pants. As good as he looked in the gray sweats, you knew he would look even better with them off. And you were right. Even though he was still wearing his briefs, you could see the outline of his dick much more prominently. It made your mouth water and you sat up and shifted onto your knees to return the favor he had just given you.

Minho saw you reaching out for him but shook his head.

“I need to feel you,” he said, voice strained. “If that’s okay. I already almost came in my pants just from eating you out, I won’t last.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Not many men would admit to that.”

“Not many men would admit to getting off on making their partner feel good? You’re right.”

You watched as he picked his pants up off the floor and pulled a condom out of one of the pockets.

“Oh now you have a condom?” you teased.

“Look, I usually have them on me, I just didn’t that night,” he exclaimed in defense, the thin foil packet between his teeth. He ripped it open and pulled the rubber out, only pausing when you spoke again.

“You don’t keep them in your wallet, do you?”

“I do, but I change them out pretty often. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.”

With that settled, he slipped out of his underwear and rolled the condom on with ease. He joined you on the bed a moment later. You laid back and waited for Minho to position himself.

“Wait-” you whispered suddenly, having been so in the moment that you had almost forgotten. “Are you clean?”

Minho let out a sigh of relief, probably having thought something was wrong. “Yeah, I got tested like two months ago.”

“But the other night with that girl-”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I mean, I fully intended to, if I’m being honest. But I just… couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t get it up?”

“Something like that,” he sighed. “I probably should’ve asked this before going down on you, but you’re clean too, right?”

You nodded. “I get tested all the time and I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“That makes two of us.”

You looked at him expectantly. “You may… continue.”

“I’m surprised that didn’t immediately make my dick soft.”

“Oh, give me a break. My brain is still fuzzy from cumming.”

He snorted. “You’re welcome.”

“I can’t believe that didn’t immediately make me dry up.”

“I’m allowed to be cocky!” he protested. “I made you cum in, what, a minute flat?”

“It took longer than a minute!”

“I don’t know about that. I think we should check the replay.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “And that must really turn you on. ‘Cause last time I checked you were dripping onto the sheets.”

“I-” you had nothing. You squeezed your thighs around Minho’s waist, trying to coax him inside of you. “Just stick it in already!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he repeated.

You held onto his arms as he pushed himself in, sighing in relief at the fullness. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he was still sizable. You had to take a second to adjust to the stretch before he could start to move. He fit perfectly, at least that’s what it felt like. You were positive he could tell how much you liked his cock from the way you unconsciously clenched around him, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. If his ego inflated to the size of the moon after this, fuck it.

“Fuck, st-stop doing that,” Minho stuttered, pressing one of his hands against your hip to try and keep you still.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re, God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he hissed. “If you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

You took a deep breath and willed your body to relax. It had been so long since you’d been properly fucked and you didn’t want it to be over before it even started.

“Are you good to keep going?” Minho asked once he’d regained some semblance of composure.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, fuck please move.”

He leaned down to kiss you as he began to rock his hips into yours and you met him halfway. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and nipped at your bottom lip when you pulled away.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he confessed, voice raspy.

Baby was new. And it made you whimper in response.

“So goddamn tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”

Did he say this to every girl he fucked? Because it sounded like a line, but it was working like a charm on you.

As if he realized he was rambling, he busied his mouth in other ways. He kissed your neck, careful not to leave marks, before moving down to the valley of your breasts where he continued his work. The way he lowered himself onto you pushed his cock in even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible.

His lips were warm. They were so warm. Each kiss felt like you were touching the sun. You could feel the heat against your skin even as he moved away, pressing kisses elsewhere.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Minho asked.

You hadn’t even realized that you had been smiling, or that he had stopped kissing you. He was going faster now too. You hadn’t noticed that either. You were far too gone, clearly.

“Feels good,” was as much as you could manage, but that seemed to satisfy Minho.

“Yeah? Have I fucked you dumb already?” he cooed condescendingly.

You nodded. “Feels sooo good. Feel so full.”

You’d be embarrassed by your barely-comprehensible sentences, but you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure in that moment. You doubted you’d even remember what you said in the morning.

“You close again, baby?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fuck, me too. I’ll get you there, though. I’ll make you feel even better.”

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and used his thumb to rub somewhat uncoordinated circles on it. He was gentler than he had been before, like he knew you were still sensitive from cumming the first time. The added stimulation brought you back to the edge in record time and all you could do to alert Minho of what was happening was frantically grab his bicep and squeeze it repeatedly.

“Gonna cum? Go ahead, baby.”

Your entire body tensed as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. Minho fucked you through it again, announcing that he was cumming right as you started to come down. Watching his face scrunch up in pleasure as he came was almost enough to send you into a third orgasm. His eyes shut and his mouth fell open into an O shape as his hips faltered. He didn’t stop thrusting until he was certain he’d given you every last drop of his cum, choking out a string of curses followed by your name through gritted teeth.

He collapsed on top of you seconds later, completely spent and still inside of you.

“Fuck, that was good,” he panted. You nodded in agreement, wincing when you felt him pull out. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I can walk. My legs feel like jelly.”

“Would another orgasm help?”

“No,” you groaned. “I can’t take another one.”

“I was kidding. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and back to your room.”

“Nooo, I’m tired,” you whined.

“I know, I know,” he said softly, “but you can’t sleep here. Unless you want Jisung to find out?”

“Fine,” you mumbled. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear him moving around the hotel room. “Just give me like five minutes to nap.”

“You know I can’t do that.” When you opened your eyes he was wearing pants again and standing beside the bed waiting for you. “You need to shower. And pee. A UTI in the middle of vacation would really suck.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You knew that before sleeping with me.”

“Yeah, and I still did it anyway. Now, get up.”

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, repeating the sentiment you had already voiced. Minho just chuckled and helped you to your feet.

“You seemed to like that earlier.”

“Yeah, when you were making me cum.”

“Well, I won’t be able to make you cum anymore if you contract an infection. So I have to be bossy or else you won’t listen.”

“Or else you won’t listen,” you mocked.

Minho grinned despite himself and shook his head at you. “We should’ve started doing this way sooner.”

hope y'all liked this one :) lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

iou tags: @gimmeurtmi @phobia0325 @fwess @hipsdofangirl @galaxleeknow @urmomma0324 @bangmechanpls @102598s @farfromsugafanfic @ritzy-roo @dimpledsatan @bvselines @wonderfulshinee @imwithurmother @smollquokka @rosexjimin @skizzel @endzii23 @lady-lena @kwanisms @ch4nniebang @lilramennoodle @babyphotos0325 @dearalice @sojohns @mistlitmoonlight @yoontaethings @babebatter @mal-lunar-28 @shy-kisu @zerefdragn33l @downbadreading @sana-within-you @saquso @bunnispaces @reianagarcia @hyunehans @imtooyoungforthisshit @i8rsie @honeslykindahorny @214racha @hgema @chillllllli @vixensss @smhlino @feiyaa @borahae-reads @bigbearenergy @hoodiesandicedcoffee @darkacademic2512 @y00nzin0 @i8yul @shinypieceofgarbage @woozarts @just-a-little-delulu @djeniryuu @hbzzzbork000 @mimzibee @sofiaslayed @kangyounghyunhands @lexxxxs-things @baejinswrld @gaysontheprince @emogril @ngengngeng

add yourself to my taglist here!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi reader #stray kids series #lee know series #lee minho x reader #lee know x bi!reader #lino x reader

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hiramaris · 1 year ago

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Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 1

Summary:

A story revolving around the newly arrived resident farmer in the eyes of the personified perfection, the sunflower of Pelican Town herself, Haley. Or. When Haley finally met the person that caused ripples in what was once a stagnant town, and she didn’t know how to handle such massive change.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Notes:

Haley's heart events are just soooo wifey, especially after marriage. Her character development is well written off but I just can't help but notice that something is missing, like the heart events are just not that connected in some way. Stardew is an absolute gem don't get me wrong. I'd like to try and connect what I think is missing which is the reason this fic is created. P.S. Second try in making fanfiction. I apologize for any future grammatical errors or whatever. English is not my primary language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: None so far? Just Haley being her usual self

Gif from reddit.com

Winter 25

Immobile.

Stagnant.

Bland.

What words could possibly do justice to describe this sleepy town? Pelican Town had its charms sure. It’s peaceful, the air is fresh, and would never choke you on your sleep plus it gives a really nice tan so Haley wouldn’t really complain.

But it was just so... boring. Was that the right term?

The people are meh, nosy, and just as bland but they are good neighbors though don't get her wrong. They look after them— her and Emily when their parents can’t.

Ugh.

Them again. Thinking about them just makes her angry— blood boiling and all that, and well… sad which is infuriating.

How can you just leave your kids just to go follow your own dreams and travel? And then act like you care just by sending some half-hearted letter? Sending a letter now and then was hardly enough to make up for their absence. How low could that be?

Emily doesn’t think so. But what does she know? Her cooking was as bland as the town, and her obsession with crystals and hippie clothes was just plain ridiculous. She knows nothing.

Her sister is anything but pessimistic. She saw the light in everything whereas Haley ever saw them through the lens of her camera.

Capturing a single moment in a photograph was a thousand times more vivid and alive than the bleak and colorless reality she was currently living in.

She should be in college right now, pursuing her dreams, being the center of attention, and having boys falling over themselves to impress her. Or she would have been running her own photography studio by now in a city that never sleeps, schmoozing with some famous photographers and carving a niche for herself in the cut-throat world of photography.

But no, because here she was, stuck in a six-mile drive from the nearest city, life as directionless as the people in here.

Why am I even staying here? She wonders.

Oh, yeah— grandma.

This house is hers. Her house is the only thing that made her feel that Grandma is still here, with them. Even though Haley is talking big about leaving this town, she knew to herself that she doesn’t have the strength to just leave it just like that. Which is why they both tried to keep it tidy and well... avoiding it from falling apart.

Aside from that, there was nothing to do here. The only things keeping her sane were her camera, her phone, and the clothes she ordered online.

Oh, and of course, her best friend, Alex.

He's the only one— aside from Emily and of course, the Mullner residence, Granny and George are good people even though George is grumpy all the time, that she's able to have a decent conversation. She and Alex are, after all, not the sharpest tool in the shed, and shared almost the same brain cell.

He’s that typical jock boy, ripped as hell but in terms of brain, well… meh. Not like Haley's any better so who is she to judge?

They went to the same school, belonged to the same clique, and were both popular, of course. He’s here to practice his grid ball or whatever but Haley knew better.

Alex, despite being the dungus that he is, has a lot on his plate already. He needs the peace this town can offer.

And maybe, maybe I need it, too.

Maybe being away from the city has a good cause, despite her constant complaints, this town has been her home for the past six years after all.

But she just really couldn’t help but dwell on this stupid thought of hers of being stagnant and directionless at this time of the year.

Winter.

Ugh. It’s stupidly cold outside and there’s no way she’s walking in six-inch snow just to get a quality photo, which isn’t much considering the lighting outside does not satisfy her at all. The only, and probably one good thing about winter is peppermint coffee. It's hot, minty, and makes her feel warm while making her mouth worthy of being sucked on— err... that's a want that cannot be sated as of the moment.

The bachelors in this town suck for real. They are not even worthy of a single glance. Apart from Alex, of course, but he's a friend so... no.

And what's made it double suck is that she ran out of peppermint coffee. Pierre is out of stock and there's no way she'll let herself be caught alive inside that creep manager's store that runs Joja or whatever.

Now she's stuck sitting at the table, devouring a massive pink cake that could feed an entire family, enduring a coffee so bland it makes her want to try and drink tea.

She hates tea.

Oh yeah, she's also holding a note and a sunflower in her other hand.

She doesn't want to read the letter but considering the gifts she just received, it’s probably just the same lame-ass apology about being unable to be here on her birthday this coming Spring 14th. Not that it mattered anymore; it had been two years of absence, and she had grown used to it by now.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the note onto the table, debating whether to toss it into the fireplace or tear it to shreds or whatever.

If it's just another excuse, she doesn’t want to hear it.

"Haaaay!" And there's a familiar voice.

"If you don't have peppermint coffee with you I swear to Yoba—"

"What's the case, long face?" he quipped. "And no, I don't have anything with me."

She looked up from her cake, finding Alex strolling in their kitchen with one of his shit-eating grins, hair covered with a concerning amount of snow. She grimaced. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you."

He feigned a hurt expression. "I thought you loved me though."

"According to gossip, maybe but really, I don't," she deadpanned.

