#which doesn't work for edits i'm afraid

[peavhyshy]

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - AFRAID

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paring ─ ୨୧ ─ dark!boyfriend!rafe cameron ⋆ reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ in which Rafe hatches a plan to ensure you stay by his side, by making you dependent on him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ explicit language noncon/dubcon, smut, rafe drugs reader, substance abuse, toxic relationship, emotional abuse, baby trapping/forced pregnancy, possessiveness, controlling behaviors, threats of violence, loss of virginity, corruption, breeding kink, dirty talk (like a lot), abandonment issues, manipulation, rough sex, hairpulling, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, powerplay, choking, semi public sex, car sex, creampie (please dni if your sensitive to these topics your mental health should come first)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 8,960

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ is there a plot not really, it may seem long but 80% of this is smut. this is unrelated but i think his season 1 & 2 rafe hair were elite to me but I just hate buzz cuts on everyone so my opinion doesn't matter here. The ‘Lila’ is now edited I use it as a placeholder (because for some reason I hate putting y/n while writing) before I replace it with y/n but of course my dumbass forgot to do that when I published this.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔.:･Afraid･:.ೃ࿔.⋆❀°

(༝༚༝༚ lana del rey)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe sits across from you at your usual table in the country club, his jaw clenching rhythmically as he watches you flip through the college applications. His fingers drum against the polished wooden table, creating a nervous pattern that matches his increasing anxiety. The sight of all those prestigious university names makes his stomach turn - Harvard, Yale, Princeton - each one threatening to take you further away from Outer Banks, from him. He barely touches his plate of steak, too preoccupied with the growing unease in his chest.

"Why the fuck are you even looking at schools that far?" He snaps suddenly, his voice carrying a sharp edge as he reaches across to snatch one of your fries, popping it into his mouth with more force than necessary. His blue eyes darken with barely contained irritation, especially when he catches Topper's wave from across the room. He returns it with a curt nod, his attention immediately returning to you. "You know there's perfectly good schools right here in North Carolina. UNC's got a decent program."

You glance up from your binder, your eyes meeting Rafe's intense blue ones. You set down your fork carefully on your half-eaten Caesar salad, a soft sigh escaping your lips. The sunlight streaming through the country club's windows catches on your hair, creating a halo effect around your skin. "Baby, we've talked about this," you say gently, "These schools have amazing programs for what I want to study. And it's not like I'm making any decisions yet - I'm just looking at options."

The afternoon sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows catches on his rings as he reaches up to run a hand through his disheveled hair, a telltale sign of his growing agitation. The country club bustles around them with the usual crowd of Kooks - women in tennis whites gossiping over martinis, men in polo shirts discussing their latest yacht purchases. But Rafe's focus remains fixed on those damned college applications, his jaw working overtime as he grinds his teeth.

The cocaine from earlier isn't helping his paranoia, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them. The idea of you leaving, of losing control over this one good thing in his life, sends a fresh wave of anxiety through his system. His free hand unconsciously reaches up to rub at his chest, a nervous tick he's developed. The country club suddenly feels too small, too confined, and he can feel his breathing getting slightly erratic. "Just... just put those away for now," he demands, trying to maintain his composure despite the rising panic in his chest. "We're supposed to be having lunch, not planning your fucking escape route."

You reach across the table with your free hand, your fingers brushing against his chest where he's rubbing anxiously. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something sharper - probably remnants of whatever he'd been doing before lunch - fills your nostrils as you lean closer. "Rafe, you're spiraling again," you observe quietly, mindful of the other diners around them. Your eyes flick briefly to Topper and his mother as they pass, offering a polite smile before returning your attention to your increasingly agitated boyfriend. "And you know that's not fair. I'm not trying to escape anything, especially not you."

"Besides," he continues, his tone taking on that manipulative edge he's so good at, "You really want to leave all this behind? The island, the parties, me?" He leans forward, lowering his voice to that dangerous whisper he uses when he's trying to get his way. "You know I can't follow you out there. I've got responsibilities here, the family business..." His hand shoots out to grab your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make his point. "And what about us? You're going to throw away what we have for some fancy degree you could get right here?"

The weight of his intense stare makes you shift in your seat, your sundress rustling against the plush cushions. You can see the telltale signs of his growing panic - the clenched jaw, the rapid breathing, the way his fingers keep twitching against the table. Part of you wants to close the binder, to give in like you usually do when he gets like this. But another part, the part that's been dreaming about life beyond the island since you were little, keeps your hand steady on the applications. "What about a compromise?" you suggest, your voice taking on that soothing tone you learned to use when he's on edge. "What if I apply to both - some schools here in North Carolina and some out of state? That way we have options to discuss later?"

Your free hand moves from his chest to his face, your thumb gently stroking along his clenched jaw. You can feel the tension there, the way he's grinding his teeth. The chatter of the country club fades into background noise as you focus solely on him, knowing how quickly his mood can shift when he feels cornered. "And hey," you add, your voice dropping to a whisper as you lean even closer, your lips quirking into a small smile, "No matter where I end up going, you know you're the only one I want, right? These other Kook boys could never compare to my Rafe Cameron."

The familiar weight of the promise ring he gave you three months ago sits heavy on your finger, catching the light as you move. You learned over your time together that sometimes Rafe needs this - needs to be reminded that he's your choice, that you're his. Even if the possessiveness sometimes scares you, even if his mood swings leave you walking on eggshells, you can't deny the way your heart still races when he looks at you like he is now - like you're something precious he's terrified of losing. "Can we at least look through them together? You might see something you like too."

Rafe lets go of your wrist his hand shooting out to slam your binder shut with enough force to make nearby diners jump. "Don't fucking patronize me," he growls, his voice low and threatening despite their public setting. The gentle stroke of your thumb against his jaw only heightens his agitation, like a match to gasoline. "You think I don't see what this is?" He leans forward, invading your space across the table, his blue eyes wild with a mixture of possessiveness and barely contained rage. "First it's just 'looking at options,' then suddenly you're gone, probably fucking some ivy league asshole who doesn't know you like I do." His breathing becomes more erratic, the hand on his chest pressing harder as anxiety mingles with his growing anger. The familiar scent of your perfume - usually calming - now seems to mock him with its potential absence.

"You're trying to leave me, just like everyone else. Just like my mom, just like Sarah..." His voice cracks slightly on his sister's name before hardening again. "Well, I won't fucking let you."

You tense at the sudden shift in Rafe's demeanor, your heart rate picking up as you watch him slam your binder shut. The warmth drains from your eyes, replaced by a flicker of fear you try desperately to hide. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as he invades your space, his paranoia rolling off him in waves. You’ve seen him like this before, but never quite this intense, never quite this threatening in such a public place.

"Rafe, please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you glance around at the other diners who are now openly staring at them. Your sundress suddenly feels too thin, too exposed under his wild-eyed gaze. You can smell the mixture of his cologne and sweat, and see the way his pupils are dilated - clear signs he's high again. "You're making a scene. Can we please just discuss this somewhere private?" 

A laugh escapes his throat at your suggestion of talking, the sound drawing more concerned glances from nearby tables. "Discuss? There's nothing to fucking discuss." His voice takes on that manipulative tone he knows works so well, mixing threat with vulnerability. "You belong here, with me. Do you think any of those places are gonna love you like I do? Understand you like I do?" His eyes flick to the promise ring on your finger, a visible reminder of his claim on you. "Or maybe that's what you want - to get away from the crazy boyfriend, right? Is that what this is about?"

The cocaine-fueled paranoia reaches a crescendo as he suddenly stands, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He towers over you, his presence intimidating despite the public setting. "You're not going anywhere," he declares, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he leans down close to your ear. "And if you try, I'll make sure every single one of those fancy schools loses your application. Don't test me, baby." His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, a twisted mixture of threat and affection that's purely him. "Now get your shit. We're leaving." His hand moves to grip your upper arm, ready to pull you up from your chair, his entire body vibrating with barely contained violence and possessive need.

The promise ring feels like it's burning on your finger as tears start to well up in your eyes. "I'm not trying to leave you," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. I'm not trying to leave you, I love you, Rafe. You know I do. But you're hurting me right now." You can feel your body starting to shake, whether from fear or adrenaline, you're not sure anymore.

You let him pull you to your feet, knowing resistance will only make things worse. Your college applications lay forgotten on the table as you stumble slightly, your legs weak from the sudden movement. "Okay," you concede, your voice small and defeated. "Okay, we can go. Just... please calm down. Please." Your free hand comes up to rest on his chest again, feeling his racing heartbeat under your palm. "Let's go to your family's place and talk about this properly. Just you and me, baby. Like we always do."

Rafe feels you trembling beneath his grip, and something in your tear-filled eyes pierces through his cocaine-addled rage. His breathing is still erratic, but the feel of your hand against his racing heart starts to ground him. The familiar scent of your perfume begins to cut through the paranoid haze, reminding him of lazy mornings in his bed, of your soft sighs against his neck. His grip on your arm loosens slightly, though he doesn't let go completely.

"Fuck," he mutters, running his free hand through his disheveled hair as reality starts seeping back in. The stares of the other country club patrons finally register, and he can feel his father's disapproval even in his absence. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he struggles to regain control. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Let's go home." His voice is still rough, but the dangerous edge has dulled somewhat. He reaches past you to grab your binder, shoving it under his arm - he's not leaving it here for you to come back to later.

The walk to his truck is tense, his hand moving from your arm to the small of your back - still possessive, but less aggressive. The cocaine is making him jittery, his thoughts racing between paranoia and guilt. Once you're inside his truck, he slams his palms against the steering wheel, making you jump. "I just..." he starts, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't lose you too, baby. I can't." His blue eyes, when they meet yours, are still wild but now tinged with desperation rather than rage. "Everyone leaves. Everyone always fucking leaves."

He reaches across the center console to pull you closer, burying his face in your neck. His breathing is still uneven, but slower now as he inhales your scent. "Stay," he whispers against your skin, his voice taking on that vulnerable quality that only you get to hear. "Just... stay with me. Please." His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin there. It's the closest thing to an apology you’re likely to get from him, this moment of raw vulnerability between the storms of his temper.

Rafe paces anxiously across Topper's home gym, his footsteps echoing against the polished hardwood floors as sweat drips down his bare chest from their workout session. The late afternoon sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the expensive exercise equipment. His muscles are tense not just from lifting weights, but from the constant anxiety gnawing at his insides about your potential departure. The cocaine from earlier is still coursing through his system, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them.

"I'm telling you guys, she's fucking leaving me," he complains, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he continues his relentless pacing. The familiar panic starts rising in his chest again, making him rub at it absently. "All these fucking college applications... Harvard, Yale, Princeton. She's planning her escape and I can't... I can't fucking let that happen." His blue eyes are wild as they dart between Kelce and Topper, sprawled across the leather bench press seats, watching their friend's mounting distress.

Kelce exchanges a knowing look with Topper before speaking up, his voice careful as he watches Rafe's increasingly agitated movements. "Man, you need to chill. Maybe if you weren't so fucking intense about it-" Rafe's sharp laugh cuts him off, the sound bouncing off the mirrored walls. "Intense? You think I'm being intense?" Rafe's voice rises as he spins to face them, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "My girl's trying to leave the fucking state, and you're telling me to chill?"

"Well," Topper drawls, wiping his face with a monogrammed towel, "you could always do what my cousin did when his girlfriend tried to leave for college." He pauses for dramatic effect, a smirk playing on his lips. "Got her knocked up. Can't exactly go to Yale with a baby on the way, can you?" He's clearly joking, but something in Rafe's expression shifts, his eyes taking on that dangerous gleam that appears when he's formulating a plan.

"That's..." Rafe stops pacing, his mind racing with possibilities. His jaw clenches rhythmically as he processes the idea. "That's fucking perfect." He starts pacing again, but this time with purpose, his movements predatory rather than anxious. "She'd have to stay. She'd be tied to me forever." His voice takes on that obsessive quality that appears when he's fixating on something. "No more fucking college applications, no more threats of leaving. She'd be mine, completely mine."

"Dude," Kelce sits up straighter, realizing Rafe's actually considering it. "I don't think that's what Topper meant-" But Rafe's already lost in his world, his cocaine-fueled paranoia latching onto this new solution like a lifeline. "She's still a virgin too," he continues, more to himself than his friends, his rings catching the light as he gestures animatedly. "Waiting for the 'right moment' or some shit. Well, guess that moment's coming sooner than she thought."

"No, no, this could work," Rafe continues, his voice taking on that edge that suggests he's spiraling into one of his episodes. "Her parents are traditional as fuck, they'd make her keep it. And Ward's always going on about wanting grandkids to carry on the Cameron name..." He's fully pacing now, his movements jerky and aggressive as the plan solidifies in his mind. "She's been hinting about wanting to do it soon anyway. Valentine's Day is coming up..."

The gym falls silent except for the sound of Rafe's footsteps and heavy breathing. Neither Kelce nor Topper dare speak, knowing from experience that trying to talk Rafe down when he's like this - especially when he's high - is pointless and potentially dangerous. They watch as their friend works himself into a frenzy, plotting the permanent capture of his girlfriend with the same intense focus he applies to everything he wants to possess.

"It's perfect," Rafe finally declares, stopping his pacing to face his friends. His chest heaves with excited breaths, sweat making his skin shine in the fading sunlight. "She'll never leave me then. She'll have to stay here, raise our kid, be the perfect fucking family." 

The thought of you, permanently his, unable to leave him, sends a rush of possessive pleasure through his system. "You guys didn't hear any of this," he suddenly stops, fixing both Kelce and Topper with a threatening stare. "Not a fucking word to anyone, got it?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that reminds them why people are scared of him, why even other Kooks think twice before crossing him.

"Jesus Christ, Rafe," Topper mutters, running a hand through his hair as he watches his friend's descent into this new obsession. "This is fucked up, even for you." But he knows that look in Rafe's eyes. Once Rafe sets his mind to something, especially when he's high, there's no talking him out of it. The gym feels smaller suddenly, charged with the energy of Rafe's newfound determination.

Rafe stands at the door of the l/n estate, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure in his tailored black suit. His blue eyes are slightly dilated from the line of cocaine he did in his truck to calm his nerves, but he's made sure to eye drop and cologne himself thoroughly. The velvet box containing the surprise he has planned for later weighs heavy in his pocket as he shifts anxiously, his rings catching the light as he reaches up to adjust his tie.

When Paul opens the door, Rafe immediately straightens his posture, forcing his most charming smile - the one he uses when he needs to impress. "Good evening, Mr. L/N," he greets, his voice steady despite the cocaine making his heart race. The older man's scrutinizing gaze reminds him uncomfortably of his own father's disapproving stares. The foyer behind Paul gleams with old money - crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and family portraits that speak of generations of Kook legacy.

"Rafe," Paul acknowledges with a slight nod, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the young man's appearance. There's something about Ward Cameron's son that has always set him on edge, though he can't quite put his finger on what. Maybe it's the occasional wild look in his eyes or the way his daughter seems to walk on eggshells around him sometimes. "Y/N is still getting ready. Come in." He steps aside, allowing Rafe into the pristine foyer.

The sound of Rafe's expensive dress shoes echoes against the marble as he enters, his hands sliding into his pockets to hide their slight tremor - partly from the drugs, partly from anticipation of what he has planned for tonight. The house smells of old money and fresh flowers, much like his own family's estate, but somehow more sterile, fitting for a plastic surgeon's home. His fingers brush against the small packet of powder in his pocket, next to the ring box - just enough to keep him steady through dinner.

"I trust you'll have her home at a reasonable hour," Paul's voice cuts through Rafe's thoughts, making him turn to face the older man. "Of course, sir," Rafe responds, that practiced smile still in place even as his jaw clenches slightly. "We just have reservations at Le Rivage, then maybe a walk on the beach." What he doesn't mention is the rest of his plans for the evening - the champagne waiting in his truck, the blankets he's laid out at his secret spot on the beach, the pills dissolved in one of the champagne glasses that will make sure everything goes according to plan.

The sound of heels on marble draws both men's attention to the grand staircase, and Rafe's breath catches in his throat. You descend like something out of a dream, your skin glowing against the deep red of your dress making his hands itch with the need to touch you. His blue eyes darken as they track your movement, his mind already racing ahead to later in the evening, to all the ways he plans to claim you completely.

"You look fucking perfect," he breathes out when you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching himself too late to censor his language in front of your father. But he can't help it - the cocaine making him more impulsive than usual, and the sight of you making his blood run hot. He steps forward to meet you, one hand reaching out to brush against your waist, proprietary and possessive even under your father's watchful gaze. The scent of your perfume mingles with the lingering chemical taste in the back of his throat, making him dizzy with want and anticipation.

Tonight's the night, he thinks, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as Paul insists on taking pictures. Tonight you become his completely, permanently. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. The thought makes him pull you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Ready for your Valentine's surprise, baby?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that anyone else would recognize as a warning, but he knows his sweet, innocent Y/N won't catch it. Not until it's too late.

Rafe helps you into his truck, his hand lingering possessively on your lower back as you climb in. The interior smells of expensive leather and his cologne, mixed with something chemical that makes you wrinkle your nose slightly. He slides into the driver's seat, his movements are precise despite the cocaine coursing through his system. The engine purrs to life, and he immediately reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers as he pulls away from your family's estate.

"You really do look fucking incredible tonight," he murmurs, his blue eyes flickering between you and the road. His thumb traces circles on your palm, a gesture that would seem sweet if not for the slight tremor in his hand. "That dress is driving me crazy." His rings catch the streetlights as you drive through Figure 8, passing other massive estates and perfectly manicured lawns.

"Thank you, baby," You respond softly, your free hand smoothing down the red fabric of your dress. "You clean up pretty nice yourself." You glance at him, admiring how the streetlights cast shadows across his sharp jawline. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going for dinner? You've been so secretive about tonight."

Rafe's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "It's a surprise, remember?" His voice carries that edge of control he can never quite hide. "But first..." He reaches behind your seat with his free hand, pulling out a small gift bag. "I got you something to wear at dinner." Inside is a delicate diamond necklace, the stones catching the light like tiny stars.

"Oh, Rafe," You breathe, reaching for the necklace. "It's beautiful. You didn't have to-" You are cut off by his laugh, that sharp sound that always makes your stomach flip. "Of course I did. Only the best for my girl." He pulls into a secluded spot overlooking the water, putting the truck in park. "Here, let me put it on you."

His hands are slightly unsteady as he fastens the necklace around your throat, his breath hot against your neck. "Perfect," he whispers, his fingers trailing down your spine. "Just like you'll be after tonight." There's something in his voice that makes you shiver, though you can't quite place why. "What do you mean?" you ask, turning to face him.

