#[the•force•of•nature] || noah

[callsigns-haze]

Lean On

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler Owens, an avid storm chaser, takes his friends Javi and Kate to meet his estranged wife YN and their son Noah, rekindling old tensions. During a fierce tornado, they seek refuge in a cinema, where Tyler and YN rediscover their love amidst the chaos. YN begs Tyler to never leave again, and he promises to stay, solidifying their connection he broke all those years back.

Warnings: Natural Disasters, Family Conflict, Romantic Intimacy, Strong Language

A/n: I only watched twisters and I just had too

Word count: 8,525 (holy fucking shit)

Tyler Owens had always been a free spirit, driven by an obsession that had gripped him since childhood: tornadoes. The power, the unpredictability, the sheer force of nature—it all fascinated him. He’d dedicated his life to chasing them, studying them, understanding their every whim and fury. Over the years, he’d assembled a crew, a family of sorts, who shared his passion and drive. Among them were Javi and Kate, friends and fellow storm chasers who had been by his side for two years.

It was a rare sunny day, with the sky an unbroken canvas of blue, that Tyler decided his team deserved a break. The adrenaline, the sleepless nights, the constant state of readiness—they needed a holiday from the storms, if only for a little while. The rest of the crew scattered to their own respites, but Javi and Kate chose to stay with Tyler, curious about his plans.

The three of them piled into Tyler’s truck, a rugged beast of a vehicle that had weathered countless storms. As the tires crunched over gravel and onto the open road, Kate glanced over at Tyler, who was focused on the horizon, his eyes alight with a spark that was hard to ignore.

"Where are we going, Tyler?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Tyler's lips curled into a mysterious smile. "I want you to meet my family."

Javi, sitting in the back seat, leaned forward. "Like your mom and brother or something?" he asked.

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. "Something better."

They drove for hours, the landscape changing from the bustling outskirts of the city to the serene vastness of the countryside. The sky, which had been clear and calm, began to change, dark clouds rolling in from the distance. It was a sight all too familiar to the trio, but this time, there was no urgency, no race against time. They were simply observers.

Eventually, Tyler turned off the main road, guiding the truck down a narrow path that led to a quaint, rustic bar. The sign above the entrance read "The Tipsy," and it depicted a tornado with two people dancing inside it.

Javi raised an eyebrow as he read the sign. "What are we doing here?"

Tyler smiled enigmatically. "You'll have to wait and find out."

He led them inside, the wooden door creaking as they entered. The interior was warm and inviting, with low lighting casting a cozy glow over the patrons scattered around the bar. A jukebox played soft country tunes in the corner, and the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and beer.

Tyler guided them to a booth near the back, the plush seats a welcome comfort after their long drive. As they settled in, Tyler glanced around the room, his expression one of contentment and nostalgia.

Kate looked at him expectantly. "So, what’s the big surprise?"

Tyler leaned back, a playful glint in his eye. "Just wait. It’ll be worth it."

Tyler’s eyes perked up from the booth, drawing the attention of Javi and Kate. They followed his gaze and noticed a beautiful woman behind the bar. She was effortlessly juggling bottles with perfection, her cowboy hat slightly tilted, her white tank top and jeans hugging her figure, and a pair of worn cowboy boots completing her look. Despite the bar being loud and overcrowded, it was clear who had captured Tyler's attention.

With a blink of an eye, she noticed him too. Her hands paused mid-juggle, and she delicately slammed a rag onto the bar before setting the bottles down. She made her way over to their booth, her expression a mix of surprise and something unreadable.

Tyler quickly smirked at her, the familiar gesture laden with unspoken words.

"You're finally here to see your son," she said, her voice carrying over the din of the bar, stunning both Kate and Javi into silence.

Tyler leaned back, his smirk unfaltering. "Javi, Kate, this is—"

"Your wife?" Kate interrupted, her voice a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

The woman cut him off coldly. "I left you."

Tyler's smirk hardened slightly. "You threw a shoe and your rings at me. You never signed any papers."

A tense silence hung in the air, the lively noise of the bar feeling oddly distant as Kate and Javi exchanged bewildered looks. The woman’s eyes flashed with something fiery and unresolved, and Tyler’s demeanour remained unyielding, the confrontation a clear indication of a long-standing, complex history.

"This is YN," Tyler finally said, his voice softer but firm. "She’s my wife."

"Ex-wife," YN corrected, though her voice lacked the finality the words should have carried.

The revelation settled over Javi and Kate like a storm cloud, both of them struggling to process this unexpected twist. The woman standing before them was more than just a bartender; she was a pivotal piece of Tyler’s life that he had kept hidden until now.

"Well," Javi said, breaking the silence with a forced chuckle, "this just got interesting."

Kate nodded, her gaze flicking between Tyler and YN, trying to piece together the story that lay between them.

Tyler held YN’s gaze, his eyes conveying a mix of regret and determination. "I’m here now. We’ve got things to talk about."

YN crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "I’m going to get Noah," she said, turning sharply on her heel and heading toward the back of the bar.

Tyler watched her go, his face softening as he turned back to Kate and Javi. "I wanted you guys to meet my family."

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to escape her. Javi simply shook his head, still trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

The tension was palpable, but beneath it all was a thread of something more—an unfinished story, a connection that hadn’t yet been severed, no matter how frayed it had become.

As the noise of the bar began to filter back in, the dynamic between the four of them had shifted irrevocably. The past had resurfaced, bringing with it questions, emotions, and unresolved conflicts that would need to be addressed.

The noise of the bar buzzed around them, but Tyler, Javi, and Kate were lost in their own thoughts, processing the revelation and the tension that had just unfolded. Moments later, the door to the back of the bar swung open, and a small figure came running out.

Seven-year-old Noah, with tousled hair and bright eyes, darted through the crowd. His face lit up with pure joy and disbelief as he spotted Tyler. "Dad!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

Tyler’s eyes softened, and he stood up just in time to catch Noah as he launched himself into his arms. Tyler engulfed his son in a big hug, lifting him off the ground as he held him tightly. The boy’s arms wrapped around his father’s neck, holding on as if he were afraid to let go.

"I can't believe you're here, Dad!" Noah exclaimed, his voice muffled against Tyler’s shoulder. He pulled back just enough to look at his father’s face, his eyes wide with happiness and surprise.

Tyler chuckled, ruffling Noah’s hair. "Of course I’m here, buddy. I’ve missed you."

Javi and Kate watched the reunion with a mix of emotions, their earlier confusion and tension melting away in the face of Noah's obvious delight. Kate’s eyes misted over as she saw the unfiltered joy on Noah’s face, while Javi couldn’t help but smile at the touching scene.

Noah glanced over at Javi and Kate, his curiosity piqued. "Who are they, Dad?" he asked, still clinging to Tyler.

Tyler gently set Noah down, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "These are my friends, Javi and Kate. They’re like family to me."

Noah looked at them with wide eyes, a shy smile spreading across his face. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hey, Noah," Javi said warmly, giving a little wave. "Nice to meet you, buddy."

Kate crouched down to Noah’s level, her smile gentle and reassuring. "Hi, Noah. It’s great to meet you."

Noah beamed at that, clearly pleased. He looked back up at Tyler, his face serious for a moment. "Are you staying this time, Dad?"

Tyler’s expression grew solemn as he met his son’s gaze. "I’m here now, Noah. We’ve got a lot to talk about, but I promise I’m not going anywhere."

From the bar, YN watched the reunion with a mix of emotions, her hands resting on her hips. The sight of Noah so happy to see his father softened her stern demeanour, though there was still a guarded look in her eyes.

"Why don’t we all sit down and catch up?" Tyler suggested, his voice gentle as he glanced at YN.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. But remember, this doesn’t change anything," she said, though the edge in her voice was less sharp than before.

The initial excitement of the reunion began to settle, and Tyler looked at YN with a mix of hope and determination. "We’re down here for a week," he said, his voice steady. "Would it be alright if I took Noah to stay with me?"

YN’s eyes narrowed slightly, her protective instincts kicking in. "Stay with you? In some lousy motel room?" she asked, her tone dripping with scepticism.

Javi and Kate exchanged glances, noting how Noah seemed accustomed to his parents' tension. He watched the exchange quietly, his small hands clutching the edge of the table.

Tyler sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t have anywhere else to bring him for the night," he admitted.

Noah looked up at his mom, his eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Mom. Can Dad and his friends stay with us?"

YN hesitated, her eyes softening as she looked at her son. "Noah, you have your big soccer camp in a different state tomorrow," she reminded him, her voice gentle but firm.

Tyler's eyes widened in surprise. "Soccer camp? I didn’t know you played soccer, buddy."

YN’s expression hardened again, her eyes flashing with irritation. "If you’d been around, you’d know," she snapped.

A moment of heavy silence passed between them before YN sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Fine," she said, her tone resigned. "You can stay at the house for the week. But I’m serious, Tyler—if you touch anything, I’ll cut your balls off."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them to Tyler. "I’ve got to wrap up here. I’ll be home soon."

Tyler took the keys, his expression a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thanks, YN. I promise we’ll be respectful."

Noah's face lit up with a smile, and he hugged his mom tightly. "Thank you, Mom!"

YN’s stern expression softened as she hugged Noah back, brushing a hand through his hair. "Go on, get your stuff together. We’ll leave in a bit."