He cackled at the mention of that. At the center of the gossip mill passing down from Marnie, Jodi, and Caroline, maybe Robin, too, and probably all the yoga club, is he and Haley dating. Which was absurd, to be honest.

"No, really, Hay." He finally turns serious. "What's up? What's got your face looking like that?"

"It's just the stupid climate." Haley tried to lie. She didn't want to stir up drama at the moment. Alex frowned, catching up with her lie almost immediately. He caught sight of the letter Haley threw earlier. "Alex don't—"

Too late. He already got it. He sat down next to her as he read the contents of the note, his brows furrowing in what she assumes is annoyance. "Parents, huh? Same old, same old?" He raised an eyebrow.

Haley huffed and snatched the letter away. "Yes, the usual."

"Well." Alex propped his elbow on the backrest, a sly grin returning to his face. "I just got the perfect news that might take your mind off things."

Haley arched a perfect eyebrow, curious. Gossip wasn't his usual forte.

"Spill."

"A new farmer is coming to town."

Haley's fork paused in mid-air. "Uh... I'm not sure how to react to that, and what's so great about it?"

His smile widened. "I heard she's from Zuzu City."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Why? Surprised another Zuzu native is coming here?"

"No, you dungus." She slapped his hand attempting to take a slice of her cake. "I heard you correctly, right? You said the farmer's a she? A girl is taking over that farm?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed, finally snagging a bite of cake. Haley makes a scrunched face in mock disgust. "The farmer's a she. Old man Railey's granddaughter actually. What's the problem though?" he asked in mouthfuls.

Haley stood up to grab another spoon. No way she's getting his imaginary cooties. Alex doesn't seem to mind; it only further encourages him to eat some more.

"Because it’s weird," she said as she sat down. "Farming isn't exactly a girl's job, especially for a city girl like her. I bet you she wouldn't last a month."

"Not all girls are like you, Hay— ow! What's that for?!" He rubbed his ribs where Haley just nudged with her boniest elbow of all time.

"As I was saying before being rudely interrupted." She rolled her eyes. "Farming is all dirt and nasty, smelly clothes. That farm was barely run by old man Railey before he died. What could possibly a city girl like his granddaughter could do with that rundown farm? I bet you it’s already smoldering by now."

"Good point," Alex said as he continued eating. Haley swear to Yoba all this idiot does is eat and relax in here.

He has a diet, right? So does she, and they're like eating a fat block of sugar right now.

Whatever. Pink cake has always been an exemption from all her seasonal dietary plans.

"But I guess we'll have to wait and see; don't you think so?" Alex turned to her after a few moments of silence. "I heard she's around our age. If it's true that farming is as difficult as they say, the least we can do is make her feel welcomed."

Haley barely nods in acknowledgment.

This town is like a pond, where everything that enters stays and everyone already there remains. The city is a raging storm with ocean waves ready to swallow you if you go against the flow. A lot of people there has a sense of direction, one Haley aspires to have, and what Pelican lacks. You can't, at all costs, be still and unmoved and some people just couldn't do that.

And those people who couldn't stand the pressure, come here, like a moth drawn to a flame, seeking the mundanity Pelican Town could offer them. Perhaps they have grown weary of the constant hustle and bustle. Maybe city life has been too much. Maybe modern life has been too much for this farmer.

Who knows?

But one thing Haley doesn't like, and what keeps her unmoved and still, is change. Adapting, and adjusting isn't meant for her. It took years before she could finally settle a lifestyle in this town, and another two years of adjustment when her parents decided it would be a good idea to abandon them and go travel. She knew where to go, where townspeople go just so she could avoid interacting with them, she accustomed herself to their culture, and the perfect spots for taking pictures. She has it all memorized and planned out perfectly.

And this farmer will be an anomaly to her perfectly (not as perfect as she thought) crafted routine. New face, a new attitude, and just an overall new person she might be obligated to talk to for the sake of introduction.

Pelican is a stagnant pond, yet this farmer, this alien to her world, she's not yet even here but she is already starting to cause ripples.