Rafe's eyes are darker now, pupils blown wide as he stares at you. "Just that I've got big plans for us, baby." His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "Tonight's gonna change everything." He leans in closer, his other hand sliding up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress higher. "You trust me, right?"

"Of course I do," You whisper, even as something in your gut tells you something's off. You can feel his heart racing where your bodies are pressed together and you can smell something sharp and chemical on his breath beneath the mint. "Rafe, are you okay? You seem...different tonight."

"Never better," he responds, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Just excited to give you all your surprises." His hand moves higher up your thigh, possessive and demanding. "Now, how about we have a little drink before dinner? To celebrate Valentine's Day?" He reaches behind the seat again, pulling out an expensive bottle of champagne and two glasses.

Rafe pours the champagne with calculated precision, his hands steadier now as he hands you your specially prepared glass. The moonlight filtering through the truck's windows catches the diamond necklace at your throat, reminding him of how perfectly it marks you as his. His blue eyes track your every movement as you accept the glass, noting how the red fabric of your dress has ridden up slightly from your position.

"To us," he proposes, raising his glass with that dangerous smile playing at his lips. The cocaine makes everything feel more intense - the way your perfume fills the confined space of his truck, the soft sound of your breathing, the sight of your lips touching the rim of the glass. He watches intently as you take a sip, something predatory flickering in his eyes. "And to all the surprises tonight has in store."

"Mmm, this is really good," You comment, taking another sip. You don’t notice how Rafe barely touches his glass, too focused on watching your drink. "But shouldn't we head to dinner? We don't want to lose our reservation." You move to check the time on your phone, but Rafe's hand shoots out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with practiced possessiveness.

"We've got time," he assures you, his voice dropping lower as he leans closer. His free hand comes up to trace the line of the necklace, fingers ghosting over your collarbone. "Besides, I want to enjoy this moment. Just you and me." He can feel your pulse racing under his fingers where they press against your wrist. "Finish your drink, baby. Then we can talk about dinner."

He watches as you obediently take another sip, then another. "You know what I love about you, Y/N?" His voice is rough now, heavy with want and something darker. "How fucking perfect you are. How innocent." His fingers trace patterns on your inner thigh, making you shiver. "How you trust me completely."

"Rafe," you breathe, and he notices your words are slightly slurred now. Your eyes are starting to look unfocused as you blink slowly at him. "I feel... strange." The champagne glass slips from your fingers, but he catches it smoothly, setting it aside. His heart is racing with a mixture of cocaine-fueled excitement and dark anticipation.

"Shh, baby," he soothes, pulling you closer as you start to sway slightly. "I've got you. Always got you." His lips brush against your neck, just above the diamond necklace. "And after tonight, you'll always be mine. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving." His voice takes on that possessive edge that would normally frighten you, but the drugs in your system are making everything feel distant and hazy.

"What did you..." you try to ask, your head falling back against the seat as your limbs grow heavy. Rafe's hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he watches the drugs take effect. The moonlight casts shadows across his face, making his expression look almost demonic as he smiles down at you.

"Just making sure tonight goes exactly as planned," he whispers, his other hand already reaching for the blankets he has stashed behind the seats. "Don't fight it, baby. Just let go. Let me take care of everything." His lips crash against yours, swallowing any protest you might have made as the drugs pull you deeper under their influence.

Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your movements become increasingly sluggish, your normally bright eyes growing heavy-lidded and unfocused. He shifts in his seat, reaching to recline both of your seats back to create more space in the truck's cabin. The moonlight streaming through the windows casts ethereal shadows across your skin as he positions your body how he wants.

"Rafe..." you mumble, your voice thick and confused as he spreads the blankets beneath you. "What's happening? I feel so..." Your word trails off as he captures your lips in another possessive kiss, his hands already working at the zipper of your red dress.

"Just relax, baby," he whispers against your mouth, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. "Let me take care of you." His fingers trace the newly exposed skin of your back, savoring how you shiver under his touch despite your drugged state. "You look so fucking perfect like this. So helpless. So mine."

Rafe's hands slide possessively over your body as he peels the red dress from your drugged form, revealing the black underwear underneath. His blue eyes darken with predatory hunger as he drinks in the sight of you laid out beneath him in his truck, the diamond necklace glinting at your throat like a collar. The softness of your skin, the way your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, the little whimpers that escape your lips as you try to fight through the fog in your mind.

"Shh, baby," he soothes, his voice rough with desire as his hands roam over your exposed flesh. "Just let it happen. You know you want this." His fingers trace the edge of your lacy bra, teasing your hardened nipples through the delicate fabric. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment. To make you completely mine."

"Rafe, please," You slurred, weakly trying to push at his chest. "Something's wrong... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth crashing against yours, his tongue forcing its way past your lips as his hand slides between your thighs. He groans when he feels how wet you are through your panties, his cock straining against his suit pants.

"Look how ready you are for me," he rubs circles against your clit through the lace. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind's trying to fight it." He pulls back to admire his handiwork - your lips swollen from his kisses, your pupils blown wide from the drugs, your chest heaving as you struggle to focus. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna put my baby in you tonight."

Rafe’s fingers hook into your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs as you weakly try to squeeze your thighs together. The moonlight catches on the wetness between your legs, making him groan. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he breathes, his fingers spreading you open. "All perfect and untouched. Not for long though." 

Rafe's fingers work methodically between your thighs, spreading your wetness as he watches your face contort with unwilling pleasure. His other hand pins your wrists above your head, his rings cold against your feverish skin. The truck's windows are starting to fog up from your heavy breathing, creating a private cocoon around you.

"That's it, baby," he growls, sliding two fingers into you, feeling how tight you are around them. "Gonna stretch you out nice and slow before I fuck a baby into you." His cock throbs painfully in his pants as he watches you arch beneath him, the drugs making you more responsive even as you try to resist.

"No... Rafe... please," You whimper, your head thrashing weakly against the leather seat. But your body betrays you, hips rocking against his skilled fingers as he finds that spot inside you that makes you see stars. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as you gasp, reminding him of his ownership.

"Look at you, taking my fingers so well," he praises darkly, adding a third finger to stretch you further. "Can't wait to feel this tight little cunt around my cock." His thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles that make your whole body tremble. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Make sure my cum stays deep inside you until it takes."

The way your walls clench around his fingers, the little sounds you make as he works your body, the perfect arch of your back as you fight between pleasure and resistance. He leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down just hard enough to make you cry out.

"Please," you beg, though whether you're begging him to stop or continue, even you don’t know anymore. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing from his touch as the drugs make everything feel more intense. "Rafe... I can't..."

"Yes, you can," he demands, curling his fingers inside you as his thumb speeds up on your clit. "Come on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cock." His blue eyes are wild with possession as he watches you fall apart beneath him, knowing that after tonight, you’ll never be able to leave him. 

Rafe’s fingers work relentlessly between your thighs. His free hand moves from your wrists to grip your throat, right above the diamond necklace, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze my fingers."

Your body betrays you even as your mind tries to resist, waves of unwilling pleasure building under his skilled touch. The drugs make everything feel heightened - the stretch of his fingers inside you, the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the heat of his breath against your neck. Your legs start to tremble as you approach your peak.

"That's it, baby," He watches your face contort with pleasure and confusion. His cock strains painfully against his suit pants, demanding attention. But he forces himself to wait, to savor this moment of taking your innocence piece by piece. "Give it to me. Show me how good I make you feel."

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the truck's cabin, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working between your legs. Rafe's eyes are dark with possession as he watches you fight against the inevitable, knowing that each moment brings him closer to his ultimate goal. The moonlight catches on the sweat beading on your skin, making you glow ethereally.

"I... I can't..." You whimper, your back arching off the seat as pleasure builds to an unbearable level. The drugs make everything feel like too much and not enough all at once. "Rafe, please..." Your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders. "You can, and you will," he commands, his voice taking on that dangerous edge that brooks no argument. His fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars while his thumb circles your clit with practiced precision. "Come for me now. Let me feel it."

Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your body trembles beneath him, your back arching off the leather seat as pleasure builds. His fingers work relentlessly inside your pussy, stretching and preparing you for what's to come. The way your walls clench around his digits, the little gasps and moans you can't hold back, the perfect arch of your spine as you fight between resistance and ecstasy.

"That's my good girl," his free hand moving from your throat to grip your hair, forcing you to look at him. "Watch me while you come. Want to see those pretty eyes when I make you fall apart." His thumb continues its relentless assault on your clit as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes your whole body shake.

Your eyes flutter open, glazed with drugs and unwilling pleasure. The moonlight catches the tears gathering in your lashes as you stare up at him, unable to look away from his intense blue gaze. Your lips part in a silent scream as the pressure builds to an unbearable level, your body tightening around his fingers.

"Please," Her hands clutch desperately at his shoulders, leaving crescent marks through his expensive shirt. "Rafe, I can't... it's too much..."

"Yes, you can," he demands, his voice rough with desire and dominance. "Come for me now, baby. Show me how good I make you feel." His fingers speed up inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the truck's cabin. "Let go. Let me see you fall apart before I fuck you properly."

The combination of his skilled fingers, the drugs in your system, and his commanding voice finally pushes you over the edge. Your whole body goes rigid as pleasure crashes through you, walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers as you come with a broken cry of his name. 

"Beautiful," he breathes, working you through the aftershocks as you tremble beneath him. "But we're not done yet, baby. Not even close." His free hand moves to his belt, the sound of the buckle loud in the confined space. "Now it's time for the main event. Time to make you completely mine."

Rafe takes his time unbuckling his belt, the metallic sound echoing in the confined space of his truck. His blue eyes never leave your face as he watches you come down from your high, your body still trembling with aftershocks. Your chest heaves with each breath, the glisten of sweat on your skin, the slight quiver of your thighs as they remain spread for him.

"Look at you," he grunts, finally freeing his throbbing cock from his pants. "All fucked out from just my fingers, and we haven't even gotten to the best part yet." His hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly as he positions himself between your legs. The head of his cock brushes against your sensitive folds, making you whimper. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment."

"Rafe," You slur, your drugged mind struggling to focus as you feel his size pressing against your entrance. "Wait... I'm not ready..." Your weak protests only serve to fuel his desire, his grip tightening on your hip as he holds you in place. The diamond necklace at your throat catches the moonlight as you try to shift away.

"You're more than ready, baby," he counters, using his free hand to spread your wetness along his length. "Your body's begging for it. Been begging for it all night." He leans down, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss as he starts to push inside your entrance. The stretch is intense, making you gasp against his mouth. "Gonna make you take every fucking inch."

His cock inches forward slowly, savoring the way your walls resist his invasion. The truck's windows are completely fogged now, creating a private world for just the two of you. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he feels your tight heat enveloping him, his control starting to slip. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his fingers digging into your hip hard enough to leave bruises. "Taking my cock so well, just like I knew you would."

Tears stream down your cheeks as he stretches you open, the mixture of pain and drugged pleasure making your head spin. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. "Almost there, baby," he pants against your neck, his hips still pushing forward relentlessly. "Just a little more and you'll have all of me." His free hand slides between them to rub your clit, knowing the added stimulation will help your body accept him. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum, make sure it takes. Make sure you can never leave me."

Rafe's hips finally meet yours as he bottoms out inside you, a groan of satisfaction rumbling deep in his chest. Your walls flutter around his length as you adjust to being completely filled for the first time. The truck's cabin is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the leather seats creaking beneath them with each subtle movement.

"There we go," he pants against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His hands grip your hips possessively as he holds himself still, savoring the moment. "Been dreaming about this for so fucking long, baby. About claiming you completely." You whimper beneath him, your mind is hazy from the drugs as your body struggles to accommodate his size. Tears continue to stream down your cheeks, your fingers clutch weakly at his shoulders as you feel him throb inside you.

"Please," you manage to gasp, though your drugged state makes it hard to form coherent thoughts. "It's too much... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth capturing yours in a demanding kiss, his tongue invading your mouth just as his cock has invaded your body.

"Yes, you can," his hips starting to move in shallow thrusts. "And you will. Gonna fuck a baby into you tonight, make sure you can never leave me." His movements gradually become deeper, and more purposeful, as he establishes a rhythm. "Watch me while I do it. Want to see those pretty eyes when I breed you." One hand slides from your hip to grip your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he fucks into you. "That's it," he praises darkly as your body starts to respond despite your protests. "Take it like a good girl. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."

Rafe's movements become more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force as he chases his release. The truck rocks with your movements, his hands grip your hips bruisingly tight as he pounds into you, watching with dark satisfaction as pleasure and pain war across your drugged features.

"Fuck, you feel perfect," he groans, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat just above the diamond necklace. "So fucking tight around my cock. Like you were made for this." His thumb traces your bottom lip as he continues his relentless pace. "Made to take my cum, to carry my baby."

Your head thrashes weakly against the leather seat, your body overwhelmed by the mix of drugs and unwilling pleasure. Your walls clench around him involuntarily as another orgasm builds, making him grunt with satisfaction. "That's it, baby," he praises darkly. "Squeeze my cock just like that. Show me how much your body wants this." His free hand moves between them to rub your clit, determined to make you come around his cock. "Gonna fill you up so good," he pants, his rhythm becoming more erratic as he nears his release. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it takes. Make sure everyone knows you belong to me." His fingers speed up on your clit as he feels your walls starting to flutter. "Come for me now, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy milk my cock."

Rafe's grip tightens on your hips as he feels his release building, his thrusts becoming more desperate and erratic. "That's it, baby," feeling your walls clench around him as another orgasm builds in your drugged body. "Come on my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cum." Your back arches off the seat as pleasure crashes through you against your will, your walls squeezing his length rhythmically. The sight of you coming undone beneath him finally pushes Rafe over the edge. With a guttural groan, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your pussy. "Fuck," he pants against your neck, grinding his hips to ensure his cum stays deep inside. "All mine now."

He collapses on top of you for a moment, both of you catching your breath in the steamy confines of his truck. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as he finally pulls out, watching with dark satisfaction as his release drips from your used pussy. "No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. You're stuck with me now, baby." Without a word, he starts fixing his clothes, already planning your next encounter in his mind. 

"Let's get you home, baby," he says, his voice rough as he helps you dress on shaky legs. "Don't want your daddy getting suspicious." His hand rests possessively on your thigh as he starts the truck, knowing that after tonight, everything has changed. The drive back is silent except for your occasional whimpers, the drugs still making your head fuzzy as she processes what just happened.

A week later,  

Rafe lounges against his truck at the Boneyard, The beach is relatively empty at this hour, just a few surfers catching the last waves of the day. His blue eyes track your movement, noting how pale you look, and how your usual confident stride seems shakier. A smirk plays at his lips, though he keeps his expression carefully neutral.

"Hey baby," he calls out, pushing off the truck to meet you. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you close as he studies your face. "You sounded weird on the phone. Everything okay?" The concern in his voice is perfectly crafted, masking the satisfaction he feels as he takes in your distressed state.

Your hands tremble as you pull away from his embrace, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. "Rafe, I... I need to tell you something." Your voice cracks slightly as you speak, tears already gathering in your eyes. "I went to the doctor today..."

"What's wrong?" Rafe steps closer, his hand coming up to cup your face with practiced gentleness. Inside, his heart races with anticipation, but his expression remains one of innocent concern. "You've been sick all week. Did they figure out what's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant," you whisper, the words carried away by the ocean breeze. Your eyes search his face desperately for any sign of recognition, any hint that he remembers your Valentine's night. "But I don't... I can't remember... The last thing I clearly remember is having champagne in your truck..."

Rafe's eyes widen in perfectly feigned shock, his hand dropping from your face as he takes a step back. "You're... what?" He runs a hand through his hair, the picture of a young man receiving unexpected news. "But we've never... I mean, I thought you wanted to wait?" His voice carries just the right amount of confusion and disbelief.

"That's just it," Your voice rises slightly, panic evident in your tone. "I don't remember! Valentine's Day is just... fuzzy. But the doctor said I'm about a week along, and you're the only one I've been with..." you trail off, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks.

Rafe pulls you into his arms, hiding his triumphant smile in your hair. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, one hand moving to rest possessively over your still-flat stomach. "We'll figure this out together. I'm here for you, baby. Always." His voice drops lower, taking on that dangerous edge you're too distraught to notice. "Guess those college applications won't be necessary anymore, huh?"

His hand tightens possessively around your waist as you tremble against him, his other hand still resting on your stomach where his child is growing. The setting sun casts long shadows across the beach, the sound of waves providing a backdrop to your quiet sobs. His blue eyes gleam with dark satisfaction as he feels you collapse further into his embrace, exactly where he wants you.

"What am I going to tell my parents?" You whisper against his chest, your voice breaking. "My dad... he's going to kill me. And all my college plans..." You pull back slightly to look up at him, mascara running down your cheeks. "Rafe, I can't remember anything from that night. How did this happen?"

Rafe's jaw clenches as he maintains his facade of confusion and concern. "Hey, look at me," he demands softly, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Your parents love you. And my family... well, Ward's always talking about wanting grandkids." His thumb wipes away your tears as he studies your face. "Maybe this is a good thing, you know? You and me, starting our own family."

"But I had plans," you protest weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. "Harvard, Yale... I was supposed to get out of Outer Banks..." You don’t even notice how his grip tightens painfully at your words or the flash of possessive anger in his eyes.

"Fuck those plans," he growls, before quickly softening his tone. "I mean, things change, right? Sometimes for the better." His hand slides up to cup your face, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "You've got me now. Got us. Isn't that better than some fancy college where you don't know anyone?" He’s super hyper-focused on every detail - the way you unconsciously lean into his touch, how your body fits perfectly against his, the slight swell of your breasts that's already becoming noticeable. His other hand remains possessively on your stomach, imagining how it will grow with his child.

"I'm scared," You admit, your voice small against the sound of crashing waves. "Everything's happening so fast, and I can't remember... that night is just blank, Rafe. Doesn't that bother you?" You search his face for any sign of recognition, any hint of guilt.

But Rafe's expression remains carefully crafted a mixture of concern and determination. "What bothers me is seeing you upset," he lies smoothly, pulling you closer. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You and me and our baby. "No more talk about leaving, though. You belong here, with me. Got it?"

"We should tell our parents soon," he says, his voice carrying that edge of control he can never quite hide. "Get everything out in the open. But first, promise me something, baby. Promise me you'll stop looking at those college applications."

Your eyes widen with fresh tears as you stare up at him. "But Rafe, I can't just give up everything I've worked for..." Your voice trails off as his grip tightens slightly on your chin, his blue eyes darkening with barely contained possession.

"Those dreams were for the old Y/N," he states firmly, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "The one who didn't have a family to think about. Things are different now." His other hand presses harder against your stomach, a reminder of what's growing inside of you. "You've got bigger responsibilities. To me. To our baby."