Noah nodded eagerly and dashed off toward the back of the bar, excitement evident in his every step.

Tyler turned to Javi and Kate, who were still absorbing the unexpected developments. "Looks like we have a place to stay," he said with a small smile.

Javi chuckled, shaking his head. "This is not what I expected when we set out today."

Kate nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "No, but it’s… interesting. I think it’s good for you, Tyler."

YN glanced back at them, her expression softening slightly. "You three make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be done soon, and then we can head home."

-

As the night wore on, the bar gradually began to thin out. YN moved with practiced efficiency, announcing last call and starting to kick out the lingering patrons, both men and women, who had stayed for one last drink. The bar's noise ebbed as people shuffled out, some grumbling, others laughing, but all eventually making their way to the door.

Tyler, Javi, and Kate watched as YN’s no-nonsense approach cleared the room. She pulled down the metal protectors over the windows, the loud clanging echoing through the now quiet bar, locking them from the inside. Meanwhile, Noah sat with his dad, chattering about school and his friends, filling Tyler in on all the little details he had missed.

YN made her way around the bar, ensuring everything was locked up securely. She checked the register, wiped down the counter, and flipped off the neon lights, leaving only the dim overhead bulbs casting a soft glow over the room. Finally, she approached the booth where Tyler, Javi, Kate, and Noah sat.

"Alright, time to go," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. She looked down at Noah, a question in her eyes. "Are you driving back with me or your dad?"

Noah glanced up at Tyler, his eyes full of hope. "Can I go with Dad, Mom? Please?"

YN hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. But you stay close to him, okay?"

Noah nodded eagerly, bouncing off the booth and grabbing his dad's hand. Tyler smiled, a wave of relief washing over him.

The group stood and followed YN to the front of the bar. She unlocked the door, the cool night air rushing in as they stepped outside. Tyler glanced back, taking in the now quiet bar with a sense of nostalgia.

YN stepped out after them, locking the door and pulling it shut with a finality that echoed in the stillness of the night. "You better take care of him," she said, her voice a mix of warning and something softer, something almost hopeful.

Tyler nodded. "I will."

She gave a small, almost imperceptible smile before turning to Noah. "I'll see you at home, kiddo. Behave for your dad, okay?"

Noah hugged her tightly. "I will, Mom. I promise."

With that, YN got into her car, the engine roaring to life as she pulled out of the parking lot. Tyler, Javi, Kate, and Noah watched her go, the taillights disappearing into the night.

Tyler looked down at Noah, who was beaming up at him. "Ready to go home, buddy?"

Noah nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Let's go!"

As they drove through the quiet streets, the hum of the truck’s engine filled the space with a comforting rhythm. Noah, sitting in the front seat in front of Tyler and Kate, couldn’t contain his excitement. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he turned to Kate and Javi, eager to share the details of his upcoming soccer camp.

“I can’t wait for the soccer camp tomorrow!” Noah said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “It’s gonna be so much fun!”

Kate, sitting behind him, smiled warmly. “That sounds amazing, Noah. What’s so special about this camp?”

Noah’s face lit up even more as he spoke. “It’s a big camp where lots of kids from different places come to learn new soccer skills and play games. There’s even gonna be a mini-tournament at the end!”

Javi, sitting in the backseat, leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Wow, that sounds like a blast! Do you play a lot of soccer at school too?”

“Yeah!” Noah replied eagerly. “I’m on the school team, and we’ve been practicing a lot. This camp is going to be so cool because I’ll get to learn from really good coaches and play with kids from other schools.”

Tyler glanced at Noah, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “Sounds like you’ve been working hard. I’m really proud of you, Noah.”

Noah’s smile widened at his dad’s praise. “Thanks, Dad! And guess what? My Uncle Matt is bringing me down to the camp tomorrow afternoon.”

Javi raised an eyebrow. “Your uncle?”

“Yeah,” Noah nodded vigorously. “He’s my mom’s brother. He lives a few hours away, but he’s coming to pick me up and drive me to the camp. I haven’t seen him in ages, and he promised he’d take me for ice cream on the way.”

Kate looked impressed. “That sounds like a lot of fun. It must be nice to have family supporting you.”

Noah nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it is! Uncle Matt always makes things fun. He even used to play soccer with Mom when they were kids.”

Tyler’s gaze softened as he listened to Noah’s excitement. “I’m glad you’re so excited about the camp.”

Noah nodded, his eyes shining with anticipation. “I am! And I’m really happy you’re here, Dad. I can’t wait to tell you all about it when I get back.”

Tyler glanced at Javi and Kate, sharing a look that conveyed both appreciation and a renewed sense of purpose. This week was more than just a break; it was a chance to reconnect with his son, to be a part of his life in a way he hadn’t been able to before.

The truck rumbled up the gravel driveway, and as the headlights illuminated the house, the group caught their first glimpse of Noah's home. It was a charming ranch-style house, with a wide, welcoming front porch that extended across the front. The house had a warm, rustic appeal, its wooden siding painted a soft, weathered beige that blended harmoniously with the surrounding landscape. The wind, which had picked up slightly, rustled through the tall grass that framed the property, adding to the serene yet lively atmosphere.

As Tyler, Kate, and Javi stepped out of the truck, they were immediately met with the enthusiastic barking of Noah’s two German Shepherds. The dogs, bounding with energy, leaped toward them, their barks echoing in the cool evening air. Their fur was sleek and shiny, and their eyes glinted with excitement as they approached.

Javi laughed, holding his hands up in a gesture of friendly surrender. “Wow, those dogs really know how to make an entrance!”

Noah, already bursting with excitement, unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of the truck. He raced across the driveway, his footsteps quick and light as he ran toward the porch. The dogs, recognizing him instantly, turned their attention away from the newcomers and bounded after Noah, their tails wagging furiously.

Tyler and Kate watched with smiles as Noah reached the porch and threw himself into his mother’s arms. YN, standing on the porch with a warm smile, embraced Noah tightly, her expression softening as she held him close. The sight of the mother and son reunion was heart-warming, a clear sign of the strong bond they shared despite the complications.

Kate nudged Tyler gently, a playful glint in her eyes. “You know, the resemblance really proves Noah is definitely your child. Look at him, he’s got your energy.”

Tyler chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. “Yeah, I guess he does.”

As YN set Noah down, she looked up and offered a polite nod to Kate and Javi, her demeanour shifting to one of friendly hospitality. “Welcome to our home, Kate, Javi. It’s good to have you here.”

“Thanks for having us,” Kate replied warmly, returning YN’s smile. “Your place is beautiful.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting us stay,” Javi added, his tone appreciative.

YN's smile faded slightly as her gaze shifted to Tyler, her expression turning cold. “Let’s get your bags inside,” she said, her tone losing its warmth. “I’ll show you to the guest rooms.”

Tyler, feeling the chill in her voice, nodded. “Thanks, YN.”

They began unloading their bags from the truck, the dogs playfully nipping at their heels. The house, with its wide front porch and sprawling lawn, had a comfortable, lived-in feel. It was a stark contrast to the bustling city and the more impersonal surroundings Tyler was used to.

Once the bags were all gathered, they followed YN and Noah into the house. The interior was cozy, with warm wooden floors, rustic furniture, and an inviting atmosphere. YN led them through the front door, and the scent of home-cooked meals and fresh pine greeted them.

Noah, holding onto his mom’s hand, turned to Tyler with a big smile. “Come on, Dad! I want to show you my room!”

YN’s expression softened as she looked at her son’s excitement but remained cool towards Tyler. “Alright, Noah. Let’s get your dad and his friends settled first.”

She led them down a hallway, pointing out rooms as they went. “Kate, Javi, you’ll be in here,” she said, opening the door to a charming guest room. “There are fresh towels in the closet and extra blankets if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Kate said, her smile appreciative. Javi nodded in agreement, taking in the room with a grateful glance.

YN then turned to Tyler, her demeanour growing even colder. “Tyler, you’ll be in this room,” she said, opening the door to a smaller but comfortable room. “If you need anything, just ask.”

Tyler placed his bag inside, feeling the weight of the tension between them. “Thanks, YN,” he said quietly.

YN didn’t respond immediately, instead turning her attention to Noah. “Noah, why don’t you show your dad around while I finish up a few things?”

Noah nodded eagerly, grabbing Tyler’s hand. “Come on, Dad! I can’t wait to show you everything!”

Tyler allowed himself to be led down the hall, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. As he looked back, he saw YN watching them, her expression a complicated mix of emotions.

-

The late evening had settled into a calm, quiet stillness, the only sounds being the gentle creaking of the old ranch house and the occasional rustle of leaves outside. After a full day, Tyler had just put Noah to bed, reading him a story and watching as his son’s eyes grew heavy with sleep. Satisfied that Noah was comfortably settled, he quietly exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Down the hall, the dim light of the kitchen spilled into the hallway, casting a warm, subdued glow. Tyler walked towards it, curious. As he reached the kitchen, he saw YN packing a bag on the table, her movements deliberate and methodical. She was gathering Noah’s football boots, kit, and other essentials, making sure everything was in place for the big soccer camp.

YN didn’t notice Tyler at first, her focus entirely on her task. The soft light highlighted the determined set of her jaw and the slight furrow of concentration on her brow. Tyler stood at the threshold for a moment, taking in the scene, before he cleared his throat gently to announce his presence.