And Haley doesn't know what to think of it.

~~~~~

Notes:

The title was inspired by Cigarettes After Sex' Kiss it off me. Their songs are such *chef's kiss* and whilst I was listening to this song, it kind of, sorta, reminded me of how my farmer sees her wife. Thus kabooOm this fic is born

Edit: Because I'm procrastinating and I made sure to finish off my other story first, I decided now to transfer this story from Ao3 to Tumblr

#stardew valley #stardew farmer #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew fanfic #stardew alex #stardew haley #sdv

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lollyposp · 1 month ago

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okay agatha all along episode 6 spoilers and also possibly absurdly outlandish theory incoming

i have a theory about lilia putting the sigil on billy. i assume she put it on him because she saw something that would endanger him if everyone immediately knew who he was and i initially foolishly assumed she was referring to agatha because you know. agatha is mildly unhinged after all

but I'm starting to think it's rio....because there's the theory going around that rio is death personified and honestly it makes so much sense. she can't kill agatha because death can't Kill others, it can only come when it's called. her power would kill agatha because it's a death domain power and either it's innate to her and only she can handle it, or you can only earn death related abilities a certain way. (also she's THE green witch. ashes to ashes and dust to dust etc every body returns to the earth)

in episode 5 she mentions that she hates ghosts which makes sense because she'd see them as perverting the natural cycle and clinging onto a semblance of life after death. so what on earth do we think rio would do if she knew that Billy's soul was possessing someone who's supposed to be dead? somehow i don't think it'll be pretty.

the sigil breaks at a weirdly specific point, too. it's after agatha kills alice, which means that rio is going to be preoccupied for a little while at least, giving billy and Agatha some time to discuss things. and if rio is death then agatha is likely the only person who knows that, and if we're getting technical the sigil only breaks once AGATHA concretely puts together that teen is billy.

lilia's divination works VERY weirdly, she's all out of time and often doesn't seem to remember her premonitions, but I would bet that the sigil was created with the knowledge that it would be broken once agatha specifically was the one to put the pieces together. because agatha knows rio and therefore she knows death. and we've seen already that agatha is VERY emotionally intuitive, it's what makes her so good at being a dickhead to others because she reads tells and emotional wounds so easily and knows exactly when she's hit a nerve. so i wouldn't put it past her to know Rio thoroughly enough to be the one to keep billy safe from her.

i just think the timing of the reveal is all very coincidental. not like, bad writing or anything, but the fact that agatha figures out it's billy AND has a whole emotional reunion with him with every other member of the coven missing feels a lot like Fate (which would probably come under lilia's domain). because now agatha and billy have an understanding of each other that will make it easier for them to walk the road together, but ALSO, nobody else knows. and agatha, who knows that rio is death and knows how rio feels about breaking the life-death cycle, can keep it a secret for him. she can protect him, even if he doesn't trust her.

anyway theory over but i swear to god billy and agatha better have the most lovely found family story arc. billy claims he doesn't need agatha but agatha has already adopted him in wanda's stead because she remembers being angry at the world like he is. oh and also she knows he does need her because death could be after him now lol

#agatha all along #agatha all along spoilers #agatha all along theory #agatha harkness #billy maximoff #rio vidal #lilia calderu #maybe im severely reaching but this makes sense to me #the scene where rio assumes agatha thinks teen is nick just feels off now KNOWING that agatha always thought he could be billy #so much of agathas behaviour is explained with the assumption she thought teen was billy to the point i don't think she thought he was nick #she hoped. but hoping isn't the same as suspecting. but then she's kept AWFULLY quiet about that around rio even with their truce

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calehenituse-brainrot · 4 months ago

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Faith

Kim Rok Soo; a conversation about faith.

"Do you ever think of believing in something before?"

Kim Rok Soo raised his head when the question slipped from their lips. It wasn't particularly an odd question, but it did give him a twinge of unease at the pit of his stomach. His dark eyes turned to them, and he saw a flicker of curiosity in their eyes.

When he stayed quiet for a second too long, they added for clarification, "Faith. Gods and religions and whatnot."

Rok Soo lowered his eyes from theirs. The question surrounding faith wasn't something he spent his time mowing about when they lived in an apocalyptic world where everything around them was despair personified. If he were to confess, the idea of a higher being existing and seeing all of this pain and not doing anything to stop it made him feel slightly bitter.

But then again, such an omniscient being can't possibly understand the pains of a mortal, smaller being.

"I don't..." Rok Soo began, choosing his words carefully. He noticed a gap he hadn't noticed before with this question and he didn't want to destroy the semblance of understanding between them that had been built over the years over the matter of faith. "I don't really do that."

"I see," they replied with a faint hum. "I'm sorry if that was something invasive to ask."

"Can't be invasive if there's nothing to invade," Rok Soo replied, taking a swig from his bottle of soju.

They let out a soft chuckle. "I suppose so."

There was a moment of silence that hung in the air between them before Rok Soo added slowly, "It's not that I haven't thought about it. I just... don't have that connection."

They smiled. "I understand. I struggle with it sometimes, too."

"You do?" Rok Soo raised an eyebrow.

They laughed when Kim Rok Soo leaned back in interest at their confession. "I do, yes. It's so hard believing in something you can't see or prove. I believe there's an analogy for it using teapots."

Rok Soo tilted his head. "Russell's Teapot."

They clapped their hands once. "That's it, that's the one!"

"I constantly think about it," they murmured quietly with a wry smile. "It's exhausting."

Another silence between them. Rok Soo didn't know what to do or say to respond to that admission. Was he supposed to tell them he's sorry? Reassure them that their faith is right and they shouldn't be worried when he himself does not hold onto a belief?

"If a god were to exist," Rok Soo began carefully. "It's hard to imagine that they'll understand us."

"That's the opposite of what I had been taught ever since I was young," they replied with a hearty laugh. "That whatever we do, our God will understand us, because He is a merciful God."

Rok Soo looked up at the ceiling and they simply looked at him with a smile. "Tell me."

Rok Soo looked back at them. "What?"

They leaned to him and then tapped at his temple twice with their finger. "Tell me what's in here. What you're thinking."

Rok Soo made himself comfortable on the floor, his tailbone slightly hurting. They had been sitting on the floor of the balcony of his apartment for a while now, their empty bowls of ramyeon stacked by his side and two empty bottles of soju between them both. The cool wind blew against his dark hair and their own, which made him turn to look at them properly.

"I think the idea of a god being perfectly loving, all-knowing, powerful, and everywhere present could not exist without contradictions," Rok Soo began quietly.

"Me too," they admitted with a wistful smile. "A loving God. Yet why does the devil receive no mercy?"

Rok Soo adjusted his position, suddenly interested in the mention of the devil. "You think the devil deserves mercy?"

"Only He could give it to 'em," they said, gesturing at the sky lazily. "Does that mean... even the worst of the worst could still not be forgiven?"

They look up at the sky. "Do you think... our comrades could forgive us?"

Rok Soo grew quiet. He suddenly dreads this conversation.

They chuckled in resignation. "God, who am I kidding? If a God can't even forgive me, then how can--"

"Enough." Rok Soo sighed. "The soju is getting to you."

"Maybe it is," they hummed, leaning to him and closing their eyes. "I'm sorry."

Rok Soo stayed in his position, holding onto his bottle of soju and looking at it thoughtfully.

"You know," they began softly to him. "I may struggle in believing in my God, but not you."

"Never you."

#trash of the count's family #cale henituse #cale henituse x reader #lout of count's family #kim rok soo #self indulgent #i think about gods and dead people too much lately #i promised my friend to do something for him #i kept stalling and now he's gone #i dont know how to cope #lmfaoo #i hope he doesn't get angry at me over it

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sunflowerhae · 3 months ago

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Ch. 6 Wattpad Fanfiction

“Love is the opening door, love is what we came here for, no one could offer you more..do you know what I mean? Have your eyes really seen,” you silently hummed the lyrics under your breath while cutting your brownies for your neighbor. To be honest, at first you weren’t sure why you needed him to like you. Jaemin - ever the wannabe therapist - suggested it might be a psychological response of needing strangers validation, due to your job. Giselle offered the idea that maybe you want more friends in your apartment complex. Both ideas, you have to admit, are sound arguments - and probably have a lot of truth behind them.

Once you really had time to think about why you need your neighbor to like you, however, you discovered it’s sadly much more embarrassing.

He’s cute.

And that’s really saying something, seeing as you only saw his eyes. In those two seconds the both of you locked eyes, a blush found its way onto your cheeks, and you were at a loss for words. Maybe that’s why you subconsciously found yourself cutting the brownies into heart shapes. Maybe that’s why you threw in some strawberries (also in hearts), why you double checked your appearance before stepping out the door, and why the blush once again finds its way to your face as you knock on his wooden door, anxiously praying that he really was just having a bad day initially and doesn’t have some personal vendetta against you.

God, you really need to get laid. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you recently. It’s like a title wave of ovulation symptoms passed through your system and you’ve been a walking love machine - waiting to find a lone victim to poor your adoration on. And almost like someone splashed cold water on your face, you suddenly find the situation you’re in at the moment completely ridiculous. Heart shaped brownies? Blushing cheeks? Walking love machine? What wattpad fanfiction did you just stumble into?

Just as you found it in you to laugh at yourself and turn to walk away, you hear the swinging of a door opening and feel a blast of cold air knock on the side of your body facing your neighbors door. Turning your body back around, you find yourself face to face with your now unmasked neighbor.

And God help you, he’s even hotter than before. Moles line his cheek like constellations in the sky. He has lush and full lips, puckered open just slightly enough to give him an air of innocence that drives you mad. And your favorite feature - his eyes - stare wide at you in curiosity and wonder, like the last possible thing he could have expected would be you at his door, but that he can’t wait to hear the reason why you’re there. He wore a huge, oversized black jacket with the hoodie pulled up and clear glasses wrapped around his face, paired with grey sweats and slippers. He looked like cuddling personified, to be quite frank. And it took you a solid minute to even join Earth long enough to realize you knocked on his door and stood there staring at him in silence. You felt like an idiot, and mentally kicked yourself before getting out, “sorry, hi! I’m your new neighbor, y/n. I know we briefly met the day I moved in, but it was so hectic we didn’t really get to talk. I just wanted to come over and introduce myself and give you a gift to say thank you for dealing with me moving in, and just to say hi and introduce myself!” You finished your ramble by practically shoving the container in his hands, and waited for him to say something..anything..back.

After a beat and a half of him just staring at you with an unreadable expression, he literally shook his head and a small smile appeared, along with an outstretched hand your way, “Thanks for the brownies, y/n!” You both shook hands, then stood again in silence. Should you leave? Should you invite him for dinner like you originally planned? You can’t even look him in the eyes, your own finding solace in just about any place other than his face.

“Sorry, what was your name again?” You finally settled on asking.

“Oh! Sorry, I’m ha-“

“Haechan?” A voice called out from behind you, and you both look to find one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen walking up behind you, a confused expression written on her face.

“Rin, hey” Haechan answered back, and you looked over at him, just to see him nervously scratching the back of his neck while looking between the two girls in front of him.

“Uhh, y/n, this is Karina. Karina, this is my new neighbor, y/n.” At the word “neighbor” Karina’s eyes went wide in almost shock, and she quickly bowed to you. You bowed back with a smile, before turning back to haechan.

“I won’t bother you anymore, but enjoy the brownies!” You rushed out, not letting anyone say a word before practically running back to the safety of your apartment, foregoing a brief thought to look back at the scene you just left.

Behind the closed doors of your apartment, you lay outstretched on the couch; Nala resting on your stomach and your phone tucked between your ear and the pillow.

“He has a girlfriend, selle,” you pouted, sad that your brief crush was interrupted by reality.

“Are you sure it was his girlfriend? Maybe they’re just friends.” Giselle had always been a rock for you, keeping you from flying away in the confines of your own imagination. Regardless of whatever amazing thing was happening in her life, she never lost time for her friends - you only hoped you could be there for her half the amount she was for you.

“Nah, you should have seen how they looked at each other. Plus he was hella awkward when she came up. I hope they don’t fight because of me..” you trailed off, getting distracted by the stressful thought of causing issues in your new neighbors relationship.

“Well it’s for the best, you shouldn’t be trying to get with your neighbor. That’s how you get kicked out of buildings,” you sighed, knowing how right she was.

“I know, he was just so cute.”

On the other side of the wall, Haechan was slightly freaking out. When he got to the door after the initial knock, he didn’t even bother checking to see who it was, expecting Karina to show up any minute. Needless to say, he was NOT expecting you on the other side. So you can imagine his surprise when he opens his door and his dream girl is standing in front of him, smiling and holding what looked like a container full of sweets. To him, it sounded like the start of many dreams he’s had, and for a good minute haechan was convinced he had been asleep. God does he wish he was, for now he believes - no, KNOWS - he just made a complete and utter fool of himself.

“I could barely hold a conversation, rin. I just stood there like an idiot - she had to ask me for my own name,” he mumbled out sadly, his head buried in his hands while he sits slumped on the couch. Karina sighed from her spot on the floor, books already skewed out in front of her as she silently waiting for him to finish pouting so they could study like planned.

“You didn’t make a fool of yourself, haechan. You just think you did because she’s hot. But really, she’s just a normal girl - and a sweet one, seemingly - so I doubt she’s reading into your reactions as much as you are.”

Haechan lifted his head with a sigh, sliding off the couch and down into the floor next to Karina, “yeah, you’re probably right. I just still can’t believe she’s right there. I mean, you’ve been in my apartment. I have her poster in my bedroom, rin. It still doesn’t feel real at all to me.” Karina patted Haechan’s back uncomfortably, not knowing how to console him, which made Haechan chuckle. He loved his friend, but he knew her strengths - and this definitely wasn’t it.