The waves crash against the shore behind them as silence stretches between them. Rafe can feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers where they rest against your throat and can see the moment you start to break under the weight of reality. His plan is working perfectly - soon you’ll be completely his, tied to him forever through your child.

"I... I need time to think," You finally whisper, trying to step back from his embrace. But Rafe's grip remains firm, keeping you close as the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the horizon. His expression shifts into something darker, more possessive.

"No more thinking," One of his hands slid up to tangle in your hair. "No more plans that don't include me. You're mine now, Y/N. The sooner you accept that, the better." His voice carries a threat wrapped in velvet as he stares down at you. "Or should we talk about how convenient it is that you can't remember Valentine's Day?"

Rafe's threat hangs heavy in the air as your face drains of color. His fingers tighten in your hair, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. The darkened beach feels suddenly oppressive as he towers over your trembling form.

"What... what do you mean?" You whisper, your voice is small and frightened as you search his face. The familiar warmth in his blue eyes has been replaced by something cold and calculating that makes your stomach turn.

"You really want to know what happened that night?" he asks, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. His hand slides from your stomach to your hip possessively. "Want me to tell you exactly how I made sure you'd never leave me? How I watched you drink that champagne, knowing what was in it?"

You try to pull away, but his grip is iron-tight as realization dawns on your face. "No," she breathes, shaking her head in denial. "You wouldn't... you couldn't..." But the predatory smile spreading across his face tells you everything you need to know.

"I did," he confirms, pulling you closer until your faces are inches apart. "And now you're carrying my baby. No more college applications. No more dreams of leaving. You're mine forever now, baby." His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek with mock tenderness. "And if you ever think about telling anyone... well, who's going to believe the girl who can't remember her own Valentine's Day?"

The waves crash behind them as your world crumbles around you. You can feel the weight of the promise ring on your finger - once a symbol of love, now feeling more like a shackle. Rafe watches you process everything with dark satisfaction, knowing he's won completely.

"Why?" you finally manage to ask through your tears, your voice breaking on the single word. The hand in your hair tightens as Rafe's expression turns almost tender, though his eyes remain cold.

"Because you're mine," he states simply as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And I take care of what's mine. You'll see, baby. This is better than any fancy college could ever be." His hand moves to rest on your stomach again, possessive and threatening all at once. "Our little family, together forever in Outer Banks. Just like it should be."

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[yiddishknights]

you seem like the right person to ask about jewish knights and judaism in general in arthurian legend

Hello! Apologies for how long it has taken me to respond to this! Throughout the Middle Ages and the early modern period, there were a number of Arthurian texts written by and for Jewish people in Jewish languages. The one I specialize in is an Old Yiddish text called Vidvilt, which is part of the Fair Unknown tradition and based off an earlier German text called Wigalois. This text was super popular in the Yiddish-speaking world for about three centuries or so and was reworked and reprinted a number of times. I already discussed some of those adaptations a while ago in response to this ask.

Predating Vidvilt, there was a Hebrew Arthurian text written in the 13th century which is now commonly known as Melekh Artus. This was based on Old French sources and tells the story of Arthur's birth and Lancelot's affair with Guinevere before breaking off unfinished. The most common edition of the text used today is the one by Curt Leviant, though I just read a fascinating article in the latest issue of the Journal of the International Arthurian Society calling into question some of his transcription choices and the conclusions he draws in his analysis of the text.

I also recently read that a fragment of an Arthurian text in Judeo-Catalan was recently discovered, but I'm afraid I don't know much about it as yet other than that it's apparently a late medieval adaptation of Jaufre.

Chivalric romances of both Christian and Jewish origin were extremely popular among medieval and early modern Jews in general. There were a number of non-Arthurian knight stories that were very popular as well; for example, the most famous and influential work of early Yiddish literature was a chivalric epic called Bovo d'Antona, and a survey I read of the literature in Jewish households in early modern Italy shows that the most popular non-religious work among Jews at that time was Orlando Furioso.

It is worth noting that, even though some of these texts were written by and for Jews, that doesn't necessarily mean that the characters in them were Jewish. Jewish writers generally tended to modify their Christian source materials by gliding over or obscuring references to religion, rather than depicting Judaism directly (the reasons for this are complex and could constitute a whole paper, so I won't get into it here). That being said, medieval Jewish knights did exist in real life, too! There are a few medieval historians who do research into exactly when, where, and under what circumstances Jews were allowed to bear arms, but it definitely wasn't exclusively a literary thing.

[letterstodixon]

place in me

summary: A path of wishes and several opportunities in which you stopped believing in them, since the world went to shit until now.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader (established relationship)

word count: 8556

era: commonwealth

warnings: towl/dd: tboc spoilers. mentions of blood and killing walkers. angst (kind of?). not proofreading. mentions of reader cutting her hair shorter but it doesn't mention the lenght per se. age gap implied.

divider by @/saradika-graphics

a/n: i'm afraid this is gonna be a long ass author's note. hello again! i've been missing due to my academic schedule and my writers block, this one shot has been sitting on my notes app for a month and half, and i'm still not too happy on how it turned out, however, i wanted to try and post it. i'm sorry if there's any error, spelling mistake or lack of continuation in the story, i'm willing to come back to re-edit this someday and improve it, in the meantime, thank you if you read the note and the one shot. hope you like it! <3

taglist: @vaniniweenie

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

Every birthday, when a shooting star passed by, when you saw a dandelion, when an eyelash fell on your cheek, or on the cheek of someone you loved. You never missed the chance to make a wish.

Well, wishes were no longer something that could be fulfilled. Silently, every time you asked for something, it didn't work out. No matter how hard you wished for it, it just didn't happen.

From the shores of the lake at the quarry, wishing that whatever was happening in the world would be fixed, until the moment the war with the whisperers ended, you didn't stop praying that someone, anyone, would hear your prayer. That they wouldn't stop taking your family away, even though new members kept appearing and making themselves loved, you hated knowing that someone you loved would be a new name on the wall of Alexandria. It could even be you, but luck was on your side. Or not yet.

When you arrived in the Commonwealth, the few members of your family were more than a little scared and suspicious. Still, everyone seemed to fit into this new life that was offered to them... until you had to fight. Once again. To get Negan on your side? Yeah, it was bad. And as things seemed to fall into place once again, you kept losing people. And you lost the one you loved the most in that weak and broken world.

Your lover and best friend.

You can still remember the moment you entered the apartment you shared, not only with each other, but with your nephews and Dog. School had just finished, the work day seemed to have never drained your energy, and you couldn't wait to get home. Hell, maybe you even had the will to bake a pumpkin pie, since autumn was beginning, but that calmness vanished as soon as you saw Daryl's backpack on the couch, along with other belongings. Was he leaving? Was there some kind of run you weren't aware of?

"Babe?" You asked, dropping your bag next to his, while your free hand clung to your necklace. He appeared through the bedroom door, somewhat confused, as he was probably expecting you to arrive later.

"Hey. Yer early.”

"No, I think you're the one who's early." You tried to joke, still playing with the chain on your neck, while a nervous smile appeared on your lips. Daryl seemed to be focused on that movement that you kept making, making it inevitable to meet your gaze. Wrap, wrap, unravel, unravel. "What's going on?"

Your voice brought him out of his trance, making him clear his throat, his gaze going to the floor. He had thought of a thousand ways of how to face that situation, but none of those thousand ways were going to be enough to face reality.

"Yeah, I— uh, I'm leavin'."

"What?"

Daryl shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. "I'm leav—"

"No, I heard you the first time. I mean why, why would you leave?" You asked, feeling your stomach start to churn. After all those years, all those moments, all the time it took for you both to be able to be calm and together, he was leaving? Just like that?

"It ain't about us or anythin’, I'm just... I feel stuck 'ere." He admitted, daring to meet her face and oh boy, he wished he never had. Your nervous eyes met his ocean ones, head tilted slightly, trying to understand him.

"Okay then, we're both leaving. I'm not staying here this time, six years was enough." You answered quickly, passing by him to try to enter the room, ready to pack a bag and leave with him, but his hand caught your wrist.

"I'm doin' it alone. Yer staying here."

"Like hell I'm staying here! What do you mean?!" You asked, raising your voice and causing Daryl to flinch, making your heart clench at the sight. "I didn't mean to raise my voice but I... I don't get it.”

"I need to find Rick, I can't leave Michonne alone with ‘im... I need my time away." He explained as clearly as he could, without stuttering in between. For every word that came out of his mouth, another piece of his heart broke. A humorless laugh left your lips, yanking out of his grasp.

They say the human heart beats between 60 and 100 beats per minute. You weren't sure you were even feeling your heart beating at that moment.

In fact, it was probably so broken that you couldn't feel it in your chest.

"You can leave for Rick but I ain't worth your stay. I get it, Daryl." You said, raising your hands in surrender. "There's nothing I can do about this, about us."

"I told ya, it ain't about you or anything, I just—"

"I understood every fucking time you wanted to leave. I was never against it, I never even approached the places I knew you could be, so you could have your time, but now?" You had to take a moment to breathe, feeling like it wasn't enough, the pressure in your chest too much to pretend it wasn't there. "Now I don't get it, and I probably never will. And yeah, I'm mad as hell because I love you and I don't want you away from me, but since I'm not a good enough reason to stay, then I won't beg.”

Daryl frowned, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nodded at what you said, never taking his eyes off your face. You knew him well enough to sense that he was holding back the urge to cry, and you weren't far from doing so either.

"Yer more than enough. M'sorry, sunshine." He said softly, slowly approaching to you before finally wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. As soon as you saw yourself surrounded by that hug, you couldn't help but release those tears you'd been holding back for a while.

For many years, you woke up knowing you'd see his face next to you, you went to sleep knowing it, and you were certain that the heaviest, most crushing part of life turned out to be a little lighter with his presence.

That day, when Daryl was about to leave, was the first day —of all those yet to come— without that certainty.

It was just you and Carol outside the Commonwealth gates. You carefully placed the ring you shared with him on your chain and placed it around his neck, hiding it under his clothes, as you felt his gaze follow every move you made. Daryl would grab that ring and press it into the palm of his hand in the middle of his journey whenever he needed to feel you closer, when there were no people around and he wanted to connect with home.

With a kiss on each cheek, one on his forehead and one on his lips, you gave him a weak smile, as he placed his hand on the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together, one of your hands holding his free hand, holding tight once again to the man who once was your North.

"Love ya like the ocean." He said in the softest voice you had ever heard from him.

"I love you more." You murmured, walking away so Carol could say goodbye. After exchanging their I love you's, you both took a few steps back, watching as Daryl climbed onto his motorcycle and gave you one last look before starting the engine and accelerating towards his next destination, while you silently wished that the universe would protect the reason why the sun shined.

Months came and went. With each passing season, your life seemed to become duller and more monotonous. Little remained of the life you used to know, and the family you once knew. Perhaps, you were nostalgic too easily

Daryl’s whereabouts remained unknown, as did Rick’s, and God knows where Negan had gotten off to. Every chance you got, you found a blind spot in the Commonwealth you could sneak through, and you spent hours looking for any trace of Daryl, without finding any clue that he was around. The kids and Dog were still in your care, and the families in the community counted on you to educate their children, so you couldn’t allow yourself to disappear for many hours.

But Carol could.

As soon as she had the chance, she dropped everything to go in search of her best friend, promising to bring him back for you, for the kids, and for her, who was starting to feel overwhelmed in that place, the memories weighing more heavily than reality. You knew you couldn't stop her, so once again, you asked the universe to take care of her and allow her to return home, safe and sound.

You still didn't believe in wishes, but you could still try.

When winter break arrived, in the semi-normality that the commonwealth allowed you to have, you set off on a trip to Alexandria with Judith, RJ and Dog, who didn't know how to behave the whole trip, excited about it being his first time traveling by car. Judith looked strange in the back seat, moving her hands inside her backpack, until you heard the sound of a walkie.

Shoto, it's Daito. I found him.

A thousand thoughts went through your head from the moment you recognized Michonne's voice, until you took the children to that field where the helicopter would land. You thought you were living a dream, but it was as real as it could be. Rick's reunion with his daughter, that he could meet RJ, suddenly, made you start crying everything you couldn't cry in Daryl's absence. Ever since Rick had arrived at the quarry, he knew how to be the older brother you never had, and he didn't stop taking care of you as much as he took care of the rest, but maybe he did put a little more effort into you and Carl, who looked for you and Michonne when he was about to commit some mischief.

When the family approached the car again, Michonne was the first to hug you, both stopping to look at each other with admiration and surprise a couple of times, your friend's hands playing with your hair while laughing and exclaiming It's shorter! What have you done with your hair?, unable to believe how short it was compared to how you had it a few years ago. Rick observed the scene with an expression that you couldn't decipher but, as soon as Michonne and the children moved away, he didn't hesitate to hug you with all his strength, swinging from one side to the other while he heard you laugh, a smile appearing on his face as well.

"Where the hell have you been, Grimes?! How dare you leave us dealing with Negan by ourselves?" You joked, moving away but only a little, hugging him from the side. On the other side, Judith came over to hug him too. Rick watched his children with a love you had never witnessed in another person.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I'm not planning on leaving you guys anytime soon." He said, nodding, extending one of his arms for RJ to fist bump. Only then did you notice that it wasn't his arm, but a black prosthesis. At that moment, you realized everything you had to tell each other, and how much they must want to see Alexandria.

"Well, then... The kids are on vacation and we were visiting Alexandria, are you coming with us?" You suggested, noticing the confusion between Michonne and Rick.

"Visiting? Where have you been living, then?" Michonne questioned, narrowing her eyes. Sighing, you gestured towards the car.

"There's a lot we have to tell you both. Okay, get in the car, we have a few miles left.”

And just like that, the Grimes family was making their arrival at the place they all loved the most. Along the way, you were able to tell them (with Judith’s comments and Dog’s interruptions in between) about how they came to the Commonwealth, what life was like there, and who was left behind. Rick had a lot to process about what had happened in these past few years, the most recent losses and also the additions to the family. His blank expression when he heard Negan befriended her —now— oldest daughter, and that he had saved her in the middle of a storm. He was also able to tell you and the kids about his time at the CRM, his reunion with Jadis, and how they managed to escape, although you were sure he had left out certain details so as not to upset his children.

As you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria and everyone got out of the car, the gates to the community opened to reveal Maggie, Aaron, and Lydia, the first two running to hug Rick and Michonne, while Lydia shyly approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's so nice to see you again, Y/N." She said, her head resting on your shoulder as you hugged her, smiling.

"Nice to see you too, kid. You're taller than the last time I saw you, slow down." You replied, ruffling her hair, turning to see Rick, who was hugging Maggie, Aaron waving at RJ and Jude while Michonne looked at the scene with the same admiration and tenderness as you did.

"I thought you promised to be here with Daryl next time you visit." Lydia said in a mocking tone, pretending to be upset, and while the comment brought a smile to everyone around you, you couldn't help but look at Jude and RJ, both with a sad expression, looking at you too. You didn't know what expression you had put on, but the weight on your chest had appeared again and you could see Lydia's face increasingly scared of the change of environment she had generated. "I—"

"What's going on?" Maggie asked, looking at you with clear concern on her face. Wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you noticed tears that you didn't know you were holding back falling, you shook your head.

"Daryl, uh... He left." You said as you nodded, looking down.

"What? When did he leave?" Rick's voice made you look up, noticing his confusion at the news that his best friend, his brother, wasn't there with them.

"He wanted to keep searching for you, said that couldn't let Michonne do it for herself. I haven't known anything about him since a few months ago.”

You heard Lydia gasp beside you, taking a few steps back to look at you in disbelief. The expression on everyone's faces ranged from confusion to sadness. No one imagined that Daryl could spend a day away from you, much less by his own will.

"And now what? We have to tell him Rick is here! He'll come back." Aaron reasoned, making the rest nod, agreeing with him. "We can try and track him—"

"I tried." You interrupted him, sighing heavily, thinking of all the times you ran away with the simple intention of finding something that would lead you to Daryl. "And Carol went looking for him, but some time passed too and I don't know where she could be anymore."

"Carol left too? You better be joking." Michonne exclaimed, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Seeing that you were unable to speak, you responded with a shrug of your shoulders, tears having taken over a large part of your face and throat, and she came over to hug you, Lydia taking a step back to let your friend comfort you. A few seconds later, you felt another body hug you from the opposite side, Maggie. Then, the children, Aaron, Rick and Lydia again.

"We're a family. We'll always find the way back home to us." Rick exclaimed, leaning his chin against his wife's head. Closing your eyes, you took that phrase from Rick as your next wish.

May we always find the way back home. May he find the way to us.

And the holiday seasons passed, and the seasons continued, but no one came home again. With each passing day, you lost your hope of ever seeing your lover and his best friend again, who happened to be one of your best friends too. Every time you looked in the mirror, your face looked familiar, but you could no longer see yourself. With the arrival of Rick and Michonne, Jude and RJ were no longer under your care, so —given their parents' decision to stay in the Commonwealth to continue their schooling— the four of them had moved into an apartment, not far from yours, leaving you with Dog and a deafening silence every time you entered the house. Curiously, despite having part of your family back, you found peace when you were away from everyone, and that's why you took advantage of continuing to escape from the community, without anyone knowing, sometimes managing to sneak past Dog on some occasion, who continued to seem to be looking for traces of his partner, of the one who brought him home.

And that's where you thought... If Michonne searched for Rick for so many years, if Rick continued to search for his way home despite everything, if Daryl didn't give up looking for Sophia, for Merle, for Rick, why were you behaving like that? Why were you moving further away from the idea of a reunion when there were people who fought and gave their lives to return to the people they loved? At that moment, in the middle of the class you were giving, is when you made the decision to go back on the road and look for Carol and Daryl, even if it meant giving up your life for it. Three knocks on the door made you turn to look, your students distracted enough not to notice the presence of Ezekiel, who was motioning for you to come closer. You looked at your group one last time before going out into the hallway, noticing that, next to him, there was a tall, skinny boy, with long, somewhat wavy hair. His eyes conveyed tranquility but at the same time, they seemed tired. Almost sad.

"Miss Y/N, this is Laurent, your new student. He flew all the way from France to be here." Ezekiel said with his signature smile. A surprised expression appeared on your face, seeing the young man in front of you smile shyly.

"Bienvenu." You exclaimed, extending your hand in Laurent's direction, who took it without hesitation.

"Merci. Parles-vouz français?" He asked, causing you to grimace, shaking your head from side to side.

"Just a little bit. Do you manage well with English?”

"Yes. I had a few good teachers." He said, shrugging. There was a certain calmness in his tone that you still couldn't quite figure out.