YN looked up, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “He’s asleep?” she asked, her voice steady but quiet.

Tyler nodded, stepping into the kitchen. “Yeah, he’s out like a light. I read him one of his favourite stories.”

YN gave a small, almost imperceptible nod and continued packing. “He always loved bedtime stories. Especially the ones about tornadoes.”

Tyler watched her for a moment, then spoke softly. “You’re packing his bag for the camp?”

“Yes,” YN replied curtly, not looking up. “He’s got a lot to take with him, and I want to make sure he has everything he needs or more.”

Tyler moved a little closer, his gaze following her hands as she carefully folded Noah’s kit and placed it into the bag. “Can I help?”

YN paused, her hands still for a moment, then she sighed softly. “Sure. You can check if his water bottle is in the fridge. He’ll need that filled and ready.”

Tyler nodded, grateful for even this small opportunity to assist. He walked over to the fridge, retrieving the water bottle and filling it at the sink. The silence between them was thick, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension.

After a few moments, Tyler spoke again. “He’s really excited about this camp. It’s all he talked about on the drive here.”

YN’s hands stilled again, and she looked up, her eyes meeting his. “He’s been looking forward to it for months. It’s a big deal for him.”

Tyler nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “I’m glad he has something like this. He’s a great kid.”

“Yes, he is,” YN agreed, her voice softening slightly.

Tyler set the filled water bottle on the table and, in a sudden impulse, stepped closer to YN, wrapping his arms around her waist. She jerked back, startled, and pushed him away, her eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and anger.

“Tyler, we can’t do this every time you’re here,” she said, her voice firm and edged with frustration. “We act all happy, kiss, fuck, and then you leave. I won’t allow that.”

But as Tyler’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with a longing that mirrored her own buried emotions, he wrapped his hand gently around her neck and pulled her closer. His lips met hers in a deep, passionate kiss, pressing her against the table. YN resisted for a moment, her hands on his chest ready to push him away, but then she caved, her defences crumbling as the kiss deepened.

The world outside the kitchen seemed to disappear as they lost themselves in the moment. The kiss was filled with unspoken words, regrets, and a raw, undeniable connection that neither could ignore. Tyler’s hand slid from her neck to the small of her back, pulling her even closer, while YN’s hands slowly moved up to tangle in his hair.

Finally, they broke apart, both breathing heavily, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air between them. YN looked into Tyler’s eyes, a mix of anger, longing, and vulnerability in her gaze.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “You still have a lot to prove.”

“I know,” Tyler replied, his voice equally soft but resolute. “And I will. I promise.”

YN took a deep breath, stepping back and smoothing her hair. “We should finish packing. Noah needs to be ready for tomorrow.”

Tyler nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, let’s finish up.”

YN finished packing the bag, zipping it closed with a final, decisive motion. She straightened up, looking at Tyler with a mix of determination and lingering hurt. “Just don’t disappoint him, Tyler. You had let down enough.”

Tyler swallowed, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. “I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll do everything I can to be the father he deserves.”

YN nodded, a slight, weary smile touching her lips. “Good night, Tyler.”

“Good night, YN,” he replied, watching as she turned and left the kitchen, the dim light casting long shadows behind her.

-

The next morning, the ranch was bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. Birds chirped in the trees, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The tranquillity was occasionally punctuated by the sounds of preparation, as YN and her brother Matt stood by his truck, loading up Noah’s bag for the soccer camp.

Noah, bouncing with excitement, was saying his goodbyes to Tyler, Kate, and Javi. He hugged Kate and Javi, thanking them for their visit, before turning to his father. Tyler knelt down to Noah’s level, wrapping his son in a big hug.

“Have a great time at camp, buddy,” Tyler said, ruffling Noah’s hair. “I’m really proud of you.”

Tyler replied with a smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Noah nodded, then ran over to where Matt was loading the last of his gear into the truck. Matt, a tall, sturdy man with an easy-going demeanour, lifted Noah’s bag effortlessly and placed it in the back of the truck. He gave his nephew a high-five before turning to his sister.

As Noah clambered into the truck, Matt leaned closer to YN, his expression curious. “Did y’all fuck again?” he asked, his tone genuine and slightly teasing.

YN’s eyes widened, and she quickly elbowed him in the ribs. “No,” she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else heard. “God, Matt, why would you ask that?”

Matt rubbed his side, a smirk playing at his lips. “Just curious. You had that look in your eye this morning.”

“What look?” YN shot back, her voice low but sharp.

“The one that says you’re all conflicted and worked up,” Matt replied, his tone softening slightly. “Just concerned about you.”

YN sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. “It’s complicated, Matt. But no, nothing happened. We’re just trying to figure things out for Noah’s sake.”

Matt nodded, his expression turning serious. “I get it. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, okay?”

“I will,” YN promised, giving her brother a grateful smile. “Thanks, Matt.”

Tyler walked over to join them, his gaze shifting between YN and Matt. “Everything set?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” Matt replied, giving Tyler a nod. “Noah’s ready to go.”

Noah popped his head out of the truck, waving enthusiastically. “Bye, Dad! Bye, Kate! Bye, Javi! See you soon!”

“Bye, Noah!” Kate and Javi called back, waving.

Tyler smiled and waved, his heart swelling with pride and a tinge of sadness. “Bye, Noah. Have fun, and listen to your uncle, okay?”

“I will!” Noah shouted back, his excitement evident.

With everything in place, Matt climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. YN gave Noah one last hug and a kiss on the forehead before stepping back.

After watching the truck disappear down the road, YN and Tyler turned back toward the house. As they walked, the silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable. They reached the front porch where Javi and Kate were waiting, enjoying the fresh morning air.

YN gave them a warm smile. “So, are you two as madly obsessed with tornadoes as Tyler?” she asked, her tone playful but genuinely curious.

Javi chuckled, exchanging a glance with Kate. “Pretty much. It’s kind of hard not to be when you’re around him.”

Kate nodded, grinning. “Yeah, it’s definitely infectious. Tyler’s passion rubs off on everyone.”

YN’s smile widened a bit, and she motioned for them to follow her. “Well, come with me. I want to show you something.”

Curious, Javi and Kate followed YN, with Tyler trailing slightly behind. She led them across the yard to a large shed. As she opened the door, they stepped inside and were immediately struck by the sight of a whiteboard covered with detailed tornado studies, including diagrams, photographs, and various notes. The walls were lined with shelves full of meteorological instruments and equipment.

“Wow,” Kate breathed, her eyes wide with amazement. “This is incredible.”

Tyler stepped forward, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “YN used to chase tornadoes with me when we became married. She was just as passionate about it as I was.”

YN turned to face them, her expression a mixture of pride and practicality. “Yeah, I was. We made a great team, tracking storms and gathering data. But after I had Noah, things changed. Babies are expensive, and I needed a real job to support us.”

Her gaze shifted to Tyler, a hint of tension in her eyes. “Tornado chasing doesn’t exactly pay the bills.”

Javi and Kate listened, sensing the complexity of YN’s feelings. Javi stepped closer to the whiteboard, studying the detailed notes and diagrams. “You really know your stuff. It’s clear you were—and still are—a huge asset in the field.”

YN’s expression softened, appreciating the acknowledgment. “Thank you. I still follow the research and keep up with the latest developments. It’s hard to let go completely.”

Kate nodded, glancing between YN and Tyler. “It must have been amazing to chase storms together. But I understand why you had to make that choice.”

YN smiled gently, a mix of gratitude and bittersweet memories in her eyes. “It was amazing. And I don’t regret any of it. But priorities change, and I had to put Noah first.”

YN cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to the whiteboard. She pointed to a specific section filled with charts, graphs, and a detailed map marked with various weather patterns and historical data.

“Based on the latest alerts and previous occurrences, there’s a high probability that a tornado might strike today,” YN explained, her voice steady and professional. “The conditions are almost identical to past events that resulted in tornadoes in this area.”

Javi and Kate leaned in closer, examining the data with keen interest. Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he followed YN’s explanation, his mind already shifting into storm-chaser mode.

“I’ve been monitoring the weather patterns all week,” YN continued. “And everything indicates that we’re due for some severe weather today. The wind shear, humidity, and temperature changes are all pointing towards a potential tornado formation.”

Kate glanced at YN, impressed. “You really haven’t lost your touch, YN. This is some detailed analysis.”

YN smiled modestly. “Thanks. It’s hard to shake off old habits.”

As they looked out the window of the shed, they noticed the wind beginning to pick up. The leaves on the trees rustled vigorously, and the sky had taken on a slightly ominous hue, with dark clouds gathering in the distance.

Tyler stepped closer to the window, his instincts kicking in. “You’re right. The wind’s starting to stir up. We need to be prepared.”

YN nodded, her expression serious. “We need to keep a close eye on the weather reports and be ready to take cover if necessary. This area is no stranger to tornadoes, and we’ve got to stay vigilant.”

Javi turned to Tyler, his excitement barely contained. “Should we gear up and get the equipment ready? If a tornado does form, we’ll want to be ready to gather data.”

Tyler hesitated, glancing at YN. “What do you think? We don’t want to put anyone at risk.”

YN considered for a moment, then nodded. “We can set up some basic monitoring equipment around the property, but safety comes first. We’ll stay close to the house and make sure we have a safe place to take cover if things get serious.”