“It’s okay. I guess it was as fine as it could be. Let’s forget about it for now and just focus on our notes.” Karina hummed, happy that Haechan was moving on. She started talking about their chemistry notes, but honestly, Haechan zoned out. He was too focused on the brownies that laid in their now open container next to him. He focused on the fact that she made them into heart, for him. Not for some boy he thought she was dating. No, she took time to make them into a heart shape with him in mind. She tweeted about them, and was “manifesting” something about him. Y/L/N Y/N thought about him. And he couldn’t help but just smile in awe at that. He felt his cheeks go warm as it settled in him that he just met you. He just had a conversation with you. You know his name. And as he bites into a brownie, and a godly, goey, consistency flows past his tongue, haechan can’t help but think they’re even sweeter because you made them.

GG! (Good Game!) 👾

Notes: Haechan visual! Just imagine him standing in his doorway looking at you like this bro ur cooked. yay first written and boy is it long. And also not proofread! So if there’s any mistakes then womp womp

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meyousing · 2 years ago

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ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠, ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥: “i’ve tried to be tolerant, but your disobedience has reached a limit i cannot ignore.”

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: as the love of your life and possibly even your soulmate, you were bewildered and disappointed to find out that chrollo would take the troupe’s word over yours.

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: yandere chrollo x reader, manipulation and gaslighting, power imbalance, not necessarily a soulmate au just using the word for emphasis :) also uvo makes a dramatic appearance ONCE AGAIN… is this a sign that i should write something for him ??

Chrollo really is the love of your life. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do for you, no task too large, no matter at all what he would have to do to make it happen. It was only natural for him to keep an eye on your every move, an ear on your every word, to ensure you were being good. As dedicated and thieving as he was, he couldn’t just do everything for you while you rebelled and went against his wishes, where is the fairness in that?

You, blissfully ignorant on the other hand, were enjoying your time with Chrollo and his troupe immensely. He had done so much for you, spoiled you, and treated you like a princess, both before and after telling you the truth about his lifestyle. Not to mention that the troupe treated you like gold personified, and it didn’t even feel like favouritism just because you were the “Boss’ Girl.”

Machi had brought you stolen gifts before, like jewellery and expensive clothes because she thought you would like them. Of course, her ideas about what to pick had developed by watching and observing what Chrollo would bring you, though she would never admit that, simply replying that she only had a hunch you’d enjoy them.

The boys of the troupe (usually Phinks and Uvogin, but the others always backed them up with agreement) would ask about people from your time before meeting Chrollo, and if there was anyone who they would need to teach a lesson to. You would only ever laugh, thanking them for the offer of protection but telling them that nobody had ever wronged you enough to warrant that. Insisting that the offer still stands, they would leave the topic but never fail to keep bringing it up as the days went on.

You were very happy with your new life. Chrollo was a bit neurotic on the day that he decided to let the cat out of the bag, sporting a brand new look you had never seen in your time with him, explaining that you would be living differently now, you would travel with him and be by his side all the time, where you could have anything you ever wanted. Truthfully, the idea of spending the rest of your time beside him was already a lone factor to seal the deal, and he already spoiled you so much that you couldn’t expect anything to feel very different, with this just being a version of your relationship where you wouldn’t stay in one place.

The spoiling part was not ever what excited you though, it was simply Chrollo’s show of care and attention to detail that had you falling head over heels. Nobody else had ever spent so much time and given so much devotion to ensuring your happiness, finding items catered to your tastes and interests. His choosing to go the material route was in his nature, you personally never cared much for the finer or more expensive things in life, though after discovering Chrollo’s true nature it made much more sense to you now. Who were you to not indulge the interest of your beloved? You may have been happy, but it was a shame that the feeling was not mutual.

It was very early in the morning, earlier than what your new routine had you used to. You must have been jet-lagged, considering you had only been in your current location for a little over a day. Seated beside Shizuku, you watched and waited as she shuffled a set of cards, readying them to be passed out for you and a few of the others to play some rounds of Go Fish. With it being so early, you had awoken before Chrollo and decided to wander around the halls of your headquarters, to see who, if anyone else, was awake as well. You found yourself in what everyone decided was the main room, spotting Shizuku, Phinks, and Shalnark as they sat closely, cards already in hand. It was Shalnark who instantly spotted you peeking around the corner, asking if you would like to join them, saying that their game had barely started and they wouldn’t mind shuffling one more time. You gladly accepted, figuring a game or two couldn’t hurt as you waited for Chrollo to wake up.

You shifted your eyes between all three of them, watching over their varying expressions and trying not to giggle at Phinks’ visible show of boredom when picking up his cards. You knew that as much as he enjoyed spending time with everyone, his own interests were certainly directed towards more upbeat scenarios than ones like this, he must have been just as eager as you for Chrollo’s arrival.

“Is Boss up too?” he asked suddenly, tearing you from the small daydream you’d mustered up with a glance in your direction and verbal, indirect confirmation of your thoughts. You shook your head.

“We were talking about how jet-lagged we felt last night, he’ll probably be out for a few more hours.” you shrugged then, frowning down at the cards in your hand as you noticed just how fatigued your eyes felt.

“Guess it had the opposite effect on you then, eh?” he chuckled. You smiled with a chuckle of your own and nodded, not feeling too talkative as your tiredness started setting in now that you had acknowledged it.

“Are you guys ready?” Shizuku asked, scanning over each of you. Assorted nods were given, with an upbeat “yup!” of agreement coming from Shalnark. One more voice came in a moment later.

“Not quite, I’ll have to borrow Y/N for a moment.”

Everyone looked up, mutual surprise adorning your faces as Chrollo stood in the doorway with hands concealed in his coat pockets. You noted how he looked ready for the day, fully dressed with his hair styled as if it hadn’t taken long at all, as if you hadn’t only been in this room for maybe ten minutes.

“Coming” you murmured, smiling apologetically at the others before getting up to rejoin Chrollo. He began walking when you met his side, a hand finding your waist as he guided you back to your bedroom. You hadn’t looked at his face for too long since his appearance, and despite being a quieter man you felt that he was being uncharacteristically quiet now. Even the way he opened the bedroom door and gestured to you to go in first, face nearly blank once you looked up, despite the chivalrous act. He didn’t even respond to your thanks, the only form of a reply being his gentle slam of the door as you shuffled over to the bed and sat at the end. He joined you shortly, gazing at you with heavy lids that you couldn’t quite discern. Was he feeling…lustful? Or perhaps he was disappointed, maybe you had done something wrong? But what could you have done?

“Y/N, I’ve tried to be tolerant, but your disobedience has reached a limit I cannot ignore.”

Okay, it was the latter. You blinked in confusion, his words not reaching your brain in what should have been the right way (was there a right way? what did you do?) as you were sure that simply waking up and spending time with his troupe was not disobedient. If anything that should have made him happy!

“What did I do?” you asked, concern lacing your features as you hugged your knees to your chest, self-soothing since the look in Chrollo’s eyes was starting to unnerve you. He blinked slowly, his breath deepening as he began to sigh and his hands met.

“I heard you laughing back there. What was so funny?” His voice was relaxed.

“Nothing?” you frowned, unsure of what exactly he was talking about. Your tone itself was questioning, dripping with confusion, yet it was misinterpreted by Chrollo, likely as some kind of snark when you saw his expression fall further. He held off on speaking for a moment, instead taking his time as he held your hands and moved to face you completely. You couldn’t help but mirror him by squeezing his hands gently and letting your legs fall back down, his affectionate actions combined with such borderline accusatory words only muddled your mind.

“I understand that you may feel lonely when I join the troupe for the jobs that I assign them to. Do you think that gives you the right to try flirting with the other men while I’m away? Have you tried to seduce them into this very room?”

Your brows furrowed deeply.

“What gave you that idea?”

“You didn’t think that they wouldn’t tell me, did you?”

“Who?!” You clutched his hands a little tighter, completely bewildered not only by his claims but also by the idea of someone feeding these lies to him. Why would he take their word over yours anyway? Yes, this troupe has been with him since the beginning, but you had never deceived him before. You had no reason to start now. Perhaps you would have to voice this to him, considering his intensity had not let up yet.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters more is your indiscretions, and the painful thought that you assumed you could get away with them, right under my nose.”

Yes, this confirmed that you would have to voice your thoughts to him.

“But it’s not true! I’ve never deceived you before, why would I start now?”

“Do you think my own troupe would deceive me, then?” He sat stiff and his eyes widened impossibly so, boring into you with such a suddenly dark aura, it made you feel like you were shrinking beneath him.

“N-no, of course not” you nearly whispered, heartbeat speeding up when you realized your mistake, an eager urge taking over you to fix whatever mess you could have just gotten yourself into with a single, not so well thought out sentence. Caressing his wrist with your thumb, pressing your thigh to his, daringly reaching your other palm up to his face so you could press it into his cheek. Anything you could do to alleviate the sudden anxiety that you were feeling at the idea of being forced out of Chrollo’s good graces for something you never did. “I just want you to believe me, I would never–”

“Hey boss, I was–oh… you in the middle of something?” The door swung open unceremoniously to reveal Uvogin, whose expression went from casual to awkward. Tears rimmed your eyes at the sight, that feeling becoming mutual at the exposure of your current emotions and situation.

On any other day, you were certain that Chrollo would be unhappy that a troupe member barged into his room without knocking, let alone permission.

“We were just finishing up.” Chrollo stood then, exerting minimal effort to tear himself away from you completely and stand just a few feet away. You couldn’t help but keep your hands on him for as long as you could until he was entirely out of arm's reach, your cheeks burning in your own embarrassment when your limbs fell back into your lap with a thump. He faced you, keeping his back to Uvo and giving you the most gut-wrenchingly sweet grin. “Y/N will be staying in this room for a little while until she remembers the rules of our relationship. It’s upsetting that she forgot at all, perhaps this new schedule will clear her mind of such impurity.” Swivelling around on his heel, his back was to you now as he walked to the door.

Y/N will be staying in this room? He couldn’t be serious! You couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t think of any words to say, all you were able to do was shoot up from your spot and stay in place. You knew that trying to walk to the door would prove useless, as your anxiety had reached its peak and your entire body became numb, feeling like you were outside of it.

“Oh, shame. Hey, it’s for the best though.” Uvo patted Chrollo’s back, squeezing it and beginning to walk away with him, his other hand reaching back for the doorknob. Please, no!

With the rest of your body frozen, you could only move your eyes which were trained intensely on Chrollo, noting how as he walked out his face looked different from the way it was mere moments ago. He looked neutral and much less sarcastic, if not more on the side of smugness as a soft grin began upturning his lips.

The door slammed shut, made especially loud thanks to Uvo being the one to close it. The sound solidified the fact that Chrollo was leaving you, with an apparent visit inbound, but when? Collapsing back onto the mattress when your legs finally gave out from beneath you, you stared blankly at the ceiling. How could Chrollo have gone from so hopelessly romantic to disbelieving within mere moments? Everything had been just fine… yet a one-sided conversation was enough for him to make such a drastic decision. Your welcoming to Chrollo’s criminal lifestyle was done with ease, you had no problem turning a blind eye to your own morals because you fell in love with him, he was the love of your life. Perhaps what you truly fell in love with was not Chrollo, but a version of himself. One that was limited and crafted perfectly to your likes, wants to make you easier to control. Had you fallen for such a scheme so easily?

Overthinking proved to be good in only one way, it made you even drowsier than you already had been, so at the very least you could sleep some time away as you waited for your beloved to come back to you.

–

“I mean…you knew I wasn’t serious, right?” Uvo scratched at the back of his neck, his forehead wrinkling as he feared the worst, that he accidentally meddled in the Boss’ business, the Boss’ relationship, just for the sake of getting a few laughs.

“Of course” Chrollo chuckled, patting Uvo’s back reassuringly. “But your timing was rather convenient, she was starting to get a little too comfortable with getting her way. Best to remind her who’s in charge, you were simply the catalyst to allow me to do so.”

#✧meyou #✧musinghxhmasterlist #chrollo #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #phantom troupe #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh chrollo #hunter x hunter x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you

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dazedbypark · 8 months ago

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be my mistake | jjk

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre : bestfriends! au, hurt! au, angst

Summary : Jungkook was comfort personified. Your safe haven. Until you uttered the three words that ruined everything.

Song Companions :

Be My Mistake by The 1975

Warnings : none, except bad writing lol.

Word Count : 1.6k

Author's Note : This is my work since a very long time. It's quite similar to the one drabble I wrote last time, but there's just something about Jungkook and comfort that it keeps on inspiring me to write similar scenarios over and over again.

Please excuse the writing since it's been a while since I last wrote anything.

Beyond your windows, the lightning threatened to clatter to the ground. You watched it, the light almost blinding, before it went out all too quick. Counting the seconds, you waited so that you would feel the impact of it. And surely, it followed soon after. The ground reverberated with it - the cackling energy that it was hit with through the thunder.

The clouds piled high in the sky, moving with a rhythm along with the wind, which howled furiously into the lonely night.

You wondered, in this stormy weather, why did you only feel the presence of a haunting silence that filled your room?

It was the absence of a warm presence—the remnants of a resounding laughter—that you felt in your very bones. The eyes - which were the home of a galaxy of stars - were nowhere to be found.

All because of you. All because of your stupid mistake.

The mistake that now wouldn't let you get even a wink of sleep. The mistake that would follow you through your nightmares and the endless hours of the prolonging nights. It would sit with you, up until your very last breath - until you set it right, in this lifetime or the next. Which you doubted was possible.

The tears threatened to fall again, but you blinked them back. Was there even a point in lamenting further?