"Well, I'll let you both get back to class, but I need your presence at my office when your shift finishes, mrs. Y/N." Ezequiel instructed, making you nod as you waved at him, watching him walk away. When you looked back at Laurent, he was staring at you like someone who saw a ghost.

"Y/N? Do you know Daryl Dixon?" He asked, and the air caught in your throat. Your feet were no longer on the ground, everything around you seemed to stop. How did this kid, who just arrived from France, know Daryl?

"I, uh... Yeah, yeah, of course I know him. How do you know him? Have you seen him?" You asked back, desperation tangling in your words, and the boy seemed to notice as he nodded.

"We met in France, he helped me get to The Nest, but it didn't turn out so well..."

"The Nest? Sorry, Laurent, I really want to get to know you but," you said as you crouched down in front of him, gently taking him by the shoulders, "I need you to tell me if Daryl is alive, do you know that?”

"I haven't seen him the last time. Ash told us the plane wouldn't be able to fly with the four of us, so Daryl told me to fly with Carol, but—"

"Carol, you said Carol. A woman with short, gray hair?" At your question, Laurent nodded, making you let out a sigh of relief, but your heart was beating fast in your chest. "Okay, I'm sorry, keep going."

Laurent took a breath before continuing to speak. "Well, the four of us couldn't make it to the plane, so Daryl let the three of us fly, but Carol went out of the plane because we were being attacked by a group."

"Attacked?! But haven't you seen Daryl or Carol again?"

"No, mrs. Y/N, I was on the plane." The young man in front of you answered with some regret in his voice. You felt like you weren't making the best impression, but you couldn't help it. These were the two people you cared about most in the world, and you still didn't quite understand how the hell they had both managed to get to France. Sighing regretfully, you nodded a couple of times, disappointed at the idea of giving up, once again, the last clue you might have to Daryl's whereabouts. Standing up a little, but without moving your hands from Laurent's shoulders, you gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you for the information and I'm sorry if my first impression was not the best, Laurent. I'll tell you what? We're gonna introduce you to the class, and then we'll go for a slice of apple pie so you can tell me more about yourself, what do you think?" You asked, forcing yourself to smile at the boy in front of you. Laurent nodded, entering the classroom he would share with his classmates. Any fear you might have felt about the boy not being included was dispelled when you saw that the other kids were excited to meet someone who was not only not from the Commonwealth, but also came from the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

The day passed, and as you walked to the coffee shop alongside Laurent, you listened to his stories and his journey to get there. How he met Daryl, what he taught him, and the things he sacrificed to take care of him. He told you about his aunt Isabelle, and how she loved Daryl, assuring you that he loved her too, and how she braided her hair into a braid every morning, and the life she left behind to give one to him. And in that moment, with your heart a little crushed and tears threatening to fall, you noticed that the trees began to bloom, the sun was shining a little brighter, and maybe —just maybe— someone had heard your wishes. Laurent was the sign that everything was okay.

So you decided that from now on, everything would be okay.

For Laurent, for Daryl. For yourself.

Ezekiel had asked you to take Laurent under your care, trusting you because of the dedication everyone saw and had with Judith and RJ, so it became your personal project. If Daryl had decided that the boy was going to have a better life and sent him across the ocean, it was your duty to continue the work Daryl started. Every week, at least once or twice, you and Dog would go outside the walls when school was over, to practice with some weapons, and even travel beyond the Commonwealth. Judith, with whom he had become friends and debate partners, offered to give him lessons with the katana, although Laurent ended up preferring a bow and arrow, being his favorite weapon. You would never forget the hug he gave you when you gave him his first bow of his own, a smile from ear to ear as he said that now he could be like Daryl.

Rick and Michonne didn't waste any time and wanted to be a part of it too, when they were free from their respective jobs. RJ took the opportunity to sneak around older kids and bother them... sometimes, or almost always. With more people to look after the kids, all of you allowed yourselves to go a few miles further from the community, and although everyone had their guard up and didn't seem to be in any danger, beyond running into some lost walker, being a living person in an apocalyptic world never allowed you to be completely at peace.

While you were on the side of the road checking the SUV that seemed to have not survived the summer heat, Michonne had her eyes on the surroundings, while you and Rick tried to get the car to start so you could escape the hellish heat that was hitting the afternoon. Sitting in the driver's seat, with one leg out of the car, you looked out the window, watching the boys playing some game they had invented on the spot and laughing, making you smile, until your smile turned into a panicked expression.

“RJ, watch out!” You shouted, getting out of the car as you saw a walker approaching the youngest, who was a bit further away from the group and unarmed. He turned to look at you, scared, reacting in time and moving away from the dead one, Michonne being quick to cut his head off in a clean cut, rushing to hug her son. Rick looked up in alarm, calling them to come back closer to the car.

“Don't get too far, that was a lonely walker but there could be more, aight?” He questioned, approaching to adjust his son's hat, giving him a smile. The little boy nodded, knowing full well what his dad was referring to.

“Dad?” Judith said, reaching for the katana on her back as she looked towards the forest in front of you. As she looked towards the trees, a feeling of fear deepened in your stomach. It wasn't just a couple, but a big pack of walkers heading towards you, slowly but surely. There was no shelter, and the car still wasn't working. Circling the car as you pulled the knives out of their sheaths, you approached the group.

“Get in the car. Now.” You ordered. You weren't going to let your family expose themselves after everything they went through.

“Don't be stupid, you can't take them out by yourself. We need each other.” Michonne exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed her katana. “Kids, get in the car.”

RJ nodded, running towards the car to get inside, but Judith had a hard expression, while Laurent didn’t know what to do.

“Laurent, get in the car with RJ and Judith. It's gonna be okay.” You instructed, and although the boy seemed hesitant, he ended up obeying, but not before looking once more at everyone, as if wanting to remember their faces in case something happened.

“Judith, I'm not gonna say it again. Get in the car with your brother.” Rick ordered through clenched teeth, noticing how the horde seemed to be getting closer. Jude tightened his hands around the handle of her katana, looking at her dad in the eyes.

“I can fight. I'll stay here.”

“You can fight but you shouldn't, get in the car.” His dad repeated, punctuating the last sentence. As you looked between them and the horde, you stepped forward, raising your knives, Michonne at your side in formation, watching the dead advance towards you. In the air, the heat seemed to be more unbearable than it really was, but the worst thing was the tension, the feeling that every minute that passed was an opportunity for the horde to reach you.

You were the first to act. Moving forward with confident steps towards the first walker that approached with one of your knives raised, you stabbed the blade between its eyes with precision, making it fall to the ground, inert. But, without time to stop, two other walkers lunged at you, making you drop one of the knives while its rotten hands searched for meat. You dodged the first one, but the second one reached you, its firm hand on your arm. You screamed at the force you were exerting to stop it from getting any closer than necessary, but quickly, Rick appeared at your side and, with a precise blow, cut off the head of the dead one that had attacked you.

“I got you.” He said, swinging his axe, while turning to look at Judith with a hard expression. “I won't say it again.”

And with that, the girl —more frightened from the look on her dad’s face than from the horde— ran towards the car, getting in the backseat along with the two boys.

Meanwhile, Michonne was at his side, swinging her katana back and forth with force. Each blow she delivered cut flesh and bone, but for every walker that fell, others seemed to rise from the shadows of the scorching heat. The road seemed to have filled with the dead, their number increasing with each passing minute.

The hot air mixed with the nauseating smell of decomposing bodies, and the sound of screams and blows became a macabre symphony. The ground burned beneath your feet, but neither Rick, nor Michonne, nor you stopped. You knew that survival depended on being precise and working together.

As you hit another walker in the head, the back of the knife sinking into its skull with a thud. Sweat blinded your eyes, but it didn’t matter. Danger was everywhere, and you weren’t going to let anything happen to your family, even if your life was at stake. As you got cornered from the wave of walkers that didn’t seem to end, you whistled to get your friends’ attention.

“Let’s get in the car and wait it out! We won't make it!” You shouted, pushing a walker to the ground as Michonne moved to stomp on its skull. Nodding slightly, they both backed away to the car, watching as Rick continued to take out walkers with his axe and the knife in his other arm, not stopping for a moment.

“Rick, let’s go!” Michonne shouted, making him turn to look at her. His face was splattered with blood, as were his hands, and you didn’t dare look at yours because you knew you were just as bad or worse than him. As the three of you ran towards the car, you got rid of the few walkers that posed a threat near the vehicle, both to get in and to the children inside. Upon reaching it, you waited for them to get in first so you could pretend to get in and close the door behind them, clinging to the car’s railing and quickly climbing onto the roof, listening to the muffled screams of your family from inside the car, which was inevitably being surrounded by the dead ones. Taking the gun that you had in the waistband of your pants and had decided not to use because of the noise and the small number of bullets, you began to shoot as much as you could at the walkers that got too close. The air was thick, all your movements seemed to be automatic, you didn't understand how this was your daily life before being in the tranquility of the Commonwealth. In the midst of getting rid of the dead, you couldn't help but remember Carol and Daryl as soon as they had arrived in Alexandria, saying that the walls could make the group weaker. That's how you felt at that moment: weak.

Weak when you pulled the trigger and you had no more bullets, and there was no way to get into the car without getting out and exposing yourself. Weak when you got on your knees, with one hand held on the railing, as you continued to sink the edge of your knife into the skulls of the walkers, and your lungs seemed to burn from the effort you were making, not knowing if what you felt on your face was sweat or blood, or both. Weak when you heard gunshots around you, and you couldn't do anything else but try to cover yourself with your arms, almost lying on the roof of the car, but being able to see out of the corner of your eye that the walkers were falling in numbers. The sound of bullets was deafening, but so was the pounding of your heart in your ears. Eventually, when the blast of lead stopped, you dared to look down, meeting a pair of blue eyes you knew well.

“Carol?”

“Hi, pookie.” She exclaimed with a smile as her expression trembled. Leaving the knife and gun on the roof of the car, you jumped out of it as she simultaneously threw her gun to the ground, her arms wrapping around your body tightly. As you rubbed her back, you could hear a sob from her, as well as the car doors opening, exclamations of excitement and surprise from the Grimes family. You couldn’t believe she was finally here, back.

“Aunt Carol!” The Grimes brothers shouted, approaching to hug their aunt. Slowly moving away, you wiped your cheeks, which you didn’t know if they were wet with sweat or tears. Turning to look at Rick and Michonne, both of them watched the scene with emotion, but without having said it out loud, you were all thinking of the same person, not noticing the figure that was a few meters away from you, lowering his crossbow until it rested on the ground.

It was hard for Daryl to believe the scene before him. His luck had been so twisted over the years that it wouldn't surprise him to be close to death once again and that what he was experiencing was a hallucination. He looked for some mistake in the moment, something that would indicate to him that Laurent hadn't arrived safe and sound, that his nephew and niece weren't hugging his best friend, that his brother and his partner were alive and together. But no, they all existed and were there, at that moment. Even the love of his life.

The love of his life was there, under the brightest sun he had felt on his skin since he had gone away, and suddenly, everything was starting to make sense. The weight of his actions and the regret of even his own thoughts made his head spin, but even as he repeated over and over the mistakes he had made since he left you, he dared to take a step forward, entering his family's field of vision. The first to turn around was Rick, who held his gaze with an emotion that could have knocked him to the ground. Daryl pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding in greeting, the lump in his throat not letting him formulate a word. Rick, being more demonstrative than he could be, advanced with long strides until he reached his best friend, hugging him with the same strength they hugged when Daryl was freed from Negan's captivity, when the imminent threat of war was upon them but they still had time to rejoice in knowing they were alive. He lowered his head, resting his forehead on the shoulder of his brother, of the man who forced himself to think he was dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain and keep searching, more than once. Moving away so they could see each other, Rick laughed through his tears when he noticed that his best friend was crying too.

“Feels good to have you back, brother.” He said, patting the archer on the shoulder, to which he nodded.

“Feels good t'be back.” He replied, directing his gaze at Michonne, at Carol, his traveling companion, at the children, and finally at you, who seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing if he was a ghost or if that was really happening. “Not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.”

“You better not leave again, Dixon. I'll kick your ass, I'm not even kidding.” Michonne said, approaching with a smile so she could hug him, to which he happily responded. It was no news that physical contact was not something he completely liked, but he wouldn't avoid it. He wasn't going to avoid it this time. His hands were shaking from the exciting moment he was experiencing, and beyond the hug with Michonne, he could still watch you, unable to decipher your expression easily. Before he could react, as his friend walked away, the three kids rushed towards him, while he tried to hug them back. Carol was hugged on either side by Rick and Michonne, while you stood with your arms crossed watching the whole sequence.

“Knew you’d come back.” Laurent said, giving a smile to Daryl, who smiled back, nodding.

“I promised I would. I was still gonna find ya, whether you like it or not.” Daryl replied, playfully ruffling his hair. Judith, silently and being more perceptive than the other two children, carefully stepped away from her uncle, approaching you to take your hand. Her fingers intertwined with yours, causing you to look down at her. You responded with a smile and a squeeze of her hand before looking forward again, noticing Daryl approaching you. Before he could get much closer, you took a few steps forward, shortening the distance, bringing one of your hands, trembling, to his cheek. With your thumb you traced that scar that seemed to be more alive than ever, but that somehow, highlighted the color of his eyes. His lip busted, a black eye, another scar on his other cheek, multiple scars on his forehead and still, you saw the most beautiful man that ever existed. It was like the sunlight had transformed into a human form, and he was standing right in front of you, tilting his head against your palm. His hand went to your wrist, caressing it as he watched you, causing you to pull away. Daryl felt your touch on his skin like a burning heat, even though you were no longer touching him.

“I’m glad you're back, Daryl.” You said, your voice mentioning his name was music to his ears. He still couldn't figure you out and it was frustrating him, but he would let what had to happen happen. After all, he had used up every chance you had given him, and he knew he was wrong from the moment he got on his motorcycle to leave everything behind.

“I'm happy yer still here.” He dared to say, and it took everything in him to be able to find his voice in the midst of the anguish. With a half smile, you nodded, turning to look at your friends, your family, as you took a breath before speaking.

“So… are we ready to go home?”

The drive to the Commonwealth seemed to be quicker than it usually was. The car, as if by magic, had started up without any problems. The kids were more than happy to have their uncle back, Rick and Michonne were talking to each other, and you looked back through the windshield of the car at Daryl and Carol, who were coming behind you on Daryl's motorcycle that they had magically been able to find. You didn't want to know how that had happened.

Arriving home? That was another major event. Daryl hadn't been forgotten in the Commonwealth, and for every step he took, there was a different person greeting or welcoming him. Aaron, Maggie, and Lydia were happy to hear from him and Carol, asking them to go to Alexandria as soon as they could. As quickly as he could, Laurent went to get Dog, who kept wagging his tail and crying between barks as Daryl petted him. It took a while for the furry one to get away from his owner, but Laurent took him for a walk so Daryl could get on with what he had to do. Everything seemed to be falling back into place, but Daryl felt that the only thing he was missing was having a well-deserved talk with you, who disappeared as soon as they set foot inside the community. When the people stopped pestering him, he allowed himself a visit to the doctor (forced by Rick) who assured him that he was in perfect condition, beyond a few cuts or bruises here and there, which were healed and bandaged for his safety.

“Now you can go rest, you deserve it.” Rick said, hugging him by the shoulders as they walked out of the hospital. Daryl shook his head, looking ahead, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Nah. I gotta talk to ‘er.” He muttered, squinting as he felt the sun’s rays hit his face, now turning to look at his friend.

Rick nodded a couple of times. “Yeah, I know.” He said in a much quieter voice than before, searching for the right words before speaking again. “You and Y/N are the last people I saw at the bridge, you know? And that image was my best company for a while, as well as Michonne and Jude. I knew she had your back, and you had hers too. I found peace knowing that.”

Daryl, for the first time in a long time, let out a sob that he couldn’t control, quickly wiping away any trace of tears with the back of his hand. The weight of the people he’d lost, the times he’d walked away from everyone, the image of the bridge exploding, the search for Rick, the trip to France, continuing to run from the consequences of his bad decisions, having to let Isabelle go and Laurent face a new world alone. He felt tremendously responsible, but he felt even worse for leaving despite your asking him not to.

“I fail- I failed ‘er. She ain't supposed t’deal with all of this.” He said, trying to control the tremble in his voice, while Rick's hand pressed on his shoulder, letting him know he was there for him.

“None of us is supposed to deal with the bullshit we dealt, man. She stayed because she knew you were worth it,” taking a breath, he searched for his friend's gaze, failing in the attempt, “and I still don't know if I deserved Michonne’s loyalty, but she gave it to me, and now? I'm not gonna let that go, and you shouldn't either.”

With a pat on the chest, and noticing that Daryl wasn't going to respond with more than a nod, he walked him to the door of your apartment, before waving and leaving. With his heart pounding, he knocked on the door a few times, knowing that he could have locked himself in another time because that home belonged to him too. Noticing that there was no answer or noise from the other side, he leaned against the door, almost falling backwards when it suddenly opened. Looking around, he noticed that no one had opened it, but that the handle seemed to be faulty. If you weren't home, why was the door open?

Entering quietly, he closed the door behind him, observing his surroundings. Despite the time that had passed, nothing was too different. Order was always something that characterized you, and this was no exception: everything was where it should be. Approaching the fridge, he noticed some drawings made by Judith and RJ, even one made by Laurent, stealing a smile from him. A little higher up, there was a polaroid that he could recognize well. The group had recently arrived in Alexandria, and you were both on the stairs of the house you all shared the first night. He was sitting on the steps, one of his arrows in his hands while his crossbow was next to him, you sitting behind him, a few steps up, your arms around his shoulders with a huge smile on your lips, while he was focused on whatever he was doing with the arrow. He didn't remember who had taken the photo, but he couldn't believe that you still kept it, and that it was preserved without problems despite all those years that had passed.

“We were young, huh?” Daryl turned quickly, finding you behind him, at a safe distance, a cigarette between your fingers as you watched him with your head slightly tilted.

“Yer still younger than me, but uh... I'm sorry, I ain't—”

“I knew you were coming sooner or later, Daryl, it's okay. The door’s broken anyways.” You assured him, taking another drag of the cigar, letting out the smoke a few seconds later and using your opposite hand to break up that cloud. “You want one?” You asked, raising your hand to refer to the cigarette, him shaking his head without hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder when you had started smoking, given that the smell had made you wrinkle your nose in disgust a while back.

“Nah, thanks. I wanted to talk to ya.” He said, shifting his weight on his legs while staring at you, trying to notice little things that changed in your face while he was away, but he couldn't find any. The only thing that was different was your hair, and you still looked as beautiful as ever to him. “I, uh… I wanted to say sorry, and thank you for taking care of Laurent. He's been through a lot and he's just a kid, so yeah, thanks.”