Kate started jotting down notes, already planning the setup. “We’ll need to monitor wind speeds, humidity levels, and temperature changes. I’ll get the anemometers and barometers from the truck.”

As they worked together to prepare, the tension in the air grew. The wind outside continued to pick up, whipping through the trees and sending small debris skittering across the yard. Dark clouds loomed overhead, casting an eerie shadow over the landscape.

Tyler turned to YN, his expression a mix of determination and concern. “YN, would you want to go chasing tornadoes again? Just like old times?”

YN paused, the question hanging in the air. She looked at Tyler, a swirl of emotions in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah. It’s been a long time, and I miss having you out there with me. Besides, with the conditions today, we could really use your expertise.”

YN looked out the window, the wind howling louder now. Her passion for storm chasing still burned bright, and the thought of getting back out there, even just for a day, was tempting. She turned back to Tyler, a determined smile forming on her lips. “Alright. Let’s do it. But we stay safe, and we stay smart but I bet that's hard for you.”

Tyler’s face lit up with a mix of relief and excitement. “Deal.”

YN and Tyler sprinted toward his truck. The wind was picking up rapidly, whipping their hair and clothes as they ran. Tyler reached the truck first, yanking open the back and checking the equipment. Barrels, sensors, and cameras were all securely fastened, ready for deployment.

“We’re good to go!” Tyler shouted over the roar of the wind, giving YN a thumbs-up.

YN nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and anticipation. “Let’s make sure everything is double-checked. We can’t afford any mistakes out there.”

Together, they quickly went through a mental checklist, ensuring every piece of equipment was in place and ready for action. Meanwhile, Kate and Javi were hustling to pack up the radars and additional monitoring gear. They worked with practiced efficiency, their movements swift and precise.

“Radars are set!” Kate called out as she slammed the tailgate of their support vehicle shut.

Javi gave a quick nod, securing the last of the equipment. “We’re ready. Let’s get moving before this thing really kicks off.”

The group piled into Tyler’s truck, the atmosphere inside charged with excitement and urgency. Tyler took the driver’s seat, YN sliding in beside him. Javi and Kate squeezed into the back, their eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of the impending storm.

As they pulled out of the driveway, the wind was already strong enough to rock the truck slightly. Dark, menacing clouds swirled above, casting an eerie shadow over the landscape. Tyler kept one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the radio to the local weather station for updates.

“We need to get to the very center of it,” YN said, her voice steady but filled with determination. “That’s where we’ll get the most accurate data.”

Tyler nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “We’ll head west. That’s where the reports are indicating the strongest activity. Everyone, keep your eyes peeled.”

The truck sped down the rural roads, the wind howling louder with each passing minute. Leaves and small branches were whipped into the air, and the sky grew darker, an ominous prelude to the storm’s fury.

Kate leaned forward from the back seat, her voice tense but excited. “I’m picking up increased rotation on the radar. It’s definitely forming.”

Javi was already setting up the portable radar unit, his fingers flying over the controls. “We’ve got about ten minutes before it hits full force. We need to find a safe spot to deploy the barrels.”

Tyler pushed the truck harder, his foot pressing the accelerator to the floor. “We’re almost there. Everyone, get ready.”

They arrived at an open field, a perfect spot to launch their equipment without any obstructions. Tyler brought the truck to a screeching halt, and they all jumped out, working quickly to unload the barrels and sensors. The wind whipped around them, making every movement a struggle.

“Set the barrels here!” YN shouted, pointing to strategic spots around the field. “We need a wide spread to get the best data.”

They worked in synchrony, years of experience guiding their actions. Barrels were placed, sensors activated, and cameras positioned to capture every angle of the storm’s development. The wind was now almost deafening, the first drops of rain starting to pelt down.

“Okay, everything’s in place!” Javi yelled, his voice barely audible over the howling wind.

Tyler gave a final check, ensuring everything was secure. “Back in the truck, now! We need to move to a safe distance.”

They scrambled back into the truck, slamming the doors shut against the force of the wind. Tyler drove them a short distance away, finding a spot where they could monitor the barrels and sensors without being in immediate danger.

Inside the truck, the tension was palpable. They watched as the storm continued to build, the radar showing increasing rotation and intensity.

“Here it comes,” YN said quietly, her eyes glued to the horizon. “Get ready, everyone.”

As they turned the truck around to face the direction they had come from, the tornado materialized in full force. It was a monstrous, swirling vortex, far stronger and more violent than any of them had anticipated. The sheer power of it took their breath away, and for a moment, there was stunned silence inside the truck.

"Tyler, hit the gas!" Javi screamed, breaking the spell as the tornado surged closer, the wind howling louder than ever.

Kate clutched the seat in front of her, eyes wide with terror. "Go, go, go! It's coming right at us!"

Tyler didn’t need to be told twice. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the truck lurched forward with a roar, tires spinning for a moment before gaining traction. The engine roared as they sped away from the impending doom.

YN gripped the dashboard, her knuckles white. “Drive into town! We need to get to the shelter!” she yelled, her voice barely audible over the deafening noise of the storm and the wail of the tornado sirens that had just started blaring in the distance.

Tyler's eyes were locked on the road, his focus razor-sharp as he maneuverer the truck through the increasingly treacherous conditions. Debris flew through the air, and the rain was coming down in blinding sheets, making visibility almost zero. He squinted through the windshield, barely making out the shapes of trees and houses as they sped past.

The wind buffeted the truck from side to side, each gust threatening to push them off the road. Javi and Kate huddled in the back, gripping whatever they could to steady themselves. The tension was palpable, fear mixing with adrenaline as they raced against nature’s fury.

“We’re almost there!” Tyler shouted, though the words were more for his own reassurance than anything else. He could see the outline of the town ahead, the familiar shapes of buildings providing a glimmer of hope.

As they barrelled into town, the sirens wailed louder, their eerie wail cutting through the chaos. People scrambled for cover, but it was clear there was no dedicated shelter nearby. The streets were filled with panic-stricken faces, families huddling together, and everyone looking desperately for a place to hide.

“There!” YN pointed towards the old cinema, its marquee flickering in the storm. “We need to get everyone inside! It’s our best shot!”

Tyler swerved towards the cinema, the truck skidding slightly on the wet pavement but maintaining control. They reached the cinema just as the tornado seemed to roar with renewed fury, the swirling winds growing even more intense.

“Everyone out! Now!” Tyler commanded, slamming the truck into park and jumping out.

They all scrambled out of the truck, running towards the entrance of the cinema. Tyler and YN threw the doors open, ushering people inside. The lobby quickly filled with a mass of frightened, drenched townspeople, their faces masks of fear and urgency.

“There’s no basement!” a man shouted, panic rising in his voice as he scanned the building.

“We’ll have to make do!” YN yelled back, trying to maintain some semblance of order. “Everyone, get to the back of the theatre! Away from the windows!”

They herded everyone into the main auditorium, the old seats creaking as people pressed in tightly. The walls shuddered with each gust of wind, and the overhead lights flickered ominously. Tyler, YN, Javi, and Kate took positions by the doors, doing their best to calm the panicked crowd.

“Keep away from the doors and windows!” Tyler shouted, trying to be heard over the growing cacophony. “Get down and cover your heads!”

The wind outside was deafening, a relentless howl that seemed to penetrate the very walls of the cinema. The roof groaned under the pressure, and with a horrifying screech, a section of it began to peel away. Dust and debris rained down, and the crowd screamed in terror.

“Stay calm!” YN tried to shout, her voice nearly drowned out. She grabbed a young mother clutching her child and guided them to the relative safety of the aisle. “Stay low and cover your heads!”

Tyler ran to the centre of the auditorium, his voice strong and commanding. “Everyone, stay together! We’ll get through this!”

Javi and Kate moved through the crowd, helping to calm people and keep them as safe as possible. But the noise was overwhelming, and the fear was palpable. The building shuddered violently as another section of the roof began to rip away, exposing them to the fury of the storm.

A fierce wind gust whipped through the open space, sending papers and loose objects flying. The sound was like a freight train bearing down on them, and the temperature seemed to drop as the tornado closed in.

Tyler grabbed YN’s hand, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of determination and fear. “We need to hold on. We’ve faced worse before.”

YN nodded, squeezing his hand back.

Suddenly, the main doors blew open, the wind slamming them against the walls. People screamed as the full force of the storm invaded the theatre. Tyler and YN ran to secure the doors, but the wind was too strong, making it nearly impossible.

“Get back!” Javi shouted, pulling them away just as another piece of the roof tore off, sending debris raining down.

They retreated to the back of the theatre, joining the huddled mass of townspeople. YN shielded a young girl with her body, while Tyler did the same for an elderly couple. The wind roared, and the structure of the building groaned as if it might collapse at any moment.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the wind seemed to lose some of its ferocity. The howling diminished to a deafening roar, and the debris stopped flying. The eye of the storm passed over them, giving a brief respite.

Tyler looked up, panting. “We need to move. If we’re in the eye, the other side of the tornado will hit soon. We need to find a more secure spot.”

YN nodded, urgency in her eyes. “Everyone, stay close! We need to move quickly and find better cover!”

But before they could organize the next move, the wind picked up again, signalling the approach of the tornado’s second half. The noise returned, louder than before, and the remaining sections of the roof began to buckle.

“Hold on to something!” Kate screamed, gripping a nearby seat.