But the hollowness in your chest said otherwise, because it had consumed your entire being. You were nothing but a shell of all that had been - a shell of all the possibilities you had ruined.

Your sole confidant was out of your reach, and you had to wallow in your misery all by yourself. It was quite lonely this way without him - for he had been there for everything. Everytime you hit rock bottom, he was there. Everytime you celebrated your tiniest achievement, he was there. For the good and the bad, he had stood with you like a rock - comforting you always by just his mere presence.

"Y/n?"

Your eyes widened. No, that couldn't be. That must have been a figment of your imagination, for he couldn't be here now. Not after all that you had said.

As if on cue, you then heard soft footsteps approaching, dimmed by the pattering of the rain. You knew the rhythm of them by heart but couldn't comprehend why they were towards your crouched form on the bed - your chest hugging your knees. So, he really was here.

After everything, he still sought after you.

But then again, you were his best friend. It was not in his nature to leave you alone - not when he knew there was a storm of hurt raging inside you.

You couldn't stay still. Wanting to see that your brain had not been playing tricks, you risked a glance, not caring that he would glimpse your eyes that were puffy with sorrow and see that grief had consumed your entire form. You never had to care - not when it came to him. Because he would already know, for he understood you like nobody else.

"J-Jungkook?"

There it was. The sound of his name that felt all too familiar on your tongue. It was oh so sweet, and too painful to say at the moment.

Jungkook stood there at the edge of your bed. His form was barely illuminated in the darkness of your room, but you could still make out his face. His hair was dripping wet from the rain. You could see his clenched jaw, the curve of his soft lips, the slope of his nose, and his eyes. They were dimmed of their usual light, but they shone with a storm of incomprehensible emotions - all seeming to contradict each other. His hands were fisted at his sides, as if he had to put effort into refraining himself from doing something. Perhaps comforting you, like he always had.

Jeon Jungkook, your human form of comfort and warmth, stood right before you. Yet, never had he felt so distant, so out of limits as he did in this moment, regarding you with guarded eyes.

"Jungkook?" You called out again, not sure what to do. There was a heated debate of your body - which needed him to hold you impossibly close, with your mind - which was trying to knock some sense into you, that he possibly wouldn't even want to stay in any proximity with you.

He sighed in response.

The faint smell of rain and Jungkook wafted through the room—a scent that had been your favourite all these years, and calmed you like nothing else.

"Come here, Y/n."

In his voice, you found reluctance - a hint of hesitance as his eyes flitted from your damp cheeks to your wet lashes. They emphasized the very mess you were.

You merely shook my head. "I-I cannot possibly d-do that, Jungkook."

"Y/n, please." The desperation in this voice slipped through, and you saw the raw pain painted across those black orbs.

"You know that we are in no position to be in each other's company at the moment, Kook." It was the very truth that you had been refusing to accept the past few hours.

It was this truth present amidst the both of you that had put the distance between you two. It had created this rift between the two of you. You could see it in the way Jungkook refrained from doing his usual thing with you.

The newfound distance only twisted the knife of pain and dug into your wounds further.

But ignoring all of it, Jungkook continued to communicate his request silently , holding your deterring gaze.

"No, Jungkook. I-I cannot." You cowered into yourself as a fresh wave of sorrow flooded through you. You were responsible for this mess you had put the both of you in.

Your stupid, messy feelings.

Stupid emotions that overtook all your senses, and the stupid stutter of your heart everytime he looked into your eyes. This utterly stupid love that you had for him, that consumed your entire being every second that you breathed.

"Y/n, you don't have to do this to yourself. We are fine - we'll continue and stand through this together, like we always have."

"No, Jungkook, we can't," you argued.

"Why not?" His brows furrowed, forming that tiny knot between them. You brushed aside the desire to kiss it away.

"It's not fair to me nor you. You know that very well."

There was no point in carrying this any further - not when Jungkook would always be careful with you now that he knew. The very essence of your dynamic was lost the moment you said those three words. The pair of you were meant to be platonic, and nothing further. Only because of that did Jungkook communicate so freely, and laid his heart bare before you.

"It's only continuing what we have always had. I need you, Y/n." His voice inched towards breaking, and you knew you were pushing him towards the edge.

"Don't say that." Your voice was just above a whisper.

Jungkook looked utterly stricken. All the colour drained from his face, as he gazed at you with widened eyes.

The thunder struck in the distance once more, and the room shook a little as an aftereffect.

"Y/n, do you mean to say that we can't continue this any longer? Do you mean to say that-" He took a sharp breath.

You smiled wrly. The damage had already been done. What could a little more hurting do?

"Yes, Kook." You looked up at him, then. Beautiful—that's what he was. He stole your breath even now, and the hollowness in your chest felt more prominent as you weighed the possibility of not seeing him again that happened to linger in the air - in his unspoken words. "I can't do this any longer."

"Y/n, you can't - you won't just give up on this, right?" Jungkook leaned towards you as desperation gnawed at all his clean-cut edges to tear him apart - ripping his heart into pieces. "Don't make that mistake, Y/n. You-you can't do this."

It was all evident in his eyes: the losing battle that he was fighting - the one you wanted him to win. But that would only result in your eventual doom and put you back into that place of agony as you had experienced all these years.

"What you are asking of me is very selfish, Jungkook. I can't stand a second more with the fact that you are not mine, that we will always be just friends."

There. There you put out your most innermost thoughts for Jungkook to see. You laid your heart bare before him, once again.

He looked conflicted then, that battle from before still evident. But there was a defeated slouch to his shoulders, because he knew then that there was nothing he could say to tackle this.

That your decade long friendship was going to end, just like that.

"I understand." He looked into your eyes and held your gaze.

You raked your eyes throughout his face and memorized every detail of him. You committed the faint soapy, laundry-like smell of his to your memory, knowing it would never invade your senses after this.

"Goodbye, Kook." You managed a smile.

He looked at you then - really looked at you, as if seeing you for the very first time and perhaps the last time. He didn't return your goodbye nor your smile, but merely acknowledged it with a nod and just walked out of your door - out of your life.

And as he went, he left you as an empty shell. Leaving you with nothing but the fragments of him that you would make sure to cling onto all the years that would follow.

The remnants of the smell of rain and Jungkook lingered in the room, that without him, made this room all the more suffocating.

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dakaneeee · 3 months ago

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SANDZAK HEADCANOND

HEY CHAT GET PREPARED FOR SANDŽAK HEADCANONS OR MORE SO JUST CANONS BECAUSE I MADE HER UP LOL

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

1. Her human name is Emina Avdić. Avdić is just a common name from the area, though Emina was shamelessly stolen off of Šantić’s poem of the same name.

2. Relationship wise she is in the same spot as Srpska, which means everyone sort of finds her annoying except one person, but even then it’s a love hate relationship, that other person being Enis. She does love him but he might find her as a bit of a bother, I don’t think Herze would mind her much though.

3. Speaking of Enis, she’s more conservative and more religious than he is (tho that’s not a hard thing to beat, he’s basically secular)

4. She does look up to him, probably as a kind of islamic father figure (because uncle Turkey doesn’t care about her anymore) but i think she realized he isn’t as serious as she is about this whole Islam thing

5. She kind of dislikes everyone around her quietly, like they all know about it but she isn’t screaming it out as most of them are.

6. She shows that hate in little actions, or just by being straight up unpleasant

7. I have yet to decide wether she lives with Montenegro or Serbia? I guess both, maybe she just switches around if the other gets too annoying to deal with. Im edging to just say Serbia because then she’d be the opposite of Srpska but we’ll see

8. Typically they both make her do chores around the house, Monte especially, because it’s “a woman’s job to do so”, Vuk cares less.

9. Sometimes she does visit the BiH household though, she probably prefers staying there rather than with Serbia or Montenegro but I don’t think they let her go often

10. She might get along with Kosovo, fuck they might be related because of the Albanians that came to Sandžak in the past

11. Taller (~175 cm?)

12. Long legs and slim figure, typical beauty standard especially because she’s blonde

13. She wears converse, it’s all she ever wears in modern day LOL

14. She always has her white headscarf on, it’s like her distinguishing feature

15. Tho in general she typically wears lighter clothes, possibly with red accents.

16. Heterosexual most definitely

17. She doesn’t get laid anyways she’s too proper for that

18. Her and Srpska are around the same age (so I guess similar to Kosovo and Vojvodina in physical age as well?), they both appeared at the start of the Ottoman period

19. she was just quickly adopted by Turkey and kept safe like that

20. During this time period she was mostly shielded by him, though in the 1800s she met Ilija for the first time after he was islamized fully and most likely became a janissary. To keep it simple they dated and were smitten with each other

21. It’s true that janissaries actually couldn’t get married or well… date, though at this time the janissaries did start breaking the rules and rebelling against the sultan, so it could personify that

22. They fell apart after he ran off to start his own uprisings, she just felt betrayed

23. To this day she reminds me of all the glory he lost, so they basically hate each other now 💔

24. Tho, „Emina” by Šantić was also probably Srpska talking about her

25. She’s the reason he became an incel

26. She has a silver ibrik (same one mentioned in the poem haha) which she uses to beat people with when it’s full of water, mostly Montenegro and Serbia.

27. Chronically offline, she doesn’t know what a tik tok is

28. She loves reconnecting with nature whenever she’s upset

29. In fact she wants to live by herself, but she’s too poor to afford anything so she’s stuck with the two idiots for now

30. She likes gardening i feel

31. She appreciates ethnic music over anything else, buttttttt I think she’d also like Zabranjeno Pušenje

32. She prefers being outside, not in the city way but in the villager way

33. Not shy, just aggressively introverted, in the meaning that she pushes people she doesn’t know well away, in the literal sense probably

34. She plays sudoku :DDDDDDDD

35. Very clever and probably kicks ass at chess also

36. Fluent in Bosnian and Turkish, probably knows some albanian, arabic a teeeenyyyy tiny bit also

I might expand on her relations with the others furthermore, especially srpska cause i didn’t give their lovestory justice

Good night chat

#yugotalia #balkantalia #aph sandzak

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lumdays · 7 months ago

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"cause you could be the one that i love"

a jade leech x izuku midoriya one-shot 😨

idea from @quartztwst 💥💥💥

trope: uuuh mutual pining+childhood friends to crush to maybe lovers when they maybe have the balls to ask eachother out

warnings: english isn't my first language so watch out for grammar errors 😞, jade being cringe (when is he not), lack of azul ashengrotto but it's only because he's actively avoiding downbad jade, jade being the bubonic plague personified, floyd using slang because he does, MY HERO ACADEMIA, strange mha x twst crossover in which quirks are unique magics cause i hate calling a super cool power a QUIRK, BAD WRITING!!!!!!

"and i become hypnotised by freckles and bright eyes, tongue-tied"

jade loved izuku. a shocker to no one but him, apparently.

"whaddya mean how'd i know about you like-liking sea sheepie?" his twin brother floyd drawled, "you ain't slick, that's how."

"stop asking me strange questions on your shift, jade." azul gave him a flat look before readjusting his glasses, "but if you must, i'd say i realised your... feelings for midoriya when you tried to name another one of your mushroom dishes after him for the third time in a row even after i denied your submission the first and second time."

it was an unexpected realisation but not one he found that surprising—now that he thought about it, he had always loved izuku. not the way he loved him now obviously but even when they were younger, he had always appreciated him some way somewhat—whether it was for his notebooks filled with almost scarily accurate and detailed information about famous mages' unique magics, his funny little quirks, the astounding determination and strength laying dormant within him, the cleverness he displayed in difficult situations, his optimism, his laugh, his smile, his freckles, his green eyes akin to grass, to leaves, to seaweed, to sea glass and to well, jade.

he sighed as he leaned over the counter of mostro lounge in a particularly dramatic way, woe is the poor eel who fell head over heels for a human, right? though he imagined it wouldn't be so bad if said-human loved him back. they could hang out like they used to at takoba bay, except they'd call it a date this time.

he started spacing out at the thought of izuku and him, holding hands, under the shade of an umbrella on the beach, laughing, swimming, him diving under the water and dragging the smaller boy with him for a few seconds, maybe kissing—

"ow!" jade whipped around to glare at his brother, who was giving him a dirty look—as if he had been the one to kick him in the shin.

jade shot him a pointed smile, "what could that possibly have been for, brother dearest?" floyd rolled his eyes as he turned away, "dunno, maybe for being a cornball in public??" he cackled, loud and mocking, as jade threw an empty bottle at him, his aim a bit off—enough to miss his twin's back as he slipped back in the kitchen. he could already hear azul berating him for this—for daydreaming on shift or for throwing a possibly harmful item, missing floyd and it hitting the wall instead, he didn't know yet.

throwing possibly harmful items at others and missing... that reminded him of his and izuku's first meeting, though he hadn't meant to throw anything at anyone with his projectiles... the first time, at least. he smiled giddily.

truly, how lucky and fortunate jade leech was to be able to love izuku midoriya.

——————————

"feelin' like a face in the crowd, i'm reaching for you, terrified"

izuku loved jade. he loved, jade. his childhood friend, the eelmer, the sneaky bastard with a silver tongue (endearment), the obscenely tall, nice (to him at least), caring (derogatory), sweet (questionable claim) guy named jade. he sighed into his palms before looking up and staring at a picture of them he stuck on the wall a few years ago, jade had been gushing about a new species of mushroom he had found on one of his hikes when his mom snapped it. he, on the other hand, had been... looking at the other boy. no, that wasn't the right word to describe the look in his eyes then—he had been admiring him. how could he not? the merfolk was so passionate when he talked about something he truly loved... he wondered if he would talk about him that way if they ever—oh.

this was bad, this was really really bad. he couldn't let this happen, but surely he could fix this some way somewhat, right? he racked his brain for a way to cover this mess up, he wasn't a good actor, he couldn't even entertain the idea of pretending he doesn't love him because that would only result in jade teasing him to death—which would be a really pathetic death, even for him. he couldn't avoid him either—that was simply impossible, one because he doesn't actually want to stay away from him and two because he knows for a fact that if he tried doing that, jade could and absolutely would find him and force him to talk to him again.