As he finished speaking, he couldn't help but feel like an idiot at the words he chose. He wanted to run away and bury his head in the ground, so that no one would perceive him as a human being ever again.

“I did it from the heart and out of love, so you don't owe me anything. Not a thank you, not a sorry. I did it because I felt and knew it was the right thing to do, and because I knew you were sending him.” You started to speak, approaching the kitchen table, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray that was on it, right where Daryl stood on the other end. “You know? The day Laurent showed up, I had decided to go after you and Carol, but then he came along and I knew it was the sign that everything was okay. And maybe I held on to that illusion for too long, without any certainty since the day you left, but it was the first time in months that I felt and knew that everything would be okay.”

Daryl nodded, understanding what you meant, and knowing that there would be no way to apologize without you wanting to ignore it. “I wish I could’ve asked ya if ya wanted to take care of ‘im, and I'm sorry for that.”

“Laurent has been a great companion the last few months. He told me great things about you, about Isabelle.” You said as you sat down, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same, but he remained stuck in his place. His body seemed to be made of the heaviest material in the world, because he couldn't manage to move after what he had heard.

“Listen, I—”

“You don't have to expl—”

“I have to! I need to explain.” He interrupted you, exasperated. “When I left, it was never because of ya. Never. I thought I’d had the chance to make things right while I was away, but I didn't, I fucked it up like I always do. I couldn't protect the people I was ‘posed to protect. I promised Isabelle and I promised Laurent a new life here, a life where they could be free.”

Gripping the back of the chair, he leaned slightly, not daring to look you in the eye. “And I failed again, and the worst part is I realized that the only thing that kept me going was this.” Carefully, he reached under his shirt, taking that chain you had given him with your ring, making you gasp in surprise. You thought he might have lost it in all that time, but it turns out he never stopped having it around his neck. “T’was never Laurent or Isabelle or anything, it was you. I was worried outta my mind thinking how you’d be, if you were even alive. And fer every time I thought ‘bout giving up, you were the person I thought. Comin’ back home to ya.”

You didn’t know when, or how, but your cheeks seemed to be soaked in tears, trying to keep quiet as you listened to the man you loved with the strength of a thousand suns. Wiping your cheeks with the palm of your hand, you watched him walk around the table, stopping right in front of you, his hands cupping your face as gently as possible, feeling the leather of his gloves on your skin, while his thumbs caressed your cheekbones.

“I don't… I don't even know what to say.” You murmured, looking up to look at him, soaking in every little detail of his face once again. “I waited for those words for so long. I cursed your name too many times, only to beat myself up to think about you in that way. I'm sorry for not being the partner you needed, Daryl, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.”

The archer shook his head, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I told ya. You're more than enough, and I'm sorry for makin' you doubt it, it's me that's gotta say sorry.”

“I guess we're both sorry, but I'm scared, Dar.” You admitted, making him move away so he could see you. With a sound of effort, he squatted down in front of you, his hands on your knees.

“What are you scared about, sunshine?” He asked, taking your hands in his, caressing the back of them. Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head, not knowing whether to say the next words or not.

“I'm scared of you leaving again. I can't stand another goodbye, not from you, not again.” Sighing in a ragged manner, you met his blue eyes watching you with understanding, without having to explain much more to understand. “And I also don't wanna be selfish, because it'll be cruel if I make you do something you don't want, but I can't help how I feel.”

“Listen to me, woman.” He ordered as soon as you finished speaking, perhaps seeming too eager to clarify what he felt. “I ain't leavin’, not again, not without you at least. Can we start over?”

“We'll stay, and we'll start over.” You said, nodding your head. Carefully, Daryl brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His forehead met yours, and for the first time in a long time, you smiled genuinely.

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

But maybe this time, just this time, you would give them another chance.

[clairewritesfanfics]

if there were enough supplies in the wasteland for the marks to survive until angstrom got back on his bullshit what do you think wouldve happened?

(I will be basing my answer on my headcanons about the Marks' personalities and mainly the TV show variants.)

First, I'm going to rank them from most to least reasonable: Omni-Mark, Viltrumite > Full Mask, Maskless > Shiesty, Target, Sinister > Prisoner.

Omni would try to lead the group, he has strong big brother/dad energy and from what we've seen in his fight with Main!Mark, he has great control over his powers, which implies discipline, which implies patience. I imagine he would be very willing to wait things out. He doesn't seem like someone who would go around murdering everyone else right off the bat, the risk-reward ratio would be too low because the others would surround him. The same thinking can be applied with Viltrumite. However, taking a leadership role means that he (just Omni here) has all the power and most of the trust. Backstabbing is not out of the question once the numbers dwindle.

Full Mask and Maskless would be antsy but also cooperative. (I still haven't fleshed them out in my head so I'm afraid that's all I can say.)

Target comes off as an impudent thing, very childish, but not to the same extent as Shiesty. I feel like his "I won't keep you as a slave in my empire" was more like a disappointed superior than a kid throwing a tantrum, so while he doesn't like the situation, he's going to cooperate.

Sinister is manipulative and while a little arrogant, he isn't stupid. He's going to play nice to ensure his survival.

Shiesty maybe immature, but he gives off spoiled baby brother vibes. He is the baby of the bunch (even if they're likely all the same age), and like all babies, he may cry and whine, but he is still going to obey his older "siblings."

Prisoner, my darling, my baby, he would be furious and upset. He went straight from one prison to another. He'll pick fights and fly around screaming, trying to find a way out. The others have to wait for him to calm down before they can start conversing properly.

edit: I forgot about Mohawk. Having a harem is harder than it looks. I need to make a checklist.

Omni-Mark, Viltrumite > Full Mask = Maskless = Mohawk > Shiesty, Target, Sinister > Prisoner

Mohawk isn't an idiot. He knows that banding together, even if temporarily, is smarter than fighting or leaving the group. He doesn't want to murder anyone for no reason, so when he works with the others, he isn't pretending, he's genuine in his efforts to stay alive. Hopefully, everyone would still be alive so they can kill Angstrom together.

inside the little theatre (random scenes that form in my head, you may ignore them if you want)

You/Me: I love them!

The judge holding my harem responsible for their actions: They murdered over a million people across the multiverse.

Us: *shakes head dramatically* If they died then that's a skill issue on their part! They're just NPCs!

[kokomyass]

Neuvillette ☆ To be a Father

Neuvillette x Fem!Reader Genre: ☁️ Word Count: 1943 Trigger Warnings ⚠️ : none!!

synopsis: in which, our cutesy hydro dragon is afraid he doesn't have what it takes to be a father...

a/n: hey guys yet again, half asleep when posting this....too tired to edit...really hope you enjoy this lowkey gave me baby fever 🔮🌙🔮

Neuvillette always thought of himself as an outcast to human society.

He would observe human customs and analyse them for decades trying to understand humans and their thoughts.

However, there was one concept he had never seemed to grasp despite his hundred years on Teyvat....and that was the concept of love.

Whether it was romantic love, platonic love or familial love, he always pondered what it would be like to fall in love?

Would it be a noticiable thing? Or would it be something that is destined from birth.

No matter how much he would tell himself he didn't need any sort of love, he always felt an ache in his heart seeing couples and their children interact.

However, that aching feeling in his heart soon turned to a warm one when he met you.

The feelings he felt around you exceeded any sort of feelings he thought he would feel after witnessing and analysing others relationships.

You were perfect in his eyes. You were beautiful and you were kind. You always knew how to reassure him when he became insecure about how he struggled to feel like he was included in society.

You knew Neuvillette was a genuinely caring individual no matter how humble he may try to be. He was always very busy but he always made sure to spend time with you even if it is while he is working.

That's why you knew he would be an amazing father.

"Hey, Neuvi, sweetheart!! I have some news...." you walked into his office as he looked up from the papers he was writing in with a warm smile reserved for you.

"What news do you have for me, my dear?" you were now stood in front of his desk. You placed your positive pregnancy test on his desk as he looked at it taking a moment to register what it was.

"I'm pregnant!"

The look of complete and utter shock on Neuvillette's face was something that would never make an appearance again...but you also couldn't ignore his trembling when he hugged you.

Neuvillette was happy to hear you were pregnant of course, it was something he yearned for many, many years, but he didn't know if he had what it took to bring up a child of his own....he wasn't even human.

After you gave birth you noticed that it began to rain quite a bit which made you chuckle slightly knowing that your husband was just a bit emotional about the birth of his own child.

Which brought you to where you both were now. It had been a week since your beautiful daughter was born and you had noticed Neuvillette had become very faraway. You often found yourself asking him things multiple times before he could actually answer, and he seemed to be acting rather clumsy (and for the record neuvillette is NEVER clumsy...) and it wasn't that he wasn't interacting with his daughter but when he would he would looked AWFULLY stiff...

"Ugh....I don't know what to do you guys!!" you rocked your sleeping daughter back and forth sighing.

You had invited your friends Chlorinde, Navia and Furina to your home to help you with Neuvillette's odd behaviour.

"Well, Y/N, have you spoken to him?" Navia suggested.

"Yes, Navia, of course I have! I asked him what the issue is and I even asked if it was about him thinking he wasn't a good father! But the same answer is always given....'I'm fine dear, don't worry about me just a bit tired is all'  and then he calls it a day!!" You were getting stressed as you began to rock your baby a bit faster.

"Y/N, maybe we should...uh...calme-toi...you might wake up your daughter..." Furina patted your arm, sweatdropping slightly. You sighed as you slowed your movements.

"Your right...I just wish he would talk more you know, he doesn't have to take everything on alone now..." you looked down at your baby sleeping calmly.

"Well, Y/N, knowing how much he loves you I'm sure he will open up sooner or later...and I believe he will have to for the sake of your future with you daughter." Chloride stated, making you feel slightly better.

"Yes! Maybe you can ask Sigewinne, maybe Neuvillette may seek advice from her especially if he doesn't want you to know!" Navia butted in as she poored some tea for everyone.

"You guys are right!! Thank you guys you always know how to help!" a wave of tiredness washed over you as your felt your daughter begin to stir awake.

"As much as I would love to carry on talking my baby needs to eat and I think the postpartum symptoms are hitting me...."

You said goodbye to everyone and sat in bed feeding your daughter before placing her in her bed to sleep. Your eyes felt heavy and lidded and as much as you wanted to stay awake for Neuvillette, your body betrayed you.

You felt a soft kiss on your head as you stirred awake looking up to see your husband's soft and beautiful eyes glowing at you.

"My deepest apologies to you my dear, work was extremely busy..." you chuckled softly as you hugged him tightly, interrupting his sentence.

"Don't worry my love, as long as your okay that's all that matters. We missed you." he smiles as he turns to the small bed your cute daughter is sleeping in.

"I missed you both an immense amount" He strokes her cheek softly but the flash of sadness that was on his face for a millisecond didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Neuvi, what is wrong, please tell me." you grabbed his hand and forced him to look at you. He looked a bit shocked for a moment before hiding it under a very faint smile.

"Y/N, don't worry, you need to stay healthy and happy, especially for our daughter." he strokes your hair as you frown at his answer.

He went to sleep next to you as it was nothing but you were going to find out what was going on.

Time Skip

You had secretly made it to the Fortress of Meropide to visit some good friends.

"Are you ready for this D/N?" you look down at your daughter in her little pram as she giggles excitedly clapping her hands together.

"That's my girl! Let's go!" you kissed your daughters nose before pushing her towards the infirmary.

You made it to the infirmary and you were lucky enough to see both Sigewinne and Wriothesley there having a conversation. Sigewinne was the first to notice you.

"Y/N!!!! It's so nice to see you! And you too little Y/N!!" Sigewinne ran up to you as you gave her a hug and she pat your daughters head making her giggle.

"It's nice to see you too Sigewinne! And hello Wriothesley."

"Hey there, Y/N..." Wriothesley walked up to you smiling. "Does ya kid still hate me?"

You laughed, "Let's see" you pointed to your daughter as Wriothesley put his finger out to her and she grabbed it giggling.

"Would you look at that!! Finally warming up to your uncle!!"

That's what Wriothesley thought before your daughter began biting his finger very hard.

"OWW! Why you-" he squinted at your child as you laughed.

Time went on and you explained the situation to them.

"I must say Neuvillette randomly came down here to talk to me...he never does that unless he wants to get his mind off something." Wriothesley folded his arms pondering.

"Yep! And Monsieur Neuvillette asked me if it is possible to bring up a child even if you aren't human...now it makes sense why he asked that. Of course I said yes!!" Sigewinne and Wriothesley had confirmed your suspiciouns.

"Oh, Neuvi, he may have the most authority in the whole of Fontaine, but he doesn't know how to listen to me..." you sighed shaking your head.

"Who would've thought a little girl would make him act like this? This is the first time I have veer seen him like this..." Wriothesley chuckles.

"Me too....I've been hear for as long as I can remember and he's never been this distressed...." Sigewinne but in placing a finger on her chin.

"Well, I suppose I should go and talk to him then...thank you so much for your help guys idk what I would do without you." you bid farewell to you Fortress companions before making your way to the Palais Mermonia.

Time Skip

You made it to the Palais Mermonia and rushed through all the doors until you made it to Neuvillette's office pushing the double doors open walking in with your pram.

"Neuvillette, we need to talk."

Neuvillette looked up from his work, shocked to see you there. He stood up and walked towards you.

"Y/N, what's going on? What wrong why do we need to-"

"Do you think you aren't going to be a good enough father to our daughter?" you folded your arms staring at him in the eyes.

Neuvillette stared at you wide-eyed, he stayed silent and looked at the floor avoiding your eyes.

You cupped his face in your hands and turned his head to lock eyes with you. You placed you lips on his softly as he melted into the sweet and soft kiss that had heavy emotion subdued in it.

"Neuvi...why would you ever think that? When I told you I was pregnant, I had no doubts or fears....not one...because I knew that no matter what you would craft our daughter into an amazing one with your amazing qualities. I know it sound cheezy....but Neuvi, I couldn't choose any other man to be the father of my daughter, so please, don't feel like you aren't enough your daughter loves you, and I love you and as long as you try that's all we care about."

You spilled your heart out as you stared at each other.

"I-" Neuvillette began speaking but suddenly it began to slowly rain outside.

You chucked, pressing a kiss on his nose.

"No need to feel sad my love." Neuvillette chuckled at your joke.

He looked at your daughter (who was really excited to see her dad) and picked her up rocking her back and forth.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't tell you. I felt like being a dragon, i have no human exlerience and i would lead out child down the wrong path. I should've told you so we could work it out but I just felt so unsure I found myself going to Wriothesley and Sigewinne for comfort. But none of that comfort I'd as good as the comfort of my family I must admit."

You chuckled hugging him tightly being careful now to wake the now asleep baby.

"Does this mean you will do nappy changes?"

"Of course, dear, I must relieve you of that stress!"

"This is why I love you~" You placed a kiss on his lips as he smiled warmly, a smile reserved for you AND his daughter.

"I love you both, my happiness."

A lil bonus:

It was nighttime and the baby had woken up crying and Neuvillette had gone to take care of it.

However, you being a curious little cat, you spied on them.

Neuvillette held her on his chest patting her back, humming a sweet melody to her.

"...Papa..." you daughter said her first word.

You could tell Neuvillette didn't seem to understand the significance of this based on how he carried on with whatever he was doing.

Meanwhile  you were crying...

Luckily, you were recording....it would be a reminder to explain to him later.

a/n: SOMEONE TELL ME THAT THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE BECAUSE I WAS A MESS WRITING THIS SHIT um love you guys hopw you enjoy anon that requested too 💜💜🍇🍇

[byelacey]

so you want to keep a great pyrenees as a pet

recently a little comic i made did big numbers on here and i keep seeing tags like "gotta get me a great pyrenees" and like AWESOME there are SO MANY of these big boys looking for adoption, especially in the US but i feel like as a person who got a pyr as their first dog (because i'm insane) there are some things you need to know - they BARK. all day and all night. they've been bred for barking. this is not bond spyxfamily borfing this is LOUD and CONSTANT. barking is their job. working pyrs protect their livestock by looking intimidating, bluff charging and barking very loud. they're also often naturally nocturnal, which means a lot of their barking is done at night. if you're the type who doesn't enjoy loud noises for most hours of the day, reconsider keeping a great pyr as a pet - they are LARGE. they are large when they are hormonal, idiot puppies. their bodies grow VERY FAST but their brain takes 2-3 years to catch up and during that time you've got a 75-150lb puppy on your hands. everything is more expensive because your dog is big, too. beds, accessories, food, vet stuff, medication, grooming, *everything is more expensive* for big dogs. get yourself some pet insurance. you'll thank yourself later. - they're sensitive creatures who form strong bonds with their flock. if you're keeping one as a pet: congratulations, you're now this dog's flock. separation anxiety is huge. they're meant to be guarding their flock, and if you go off without them, they're gonna worry about you. they also don't take well to you shouting at them for doing their job (barking very loud at wayward leaves). i'm serious. they're so so sensitive. - they're extremely smart and independent, which reads as stubbornness to us. they think they know better because they've been bred to work on their own, without humans around to tell them what to do. they're gonna pick up commands really fast, but they do shit on their own time. and recall? forget it. "an off-leash pyr is a dissa-pyr", as the saying goes. this is not a dog you'll be able to have off-leash, as he's gonna do and go wherever he damn well pleases - THAT BEING SAID as they are a large breed dog (extra large, actually), training is extremely important. small untrained dogs can get away with a lot more than a large dog. some people are afraid of dogs. you need to teach your pyr early and often what isn't a threat to you so they aren't causing trouble with their guardian shenanigans - they shed. they drool. they're large, double-coated dogs with big jowls. i have cleaned drool off of every surface of my house, including the ceiling. they blow their coat twice a year and also shed undercoat all of the time. i brush mac once a week during regular season and every other day when he's blowing his coat so that his coat stays healthy and doesn't become impacted or matted. - EDIT: someone just tagged this with a great point as well. you need a lot of space for a pyr! a fenced backyard, at least, with a fence tall enough they can't easily climb over (6ft preferably). they aren't high energy dogs but they do get a lot out of being able to roam around and patrol their yard. they are not apartment dogs (unless you walk them a lot, and you hate your neighbours) admittedly my fenced backyard isn't huge, but mac gets around 2-2.5 hours of walking per day, split between a morning & afternoon walk. they need the mental stimulation of walking around and sniffing stuff! if i haven't scared you off yet, owning a great pyr as a pet is a difficult, but rewarding experience. try and find a breed-specific shelter, there are many, because unfortunately these dogs are overbred in the US (either on purpose or by accident), and they're also often surrendered as puppies because people didn't know what they were getting into. a shelter will also take your lifestyle into consideration when pairing you up with a dog, because they want to find permanent homes for these guys.

anyway i think that's it. and if you have a pyr i am wishing you a very (show me your dog)

[pumpkinhimiko]

"Mistranslations" that are not mistranslations

Now with an additional part 2.