The storm’s fury was unrelenting, the howling wind now a deafening roar that consumed everything. Inside the theatre, the panicked crowd clung desperately to the metal railings that lined the aisles, their white-knuckled grips their only anchor against the tornado’s immense force.

“Hold on tight!” Tyler shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony. He braced himself against the railing, his other arm wrapped protectively around YN.

Debris swirled through the air, and the theatre's walls creaked ominously. A sudden gust of wind tore through the room, lifting seats and sending smaller objects flying. A few unfortunate souls lost their grip and were swept away, their screams lost in the maelstrom.

YN’s fingers were slipping on the railing, the sweat and dust making it nearly impossible to hold on. “Tyler!” she cried out, her voice filled with fear as she felt her grip weakening.

Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest as he saw YN’s desperate struggle. He reached out, his hand closing around her wrist just as her fingers slipped free. “I’ve got you!” he yelled, his voice a mix of determination and fear.

The wind howled with renewed ferocity, and Tyler tightened his grip, pulling YN closer. She clung to him, her body trembling with the effort to stay grounded. Around them, the chaos continued, people holding on for dear life as the storm battered the theatre.

A particularly strong gust rocked the building, and Tyler felt his own hold on the railing waver. He gritted his teeth, using every ounce of strength to keep both himself and YN anchored. “Don’t let go!” he shouted, his voice raw with strain.

YN’s eyes met his, wide with fear but also filled with trust. “I won’t,” she promised, her voice barely more than a whisper.

As the storm raged on, the moments stretched into what felt like an eternity. Tyler could feel his muscles burning, every tendon straining to keep his grip. He glanced around, seeing Javi and Kate nearby, their faces set with grim determination as they held on.

“Hold tight, everyone!” Kate screamed, her voice cutting through the noise. “We’re almost through this!”

The theatre's structure groaned under the pressure, the walls and ceiling shaking as the tornado’s full force bore down on them. The wind was a relentless beast, tugging at everything in its path. Tyler’s grip tightened on YN’s wrist, his other hand aching from holding onto the railing.

Suddenly, a piece of the ceiling gave way, crashing down with a deafening noise. Dust and debris filled the air, and for a moment, it was impossible to see or breathe. Tyler coughed, his eyes stinging, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Stay with me, YN!” he shouted, his voice hoarse.

“I’m here!” she responded, her voice strong despite the fear.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wind began to subside. The roar of the tornado faded to a distant howl, and the violent shaking of the building eased. The storm was passing, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Tyler took a deep, shaky breath, his muscles screaming in protest as he slowly released his grip on the railing. He pulled YN into a tight embrace, relief flooding through him. “We made it,” he whispered, his voice filled with exhaustion and relief.

YN clung to him, her body trembling with the aftershocks of fear and adrenaline. “Thank you,” she whispered back, her voice choked with emotion.

Without thinking, driven by an overwhelming surge of emotion, Tyler cupped YN’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply. It was a kiss filled with relief, love, and a promise of never letting go. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

YN responded instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervour. Tears mixed with the dirt on her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that they were together, alive, and safe.

When they finally broke apart, YN looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Tyler, please,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Never leave me again. Please.”

Tyler rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll never leave you again, YN. I swear it.”

They held each other tightly, the chaos around them fading into the background as they found solace in each other’s arms. The bond that had once been strained was now reinforced by the shared trauma and the depth of their love.

Javi and Kate staggered over, their faces pale but relieved. “Is everyone okay?” Javi asked, his voice rough from the dust and strain.

Tyler nodded, still holding YN close. “We’re okay. We’re all okay.”

Kate glanced around the devastated theatre, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That was… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

YN pulled back slightly from Tyler, her hand still holding his. “We need to make sure everyone’s accounted for and get the injured some help.”

Tyler nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Right. Let’s do a headcount and see who needs assistance.”

Together, they moved through the theatre, helping those who had been thrown by the wind and checking on the injured. The sense of community and shared survival was palpable, everyone working together to ensure that no one was left behind.

As they helped an elderly couple to their feet, YN glanced at Tyler, her eyes still filled with emotion. “We’ve faced worse storms, but this… this was different.”

Tyler squeezed her hand, offering a small, encouraging smile. "Please let me back to you guys, nearly losing you there hurt me more than leaving you all those years back."

...

Requests are open!

Tagging:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

[luveline]

Hey lovely, How about Hotch and wife!reader having their first family outing with new baby, a walk in the park or grocery shopping something like that you can pick.

Hope your having a good weekend lovely Xx <3 🌼

ty for your request ily <3 —you and Hotch juggle your small family for the first time. fem, 1.2k

“Please hold my hand?” 

Having a baby has activated some intrafamily jealousy, but you don’t mind. You’re cooing at Noah adoringly when Jack interrupts, thrusting his hand in the air, the very beginning of a tantrum lining his eyes and his thin eyebrows pinched like a threat. 

“Baby, don’t you wanna come and sit up here with Noah?” you ask. There’s not much room next to the carrier, but Jack's slight. 

He shakes his head, hand poking your tummy. Grocery shopping with Jack has always been hard, he wants to look at everything, wants to take the list, and doesn’t ever wanna sit in the cart, but it’s proving harder today. 

“Aaron, you have to push the cart.” 

He’s been begging you to let him for the last half hour. “It’s gonna tire me out,” he says, nudging you aside by the hip, “but I think I can handle it for you. You did call me by my first name for once. We reward good behaviour in this family.” 

You roll your eyes and take Jack’s little hand. Calling him Aaron now you’ve had a baby together should feel natural, but it doesn’t. It feels more like a loving nickname than his actual name —over two years of calling him Hotch is hard to ignore. 

Jack gives you a loving look that makes the fuss worth it. “This is fun,” he says. 

“This is awesome.” 

You and Jack got used to doing grocery shopping by yourselves while you were on your maternity leave without his dad. With Hotch now on his own paternity leave to accompany you, it is admittedly easier, and much more fun. You and Jack swing your hands together as Hotch steers the cart and your baby into the cereal aisle, which’ll take hours to get through, no doubt, but it doesn’t matter. What else is there to do? 

You make it Hotch’s job to say no to the boxes that are mostly sugar, and, unfortunately for Jack, get distracted by Noah in his baby carrier where it’s locked into the cart. His eyes reluctant to open, tired, dark lashes threaded together at their corners, his tiny mouth. “Aw, look at you, handsome, you’re nearly smiling. You look just like your daddy, he never wants to smile either,” you say, tapping his nose. 

Your saccharine tone prompts distress. “Y/N,” Jack whines, “you need to help me choose the cereal.” He yanks at your hand. 

“Jack, don’t start, bud.” 

“Dad,” Jack pouts. 

“No, it’s okay. We’re supposed to be sharing everybody now, so Jack gets to share me too. I’ll help you pick some cereal. I don’t mind,” you say. 

You sort of do mind, just a bit. This is Noah’s first time out in the world that wasn’t sitting peacefully in the backyard, and you don’t want him to be scared. Maybe baby’s can’t be scared, you don’t know. It’s nicer to feel close to him in these big moments. But it’s Jack’s first time having a baby brother at the store, too, so you’ll have to make it work. 

“You don’t have to,” Hotch says. 

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” You bend down to see the cereal selection. “They have your favourite, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And your second, Fruity Pebbles. It’s up to you, it’s your treat.” 

Jack gasps and hits a box of Fruity Pebbles, “Barney’s on the box now!” he says, pointing at the blonde character behind the cereal bowl. 

You give a soft laugh quickly lost as Jack’s force topples the box. It hits the floor with a light crunch. “Oh, whoops. Let’s pick this up,” you say, popping down into a crouch without thinking. 

“Honey–” Hotch says, which would surely be followed by a Should you be doing that? if you weren’t already flopping onto one knee in pain. 

Bad idea. Terrible idea. Having a baby tears a mixture of tissue and muscle, and while the fiery pain of labour has since become a bad memory, a spike of trauma erupts between your legs. “Ow,” you yelp, eyes welling with unbidden tears. 

“Y/N!” Jack and Hotch say simultaneously. 

“Are you alright?” Hotch asks, bending at the waist to grab you, never cruel but clearly perturbed as his hands grasp your shoulders. They slip down under your arms. “Come on, can you stand up?”

You blink away tears and force yourself to stand with his help. He’s quick to pull you close, one hand on your wrist, head ducked to see your face. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

You let out a queasy breath. “Something’s not done fixing itself,” you joke weakly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks again, lower. 

“I’m fine.” You’d love to sit down. The pain is a thrum like your heartbeat now, hurting but half as intense. “I’m okay. Really, it just shocked me.” 

He slips his arm around your neck to encourage you in for a temple kiss. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You wiggle out of Hotch’s hold. Jack stands with a large pout near the fallen box of cereal, his hands twisting together over his tummy. “It’s okay,” you say. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, panicked tears slipping down his cheeks. “You hurt getting it and it was mine, I’m sorry.” His voice squeezes out of him in guilty pangs. 

“It’s okay!” you repeat, leaning over with a wince to offer your arms, “It’s really okay, it’s not your fault. Don’t be upset, baby, I’m fine.” 

You hoist Jack into your arms as he begins crying in earnest. His crying startles Noah, who starts to whimper, and then sob despite Hotch’s gentle shushing. You look at one another in mild defeat, your hand cupping the back of Jack’s head as he clings to you for reassurance. 