he flopped down on his bed to roll around on his mattress in self-pity, if it had been a passing crush like what he had felt for uraraka in his first year then maybe he could've ignored the pull—but the tide was clearly stronger than him this time, and the depths of his feelings was scary. the honesty this love would cost him terrified him. he shook his head, how hypocritical of him to fall for someone who could force the truth out of him anytime any day.

after a few more weeks (a month or two) of agony, he admitted defeat. there was no way to escape this, izuku would have to face his feelings, he would have to face jade.

and so he would, he would reach for his hand and it would be up to jade whether he'd take it or brush it off.

...he would rather if he took it though.

also scraps LOL:

though izuku would like to say so, jade hadn't always been his friend. with him running after katsuki and jade doing god-knows-what with his brother under the sea, they really had had no reason to meet when they were children.

until they did, and well, saying it hadn’t been the friendliest first meeting was an understatement.

they were both 10 when they first met, it was winter—just a little while before christmas. izuku had been looking for seashells or pretty rocks to gift his mom while narrowly avoiding the growing amount of trash on the surface of takoba bay's once beautiful shore.

jade, on the other hand, had been grudgingly dragging plastic bags to the surface—he was on cleaning duty that day. 'cleaning duty' mainly consisted of finding human junk in the sea and putting it back to where it came from—land. the little eel thought that cleaning up after others—especially complete strangers—was mind-numblingly boring, but kept quiet while his twin brother floyd complained, rather loudly, for everyone and anyone within reach to hear.

instead, he vengefully threw empty cans and other items like soggy shoes towards the beach. honestly, how unfair was it that he had to pick up some random landdwellers' trash? he didn't tell them to throw their junk in his home, did he? he kept on throwing stuff until one of his projectiles didn't meet the sand but a little boy's face.

in his defence, it had been an honest mistake—he really hadn't meant to throw a dirty swimsuit at someone's head.

——————————

jade wouldn't ever want to tell anyone he had always been izuku's friend, he thought that would undermine everything they went through together—which would be a shame, truly. their bond was really precious to him as it is something he earned—it was not natural like his and floyd's nor was it born out of mutual benefit like his and azul's. it was something that grew with them and soon enough tied them together like an invisible string. he thought that their relationship was fine just like that, more than fine actually.

but it seemed as though he was the only one who felt that way, that strongly.

the eel listened as izuku talked about a classmate, he then watched as izuku walked with a boy and a girl on the beach. he kept on watching and listening as the smaller boy grew away and apart from him—still, they were friends, so izuku kept visiting him. but it felt different, now that jade knew the boy treated him like every other friend he had, he felt... a bit of everything all at once. he was happy his friend had a lot of friends now, really. he was also maybe a bit jealous of how many friends he had too. or maybe it was that he was jealous of the friends because of how much time they got to spend with him? he wasn't sure. he also felt fear, fear that maybe izuku would leave him again, but to bask in the presence of others this time.

he hated that idea.

#definitely took longer than an hour or two sorryyyyyy #jade leech x izuku midoriya #jade x izuku #twst #mha #jade's is shorter than izuku because idk ig it's harder to write an eel-dude #but the quality of jade's is better #what have i done #if this was on ao3 i would've posted this with the tags The Author Regrets Everything+The Author Regrets Nothing #look up sea sheeps they look exactly like deku i swear #jeiku #??? APPARENTLY??????#twst x mha

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oiblackestsheep · 6 days ago

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Hooooy! MBTI types as movies? :D

HELLO, and thanks for waiting so long for me to do this 😭 I literally typed all the movies like a million years ago and just haven't had any time to put together the little analysis blurbs but I'M HERE NOW SO LETS DO IT.

Also sidenote: I am notriously terrible for remembering the full plots of movies (and don't watch a ton of movie in general) so if anything seems off in these analyses (aside from the fact that I tried not to go FULL STEREOTYPE), I would bet it is more of a problem with remembering the movie than it is understanding MBTI, but hey, what do I know lmao

MBTI Types as Movies

INTP: The Matrix

The GOATed movie for the GOATed type, what can I say. LMAO, just jokes, just jokes on both accounts. I mean, they're both great, but you know, I mean no offense. Still, I think this fits well because you spend so much of the movie how things work in the Matrix because the rules of reality start getting wonkier the more they investigate. Ti loves figuring things out and Ne is all about things being new and/or different, so it was an easy pick. Maybe a bit stereotypical, but hey, at least it wasn't Lord of the Rings or Star Wars (also great movies, but come on, it's been said a million times, we gotta shake it up a LITTLE).

ENTP: Jurassic Park

Watch the scene where Dr. Ian Malcom tells everyone "you were so preoccupied with whether or not you could that you didn't stop to think if you should" and TELL me this isn't an ENTP movie lmao. Jurassic park is ALL about how new and interesting of a possibility modern-day dinosaurs could be, and they had the Ti and science to back up their ambitions. And also the tert Fe to decide to make it a theme park I guess? Lmao, it's like, okay, sure, kinda weird, but I GUESS people will like it.

INFP: Scott Pilgrim vs The World

The movie is very Fi portraying Scott's life because you can feel just how everything is so personalized and tailored to his lifestyle and preferences that even things like his band feel like an extension of himself. The same goes for the other characters in the band too; even minor characters have so much individuality with such little screentime, which appears very Fi-dom to me. And also just like, cartoon + anime logic to fight Ramona's evil ex's is such an Ne premise because of how different and sometime random it is - I love it. Sidenote: Scott Pilgrim Takes Off on Netflix is a super good miniseries!

ENFP: Inside Out

A fun and zaney way of expressing your own personified emotions that all interact with each other and are interwoven with your real life struggles and choices? Can that get any more ENFP if it tried? Not to mention that people have taken to creating their OWN versions of their primary emotions, too. Explain to me how Bing Bong could ever exist without a massive super dose of Ne, lmao.

INTJ: Dune

A futuristic sci-fi universe with complex and realistic political unrest, economic corruption, and ecological issues to demonstrate examples of the abuse of power all wrapped up in one big collection is like the epitome of an INTJ and dominant Ni to me. As silly as this might sound, I really did NOT follow this movie super well, even though it SOUNDS like it should be up my alley as an INTP, and that in part lead me to think it might be more of an INTJ movie. It's got a lot of the same ingredients, but you can tell it's just built different because of the massive world-building.

ENTJ: The Truman Show

I would say the premise of staging Truman's entire life with the expectation that it will persist all the way into his old age as a way of capitalizing on it for profit and TV show ratings is a pretty Dom-Te, Aux-Ni, ENTJ kind of thing to do. A BAD ENTJ thing to do, but ENTJ nonetheless. Everything that happened to Truman had an intended purpose, which was to keep audience engagement with the show. I COULD see an argument made for this being an ENFJ thing, but I decided ENTJ because at the end of the day, they cared more about and prioritized the boons to be gained from continuing the show, not necessarily the emotional reactions of Truman, themselves.

INFJ: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Probably my favorite movie of all time (if you couldn't tell, I really like Jim Carrey) has to go to INFJ. This movie really takes you so far into his head, and really captures what it is like to be doing that dom-Ni thing of looking for and assigning symbolic meaning to things (often times other people's thoughts and actions), especially in such a way that can be dangerous, and seems to be a major cause of both main characters' debilitating depession and self-confidece issues. Not to say all INFJs are like that, of course, but a lot of the themes that come up in this movie are great examples of just how wrong things can go with unhealthy Ni-Fe.

ENFJ: Gone Girl

Similar to ENTJ, Gone Girl has some very potent ENFJ vibes, again, also BAD ENFJ vibes, but still ENFJ vibes. The main antagonist really shows off all of the classic techniques for emotional manipulation via Fe, and the seamlessness of it all as she consistently remains one step ahead of the protagonist the entire time really demonstrates the forthought that can come with Ni. Sometimes she is so far ahead of the protagonist, he even has a hard time decifering what she is even planning to do next, or the intended outcome. ENFJs being Fe-doms lends themselve to still be outcome-driven like ENTJs, but here, the intended outcomes are emotionally and socially colored.

ISTP: Good Will Hunting

The ISTP gets all the glory for being aloof, and dangerous to mess with, and that isn't NOT present in his movie, but what they DON'T get enough credit for is their capacity for an impressive intellect. ISTPs are Ti-doms just like INTPs, so it should follow that they have incredibly logical and curious minds that have an aptitude for understanding how things work - that's a big plot point for our protagonist who solves the infamously difficult equation on the chalkboard, only to find out that he isn't stuff academic like everyone EXPECTED him to be. Grounded by his Se, he even mocks students attending the university for spending so much money on their education, when he has learned just as much for free with his library card. Raw intellect with no fluff (and no fucks to give) is ISTP through-and-through.

ESTP: Catch Me If You Can

Read the book for a school project back in the day and loved it. The quick thinking-on-the-feet to be able to bullshit his way through so many different scenarios, pretending to be a pilot so well that they PUT THE GUY IN THE COCKPIT is absolutely wild to me. This might also touch a fair bit on what developed tertiary Fe can get you if you abuse it a bit too much. I could see an argument made for higher Fe placements too, but I attributed a lot of his ability to say the right things and adapt because a lot of times, he did not seem like he had much of a detailed plan going in, which sounds a lot more dom Se to me.

ISFP: Titanic

Instant classic and based on a true story, which I think really appeals to Se (same for ESTP above, actually!), and is a big reason why I picked it. Overall, a pretty introverted and definitely emotional story because it mostly focuses on the developing relationship between the two main characters and, of course, the tragedy, too. It's such a personal story that does a good job of bringing you into the first person perspective of the main character's feelings and experiences from start to finish - it can be a bit visceral, even. I know it's a romance, but I REALLY didn't want to be like "mushy isfp? idk romance i guess", so hopefully this lands well.

ESFP: La La Land

Ahh, La La Land. Similar to the ISFP and Titanic in that it is still a very personal story that zeros in on the emotional experience of the main characters to the relationship and how they feel about it, but with a lot more sensory stimulation, and intoxication - and not necessarily even alcoholic intoxication, but like, infatuation with life experiences that they get to share with each other and assign their personal value to. Also kind of tragedy in it's own way since it doesn't end since they don't end up together, and despite all of the highs and experiences they share, and despite how much they love each other, but they each have their own vested personal interests that they want to achieve even more.

ISTJ: Indiana Jones

Thought Indiana Jones would go to ISTP, did you? Surprised? It's not that it COULDN'T be an ISTP movie, it's just that Jones constantly talking about how much things belong in museums just REALLY screams ISTJ to me. It just seems way more dom Si to be that passionate about preserving artifacts so that you can study them, reference them, compare them, etc. forever and ever. Not to mention he's got that tertiary Fi that gives him a soft spot and a vested interest in protecting those artifacts. He takes the protection of the those artifacts very personally in a way that I wouldn't expect to see from an inferior Fe user like an ISTP.

ESTJ: Men in Black

The only thing separating this movie from just being a straight up FBI movie is the aliens; most everything else is pretty familiar and grounded in reality. They've got their FBI protocols and directives and a clear objective that is their job: contain the aliens. These attributes make it very Te-Si to me because they work in teams to accomplish their goals, and they do their best to stick to their codes and procedures (and ofc they break them sometimes because it's a movie it has to be exciting). Throw in some wacky stuff like aliens to please the ESTJ's tertiary Ne's craving for a little random fun, and you've got the MIBs.

ISFJ: Groundhog day

Constantly reliving the same day over and over again, having the same conversations with the same people, sometimes getting the same results, and sometimes getting different outcomes by making different choices sounds like an ISFJs inferior Ne kind of personal hell, but it does sort of cover most of the ISFJ experience, even if it's in a difficult context. Special shout out to the montage of Bill Murray killing himself like 100 times because he doesn't know how to break the cycle and is tired of having the same conversations with everyone. It cracks me up every time and seems like very tertiary Ti logic to me lmao

ESFJ: Little Women

Loosely based on a true story, period piece that focuses on the protagonists' relationships with each other (many of them sisters), as well as their places in society, also many of which end up growing into very DIFFERENT roles in society so as to contrast them as they age. This is especially interesting (and also Si lmao) when you take note that you see how they all started out on similar life paths as full-blooded siblings growing up in the same home. Great story, very dom-Fe for comparing some many different relationships that interweave and change over time.

#mbti #mbti types #mbti personalities #mbti personality types #16 personalities #ask #tigreblvnc #intp #entp #intj #entj #infp #enfp #infj #enfj #istp #estp #isfp #esfp #istj #estj #isfj #esfj

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weirdestbooks · 4 months ago

Text

Hello! My name is Ailbhe Saoirse (or Weird). This is my writing blog where I keep all my books and oneshots. My main blog is @weirdestarrow, my ninjago sideblog is @weirdestninjago, and my countryhumans sideblog is @weirdestcountryhumans

I take requests (although not smut) so if you have something you think I should write, shoot me an ask!

I also love helping out other writers so if you ever want some writing advice or to ask about my process in writing, feel free to ask or DM me and I’ll answer your questions the best I can.

If you are interested in any of my headcanons, I have a website that explains many of them if you want to check that out, or shoot me an ask, I'd love to explain.

Table of Contents

Historical Countryhumans Books

Secrecy and Deception: The Cold War. Over 50 years of battles fought between two ideologies, sponsored by the two most powerful countries in the world. On one side, the United States of America and capitalism. On the other side, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. And in this standoff of nations, war is not an option. But still, only one can remain. (Countryhumans Cold War)

The Consequence of Loyalty: When Kentucky was sent to the Philippines to prepare for a possible Japanese invasion, he did not expect to enjoy it. However, as he got closer to the Phillippines and when he was eventually ordered to flee, Kentucky was forced to decide between following orders and staying behind to defend the Phillippines for as long as possible. (Countryhumans World War 2 in the Philippines)

The Occupation [On Hiatus, will be uploaded when Hiatus ends]

The Shot Heard Around the World: Thirteen Colonies loved his Father, but after the Seven Year's War, he wasn't sure if his father felt the same way. His Father just needed to listen to him. If he didn't, well, Thirteen and his Father weren't going to be on the same page. Or be a part of the same empire. Because Thirteen could only take so much before he would take drastic action himself. (Countryhumans American Revolution)