NISA has made plenty of mistakes while translating the Danganronpa series (and I've complained about them before), and so they have a reputation of being untrustworthy. But because of this reputation, I feel like fans are too quick to trust whatever anyone that isn't NISA states as absolute fact. So, I want to examine some instances of fan translators claiming NISA has mistranslated something, when, no, actually, they didn't.

Kokichi's last words

人にやらされるゲームなんて…楽しい訳あるかよ… A game you're forced to play... how could that be fun...

This is probably the most widespread myth in terms of "mistranslations that aren't", with the original post that makes this claim having over 2k notes: that Kokichi in the original Japanese actually says, "How could a game where you're forced to kill people be fun...?" Unfortunately, it's just not true. Fortunately for me, there's a reddit post here that breaks the line down in detail, so I don't have to do any work.

Anyway, I really wanted to make this post because of this thread, which makes several false claims.

 Kokichi says he's afraid of friends in general

オレは、そういう『仲間』が他人よりも怖いけどねー。I'm more afraid of those kinds of [friends] than strangers.

So... souiu, meaning that type of/that kind of is right there, directly before nakama (which can mean friend, especially if it's in a shounen anime, but can also just mean companion/member of a group). I don't understand how you can miss this. Not only is it right there, this claim on its face doesn't make sense. Why, in this context, would Kokichi suddenly blurt out that he's afraid of having friends? It has nothing to do with the conversation they're having.

Shuichi's words to Kokichi after the 4th trial

王馬くん、もういいだろ ? Ouma-kun, isn't this enough? その話を聞かせてくれよ。Tell us about that.

Okay, you've probably heard the phrase mou ii a lot if you watch anime, and it's almost always accompanied by a frustrated huff. Because it is, in fact, something you say when impatient, fed up, what have you. It literally means "good already", carrying pretty much the identical meaning of the English phrase, "that's enough" or "I've had enough". Shuichi does not say it's okay as in it's daijoubu, which is the word you use when trying to comfort someone. He is very much frustrated here and telling Kokichi to fess up.

Citation needed

I couldn't find a line like this in Kokichi's FTEs, but maaaaaaaybe I missed it? Shuichi's narration comments quite a few times on Kokichi acting childishly throughout the game, but I couldn't find anything like this in specific.

EDIT: Correction, I did find it, and it's covered in part two. Suffice to say, the OP got this line completely wrong.

That Kaito thing

Yeah this is patently false. It's also already been touched on in this thread with comments backing it up, so there’s another thing I don't have to get into. I'll put the text here though.

オレはテメーみて一に胸クソ悪い真似までして、If I have to mimic your sickening behavior, 生き残りて一とは思わねーんだよ。I don't think I want to survive.

Shuichi's words to Kokichi after the 4th trial part deaux

I've seen varying claims on how these lines were translated, from them being slightly tweaked, to the claim they were completely butchered to make Saihara too aggressive. I'm just going to leave it here and let you come to your own conclusions.

ダサいのはキミの方だよ…王馬くん。The lame one is you... Ouma-kun.

百田くんの周りにはいつも人が集まってくる… Momota-kun always has people around him... でも、キミの周りには誰もいないじゃないか。But, there's no one around you.

キミは…その程度のヤツって事だよ。That's... what kind of person you are.

This is snappy in its own way, though, if you consider that 程度 is closer to meaning grade/level/degree rather than simply "type of". "That's the level of person you are," basically.

And if you doubt me on any of this, I encourage you to do your own research, get second opinions if you can. I know not everyone knows Japanese, in which case you can't really help but rely on someone else and hope their translation is accurate. That said, at the bare minimum, I think people should provide screenshots and the original Japanese text if they're going to claim something is a mistranslation. Like, I don't think you should be able to say "actually in Japanese Kokichi says he volunteers at animal shelters in his free time but NISA cut it!" and have half the fandom believe you with no proof.

[unveiledelle]

Ever wondered what Claggor's life must have been like before he met his found family? Well here are my headcanons.

Claggor's Past

Contains: Theories about his early life, how I think he developed some of his traits in canon, and how I came up with some of my previous headcanons. Disclaimer: Basically just rambling. The following are all just speculations and may be biased to my own perspective. I am by no means a psychology major. So if I say something incorrect, please do not hesitate to correct me. Thank you :>

Early life

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ Grew up in Zaun in a big family. May have been a middle child too, and is somewhere in the lower-middle age range among his siblings.

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ Parents worked in the mines, but died due to one catastrophic accident that caused the people from the undercity to protest against Piltover, which unfortunately lead to the bridge fight.

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ Older siblings were caught in the crossfire and died leading Claggor and his younger siblings to fend for themselves. Unfortunately, his younger siblings died from lung problems and malnutrition.

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ Became a "trash picker" (I'm not really sure what the correct english term for it, but there's this thing in 3rd world countries where poor people living in the slums scavenge through dumpsters to look for cool finds that they can later on sell or trade).

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ Vander found him first before Mylo. They met when Claggor tried to sell the scraps (which ofc doesn't cost much) he found to Benzo. Vander reminded Claggor of his younger self and was immediately fond of him, so he adopted him.

Now some rambling, because for some reason I couldn't get my thoughts straight to form a well-rounded headcanon list lmao

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ I think one of the reasons why Claggor is the type of person that is afraid to stand his ground or speak his thoughts loudly is because he's used to being ignored by the people around him (not necessarily in a mean-spirited way, but simply because they tend to be stubborn). And in my opinion, Claggor is naturally pessimistic, which can be an annoying trait his old family think he has.

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ Whenever he tries to speak up, people either disregard him or ignore him completely. And since he came from a big family, I imagine his voice was often drowned out by other family members. I also think this is part of why he grew so close to Mylo, because he sees right through him and relates to him. Being someone who suffered the middle child syndrome himself, he empathizes with Mylo's desire to be seen as important within their found family.

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ Claggor may also be the kind of middle child that was ignored all the time but was expected to be responsible (may have older siblings that aren't as present so he chooses to cover their responsibilities in the house instead).

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ I think Claggor wears his goggles because he has a fear of being perceived. It's a way for him to hide his face. I don't think he has any issues with his eyesight since we don't see him wearing them when he's reading. (edit: oops i was wrong lol) From my observation, in all his scenes from S1Act1, he only ever removes his goggles when he's alone with his siblings in a private place, or when he's with people he's comfortable with.

‧₊˚ ⋅ ❥ He may also be insecure about his size because he's a big guy for his age. I like to think that he puts up his hoodie (yes he also has a hoodie like Vi) as a way to make himself feel smaller. Make it hurt a little more when you think about my headcanon about his younger siblings dying because of malnutrition (additional: Claggor is malnourished too. Malnutrition is not exclusive to thin people only).

End.

That is all for now. I'll post headcanons about Mylo's past too as soon as they're long enough to be in a proper post. I just need to wait for the last fragments of prophecy to reveal themselves in my mind lol

[starrrlights]

Based on something in my notes app (copy and pasted too but edited to make sense) maybe oc Jay? Idk

you and Jason had became friends when you were on the streets, helping each other when needed and also just being there for each other. When he became robin, with #BruceWayneBenifits, he was able to help you more. Often letting you have sleepovers at the manor and hanging out. You both grow to have feeling for each other, and you were planning on telling him on his birthday or sum, but he died. So you never find out if he felt the same way or not (he does)

Time skip (5? Possibly 6 even?) Years later when Jason comes back alive and is less vengeful of his death, Jason frequently goes to old book stores to find good books to read. He goes to one frequently and the vibe felt off that day.

He thinks there might be a threat and keeps a good eye on everything. While browsing; surprise, surprise, you are there. Standing somewhat next to him. You obviously don't recognize him right away or at all from how different he looks. You're trying to find a specific book that a friend had recommended and just so happen to get closer to Jason little by little. (You have social anxiety)

You don't want to get to close to this person because of personal space and well, he's huge. Handsome looking, but huge, and a lot of scars. Which was kinda a hot look on him. You steal a few glances at him, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Jason does notice, since the Pit heightened his senses. (I think? I read it from somewhere that it did 🤷‍♀️) He finally looks over at you, expecting you to just be a normal Gothamite who is just scared of his size; when he freezes for a second. Recognizing the your hair and style almost immediately. He thinks he's hallucinating. There no way it was you.

You notice that he was looking at you and you almost shy at his gaze. Mumbling a sorry and returning your gaze to the books in front of you, but knowing that the book you're looking for is probably right in front of the man.

Jason panics a lot in the inside. Do you recognize him? Do you hate him? Are you afraid of him? He's you jaybird, why you'd you be afraid?

You mentally punch yourself and raised your voice a bit, taking a breath.

U: "I think that book I'm looking for is by you. Can I look?"

Oh my god, he's going to say no-

J: "Sure, that's fine."

God, if you could faint, you would. Not only looks handsome, but sounds handsome.

Jason on the other hand let's put a mental and physical sigh of relief, now thinking that you probably don't even recognize him. It saddens him a little at that thought but it was better, way better than having you scared of him.

He scoots over and you scoot closer, looking over more books until your predictions were right and the book you were looking for was right by where he was standing. You mutter a thank you and move so he can continue looking in the spot he was in.

He doesn't even register that you were moving away because he was so enchanted by you. you had grown up and matured. And damn did you look good. A lot better than he did in his opinion.

J: "I-uh, have me met before?"

Jason asked. 'Great going, idiot. All the romance novels you've read and that's what you come up with?' He thinks to himself.

U: "..I don't think so? What's your name?"

He's sweating bullets now. What does he say? Does he sat jason or use a fake name?

"Jason"

You've met many Jason's so you don't think about it. But there seems to be a familiar aura to him. But you can't put a finger on it. It's going to eat you up later but you put the thought to the side for now. Out of habit you stuck your hand out in a polite way.

"(Name)"

Jason almost said "I know" but bite his tongue and nodded, reaching out to shake you hand. Jesus, you hand fit so well with his. So warm and welcoming.

you and Jason talk for a bit more, it was awkward but it worked. You ended up switching numbers for "book recommendations". But you both were giggling like school girl in the inside because of it.

Over several months, you got to know Jason. And he reminded you a lot of Jason, your dead friend and crush. It saddened you a bit but you decided to not dwell on the past so much. You'll just visit his grave soon, again.

It wasn't long before Dick encouraged Jason to ask you on a date. Well, going out for coffee/fav drink bev and talk about books. You agreed and you did the date.

You had a great time. It was slightly awkward but it was just like all the other hang outs, but more special.

Jason asks you what your life is like because he wants to know what your life has been like since he was gone. He had asked before during those mothes about resent stuff, but he wanted to know more, like high-school years and such.

Boring, you said. Mostly the same thing over and over again. You told some funny stories and it made Jason want to genuinely smile. He makes up a few things to not have to talk about the Pit or dying. Or being Red Hood.

You go on a few more dates and finally, he takes you on a fancy one. (Using Bruce's card ofc)

You initially declined going on a fancy date, not really having the money or outfits for it but jason insisted and said he'd had one of his friends to go with for shopping if you needed it. (Steph or Cass idk, some fem friend he has.)

You ended up going shopping with his friend and got a nice dress.

You go on the fancy date and had a great time as always, a bit panic on the bill but jason pays for it all. He's a true gentleman for you and only you.

At this point, your bf and gf

I think jason would wait for about a year, you make sure things are secured and there is a lot of trust in the friendship/relationship before dropping hints that he is your not-so-dead best friend. He just wants you to know that he is back :(

One night, trying to sleep, it clicks for you. You immediately go to his apartment and knock on the door. He thanks whoever runs his life for the great full night of not patrolling that night and answers the door. You have tears going down your face and look puffy. He panics and asks if you're alright. You look at him with a confused but surprised lookin your face

U: "Jason Todd? ... Jaybird?"

He also has a look of shock on his face, happy that you finally got it but also scared of your reaction.

J: "... ... yeah. It's me."

U: "Oh my god..."

You stare at each other for about a solid minute and you break down, crying, hands to your face. He panics more and freezes, not knowing if they were good or bad tears. You reached out and hugged him tight. Feeling his out grown and bigger frame in your arms. You finally have your best friend back. And your dating him. You love him. And you know he loves you. All of your dreams have finally come true. Obv not financial ones but wvr.

It ends up with you cuddling jason on his bed or sum. idk.

Kinda long ngl, I have a good grasp of what his character is like but I may have a few things wrong. Pls tell me if something is ooc, I'd probably fix it or sum 🫶🏻😭

[felikatze]

Do you wish you could easily look up information on ISAT, yet the wiki is lacking in it?

Well let me tell you the good news, my friend... YOU can fix that! all you need to do is sign up to wiki.gg (which doesn't even require an email address!) and you can get editing! Add information that the wiki editors have overlooked!! correct spelling mistakes!! write guides for obscure achievements!!

"But I'm afraid to make a mistake!"

Don't worry! If you have questions, simply head to #the-wiki-channel on the official isat discord server, and there'll be plenty of people to help you out!

"But I don't know how wiki editing works!"

in that case, check out isatwiki's very own style guide! It gives you the run down on formatting, page layouts, syntax, and citing! If you still feel unprepared, check out a completed page and copy its formatting! Completed pages are few and far between at the moment, though. Ahaha.

"I don't want to mess up on a public page!"

In that case, our dear pal the style guide is here to help! Check out the last section on Sandbox pages! A very own page, just for you to mess around with! Additionally, you can cut your teeth on making an user page for yourself! Put anything on there (that complies with TOS, of course) and have fun!!! Check out other people's user pages too, if you want!!

"But I don't know what to do!"

Then check out our To Do list! All the wiki's main projects, all compiled in one place! And if something you want to do isn't on the to do list... do it anyway. If there's info you want on there that isn't, the more the merrier, right?

on my hands and knees. please. pretty please. we're a small wiki we have low standards. i will take literally anything over nothing at all. you can make the most barebones unformatted page ever and i personally will pretty it up for you. i merely ask that you cite. like at all. and if you dont cite you can put this cute little {{source}} banner up top so other people will know the info isn't cited.

you should get into wiki editing it's a very fun hobby. you might even pick up basic coding along the way and learn what it's like to cry over css.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Hello!!

I really enjoy and look forward to your works!! I'm always excited when i get a notification of yours jaja.

My friend and I are planning on beginning a fanfiction of our own. I was wondering if you could give any tips on the writing process or maybe things you wish someone had told you when you had started.

I hope you're having a lovely day!!!!

Hello @frizzothehobbit thank you so, so much for the wonderful ask! I've been thinking about this, and I wanted to consider it properly before I answered, because there's so much to talk about regarding this subject. But I can't be thinking about this for all eternity, so here it is, my answer!

First off, I feel like a dinosaur because I started writing fanfiction more than 20 years ago... dear lord, I'm ancient! And if everything feels daunting when starting out, it's because it is! But it doesn't really have to be. Why, you ask? Because if you've decided to write fanfiction, there's already passion behind your intentions, and that is SO important! So, first off, and everybody's favourite:

WRITE WHAT YOU WANT!

Which is basically the same as saying: write for yourself. And as overused as this expression is, it's still true. Obviously we, authors, thrive on comments and feedback: it makes us grow! - And when I say this I'm not just talking about positive feedback, but constructive feedback! - But if you write what you want and love it, you're already halfway to writing a good story. Next:

INVEST SOME TIME IN YOUR STORY!

We, as authors, all wrote (and will write) drabbles at one time or another. Or mindless one-shots that we just needed to get out of our heads and onto the page. It's sooo valid. But my advice if you want to write a longer story: plan it! It helps avoid the 'oh-so-dreaded' plot holes (and this is actual advice I would have loved when I started... it would have saved me a lot of unfinished fics!) And of course, no two people plan the story the same way. I, for one, just think it through in my head (mostly in the shower, before falling asleep or doing mindless tasks such as cleaning), but I know other authors who plan every chapter and every step of the way so, here's another one:

FIND WHAT WORKS FOR YOU!

Be it in storytelling (first person, past tense, present tense, different POVs...), in planning (plan every single detail, just plan the direction of the story or don't plan at all...) or in deciding how much of a canon character are you willing to change. And this brings me to another point:

DON'T BE SCARED TO WRITE OUT OF CHARACTER!

Nobody is going to crucify you for that! It's fanfiction, people, it's not a history paper or a thesis. If you find yourself constantly thinking about this, you'll always doubt your work, so try to avoid dwelling on it, if possible.

CHECK FOR TYPOS

Mistakes are going to happen. You just can't avoid them. Unless you find yourself a Beta (and even then, it happens!). Typos, grammar and spelling mistakes fly by us authors when we're excited about our storytelling, so re-read what you wrote as many times as you want/need! I know I must have my fair share of mistakes (alas, I apologise for English not being my native language in every fiction I write), but I re-read my chapters a lot of times (I'm not even going to say how many - it's unhealthy!) and trust me, it shows if you don't give your story at least a good thorough read! Speaking of reading...

READ! READ! READ! READ A LOT!

Devour books, fanfiction, papers... whatever you can get your hands on. It's another cliché when it comes to writing tips, but it's overused for a reason. Reading a lot helps build a great vocabulary! And it helps you avoid annoying repetitions... Which brings me to another awesome tip:

USE A THESAURUS!

Suuuuuuuch a big help! Especialy when you're not a native speaker! Sometimes I find myself so stuck on a word that a thesaurus truly saves my life! Also:

DON'T BE AFRAID TO EDIT!

The scene isn't turning out the way you wanted it? CUT IT! It doesn't move the story forward? CUT IT! It doesn't fit the character? CUT IT! I've cut entire 1k+ scenes from some of my fanfictions because they made the story take a turn that I didn't like! Which brings me to another important tip:

LET THE CHARACTERS DO THEIR THING!

Sometimes your character just runs away from you and starts doing stupid shit. It's a known fact amongst all authors. Just let them be. Run with it. If the scene doesn't suit the story (say it with me...) CUT IT! But I've found so many times that the best plots in my stories come from characters who just decided they didn't give a flying f**k about me and went rogue! Last but not least (and because this is becoming a thesis in itself):

DON'T BE DISAPPOINTED!

Not all fics get comments. Not all fics get a lot of views. Not everyone who reads and likes, will comment. It's alright. We authors are used to it. And although it's a known fact that many authors have praise kinks (me included), and love to know people read and like their stories, don't expect too much and you won't be disappointed.

I really didn't want to end on that sad note, and maybe some people will disagree with me, but it's astounding how big the difference is between views and likes (or kudos on AO3) and comments. #CommentsMatter!