Noah’s sobbing is like a ringing bell. Jack says he’s sorry into your neck, and it’s such a desperate scene you let a laugh slip out. “Aw, baby,” you say, smiling as you press your nose to his cheek, “it’s really okay. It wasn’t your fault at all, it was just ‘cos I’m out of practice. I’m just tired.” 

“You fell.” 

Noah gurgles behind you. “I know,” Hotch says quietly. “I know. You’re okay, bud. Jack’s okay. Mom’s okay. Shh, shh.” 

It’s obviously not how you’d want your shopping trip to go, but Jack’s crying eventually slows, sapping all of his energy, and so he finally agrees to sit in the cart. The only problem is that he doesn’t fit there as well as you’d thought he would. Hotch ends up carrying him the entire time you’re in the store, and Noah doesn’t ever settle. You’re like zombies when you get back to the car, a headache stark between your ears and evident in his pinched brow. 

“Let’s try again in a few weeks,” Hotch suggests. “I can go by myself. Or we can make somebody else.”  

You wish you had the energy to kiss his brow, giving a defeated nod as you slouch down into your seat, grateful at least for his hand on your knee. “Okay.” 

[concretejunglefm]

inspired by a thot @floodflameschosen had about Noah after dethrone hehe 💕

CW: includes mentions of rough unprotected sex, possessive!noah, semi-public

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

It all starts with that roar.

You’re at the side of the stage when the final encore begins, watching as Noah effortlessly falls to his knees, letting out a guttural roar. You once joked that his roar made your coochie vibrate, but it’s definitely not a joke—not when you feel a rush of heat pooling between your thighs every time you’re fortunate enough to witness this set and see him in all his glory. The way his muscles ripple with every growl he lets out into the mic, how he paces back and forth like a caged animal.

Sometimes, he glances off in your direction, and for that split second, you catch the flicker of heat in his eye. He looks angry, but there’s no anger directed at you—only lust. It makes your body flush, and you can’t look away from him for the entire performance.

When Noah finally steps off the stage, the roar of the crowd still echoes in his ears, his chest heaving beneath his sweat-soaked tank. Strands of damp hair cling to his forehead, and his eyes, wild and dark, reflect the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Naturally, he’s drawn to you, pulled in like a magnet.

A large, tattooed hand comes up and settles at the back of your neck, pulling you in. His mouth crashes against yours in a kiss that’s more like a growl. His hands grip your hips, possessive and bruising, while his entire body trembles, desperate and needy. The sharp pinch of his teeth against your lower lip makes you hiss before you break away, his intentions quickly revealing.

“Come with me,” he growls lowly, barely giving you time to process what he’s saying. You’re still completely dazed by the kiss, nodding in agreement as you glance back at him. Before you can even think about what’s happening, he takes your hand and leads you to the nearest private room, just the two of you.

Noah needs only one thing at this moment, and that’s you, fueled by his intense desire for you.

Slipping into a nearby storage closet, his body presses against yours, radiating heat. As his hands slip under your clothes, urgent and rough, his mouth presses to your neck. “I need you,” he rasps, pinning you against the wall as if he needs to fuse with you to come down from the high. “Fuck—I need you,” he repeats, lifting your leg around his waist. Your panties are pulled to the side as he shoves down his pants enough to slip himself free and take you—fast, raw, and desperate.

Every thrust is a claim, burying himself deep into you, making you bounce against the wall as he keeps you pinned there by his own larger frame. Every breathless moan and the growing animalistic sound in his throat is broken by; “I’m sorry—but I need you, I need this,” and “you have no idea what you do to me. My perfect fucking toy.”

All you can do is hold on as Noah fucks the adrenaline out of his system—rough, hungry, like you’re the only anchor keeping him from burning out completely. His thrusts are deep, relentless, slamming into you with a force that knocks out the faintest, broken sounds from your lips. Each one is higher than the last, your breath catching in your throat, pleasure intertwined with the way it teeters on the edge of becoming too much—but never quite crossing that line.

His forehead rests against yours for a brief moment, just long enough to whisper, “You take it so well. You always do.” Then, he moves to tuck his head against your neck, low growls against your skin as he relentlessly fucks you. “Say you’re mine,” he gasps, his voice strained and breathless as he thrusts into you more forcefully, “say it. Say you belong to me, to be used whenever I need to.”

“I—” you gasp, your words stuck in your throat as the pleasure builds rapidly, dizzying you and pooling low in your stomach with each brutal, precise thrust. Your mind races, your breath coming in short gasps, yet your mouth still manages to open, forming a cry that calls out his name.

He groans, his voice cracking as if it’s being torn from deep within. “God, I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I can’t stop—it feels so good, and you feel so good too.” Despite his apology, he continues, slamming into you as if he’s trying to erase the space between you, like he needs you to absorb the last remnants of his rage and adrenaline that he hadn’t released on stage.

The truth is, you don’t want him to stop. You want to be the one he comes to and uses, you want to be his fucking salvation—even if it’s rough, even if it hurts, because there’s nothing quite like the way he needs you in this very moment.

And God, you need him just as bad.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens  @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @swissy23 @i-love-the-smell-of-your-blood @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades @limerinseme @lilgarbitch @pipidoll @heyyoplayer @limerinseme

[elene78-blog]

Do we all see Jeremy's dual use of sex? It's sad that he uses it to self-harm and punish himself, but it's even sadder how he started using it and continues to use it: desperately seeking affection.

His biological father and mother either ignore their children or use them as bargaining chips to get something, and they don't give them any affection at all. From the way Jeremy keeps his father's last name and expects him to call him his whole life, it's clear there's always been a serious lack of affection on that side. From the way his mother acts the same. This, coupled with the fact that Jeremy is gay in an obviously conservative and homophobic family (we don't know about his father, but being a decorated 45-50-year-old soldier in the US in 2008, I doubt he's very tolerant), we find a completely neglected, affection-starved, and lonely teenage Jeremy, with no one to talk to about his sexual orientation and what he's going through. With siblings with as many problems as he is, and not knowing how to deal with his mother's new marriage to an idiot.

The worst part? Jeremy is a naturally cheerful and friendly person. Loneliness must have taken a huge toll on him.

It's no wonder Jeremy turned to cocaine, given the circumstances, to forget.

And sex? A way to seek the affection and understanding he'd been denied, companionship in the face of loneliness. He desperately needed someone, and unfortunately, he didn't find anyone with emotional support (I think Laila arrived much later). He only found other boys who wanted to experiment, and he, a hormonal teenager with a sexual orientation he couldn't confess to anyone else, wanted to experiment.

Be careful. I'm not saying Jeremy only uses sex for this. Obviously, he enjoyed it back in the day, and I suppose he does now too, but… It's clear that his relationship with sex was cut short, and he began to believe that this was the only way he could get some of the affection he desperately needed. In fact, his trying to get Jean's attention by taking off his shirt and the way he goes about seeking sex with boys supports this. Jeremy only seems capable of attracting the affection he seeks (not friendship, which he's very good at) by giving something in return: sex.

The orgy and cocaine were means of dissociating from a cruel, cold, and loveless reality. Substitutes for what he truly needed.

Affection, caring, understanding.

The support and love of family.

And here everything got worse, and sex became a punishment. Noah died. He came out of the closet by force, under the worst possible circumstances, and was most likely ridiculed, shamed, and humiliated to inhuman limits for this. By the press. By those close to him. As if this weren't traumatic enough, his brother has died, and he can't mourn him because his entire family hates him and blames him for it. He doesn't even have the right to mourn because it was "his fault." He has failed his entire family (the one that has never given him affection) to the extreme.

When he leaves detox, everything gets worse.

Control, control, and control. Distrust. Resentment. Even disgust. The shame continues. And the worst part is that Jeremy believes he's justified. He brought this on himself. He failed them. He failed Noah. He doesn't deserve love or comfort.

But he still needs affection, more than ever, so he sneaks back into sex, but this time… desperately. And the people he has sex with notice, or maybe Jeremy subconsciously seeks out people who notice because he knows they're not good for him, that they can hurt him emotionally and physically, and…

The only thing that sustains Jeremy, probably, is his team and his responsibility as captain. His desire to take care of everyone. The Trojans.

So… We have two sides to Jeremy's relationship with sex.

Searching for affection that never comes (because the men Jeremy seeks also only want sex).

Self-harm (harmful sex with little self-control as a means to feel a modicum of "redemption").

How could he overcome this?La única opción (y el primer paso) sería separarse de su familia, lo cual le causa estrés y le hace sentir que necesita redención. Pero tendría que ser él quien lo hiciera para que sanara de verdad. Jeremy necesita entender que, aunque los ama, lo lastiman y merece respeto. Si sigue aguantando, acabará como Noé porque su familia no quiere redimirlo. No es que no puedan, es que no quieren.

Jeremy needs to have a breakdown like Jean had with Rhemann for this to happen, and understand it.

Understanding this will also extend to his relationship with sex, at least the self-harming part. If he understands that he deserves respect and demands it, he'll eliminate the damaging part of it.

Will this eliminate his toxic relationship with sex? No. Jeremy also needs to understand that he seeks affection through sex, thinking he'll get it that way because no one has ever given him affection without something in return, and this is where the love of his friends and a healthy sexual-emotional relationship can help him.

And, truth be told, Jean is perfect for that.