A Civil Disagreement: North v South. Free State v Slave State. States Governments v Federal Government. For being a country holding the name of United, America was anything but united. The states still stuck together though. That is until December 20, 1860. The bloodiest fight the Union has ever had is about to begin. (Countryhumans American Civil War)

Dominion of New England: In 1686, Britain decided it was time to unite some of the colonies in New England into a dominion under his control. This is the story of that dominion, the Dominion of New England. (Countryhumans History of the Dominion of New England)

Forget Them Not: The Great Countryhumans Archive: In a world where countries are personified, an organization called the Countryhumans Research Archival Project has dedicated itself to recording the stories and histories of these countryhumans. (AKA an archive of fake newspapers and such that canonically exists inside my countryhumans universe. Just a little fun project to explore different angles of things)

Regular Countryhumans Books

Secret States [Under Editing, Will Be Uploaded when Done]

Wrong Reflection: For about 400 years, Alfred F Jones believed he was the only personification of the United States of America. That is, until his counterpart from another dimension appeared in New York City—cue chaos. (Or my kind of crack Countryhumans x Hetalia fanfic)

Countryhumans Oneshots

Historical Oneshots

Other Oneshots

British Michigan AU Collection

Countryhumans Hispanic Heritage Month 2024

Countrycats AU: Just a fun AU where all personifications are cats. All tagged with #countrycats

Ninjago Books and Oneshots

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harringtonstudios · 2 years ago

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council.

plot: even with the world turned on it's head, somehow you find your way to Alexandria, and back to Daryl Dixon who seems to have a role in determining your fate. (set around s9)

word count: 5.8k of pure fluff divider credit: @firefly-graphics

note: hi i'm back! let me know your thoughts <3

Judith Grimes is a saint at the age of twelve.

Her gunfire gives your group an opening while being surrounded by a herd of the dead, allowing a quick getaway. The herd seems to surge as you run off into the dense woods, rapidly growing in size and volume. The groans and scrabbling still make your skin crawl, even all these years later.

When you finally reach the clearing, Judith is standing there, casually leaning against a tree and you laugh. She gives you a stern look back and it feels like you’re talking to someone much wiser than their years on Earth, someone who knows more than you could ever possibly hope to. She’s calm and collected, even as she holds a warm pistol in her hand.

Magna jokes about child soldiers, about artillery training. It stops being a joke when she whispers to you, “What kind of people would let a child go out on her own with those kinda weapons?”

That’s when you notice the number of weapons Judith holds. There’s the obvious gun, another smaller one hidden on her belt. The sword, sheathed, hanging carelessly over her shoulder. The knives tucked in her jacket pockets. The brass knuckles that seem too big for her hands, poking out of her jeans.

It’s odd. But before you can protest, the rest of the group is following little Judith Grimes to her people.

There’s an argument. And then another one. And then a third.

Judith’s people don’t want you, just like you and Magna don’t really want them. The rest of the group seems to disagree, Connie throwing you harsh looks as Yumiko angrily mutters rationalizations to Magna. Luke’s been attempting small talk with a few of the others, but there isn’t much to be said.

You’ve been thrown out of camps, been raided, left places. Done it all pretty much, and you can agree with Kelly and Magna when they emphasize, “We don’t know these people.”

“But they’re trading! There’s communities,” Yumiko stresses.

“We know what happens to places like that,” you mumble and one of Judith’s people gives you a look-over warily.

The sun starts to melt into orange light, and Judith promptly stands up on the wagon they’ve been using and declares, “If they don’t come back, I won’t either.”

Luke smiles at her.

Her group groans simultaneously and someone mutters, “Michonne won’t like this.”

You peek at Kelly, who gives you a shrug and Connie who signs, Good.

Magna is scowling, but you don’t really expect much from her. She’s trouble personified and with Yumiko so attached, hard to control. Anything you say earns you lectures from Yumiko, rants about privilege and the new world and using old biases. You hold your tongue a lot around the two of them, especially when it concerns Magna’s quick temper, or her ability to start problems with a facial expression, or the way she cannot help herself when she sees people’s things sitting around unguarded.

“Okay,” you say.

They make you give up your weapons almost immediately. There’s a protest from Magna, as expected, but then Yumiko’s reaching over and grabbing the knives from her sheath and everyone shuts up for a while.

You watch them pocket Connie and Kelly’s slingshots with a chuckle and anger starts to burn quietly in your chest.

The wagon isn’t too big, and even though half the group goes to ride in the car, it’s stuffy sitting in the back. There’s tension radiating off of Judith, off of the others now that you’re actually on the way to their compound. Luke’s rambling about some instrument he saved a couple years back and you’re politely pretending to listen while taking in your surroundings.

There’s a path they seem to be following, avoiding the easy highways that your group has been traveling on the past few weeks. You wonder why they’re roaming around in the woods instead of on the clear streets, but then there’s a bump in the road, everyone jostles out of their seats and the thoughts fly out of your mind as you try to keep yourself steady.

Judith’s smiling when you all settle back down, her eyes mischievous as she says, “We’re close to home.”

“What’s home called?” Luke asks.

“Alexandria,” she proudly announces, voice strong and head held up high.

The gates loom in the distance as soon as you get closer. It’s nightfall now, the sky too dark for you to be comfortable. Even in the wagon, you feel exposed and the lack of weapons makes you uneasy. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the apocalypse where you haven’t had a weapon of some sort on you. Hell, there hasn’t been a day since you were fourteen that you haven’t carried defensive items. At that time, it’d be pepper sprays or sharp keys, and then eventually an assortment of smaller accessible weapons, knives, brass knuckles.

You hadn’t held a gun before the infection took over, but you’d held plenty of crossbows and other hunting instruments, so the learning curve hadn’t been complex. A true Southern girl down to the bones, good with weapons, excellent at tracking, and a survivalist’s wet dream in the horrible Georgian woods.

Finding the right group had been easier for you than most. You’d stumbled upon Connie and Kelly during the main evacuation and quickly decided to stick with them. They’d been living in an apartment building right outside of Atlanta, and while the entire Georgian population started to rush into the city center, you three packed Connie’s Jeep and started driving into the outskirts.

Quickly, the decision to leave Atlanta had proven itself. Within days, the city had become a massive hotspot for zombie activity, with the dead surrounding all major buildings. The streets were filled with screams and gunfire, sound radiating all the way to the countryside.

You’d picked up Luke along the way, who’d been walking down the side of the highway grappling with heavy bags filled to the brim with instruments. He was a breath of fresh air in the immediate chaos, bringing positivity to your little crew. He’d also helped discover the shack you had holed up in for the first month, hidden partially by a thicket of bushes. It was a storage shack, evident by the various kitchen appliances stacked on top of one another and random boxes.

Your skills had proven useful instantly, with foraging and setting up various weapons that you’d tossed into Connie’s car. A week or two in, you’d been able to start canvassing the area, discovering other people camping out in different locations.

At first, your instinct was to approach the others. People had set up tents, lit up fires, and would spend hours chuckling and conversing with each other. But the longer you spent observing them, you noticed a couple of red flags. They were almost always hostile to outsiders, edgy about their own supplies, tempers rising quick. People weren’t necessarily nice out here.

Stumbling upon Yumiko had been a complete accident. You’d been observing one of the other groups, carefully leaning high up in a tree. As soon as the sun started to set, you’d jumped off and started the walk back to your own camp. A few feet in, you’d heard a whimper and quickly moved to see a woman lying on the ground, cut on her head, bleeding profusely.

After a quick inner debate, you’d lifted the woman and then dragged her alongside you back to the storage shack. Kelly had called you, “Fucking crazy!” and Connie had thrown over worried looks before scribbling on her notepad Bit?

You’d shaken your head no, and then locked eyes with Luke, who clearly knew you hadn’t checked the woman at all. He looked stunned at the blood, but then Connie had plopped the first aid kit onto a table and handed you a rag to wipe off the excess blood.

Quickly, the three of you had gotten to work, with Kelly applying pressure and Connie focusing on the cut itself. Once the woman had been cleaned up, and bandaged to the best of Connie’s abilities, you did a scan, shifting aside her shirt to make sure she wasn’t bit.

After ten minutes of laying her down on the makeshift beds you’d created out of rugs, she came to, eyes fluttering all around.

“Magna?” she had asked in a distinct accent, voice croaky and dry.

You passed her a water bottle, one of the few left from the original supplies, and quickly gave her an introduction, “I’m Y/N. I found you by the trees with a really bad cut. We fixed you up and brought you someplace safe.”

“Did you bring Magna?” she had asked, slowly sitting herself up.

“You were alone,” you murmured, walking over to balance her.

“That’s impossible,” she scoffed and then put the water bottle down before attempting to stand up completely.

“You can’t go anywhere. It’s already dark,” Kelly stated as you said, “You can find this Magna tomorrow. You need rest.”

It had taken some more back and forth to convince her, but begrudgingly she had agreed to spend the night. That’s how you’d become fast friends with Yumiko.

Magna had come along a couple of days later, found hiding out in some creek area by Luke when he went to the water source you all used to shower. She was brash and loud, almost angrily so, as if you’d done something to personally offend her. She was also one of the best fighters you’d seen, easily taking down some of the roamers without missing a step.

Yumiko had come up to you that night and stated, “She’s coming with us. It’s not up for discussion,” and that had been that.

There’s a council already seated at the head of the room as you slowly walk in. People are milling around, with awkward smiles holding cups of warm chocolate while awaiting the meeting to begin. Someone offered you one as you walked in, but the uneasiness in your stomach was already twisting and threatening to come out without any drinks involved.

In less than a day, a council was prepared to decide on whether or not you and your friends would be allowed to stay here.

You hadn’t cared initially, been through too many camps to feel secure in one and been around too many people to feel comfortable around others that weren’t your family. But Alexandria was different.

They had crops, and a watering system attached to a fully functional windmill. A doctor with a stocked medicine cabinet. Communication with other communities for trade and information exchange. Even a small jail cell, serving a purpose in this upside down world.

It was incredible, almost a replica of a town in the olden days, before electricity and telephones, a place lifted directly from history books.

In the night, the group had come together and discussed options. The consensus had been clear, five out of six had voted to stay in Alexandria.

And so the mission had changed. Instead of asking for your weapons back and petitioning to leave, you were going to fight to stay.

This was an issue of itself. Alexandria seemed extremely wary of outsiders, to the point where you’d been thrown outlandish looks from the residents and heard multiple hushed conversations about “the new people.”

The leader, Michonne, had been angry at your arrival. She’d scolded Judith, yelled at the people who’d gone on the trip, and then proceeded to instruct you all to leave in the morning. Somehow, she’d been reminded of the ominous Alexandrian council, of voting rights, and you’d almost giggled hearing that. God, you hadn’t heard the word vote for almost ten years.

The rest of your group fills in, shuffling behind you. The atmosphere's palpable, tense where you all stand, council poise and alert, while the rest of the Alexandrians calmly chat in the background, as if this was just another normal day.

“Everyone take your seats,” a man pronounces.

The council has eight seats, seven of which are full. There's an empty space right near the middle, and you focus all your attention on it, trying to stay neutral as people shuffle around papers.

“Where’s Michonne?” you hear Aaron ask.

Before anyone can respond, the door behind you opens and closes with a slam. You choose not to look over, keeping yourself steady and calm. If your anxieties start flaring up, this could be a disaster.

“I’m filling in for her. Gave me permission. She’s going out,” a low voice grumbles out.

His body comes into view, dressed in all black, closely resembling a combat outfit. He pulls the chair out and then sits himself down.

Your focus shifts to his face, calmly inspecting the new addition to the group. His hair is long and dark, covering up almost all of his features. He’s unidentifiable, beard poking out, colored with a mix of soft gray and black.

“Alright, this council will now be hearing out,” the pastor starts and you tune him out. Yumiko’s dealing with this entire ordeal, the only one with professional law knowledge. If there was anyone to impress, or anything right to say, she would know it.

As you keep your eyes set on the stranger in front of you, his hand rises, sweeping his hair back from his face, giving you a clear view.

Your breath catches in your throat. There’s no way the man in front of you is who you think he is. It seems more than impossible, but there are those striking blue eyes, that birthmark right by his lip.

Daryl Dixon is sitting less than three feet away from you and it feels like you’ve just been tossed into tidal waves.

The story starts like this. You’re sitting in first grade with band-aids on your knees, eating orange slices. There’s a boy standing in the front of the class with chocolate smeared on his mouth and a grin, missing his two front teeth. He’s new, joining your class in the middle of the school year and you immediately start chanting his name with the rest of your class as a welcome, twenty six-year-olds raising their fists in the air, screaming, “Daryl! Daryl!”

A couple of weeks later, he trips and falls hard during recess. There’s tears in his eyes and his hands are scraped completely. You watch from the other side of the playground in silence as the other kids laugh. The next morning, you beg your mom to pack another brownie to give to, “the broken boy,” and she laughs. He smiles shyly when you plop it on his desk.

In fourth grade, he brings a postcard to Show and Tell. There’s a big cartoon peach on it and scribbled writing on the back. He passes it around proudly explaining how his older brother traveled all across America in the summer. When the postcard comes to you, you see the words “little shit” in messy handwriting, and GEORGIA written in big block letters. During reading hour, one of the boys loudly whispers, “We live in Georgia. Your brother didn’t go anywhere stupid,” and Daryl pushes him so violently, his chair topples over.

You don’t really talk to Daryl until eighth grade. Over the years, he’s gotten much quieter, reserved where he used to be outgoing, restrained where he used to be emotional. He blends into the background, and you kinda forget about the boy who used to start fights and scream when you were younger.

It’s an accidental friendship, starting after a group project that involves too many markers, awkward conversations between kids who’ve never talked to each other, and a presentation where it’s painfully obvious that everyone is a little too nervous.

It turns out he likes the same bands as you, writes you notes during class with song lyrics and stories, starts knocking into your shoulders during lunch before giving you a quick smile as he heads off to the back of the cafeteria.