Also, and here's an extra:

DON'T COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHERS!

We all have favourite authors, and we all wish we could write like someone we idealize (Oh, Edgar Allan Poe, how I adore thee!), but it's not fair to compare yourself to another author. You're not more or less than another writer! YOU'RE YOU! And that's already awesome!

Oof... maybe I could have gone on longer than this... maybe I could've added more tips. But this is what I thought of, and I do hope you, and other people, find them somewhat helpful! Thank you again for the wonderful ask!

Love you! ❤️

PS: Engage with the community! Not only is it heartwarming, comforting, and rewarding, but as a commenter myself, I love having little debates with authors about why they wrote a scene in a specific way, or what they have in mind for what's coming next! Whatever it is, I guarantee you'll have a good time!

[grilde1chesse]

⇢ RESiDENT EViL HEAD CANONS

- jack krauser, leon kennedy, luis serra, ada wong, chris redfield, albert wesker, jill valentine, claire redfield, ethan winters

✧ jack krauser

transman & mlm he doesn’t listen to music often, but when he does it's metal grew up on the countryside with traditional home values (stay at home mom, "man of the house", etc. etc.) as the youngest sibling to 3 brothers. his parent's marriage wasn't one out of love, but rather convenience & societal expectations/pressure. because of this were constantly fighting & physically abusive towards Jack and his siblings. acted and presented masculine from a young age in order to prove he can be a "real" man. ran away from home to join the military at 18. he's spent most of his life away from civilian life, and because of this, he doesn't know how to function in society outside combat. ( "During his days off, Krauser often participated in mercenary work, as he felt that he could not function within society and believed that his service and the thrill of combat were what gave his life meaning." ) extremely insecure about being transgender & uses his power/rank to "make up" for it. resents his homosexuality as he sees it as the remaining "female side" of him he's unable to get rid of. because of this internalized homo/transphobia, he's extremely violent towards anyone he falls for and takes that involuntary attraction as a direct insult to his masculinity. this also ties into his childhood & how he grew up without an example of what healthy affection looks like. his hyper masculinity and borderline (if not outright) misogyny stems from his own dysphoria and insecurities. wears a packer religiously. fighting tooth and nail to not turn this into a ship brainrot ramble BUT this is why i think Krauser's so overly harsh on Leon while also favoriting him to a degree. ("Either way, this is definitely not a 'training room,' this is something Krauser, presumably, put together specifically to train Leon away from the others. There's too much clutter and nothing that would indicate that it's any sort of training area.") ALSO LOOK AT THIS EDIT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

✧ leon s. kennedy

transman & bisexual (realistically it wouldn't be likely/possible that he'd been on testosterone long enough for his voice to change to the degree it has in re2r, as it was the 80s... BUT theres no fun in that :-) plus it explains the voice change from re2r to re4r) honorary dad & country rock lover. (canon confirmed?) listens to Nickelback, Saving Abel, Nine Inch Nails, Hinder, Breaking Benjamin, Failure, Nirvana, Avenged Sevenfold, Seether, some MCR (denies it), Shinedown & similar bands :-)!! autistic, has sensitive skin & eczema. a chronic gum chewer. it’s a comforting, absent minded movement that keeps him grounded on the job. spearmint hurts his mouth so he prefers bubble gum or less cold mint flavors. (i'm not projecting u r.) named after his father and introduces himself as Leon S. Kennedy to separate himself from him. went by Scott/Scottie in his teenage years. total mama's boy. Leon Senior was a heavy alcoholic and is where he got his drinking problems from, something Leon's incredibly insecure about as he's afraid of turning into his dad. grew up resenting his father and blames him for his mom's death. had a bit of chub before becoming an agent & grew into a dad bod/beer belly as he got older :-)!!! was extremely insecure as a teenager & child, having facial and body dysphoria both of which remained untreated & linger in his adult life somewhat. was a very light blonde when he was younger, but his hair gradually got darker as he grew up until he was a light brown/dirty blonde (cue identity crisis "am i blonde or a brunette???"). eventually, he started bleaching it. lost motivation and stopped dying it as he got older. movie buff (canon) ( "He makes a lot of references to films such as the "go medieval on your ass" line from RE4R, which is a quote from Pulp Fiction or comparing the China mission to Black Hawk Down. He also quotes a whole scene from Casablanca from memory in Vendetta (the "I never make plans that far ahead" part), so he seems to watch quite a variety of films." ) in the nicest most affectionate way possible... he is so annoying about movies actually, will not shut up with his trivia the whole time it plays. hates horror movies but will never admit it. played hockey as a kid. grew up somewhere cold & is adapted to cold temperatures (he can't stand the heat though). had a dog as a kid and used to absolutely love them (specifically bloodhounds) but he developed a phobia of them after Raccoon City (can you blame him?). no matter how badly he wants a normal domestic life (to settle down, start a family, and give his kids the childhood he never had) he’s secretly terrified of the idea. he doesn’t know how to function outside of work, even when on vacation he can’t seem to relax. (he'd probably name his kids some stupid shit like "Hunter" though, so maybe that's for the best...)

✧ luis serra

cisgender & bisexual or mlm the closest we have to a canon music taste 4 him is Barbie Girl by Aqua (hehe), BUT i'd imagine he'd be a fan of musicians like Queen, Elton John, Michael Jackson, Madonna, ABBA, Billy Joel, Dolly Parton and other artists known to be popular in queer communities!! Grew up Catholic & still holds onto some core ideologies, though in a more superstitious way than religious. while he doesn't consider himself Catholic, he still carries around a cross necklace from his childhood & prays occasionally. Valdelobos was (in canon) devoutly Catholic prior to Saddler's reign, so it makes sense for him to hold on to some of that guilt. (him signing the cross in game.) his jacket is custom-tailored. going on a biiiit of a ramble/history lesson here... but if you look up Western saddles you'll find some with floral patterns similar to Luis' jacket. it's a kind of leather carving that was APPARENTLY inspired by medieval Spanish saddles. not really relevant but a fun fact nonetheless! :-) he picked up smoking from his grandfather. extremely picky when it comes to what cigarettes he smokes. he prefers Marlboro Reds (i don't smoke (except for when i'm missing you) so idrk what i'm talking about) very sentimental & holds on to little trinkets & gifts & pictures, etc. (this is somewhat canon confirmed, seen with him holding onto the Umbrella Dream Team photo, along with the lighter.)

✧ ada wong

transwoman & arospec lesbian likes 80s pop music & typical girly ego boost stuff. stuff like Kate Bush, Lady Gaga & ABBA (she loves Babooshka by Kate Bush & Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking). not sure if she'd actually listen to any of her stuff, but K. Flay's music reminds me of her, specifically The President Has A Sex Tape. mommy issues queen. was in and out of foster care her entire childhood, only to end up back with her mom every time. she's extremely self-sufficient and refuses to rely or depend on anyone due to her childhood history of neglect. essentially raised herself. picked up smoking from her mother and absolutely hates it. she only falls back on nicotine when doing horribly. she carries cigarettes around with her on missions, just in case. has cherry blossom lip gloss and re-applies it religiously. has drop foot (i genuinely can’t think of any other sensible reason she’d always been wearing heels </3). used to like true crime when she was younger. she has issues identifying her feelings and honestly doesn’t care enough to work through them. she isn’t sure if she even likes some people at all. she can’t tell apart affection and finding someone useful. either way, she wants certain people around/safe and she isn’t sure why (Leon for example).

✧ chris redfield

cisgender & mlm canonically listens to Queen and is generally just a big music fan!! (him and Claire's "Made in Heaven" jackets + the Gibson Les Paul at his desk in the S.T.A.R.S. office :-)) listens to Queen, The Smashing Pumpkins, Fleetwood Mac, the Foo Fighters, (some) Nirvana, AC/DC, KISS, Van Halen, Iron Maden, Black Sabeth, The Fray, Failure, Kings of Leon & similar bands ^_^!! likely disabled after that TBI in Edonia (i'd imagine there'd be some long-term consequences from hitting ur head so hard u get amnesia for 6 months). total adrenaline junkie with a savior complex. has an extremely high pain tolerance. he cannot fucking hear oh my god... please get him a hearing aid its so bad. was the stereotypical overprotective brother when he and Claire were younger, always scaring the shit out of anyone she brought home. used to take her to junk yards for shooting practice (she shot herself in the leg once... oopsies!). probably smells like a dog & uses 4 in 1 shampoo. stinky vermin. can’t cook for the life of him; lives off microwaveable meals. surprisingly organized, considering how messy he used to be in his younger years. plays the guitar (canon) & has a Gibson. Shy about his singing voice, so it's rare to hear, but i'd imagine it sounds similar to Isaac Slade's (lead singer of The Fray), just a bit deeper/gruffier. extremely good with dogs - actually considered being a dog trainer when he was younger. has a German Shepherd & a Bernese Mountain Dog, both are extremely well trained. canonically hates the rich, and is anti-capitalist lol. it's likely he was discharged from the Air Force for talking back to his superiors. would be an amazing dad but is terrified of the idea of settling down. no matter how badly he wants to have a domestic life he doesn’t know how to adapt to it. has a matching tattoo with Claire!! ^_^

✧ albert wesker

aro/ase spec & pan has autism, ASPD, NPD & a god complex (he has no idea what most of those labels mean & sees any attempts at people diagnosing him as useless and a waste of time). sensory issues & sensitive eyes because of Uroboros (leads to overstimulation sometimes, which makes him even more of a grumpy bitch). has an insane skincare routine. listens to classical music & 80s crap. while he originally got with ms. Muller with the goal of having a child, Wesker was unaware of Jake's birth. he deemed her as suitable as she had desirable traits that he wanted to carry on but never knew she actually got pregnant. suppresses/ignores any sexual thoughts/urges he has, as he views sexual impulses as a weakness and looks down on it. he sees himself as better than the average person because of his ability to control this. walked on his toes as a kid. most lights are too bright for him (hence the sunglasses wearing indoors). gets extremely frustrated if his plants or routine get interrupted or even slightly changed. sits in a dark room to de stimulate when needed, sometimes he reads, other times he just zones out. weird about how he treats Neurotypical ppl lol (treats them as they would Neurodivergents; like his experiences are the social norm & any other way of living is alien and outlandish). doesn’t smoke often but when he does he prefers Camels or Marlboro Blues (again, i don’t smoke so idrk). speaks some German & Latin (Latin from virus names and yada yada sciencey stuff)

✧ jill valentine

cisgender & lesbian listens to riot grrrl music (bikini kill), Come, Deftones, System of a Down, Paramore, Drowning Pool, Slipknot, Depeche Mode, TOOL, Soundgarden, Papa Roach, Breaking Benjamin & similar bands while the S.D. Perry novels aren't canon i rlly like how they depicted her childhood (along with it being the only "official" backstory for her we have). the idea of her dad being a crime boss explains her knowledge of lock picking & ability to keep a level head. she definitely had a few run-ins with the law as a kid. she has a little sister. has a Russian Blue cat & her favorite fruit are pears. can speak some french, though not too well due to lack of use. she has fairly thick hair and an undercut that she refuses to have shaved professionally. she likes cutting her hair herself, and refuses to pay to have it done. normally she has a friend or whoever's available cut it for her in exchange for a couple bucks. still has blonde hair from re5, but dyes it (Wesker absolutely killed the melanin in her skin and hair). she has blonde streaks & roots due to lack of free time to re-dye. has heightened abilities from lingering effects of the P30 drug (strength, perception time, speed, etc.). has a permanent scar on her chest from the P30 device.

✧ claire redfield

cisgender & bisexual/lesbian listens to Queen (canon), Stevie Nicks, Heart, Led Zeppelin, the Runaways, KISS, Fleetwood Mac, AC/DC, Nirvana, Bon Jovi, No Doubt, Petal, The Killers, Jack Off Jill, The Smiths, Smashing Pumpkins & similar bands. Chris used to take her out to junkyards to practice shooting together (accidentally shot herself in the leg once after shooting at metal... oopsies :-)!!) dyes her hair auburn & hates wearing it down. has a crazy high pain tolerance (runs in the family) and used to get hurt a lot on accident as a kid (doing stupid shit like messing around with fire or blades). Autumn is her favorite season. messy, brash & assertive, & i’m sick of pretending she isn't </3. she was raised by Chris, no way is her room organized. has probably punched at least one person for saying some stupid bigoted shit. would be a great mom tbh. loves cherry-flavored stuff. has a matching tattoo with Chris!! ^_^

✧ ethan winters

transgender & bisexual autistic. has small nervous tics that come and go seemingly at random. not big on music. he just likes it as background noise. prefers instrumental music, like classical and jazz (somewhat canon), maybe a bit of dad rock. i think he'd like Earth Angel (Will You Be Mine) by The Penguins & Why Do You Let Me Stay Here? by She & Him! used to collect trading cards as a kid. he didn't exactly know how to play, he just liked how they look and feel. "standard" childhood, married middle-class parents with stable jobs yada yada yada. grew up in Texas (where he eventually met Mia) and spent a good portion of his life completely oblivious to the concept of being trans. once finding out he was trans he and Mia moved to California and he started T. talks to himself. could probably grow his limbs back starfish-style if he gave them enough time/didn't cover his fingers up with bandages (like Lucas did when Jack cut his arm off). has a favorite dinosaur. hates horror movies. so many movie & pop culture references... the dad jokes never end. 100% a reddit user. absolute sucker for compliments.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Ten

Summary: You decide to take a break from Jimin and Jungkook but things don't go according to plan when they both show up during your late night shift Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 4.3k~ Warnings: Explicit language and a heated discussion a/n: Barely edited per usual 😅 Start from the beginning

"Hey Luna someone's here to see you" I hear Grey yell from the front of the store leaving me picking up the cleaning supplies I had been using moments ago and bring it up front. 

"Oh Jimin, hi! I forgot that you were coming tonight" I say putting everything away. "Yeah I just wanted to make sure to get this to you as soon as possible" he says with a shy smile handing me the pepper spray. I give him a shallow bow in thanks and place it in my back pocket for the time being. 

"So, how was your day Noona?" he asks, hoping he can stay around a little longer. "It was okay, Grey came over and hung out for a little bit and then I took her to Bora for a snack before work" I say glancing over towards Grey for a second. 

"Oh...you took her to Bora? That's cool" he says and I can see that he's a little upset at the mention of it. "Is everything okay?" I ask before continuing the conversation. "Yeah I was just thinking that maybe Bora could be our thing" he says shyly. 

He's really not that confident and cool guy he made himself out to be from our first interaction which is honestly quite adorable but I decide not to mention it.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that! I just liked the place so much that I wanted to show her" I say apologetically. "It's okay don't worry about it, it was silly of me to think that" he says rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "No it wasn't, we can always go again soon if you'd like?" I say and I see his eyes light up at the offer. 

"Are you asking me out on a date Noona?" he asks, jumping to conclusions and getting some of that playful energy back. "No it's not a date" I chuckle at him and roll my eyes. "We're still getting to know each other better remember" I say playfully pushing him. 

"Yeah I know I just wanted to tease you" he says with mischievous smirk, "But when did you wanna go? I'm free tomorrow if you are!" he asks looking hopeful. 

I see Grey waving at me and telling me to tell him no for some reason so I decide to trust her and go along with it. "I actually have some stuff I need to do tomorrow but I'll text you okay?" I say hoping he'll understand. 

"Oh okay yeah that works too. Well I better get going then, I have an early morning class so I should probably get some sleep" he says before giving me a quick hug. I guess that's going to be a regular thing between us now and as much as I hate to admit it it gives me butterflies every time.

We say our goodbyes and he waves at Grey on his way out to which she responds with a nod of her head. Once he's gone and down the street and out of earshot I make my way over to the register where Grey is. 

"So why did you want me to tell him no again?" I ask sitting on the stool next to her. "Don't you need time to figure things out with Jungkook before you start going on dates with Jimin?" she says turning towards me. 