Jean, who has to rebuild his foundations regarding sex but is also interested in it. Jean, who is affectionately physical (as he's shown by hugging and kissing Cat, braiding Laila's hair, and caring for others) but respects boundaries. Jean, who is kind but calm, tough when he needs to be but also loving and caring.

Jean, who is Jeremy's type because of his looks, but also because Jeremy thought Jean would be cruel when he arrived in California (like all the other guys Jeremy sleeps with), but he's not at all. And he takes care of his people and wants Jeremy to be okay. In fact, Jean recognizes when Jeremy isn't okay.

Jeremy… You'll get better after you get worse (sorry, but you will), and then you'll rebuild. And then you'll rebuild again with Jean, because no, you don't stand a chance against him.

[black-lake]

astro observations 10

Hey -- I miss doing these astro notes, it’s been- years? where have I been? forced into a rat race. I’ve lately been watching a lot of stand up comedies, timeless comedy movies, rush hour, the hangover, you name it, they don’t make shit like this anymore. I’ve also been dealing with saturn transit my 10th house and conjunct my sun fucking up my life. so I got stuff to share.

 ——

⛄︎ Happy capricorn season! I find it ironic that capricorns are hard workers but people don’t work hard in capricorn season, it’s when everybody slows down, enjoys the holidays, reflects and attempts to make new year’s plans. 

Aspects that indicate humor 

☃︎ I said it before and I will say it again, strong mercury-jupiter aspects are the most common in comedians charts, every existing comedian seems to have them conjunct, oppose or square. e.g. Jim Carrey, Kate McKinnon, Kevin Hart (mercury conj jupiter). Chris Tucker, Amy Schumer (mercury square jupiter). Rowan Atkinson, Steve Carell (mercury opp Jupiter).

☃︎ Moon in scorpio or capricorn, top notch dark humor. Chris Tucker, Pete Davidson, Louis C.K. (capricorn moon). Ricky Gervais, Ryan Reynolds, Matthew Perry (scorpio moon). 

☃︎ Moon in gemini or sagittarius, making you laugh at random things, making the small details in life events remarkable and ironic. Sag got that joyful light hearted spirit no matter how sarcastic they get. Bill Burr, John Mulaney (sag moon). Gemini got that chaotic animated twisted humor, can go on endless tangents but you’ll never get bored. Aubrey Plaza, Jim Carrey, and Rowan Atkinson (gemini moon).

☃︎ North node in gemini or sagittarius being a naturally funny storyteller their whole life. I also notice north node in virgo, leo and capricorn in those that pursue public speaking or stand up. 

☃︎ Many comedians or just straight up funny people got MC in gemini, virgo, sagittarius, or leo. 

☃︎ Mercury in aries, leo, gemini, sagittarius, scorpio, capricorn the type of people that tell a basic story but the tone of their voice, choice of words, and the underlying emotion mixed with their perspective and delivery makes it hilarious.

☃︎ Mercury in a fire sign, can be loud, the underlying anger and passion in their voice tone is what makes them funny. Chris Tucker, Kevin Hart and Dave Chappelle all got a leo mercury. Joe List got an aries mercury.

☃︎ Mercury in an air sign, they keep you engaged, animated expressions, great at impressions and mimicking when they tell stories. Trevor Noah is a good example and Jim Carrey (aquarius mercury).

☃︎ Mercury in earth and water, the way they so calmly tell an intense life event story with a straight face and calm demeanor, almost seeming high, a lot of irony and nonchalance. Pete Davidson (scorpio mercury), Ricky Gervais (cancer mercury) and Kate McKinnon (capricorn mercury). 

☃︎ I have mercury conj jupiter in aries and I’m ruled by mercury (gemini rising). I’m super sarcastic and cutthroat when angry, it makes people upset, shocked, amused, wanting to laugh but also butt heads with me. My mind can find irony in literally anything. I also can change my voice and facial expressions easily when I’m mimicking someone. 

☃︎ Those with strong mercury-pluto aspects, the type that could actually give you contractions from laughter. They think intensely, experience life intensely, are cutthroat and skeptical, are super intellectual and deep which is enough to make them ironic in the way they communicate. Their communication style comes across as bold, raw and shocking, saying it how it is, not afraid of joking about taboo or embarrassing stuff. It feels like my life is fucked up my mind is fucked up and I don't give a fuck typa attitude. Matthew Perry, Pete Davidson, Louis C.K, Adam Sandler, Ryan Reynolds, Steve Carell (mercury conj pluto).

☃︎ Heavy pluto and saturn placements can make someone insanely funny especially if they’ve got aspects indicating public speaking. The absolute best at self deprecating humor. They aren’t afraid to share their traumatic experiences, because not only they make people laugh but they give hope to those who can relate. They got where they are by accumulating that much knowledge and wisdom and it came through many wounds usually relating to rejection, abandonment and feeling inadequate. They use humor to heal themselves and others. 

☃︎ Pete Davidson, Ryan Reynolds and Ricky Gervais got heavy scorpio and pluto conjunctions, examples of plutonian humor. Dave Chappelle and Chris Tucker got heavy saturn aspects, examples of saturnian humor.

☃︎ Now Chris Tucker got all the basic comedian placements. He’s easily one of the best and most successful comedians to ever exist. The type to open his mouth and everyone starts laughing. It’s the attitude not even the context. He was the popular kid too, friends with Michael Jackson, Michael Jordan, Muhammad Ali, Jackie Chan, Prince and literally every iconic celebrity in the US. 

☃︎ Chris has a mercury square Jupiter at 0°, leo mercury 28°, capricorn moon, scorpio jupiter, saturn in gemini, jupiter conj neptune (can expand the imagination in storytelling), north node in aquarius (he was a trailblazer in rush hour and many comedians mimic him).

----

☃︎ I noticed so many times that people with saturn in gemini can be socially responsible, meaning that they refuse to cuss in some occasions and refuse to talk shit or go against their morals. Partially due to the lessons they learned on gossip and the consequences of misinformation or twisted narratives. Chris Tucker rejected an offer because he refused to cuss and smoke weed on camera, he also avoids vulgarity and profanity in his stand ups. 

☃︎ Those with gemini north node are either so good at communicating clearly, storytelling and entertaining or will learn that in this lifetime. Same goes for gemini risings. One of their missions is to accumulate knowledge from everywhere they go without the need for distant travel and sharing it with others rather than keeping it confined for abstract contemplations (sag south node). They develop a communication style that is so personal to them that allows them to be a messenger, a bridge between people and a powerful speaker. 

☃︎ I have a leo north node and the more I grow older the more I realize I'm never meant to act so old. This inner child in me screams to come out after every tough cycle esp when I'm mentally trapped in societal conformity. Those with a leo nn exude childlike innocence and purity, at their best spreading love and joy wherever they go. Though to get there they go through challenging experiences alone to build so much strength and confidence so they can pursue what they love and share love so freely since they are so used to being cold and detached (aqua south node). 

☃︎ Those with a cancer north node are naturally so good at business matters like building a company or climbing the success ladder (capricorn south node). They learn quickly that material success alone does not bring them fulfillment. Every time they reach somewhere that feeling of achievement is fleeting and they just want to share those moments with others. They have this urge to connect emotionally to their loved ones and create memories. They might desire having a family of their own, a secure home, and a sense of safety and stability.

I somehow always unintentionally post in december and my posts be considered old next month, so I quit my toxic draining job last week, kinda feels like a life crisis, but I’m feeling so safe and cozy in my bed having my hot mocha eating all the christmas sweets and watching funny shit. so share your fav stand ups, funny movies or documentaries, anything you watch during the holidays. stay warm and cozy 🧣🎅🏼

[insomniac4000]

Injury and Intrigue ChrisMD

I know I have done a Chris charity match fic before but I had the idea and had to do it. Plus with the George fic I am missing writing for my favourite hobbit

The buzz around the Sidemen Charity Match was electric. The stadium was packed, the online viewership was in the millions, and anticipation was sky-high. This year’s YouTube All-Stars team had a new addition: Y/N, a beloved YouTuber making her debut in the match. While fans were excited to see her on the pitch, no one knew that she had been quietly dating ChrisMD for the past three months. Their relationship was a closely guarded secret, known only to their close friends and fellow YouTube footballers..

Chris had played in the charity match every year, his performances always a highlight whether he was playing for Sidemen FC or for the Youtube Allstars and this year he was playing for the latter once more. But this time felt different. He wasn’t just here to play; he was here to support Y/N, who was both nervous and excited. She wasn’t completely hopeless, if she was she wouldn’t have been invited to the charity match but he had secretly been giving her a few pointers here and there.

As the whistle blew and the match kicked off, the energy was palpable. The Sidemen started strong, pressing high and forcing the YouTube All-Stars to defend. In true Simon style he has scored mere minutes into the match. But at the five-minute mark, a perfect through ball from Theo Baker found Y/N making a run past the defenders. She controlled it brilliantly, took one touch to set herself, and then slotted it past Pieface into the bottom corner. The crowd erupted.

Without thinking, Y/N turned and ran straight toward Chris, who was nearby. Chris barely had time to react before she jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and a leg around his waist. He spun her slightly before setting her down, the biggest grin on his face. It was a natural, instinctive moment—one that did not go unnoticed. The commentators chuckled, Stephen made a quip about how touch starved Chris always was  and Twitter exploded with theories, but for now, they were just focused on the game, the fan comments on the live stream however were not going to brush past it easily

"WAIT. Did she just run straight to Chris??"