He doesn’t have many friends, but then neither do you, and it’s easy to talk to him as you walk home together after school. You have no idea where he lives for a couple of years, just know that it’s somewhere in the same direction as your place, and so every day after last period, you wait by the fountain on the first floor for him, a routine.

In high school, he shows up with bruises. It’s not uncommon, almost every guy gets into fights after classes, big crowds gathering by the parks, but he always walks you home right after school, and you know he isn’t fighting with the other kids. You ask him once, and he throws you the harshest look you’ve ever seen and tells you to, “Shut up.” It never gets brought up again.

A week into sophomore year, he comes to school with a cast on his right arm. He can’t take notes, or even hold his backpack properly. His fingers look weird, and he winces when you touch the cast, but still laughs when you sign it with a stupid message in red Sharpie. He passes his unit tests with extremely high grades after using your notes, and then offers to buy you a milkshake one afternoon for all your help. You let him steal your cherry as you both sit on sticky leather booths in the local diner, discussing the latest music on the radios.

Junior year, you start dating around. It’s not fun at all, there are all these rules it seems like you have to follow. The boy doesn’t want you to hang out with Daryl, he likes it when you wear red lip gloss, wants you to dress in certain outfits. It ends pretty quickly after a date where he takes you to the movies and then tries to reach up your shirt in the dark with his sticky hands. You throw your soda on him before leaving the theater, and then spend the rest of the weekend crying in your room. Daryl shows up at your doorstep on Monday morning holding a cup of shitty coffee and lets you rant the entire walk to school.

He’s your best friend until you go off to college and he ends up staying in that shitty town. You try to keep in touch for the first couple of months but it’s hard and then you’re busy with classes and trying to figure out a career and he’s calling you telling you about how he needs to bail his brother out and it all just feels like you’re living in two completely different worlds. One summer you come home and he has a splint on his left pointer finger, stitches on his cheek, and grease oil under his nails. He tells you that he hates living and you so badly wish you could take him away, hide him with you in your dormitory, and show him everything you’ve learned.

The next summer, you travel to California and don’t think about him once. Time and distance scrape away years of friendship. You can't remember ever having a fight with him, or a big blowout to end it all, instead the phone calls become shorter, the letters become far and few and one day, he seems to just fade into the background.

The council asks for your names and Kelly elbows you hard in the arm, breaking you out from the trip down memory lane. You look at the pastor, murmur out your full name, and then immediately feel the heat of his eyes on you. You don’t look over, unsure of what to even say or do. You’re on trial somewhere he belongs, waiting on the mercy of his people, standing in front of him after the world’s become living hell and you’ve lost everyone. Finding him feels bittersweet.

The pastor asks a few more questions, but there’s a pit growing in your stomach and the feeling is overwhelming. You nod along with the others, pretending you’re still paying attention. It’s hard to even decipher the words when it feels like your brain is being scrambled, when your heart is aching and thudding against your chest.

There seems to be a problem and the only way you notice is Yumiko’s fiery eyes turning towards you, slightly damp with threatening tears.

They need a break. She signs over, and it’s clear she has more to discuss with the quickness of her hands.

You follow her out of the building, feeling those damned eyes trail you all the way to the door.

“We need to gain their trust,” Luke starts, leaning against the side of the wooden building. His voice is calm, and so is his demeanor, but you watch his fingers shake slightly.

“That’s impossible! They clearly have an issue with outsiders. It’s not our fault or our business. Let them kick us out,” Magna raves, pacing back and forth. Her eyes are a little too wild, lips bitten raw.

How do we get them to trust us? Connie signs with a worried look, furrowed brows.

“We have to answer their questions. Properly,” Yumiko grits out, throwing a glance your way.

“I’m sorry, listen I’m just not feeling the best honestly. This is way more than we bargained for,” you murmur, just as you feel a hand clasp your shoulder from the back.

Time seems to stop. The others are suddenly clearing their throats, straightening out and eyeing the stranger with awful suspicion. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.

Daryl Dixon’s hand is on your shoulder and suddenly, you’re in high school again, walking home after a long day.

“Hey,” you almost whisper, turning around to face the boy who’s so clearly grown into a man.

“Ten years and all I get is a hey,” he scoffs out, and even with the scraggly beard and the shadow of his hair reaching his shoulders, that mirth in his eyes burns as bright as it did in the past.

“Hi,” you offer, laughing just a little. Everything feels incredulous, like a fever dream coming to life.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, and this time the joy disappears, a darkness taking over that’s new and unexpected. His eyes scan over your friends before returning to yours.

You shrug after a minute of silence. There isn’t a real answer to give him and your brain can’t come up with anything witty in lieu of a response.

There’s an awkward cough from Luke right before Yumiko gestures at Daryl and says, “You know him?”

“I used to,” you murmur, and you see him nod in agreement. You know who he used to be, but this new Daryl with his scars, his stories, he’s someone else now. The apocalypse changes a person in more ways than one.

“Can you help us?” Yumiko asks, voice clear. She’s not one to beat around the bush, but even you’re a little surprised at her blunt words.

“I’m not really on the council,” Daryl mutters, hand going up to rub at his head.

“Can I talk to you somewhere in private?” you ask, interrupting Yumiko from saying something else.

There isn’t much you can do, but Daryl knows more than he’s letting on, you can tell just by the way his voice wavers a little, the way he avoids your eyes. It’s clear he doesn’t trust the others, might not even really trust you, but even if it’s a shot in the dark, you have to take it for their sake, for a future.

He nods, “I can take you to my place.”

You fall into step with him, walking into the middle of a deserted road towards a line of suburban houses. It isn’t like before, he has a different type of walk, stealthy and intentional, not like those afternoons when he’d bump hands with you, trip over his own feet with a backpack slung over his shoulders.

He’s a stranger to you in the most unusual way. You can still tell when he’s lying, still understand the different emotions he expresses through those eyes, can even recognize when he’s uncomfortable just by the set of his shoulders. But now his voice sounds hoarse, his clothes fit differently. He doesn’t speak as much.

He reaches a driveway and then glances back over just to watch you follow along. There’s a car parked on the asphalt, and the garage shutter’s slightly cracked open. Bending down, he grabs the shutter and pulls it up.

There are tons of cardboard boxes inside, scribbled on hastily with Sharpie. The space seems infinitely smaller with the lack of space, and you step in, unsure of where to stand.

He steps in, and then turns around and pulls the shutter back down, blanketing the space in complete darkness.

“Fuck,” he grumbles and then there’s the sound of footsteps, a crashing, and finally the tinkling of a chain.

The light flickers on, a single lightbulb hanging from the garage ceiling. There’s a few boxes tumbled over, items scattered over the floor.

“You good?” you whisper, voice feeling unused and nervous.

“Mhm,” he grunts, furthering your unease. He doesn’t seem keen to start a conversation or even keep talking, and you’re supposed to be here securing a future home for your friends, your family. How are you going to convince a person who doesn’t care to be convinced?

“How long have you been with these people?” you ask. If there’s a place to start, it might as well be the beginning.

“Long before we found this place,” he says while crouching to sweep up the miscellaneous items into their boxes. You watch as he picks up baby bottles and blocks, simple things you haven’t seen in months.

Before you ask another question, he murmurs out, “Look I don’t know what I can do. Michonne doesn't want you guys to stay. Told me I couldn’t trust the rest of the council to kick y'all out, told me I’d have to push for it.”

“Do you trust me?” you breathe out, question falling from your mouth before you can stop it.

“I did,” he says, looking up from the floor, eyes meeting yours as he finishes his sentence, “I don’t know if I do now.”

“Okay,” you settle down onto the floor across from him. He’s back to picking up items, avoiding you as if that’ll somehow make you disappear.

“Daryl,” you start and he freezes, “We’re good people. We didn’t come here to start fights, we didn’t even mean to come here. Judith saved us, and if this entire vote is going to lead to us getting kicked out back on that empty road, tell me now. I’d rather break their hearts than give them hope.”

“Where were you?” he whispers, interrupting your proclamation, voice so small it’s hard to understand what he’s saying. His shoulders are hunched in, and his head’s facing the floor.

You don’t need clarification on his question, “Atlanta. Connie and Kelly saved me. We had a rough couple of weeks before we found the others and then we just figured out how to survive. Kept moving.”

There’s pain building in your throat now, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The past hasn’t haunted you before, but seeing Daryl in this way has unlocked all the ghosts you’ve buried.

“Merle’s dead,” he mumbles out with a sniff.

You let the tears take over then, sitting on cold concrete under yellow light across from the person who’d known you more than you’d known yourself.

Merle was a piece of shit anyway, and you’d spent more nights than you could count letting Daryl rant about his shitty behaviors, his useless quips, his abuse hidden under the guise of being a “big brother.” These tears aren’t necessarily for him, but more for the years gone by, for the loneliness, the loss of the people you used to be.

“I made it quick,” Daryl barely gets out before his breath hitches and then you’re moving your hands over to where his are shaking.

You grab his hand, let your fingers fall in between his, and squeeze. He looks up and your heart breaks. Daryl’s older and scarred, his beard fuller but right now all you see is the kid who begged you not to leave him behind, who spent hours in the woods with you shooting crossbows, who held you tight as you sobbed through heartbreaks and disappointments.

“You can’t leave again,” he says, squeezing your hand back after you’ve both cried out your tears a few minutes later.

“I won’t,” you wishfully murmur, leaning your head against his.

He wipes his face and clears his throat, “I’ll talk to Aaron. He’ll understand the best out of all them.”

You nod. Aaron’s kind, has been since the herd had you surrounded, and although he was frustrated with Judith, he hadn’t yelled, hadn’t argued and fought. Marks of a good man.

“You need to answer their questions honestly,” Daryl continues, dropping your hand before standing up.

“Okay,” you softly echo.

“And pay attention,” he mutters, dusting his jeans off as he walks toward the garage shutters.

You let out a laugh. Of course Daryl would know you hadn’t listened to a single word that was said over the past hour.

You walk ahead of him this time, towards the building with the council, towards the people holding fate in their hands. The crowd’s mostly dispersed with people filing in again and Magna stands by the doorway, teeth gritted.

“Where the fuck did you go?” she bites out and you resist the urge to deck her in the face.

“I was talking to Daryl,” you reply and out of the corner of your eye, you watch him walk back into the hall.

“So are we good to stay?” she asks and beneath the cruelness, you can feel her nerves.

“He said he’ll try. We just need to be honest with them and answer everything,” you say while turning to walk inside.

“Great. So he’s fucking useless,” she huffs and you stop mid-walk.

“We’re all doing our best Magna. Why don’t you clean up your fucking act and try for once in your life?” you spit out, tired of her dramatics and her consistent ability to piss you off.

She doesn’t respond, instead following you inside where the rest of the group is already huddled up by the front of the room. The council’s almost fully seated, with the exception of Daryl and Aaron who seem to be talking by one of the windows.

“Anything?” Luke asks, perking up at the sight of you.

You shake your head slightly, “Gotta get this council to trust us.”

“Great,” Kelly laughs, rolling her eyes before furiously signing over a conversation with Connie.

Yumiko gives you a soft smile, “Hey, at least you tried.”

The council starts the session back off with a bang. Immediately, Magna is questioned about her prison tattoo and the hostility in her reaction doesn’t surprise you at all. The sudden calmness a second later does surprise you though, the way she breathes out before explaining the tattoo and her past in front of a room full of people. She’s cleaning up her act, just like you asked and you throw her a smile after she finishes.

The council’s wrath comes for Yumiko next, then Luke and then finally falls on you. The pastor takes a look at his notes on the table and then questions, “How many people have you killed?”

It’s a weird question to start with. The rest of the group were asked about walkers first, but you push away the uncomfortable feeling and answer, “More than the rest of them. Maybe over seventy.”

“People, not walkers,” one of the council squeaks out.

You glance around before your eyes settle on Daryl’s guarded gaze. He nods imperceptibly and you continue with your answer, “I’ve been protecting my group from the start. We’ve run across dangers and people with bad intentions. In order to keep them safe, I would do whatever it took. I can’t give an exact answer, but if it came down to it, I would kill for my family.”

“Would you kill us?” Aaron asks and you bring your eyes over to him. He seems content with your answer and curious.

“To save them,” you say, and a murmur breaks through the crowd gathered in seats behind.

The pastor holds his hands up, “Silence please.”

You wince.

Daryl licks his lips quickly once as if making a split-second decision and then states, “Y/N is good people. We all want to be loyal, save our families. It’s the only way we survive now. I would do anything for my family. I’d kill for them and I wouldn’t need a reason to do it either.”

The pastor throws him a harsh look and you quickly mouth a thank you. Aaron coughs and once the attention is on him again, he explains, “Daryl’s right. I would kill for every single one of you. I have killed for you. These people are strong, but they’re alone. They don’t have our resources, our safety, our support. We can give them that. I have seen no credible threat from this group and I motion for a vote.”

Magna scoffs under her breath and your eyes widen at her. Here’s what everybody has been fighting for and she still seems to have a problem.

Luckily, the council doesn't seem to hear it. The pastor taps his hand once and then voting motions begin.

You close your eyes tightly as the sounds of “Aye” and “No” fill the room, blurring together into a cacophony of noise. You don’t want to see the faces of these councilmembers as they choose whether you stay or leave.

“The votes have been cast and with 5-4, the Ayes have it. This group will be allowed to stay in Alexandria,” the pastor exclaims, with a tone of hesitation.

Your heart beats against your chest, the pulse jumping throughout your body. You open your eyes to see Connie and Kelly hugging, Yumiko glancing over at Magna with joy in her eyes and Luke’s wide bright grin.

Kelly grabs you, and quickly the small hug becomes a group one, your family surrounding you. You bury your face in Yumiko’s shoulder and let out a burst of new emotion as hands squeeze at you.

“You did it,” Yumiko whispers into your ear, her tears dripping onto your cheek. You sigh at her affirmation, let the hug ground you back to Earth.

As you take a deep breath, you lift up your head, connecting your own eyes to those beautiful blues. He has the faintest hint of a smile on his face, mischief written in his irises. He’s here, and he’s alive and this time, you won’t ever dare to leave him behind. It’ll take some time before you can claim him as your best friend again, but with that look in his eyes, you know that he’ll always have your back, no matter what.

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