I take in her words and she has a point there, I know how Jungkook is and although it's only been a day that doesn't mean that I can push him to the side just because I don't know what I want. "Yeah you're probably right. I'll let Jimin know that I need some space too I guess" I say knowing that I really do need to start taking things more seriously.

~~~~~~

A week passes by and I find myself back at work daydreaming. 

I've been trying to think of all of the different ways that things could go between Jungkook and I, but I'm just too scared to act. My brain has been full of 'What ifs' and I'm too afraid of what the consequences of those 'What ifs' might look like. 

I hear the chime signaling a new customer coming in and I see Jungkook walking through the door. He stops in his tracks for a second, both of us just staring at each other before he takes a deep breath and walks over to me. 

"I thought Grey was supposed to be working today" he mumbles and breaks eye contact with me. "She was, but something happened with Smokey so she asked if I could cover. He's fine though, just got into something and messed up her apartment" I let him know in case he might've been concerned. 

"Oh, okay that's good" he responds and we stand there in silence for a bit. "How have you been?" I ask taking notice of the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled look. "Could be better" he says continuing to mumble before clearing his throat and asking me the same question. 

"I'm okay, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and-" I start but get interrupted by the sound of yet another customer walking in but my eyes widen in horror seeing that it's Jimin.

"Hi Noona!" he greets coming in with a big smile. He copies what Jungkook had done just moments before, stoping in his tracks now taking in the sight of Jungkook and I at the register. 

"Jungkook..." I start trailing off. "Is this the reason why you needed more time to think? Because you're dating someone else?" he says through gritted teeth starting to raise his voice. "Jungkook please we need to talk but we can't do this now" I whisper trying to hopefully encourage him to keep his voice down. 

"No I think now would be a perfect time Luna" he says in a stern tone that I've never heard from him and storms outside, hovering by the entrance clearly waiting for me to follow. 

"Sunghoon?" I call out hoping the kid isn't too far. "Yeah Noona?" he says peaking his head out from around the corner. "Can you watch the store for me? I'm gonna take my break a little early" I say keeping my eyes on Jungkook. "Sure, is everything okay?" he asks noticing my stiffened posture. 

"Yeah everything is fine I just need to talk to Jungkook for a sec" I reassure him, taking my store vest off and placing it behind the counter. He does as he's told and walks behind the counter as I drag myself outside, dreading the impending doom that is this conversation.

Jungkook stands off to the side now, a cigarette held between his lips as he takes a drag and blows it out when he sees me leave the store. 

"When did you start smoking?" I ask, surprised at his new habit. "Really?" he say harshly "That's what you decide to focus on? Luna cut the crap and tell me what's really going on. Are you dating him?" he says, face flushed from the emotions I can see that he's trying to hold back. "I'm not dating him" I answer plainly, not really knowing how to describe my relationship with him. 

"So what, are you guys sleeping together?" he spits out bitterly. "What the fuck? Jungkook no! Why would you even think that?" I say surprised at his attitude. "I saw the way he was looking at you, like he had been caught doing something wrong when he saw me back there. Is he the reason why you wanted space? So you could mess around with him and see if you liked him before you decided to come back and settle for me?" he says starting to get angry. 

"Jungkook what's gotten into you?" I ask concerned for him. "What's gotten into me? No, what's gotten into you? What happened to being honest with each other? What happened to trusting each other? Fuck Luna what happened to loving each other? You told me you love me and then you pull shit like this? Stringing me along and stressing me out thinking that I lost the most important person in my life because I let my feelings get mixed up. Making me think that it was my fault when all along all you were doing was playing with me because you just liked the attention" he says spewing out things that I never thought he could ever say, let alone think about anyone. 

I catch a whiff of alcohol mixed with the cigarette smoke making me understand why he's acting like this. "Jungkook you're drunk" I say sternly trying to stay strong and keep my emotions in check. I don't want to break in front of him, not like this. 

"Yeah so what? Trying to find an excuse to push me off just because you know what I'm saying is true. How could you be so selfish? Treating me like I'm just some little play thing that you can come back to when you've had your fun. Well guess what Luna I'm done! I'm not waiting around for you hoping that you'll some how love me the way that I love you" he scoffs bitterly pausing for a second " I guess I should say loved because I don't think I could ever love someone like you seeing your true colors now".

I hear the door open behind me and Jimin comes out to jump in and defuse the situation "I think that's enough" he says calmly coming to my side. "Last time I checked I wasn't talking to you" Jungkook says coming closer to him. "Jungkook no, stop" I say quickly blocking him from doing something stupid, "Please let's talk this through later when you're sober okay? I'll text you and we can meet up tomorrow" I say trying to bring his attention back over to me. 

"I don't want to talk anymore. I saw what I needed to see. I'm done!" He says shrugging me off. "Be careful with her. She'll kick you to the curb too once she's bored" he warns Jimin before walking off with a slight sway in his step.

"You okay?" Jimin says turning his full attention to me once Jungkook has turned a corner. "Yeah I think so. I've gotta get back to work though so I'll see you later okay?" I say giving him a pained smile before walking back into the store. 

"Did you want me to come pick you up?" he offers, walking in behind me. "No that's okay I should be fine. I haven't really seen or heard any sign of them in a while so I think they might've gotten bored" I say in reference to the stalker that I had been dealing with earlier this week. 

"Are you sure? I don't have class tomorrow so I really don't mind" he tries one more time. "It's okay, I think it'll help me process things easier if I go alone" I say offering up an explanation for my refusal. He nods his head and sighs in defeat and departs soon after that. 

"Are you okay?" Sunghoon asks me, clearly seeing how upset this all has made me. He's worked here since he was 16 and is in his second year of University now so we've known each other for a while and he's become somewhat of a little brother to me. 

"Not really" I say trying to blink back the tears that I can feel forming. "You can go to the back and take a minute if you need to, I didn't hear much but I know he said some hurtful things to you" he says placing a hand on my shoulder as somewhat of a way to provide comfort. I nod my head and walk back into the break room to take a breather.

'Is what he said true? Was I just toying with him because someone else came along? What the fuck am I doing? What do I really want?' I question myself while trying to take deep breaths to calm down. I let a few tears fall before quickly swiping them away knowing that I really do need to collect myself and stay professional. After a minute or two I'm able to put on that customer service persona that I need to sport for the rest of the night and make my way back out. 

"Thanks for that" I say placing my store vest back on. "It's fine don't mention it" he trades places with me but hovers by the counter clearly wanting to say something. 

"You want to know what happened huh?" I question with a half smile. "Only if you're comfortable with telling me" I let out a deep breath and decide to tell him bits and pieces of the story throughout our very uneventful night.

"So let me get this straight, you're basically in a love triangle with Jungkook and that other Jimin guy?" I nod my head and wait to answer more of his questions. "But because you've been friends with Jungkook for so long you're afraid that if you date that you might have a messy breakup and you'll lose your best friend?" I nod my head again and I watch as he formulates a few more questions in his head. 

"But based off of Jungkook's reaction tonight it seems like you might already be losing him right?" I nod my head but this time decide to elaborate on the subject. 

"He seemed like he was really drunk though so I know he definitely meant some of the things he said but he kind of just jumped to conclusions based off of one look and ran with it. I need to talk to him when he's preferably sober so I can reason with him a bit more" I finish. 

"What does Grey think about all of this?" he questions, curious to see another perspective. "She's been pushing me to make up my mind since day one so I know she's irritated with me. I have no doubt that Jungkook has been bothering her about me this past week so she's probably about to confront me about it too" I say trying to mentally preparing myself for that conversation.

"Have you made up your mind yet? Do you know who you want to be with?" he asks leaning in a bit more, now clearly invested in the whole story. "I thought I did, until Jungkook's outburst tonight. I want to be with him, but not if he's gonna be acting like this. I can't do this whole jealous overbearing boyfriend type of relationship. Like yes some jealousy is hot occasionally but I don't want to have my partner think I'm cheating on them or something based off a single glance" I run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath before continuing. 

"This isn't even the first time he's acted like this towards me. He blew up on me the day after he told me he loved me because his hyungs were flirting with me and he couldn't take it" I say getting irritated just thinking about that day again. 

"So that's why he hasn't been around lately. I was kind of wondering since he used to spend a lot of time around here, like almost everyday" he says now connecting the dots. 

"Yeah and Jimin has been the polar opposite of Jungkook, caring, understanding, supportive, so it's been making this decision even more difficult. I know I've only known him for a while but we seem really compatible. We like the same movies, listen to the same music and we like the same food" I say listing off our similarities.

"But do you like him?" he says cutting off my list. "Of course I like him" I say surprised at his question thinking it had been made obvious. "No but do you think you could fall in love with him?" I take a second to ponder his question and I feel stuck, not really knowing the answer yet. "I mean I think so... I don't know? Don't you think it's a little too soon to be thinking like that?" I question. 

"You don't have to be in love with him already but don't you think that's the point of a relationship? To eventually fall in love?" I take a second to contemplate his word and I feel like I'm getting even more confused. "Yeah I guess you're right" I say "But I still don't know what to do" I finish running my fingers through my hair for the nth time today. 

"Maybe you should just focus on what you're going to say to Jungkook. I'm sure you guys will work things out, and even if you don't then there's your answer" he says trying to simplify the situation for me. "Yeah you're right..." I trail off and he is quickly pulled away by a customer who seems to be in a hurry.

I spend the rest of my shift going through the motions until I'm finally able to go home. Walking back I take that time to breathe and force myself to take a look at my life and what I want out of it. 

Jungkook has been an amazing friend and I think he would be an incredible boyfriend, or at least I thought he might. Now I'm not so sure, which scares me. Was he just pretending this whole time to be someone that he's not and now I'm just now seeing his true colors? There has to be something else that's going on with him but I have no idea what it could be. 

I take out my phone to send him a text to at least ask if he got home safe but it bounces back showing me that he's already blocked me. I'm not surprised at this point but I'm still a little hurt at the fact that he just wants to cut me off for this. 

I agree what I did was fucked up and I should've talked it out with him instead of pushing him away so I guess I deserved it. I strengthen my resolve and decide to go to his house in the morning to talk things out. No doubt he'll have a hangover so he won't be going anywhere that early.

Opening the door to my apartment and being greeted by silence used to give me peace of mind but after that envelope showed up on my doorstep I've hated being faced with it every time I return. 

My mind is racing with all that I'm planning to say to Jungkook so I decide to turn on the TV to drown out all the thoughts that are running circles around my head. 

I set an alarm on my phone for eight so I can go to the store before Jungkook wakes up to get stuff that'll help with his hangover and right as I reach for the remote to press play on the Netflix show I've been planning to catch up on I'm interrupted by a sound outside my door. My heart goes into overdrive and I wait a few seconds before getting up to go check. 

Making my way over to the door I'm greeted with, yet again, another red envelope, this time having been slipped under my door. They know that I'm home, they wanted me to know that they're still watching me. 

I decide against opening the door this time and look through the peep hole instead to see if they're still in the hallway. The hallway looks empty but I know better than to open the door so with shaking hands I pick up the envelope and take it over to the couch.

I open it up and see that this time it's pictures of Jungkook, Jimin and I from tonight inside the store, me arguing outside with Jungkook as well as Jimin and I talking outside afterwards. 

I try to visualize what our surroundings had looked when we were outside to see if I could remember if there had been anyone outside that could've been the one taking pictures of us but no matter how hard I try with just the shock of seeing Jungkook my whole attention had been solely on him. 

Jungkook's face is still crossed out in all the pictures but this time written on the back of one of them are the words 'GOOD RIDDANCE!'. Whereas on the back of one of the pictures of Jimin and I are the words 'Who the fuck is this?!?!?' with his face circled a bunch of times. 

Seems like no matter what guy I'm with this person doesn't like them. Makes me think that the sick fuck is not only obsessed but also in love with me. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this? Why is all of this suddenly happening all at once? No matter what I do I can't seem to catch a fucking break.

I pick up my phone and call Grey, not wanting to bother Jimin this time and she luckily picks up on the fourth ring. "This better be good?" she lets out groggily, clearly upset that I had woken her up. "Stalker guy is back" I say simply and hear her bed creaking signaling some kind of movement on her end. 

"What the fuck? What happened this time? Are you okay?" she says hoping to get some more information about what we're dealing with. 

"Yeah I'm fine, surprisingly it didn't bother me as much as it did last time. I'm more pissed than anything. Like what about my life is so interesting? I'm just an average person working an average job and doing average things. Why would my life be remotely interesting?" I say exhausted with the added annoyance of this guy showing up again. 

"In case you haven't noticed Luna you're kinda hot. Hell if you weren't my best friend I might even go for you" she teases. "Grey this isn't helping" I whine. "Okay okay I'll stop. What did the stalker guy do this time? Was it another envelope?" she questions. "Yeah but it was only pictures from tonight" I say preparing myself for having to tell her everything that happened.

"Did something happen tonight?" she questions and I can tell she knows there's something else going on. "Jungkook came by the store looking for you" I say and I hear her mumble a curse under her breath. "Luna I'm sorry, he's been coming around every once in a while to check up on you and see how you're doing. I didn't tell you because he's still my friend too you know so-" 

"Grey it's fine, it doesn't bother me" I say cutting her off. "Okay good, I feel like I'm always put into an awkward position between the two of you so I never really know what to do. Plus he usually calls or texts me before coming" she explains further. 

"Yeah well he was drunk so I'm not surprised he didn't let you know" I say rolling my eyes at the thought. "He was drunk? Did he say something?" she says and I can tell she's already wincing. "Boy definitely gave me a piece of his mind that's for sure" I say rubbing my temples. "You okay?" she asks hoping he didn't do too much damage.

"Yeah, he came in and then Jimin came in a few minutes later and he jumped to conclusions and assumed that we were dating and/or sleeping together. He basically called me an attention whore and that I was playing with his emotions so I know he's just hurt and trying to hurt me too in his drunken state. I know that wasn't him, or I hope it wasn't. I've seen so many drastic changes in his character lately that it's starting to scare me. It seems like he's changing into a different person and I'm not sure if that's the kind of person I want to be around, let alone date" I let out honestly. 

"So what are you gonna do?" she asks, hoping to help me at least start to voice it all. "I guess I'm just gonna tell him how I feel, one of the last things he said to me though was that he was done and he didn't want to talk anymore so I'm not even sure if he'll talk to me even if I tried. I'm planning on going over to his place in the morning and bringing him stuff for his hangover so I guess we'll just have to wait and see if he let's me in or not".

"And if he doesn't let you in?" she questions. "Then I guess I'll have my answer" I say and lay down, grabbing one of the throw blankets I have and crawling under it. "I should probably let you go though since I woke you up. Thanks for answering" I say, thankful that I have someone like her to count on. 

"Yeah no worries, let me know how things go tomorrow okay? Let's meet up afterwards and go to Bora, I know that'll probably cheer you up, plus I owe you one" she says nonchalantly. 

"You just want to go to Bora again to see that guy huh?" I tease. "No! I- I just really like their macarons okay! It has nothing to do with him" she denies nervously. "Whatever you say" I say after laughing a bit at hearing how flustered she sounds. 

"Goodnight Luna" she says with a monotone, "Goodnight Grey" I say and end the call, lock my phone and will myself to sleep, tossing and turning soon leading to a well earned night's rest.

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[obeymematches]

hey i saw your hc requests were open,is it okay if i ask for the love languages of the brothers?it could also be the the way they show their love if you dont like the first one lol.love your stuff🦓

hiii whatsup it's been a while!

tumblr changed so much since the last time i wrote HCs it is making me upset as I'm trying to edit this post pls bare with it

How can you be sure they love you?

Lucifer:

● He is the most straightforward with his words when it comes to expressing his feelings for you. There are no ambigous expressions, no metaphors, no nothing, just simple "I love you"s, which he isn't afraid to tell you every morning and every night from now on.

● You also receive gifts sent / given by him, though he isn't so good at thinking of new ones so it's usually a boquet of roses, fancy chocolate or some kind of jewellery.

● He hardly ever lets you go anywhere alone from now on! Someone has to be with you at all times. No arguing about it!

● Please don't expect lots of quality time together. Even if your presence is the only peace he gets throughout his entire day. He spends as much time as he can with you but it is out of his control. Sometimes you do get a couple of hours with him, sometimes it's 20 minutes a day. Don't take it personally, of course you are on his mind every day, of course he would spend more time with you if he could. (He's not going to like it if you tell him "if he wanted to, he would")

● Please touch him, he is starving for intimacy. Just make sure you keep it lowkey in front of his brothers & Diavolo. Everyone else is okay to see PDA.

●Appreciates your acts of service and he generously rewards you for it but don't expect him to do the same for you, unless you really struggle with a task.

Mammon:

● You're not going to get no privacy from him. Top #clingiest demon in the world.

● He is very unaware of this, but he keeps touching you, sometimes subtly sometimes not so subtly. (He sits so close to you that your shoulders and legs touch, wraps his arm around your waist whenever he gets the chance, etc.)

● He also gets you rather expensive presents from time to time, where he gets the money for it is a mystery though. (He been working a lot to treat you right okay!!)

● However, he sucks at expressing his feelings with words. 0/10 do not recommend. Good luck and don't give up, evetually he might tell you he is most ardently in love with you.

●Doesn't really do acts if service either. Maybe sometimes.

Leviathan:

● All of a sudden he is much less talkative around you. First you think he just doesn't like you for some reason. You thought it was going fine but... well.

● The situation escalates when he writes you a love letter, telling you everything you wanted/needed to hear. With spoken words he is not so good, fumbles a lot, forgets where he was at, but his letter is on point.

●The best way he lets you know about his feelings is through quality time. He makes sure the emphasis is on quality and not quantity! He can become really funny when he tries to!

● Acts of service happens in game mostly.

Satan:

●Very much into quality time with you! Indoors or outdoors doesn't matter as long as you spend time together.

● Gets nervous from PDA, don't do it often... when no one else sees you he is absolutely mesmerized by your touch though.

● He is one of the best with words; expect poems, books dedicated to you! Also tell him how good if a man he is, loves to hear it!

● Not very much into acts of service, very independent kind of guy and expects the same from his other half.

● He is also not much into gifts. Doesn't believe in money doing the loving instead of the person.

Asmodeus:

● The king of touch and reassuring words! Down for this two anytime and anywhere!

● He appreciates anything you do for/with him but expect PDA and sweet nothings the most.

● Of course if neither of the 2 works for you he can do anything to make sure you feel loved.

● The only one who can make you feel loved to the bone no matter what your love languages are. He doesn't have a weakness regarding these kind of things.

Beelzebub:

● I think he is an acts of service kind of guy. Does the dishes for you, gets you dinner, stuff like this.

● Also likes to be touched but strictly in private! Gets so nervous if anyone sees.

● He tells you he loves you often and isn't afraid to tell you why! Though "I love you" as a full on sentence is a bit rare from him... he puts more effort into it... like "You are the kindest person I know and I love you so much for it."

● He also gets to spend lots of QT with you. Watching a movie, going for a run, he is down for whatever.

● Not much of a gifter himself but truly appreciates if you give him gifts. Might cry a little.

Belphegor:

● You get to spend QT with him most of the time. Also becomes very possesive of you so you get little to no privacy at all.

● He tells you he loves you often but sometimes it sounds a bit.. off? Like he doesn't really mean it?

● Not much of a gifter either... rarely when he knows you'd like something specific he'd get it for you but as I said it's rare of him to do so.

● Big on touching you, however. Like Mammon, he'd be very close to you the entire day. If you move away he is moving with you.

● He barely does acts of service eventhough he lowkey expects you to do some for him.

[the-chromawheel]

Good morning Sweden, welcome back to another episode of

-//- Groomberg News -//-

In today's session we'll be covering more about our favorite esteemed gamedev groomer! If you're afraid of monsters, be wary! Todays story might make you cry of fear

So Andreas' TikTok account got deleted

(This is a dead link)

This was likely because of his allegations getting very wide coverage as a result of LeonTalksAlot and Sileskios making videos about him

One of which he ironically tried to take down

This is fascinating since his TikTok is definitely the account he relies on censorship the most - As it allows creators to delete comments on their posts entirely, including ones calling them out for grooming He has done this a lot

It appears he got tired of spending 26 hours a day censoring people, searching his name up all across social media and deleting comments to defend himself - So he just deleted his TikTok entirely. Less work to do I guess?

EDIT: (This was already outdated by the time I decided to post it but he revealed on instagram that the reason was because of a false report! my headcanon is that TikTok's algorithm does not like groomers. But it was probably just that people learnt what he did and reported his old videos)

Anyway in the time since my last post, he became moderator of his subreddit (r/cryoffear) and has banned multiple users for mentioning the allegations (me included lmao)

(Previously he would just command his mods on what to do, now he's there directly to ban people himself! Efficient!)

Just hoping he doesn't make some response like "I am sorry to say but I have deleted my TikTok account... The witch hunting has gone too far, the hate is too much for my mental health" He will likely say something like that IF HE DOES talk about it since he loves to play victim

(Now that he HAS made a response, he did take quite an emotional route with his explanation. Poor guy lost the TikTok account he used to manipulate his audience, very sad sad news)

This is painfully ironic as his victims received far worse hate from obsessed Cry of Fear fans for quite literally getting groomed by him. One of his victims abandoned all their accounts and has no publicly known social media presence anymore I guess he almost knows how it feels now

Be sure to tune back to Groomberg News in probably multiple months when I remember this account exists again. I'm afraiding my monster so hard right now