"That hug was way too natural… something is going on here."

"No way they’re just friends LMAO."

"Chris picked her up so effortlessly—there’s definitely chemistry."

As the match continued, both teams fought hard. By the 60th minute, the score was level at 4-4, tension rising with every passing second. Then came Chris’s moment. A cross from Noah Beck sailed into the box, and Chris rose above the defenders, heading the ball cleanly into the net. The stadium roared as he sprinted to the corner flag, sliding on his knees. Y/N was the first to reach him, her arms wrapping around him in celebration. He held her tightly for just a second longer than necessary, and again, fans took notice.

"Y/N ran straight to him AGAIN?! Nah, there’s something here."

"The way he held her… this is not normal teammate behaviour."

"At this point, they might as well just announce it."

But the joy of the match was short-lived.

In the 72nd minute, it was all square again, both teams were pushing hard for goalds and Y/N and Chris were part of the fight when disaster struck. Y/N received a pass from Will and began dribbling forward when Danny Aarons came in for a tackle. It was mistimed, reckless in true Danny fashion. His studs caught her shin, and a sickening crack echoed through the stadium. Y/N crumpled to the ground, her face contorted in pain, her leg at an odd angle on the ground.

Chris was there in an instant, sprinting to her side before the medics had even started moving. He dropped to his knees, his hands cradling her face as she gasped in pain.

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” he murmured, brushing her auburn curls from her forehead. His heart was pounding, fear gripping him. “You’re going to be okay, Y/N. Just breathe.” By this time other people had joined the pair; Will, George, Harry and Simon were all looking on, Danny in the background his hands on hips looking incredibly guilty.

The medics arrived, but Chris refused to move, holding her hand tightly as they assessed the injury. Y/N’s eyes were glassy with pain, but she managed a weak smile. “Guess my debut didn’t end great.”

Chris let out a breathless chuckle, though his grip on her hand remained firm. “You’re tougher than half the guys on this pitch. We’ll get through this.”

The livestream again took a lot of notice as did social media

"Chris is literally panicking. OMG."

"The way he’s holding her hand... yep, they’re 100% together."

"Bro forgot about football the second she went down."

"Chris brushing her hair back like that? We SEE YOU."

As she was stretchered off, the crowd applauded in support. Most fans were simply worried about Y/N’s injury, but a growing number couldn’t help but notice how Chris had reacted, how devastated he looked, how protective he was. Theories about their relationship started swirling faster than ever.

Back in the tunnel, as Y/N was prepared for transport to the hospital, Chris refused to leave her side. Cameras captured him holding her hand, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she was taken away.

Later that night, Y/N posted a selfie from her hospital bed. Her leg was wrapped in a thick cast, the x-rays here obvious it was a very clean break and she could be in a cast and off her feet for at least six to eight weeks. In the picture her leg was elevated on pillows, and her expression was a mix of exhaustion and relief. The caption read:

"Not exactly how I imagined my charity match debut going... but hey, at least I scored! Thank you for all the kind messages and support. You guys are the best ❤️ #RoadToRecovery"

Fans flooded the comments with love and well wishes, but it didn’t take long for eagle-eyed followers to notice something in the background. Draped over the back of a chair beside her bed was Chris’s jersey, unmistakable with his name and number 10 printed on it.

Fan Reactions:

"Uhhh, is that CHRIS’S SHIRT?!"

"Why is his jersey in her hospital room? 👀"

"HE NEVER LEFT HER SIDE DID HE?!"

"At this point, just announce it already!!"

Twitter exploded again, with screenshots of the jersey circulating rapidly. The speculation, already rampant, reached a fever pitch. Chris and Y/N’s secret was quickly unraveling, and they knew it was only a matter of time before they had to address it.

Chris, still sitting by Y/N’s bed, glanced at his phone and let out a groan. “Well, I think they’ve figured us out.”

Y/N, propped up on pillows, smirked despite the pain. “Guess the secret’s out.”

Chris sighed, rubbing his face before looking at her fondly. “Was fun while it lasted.”

Y/N laughed softly. “At least they figured it out because you’re a massive softie and not because we slipped up.”

Chris rolled his eyes but squeezed her hand. “Guess we should get ready to tell the world.”

Y/N squeezed back. “After I get some painkillers first.”

Chris chuckled. “Deal.”

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Four - Encore

You are rehearsing at the piano when the manager comes over eagerly. He's waving something around in his hand. You choose to keep your focus on your piano, flooding the empty theater with beautiful music. 

Amelie was sitting close by listening to you, but when Jack came in, he focus shifted to him.

Jack stops abruptly next to you waving an envelope in your face. You stop playing to look at it and then look up at him. “What is it?”

“A donation!” He exclaims.

“A donation?” Amelie asks.

Jack nods. “From your sponsor. He wrote a letter stating he will make a donation to the theater as long as you keep performing here.”

You look at the envelope with curiosity. “He did?”

Jack nods again. “Yes. Isn't this wonderful? Our little theater could thrive with such a wealthy man behind it. You, my dear, are a gift.”

A gift.

That's what Lestat had said he had given you. A gift from him. He was going to make sure you could play your music freely without concern of others. Simply because he enjoyed your music.

“How generous of him,” Amelie comments.

“Yes. Very,” you say softly. The very idea of having Lestat looking out for you made your heart race. It was strange how much of an affect one man could have over you over something as simple as music.

“My dear, this is a blessing. Never give up on your music.” Jack beams down at you. His words would be flattering if they had been from someone else.

Jack leaves you alone at your piano. Amelie moves to sit next to you on the bench. “This Lestat… are you two…?” She probes.

“No!” You reply quickly. “Nothing like that.”

Amelie chuckles and presses a couple of keys on the piano. She makes a small little tune and then sighs. “I wish someone would sponsor me for my dancing.”

“Someone should! You're a natural dancer. It's in your blood,” you smile. Amelie looks pleased with your compliments.

“I still think it's romantic. A handsome stranger supporting you for your talent.” She plucks at hwr skirt mindlessy.

“Romantic… It's not like that. He just appreciates good music.”

Amelie rolls her eyes at you, but she doesn't say anything. Still, you can tell what she's thinking just by the expression on her face. However, you don't say anything either.

As you're leaving the theater later they evening, you are cornered by Noah who had been lingering about outside the back door. You could already tell he had been waiting for you because as soon as you come outside he's right beside you.

“So, your sponsor is sending donations to the theater. How nice of him,” Noah says dryly. “You know, you should reconsider our duet.”

“I don't think so,” you say.

“Listen, we could be good together. My voice, your music. It could be magic.” He grins, but it's not a friendly grin.

“Noah, for the last time, no.”

He stops you from walking by grabbing at your elbow. It's not tight enough you can't shake him off, but it's forceful enough to get you to stop.

“I don't like being told no.”

You glare at him. “Well, there's a first time for everything. No.”

“You're making a big mistake,” he tells you.

“I don't think so. If you try a stunt like the other night again, I will have you removed from the theater. Jack can't afford to lose me.”

Noah laughs. “Oh, the kitten has claws.”

You yank your arm away from him. “I have more than claws.”

You storm off onto the street and make your way home. Noah is left in the alley watching you walk away. Anger burns through his body.

As you reach your apartment you're surprised to find Lestat waiting for you outside. You slow down as he approaches you. There's an expression in his eyes that makes you feel like he's reading you.

“What happened, Chéri?”

All tension leaves your body as soon as he's beside you. For whatever reason being around Lestat makes you calm.

“Just Noah riling me up again,” you sigh.

“What did the fool want now?” Lestat asks, a bite to his tone.

“Your donation to the theater has stirred everyone up. I think Noah is jealous he isn't getting any attention.”

“He's a terrible singer anyway.”

You laugh. Lestat's face lights up at the sound. Your laugh was perhaps his favourite sound. Your music coming second.

“Do not let the petty people stand in the way of your music. Your talent is far more precious than anything he could ever say.” Lestat reaches out and caresses your chin gently with his finger. His nail is sharp, but merely tickles your skin.

“I am lucky to have found you,” you say, looking at him with gentle eyes.

“It is I who found you. I am the lucky one,” he smiles.

There's a moment where you can't bring yourself to look away from him. The temptation to step closer and reach out was great, but it is Lestat who breaks the spell and steps away from you. He moves out of reach, the distance seeming too far for your liking. You don't dare move though.

“Get some rest. I shall see you on Friday.”

You don't even get a chance to ask why he was waiting for you outside your apartment. Lestat leaves quickly, gone in the blink of an eye. You don't even question it. You're too occupied thinking about his eyes.

Friday comes around and you're fixing your hair up for your performance. Amelie had left your side moments ago to prepare for her performance. She had been working on a new routine which she was really proud of.

You look up at the sound of knocking on your door and call for them to enter. It's Noah. You feel yourself sigh internally. He leans agaiant your doorframe allowing you to get a good look at his suit. He obviously thinks he looks amazing, but all you can think about it how the colour is wrong for his complexion and that it looks too tight in some places.

“What do you want?” You ask.

“I am here to tell you that tonight is going to be our night. I can feel it.” He grins wide.

“What do you mean?”

“Tonight we will become stars!”

You do not like his behaviour. There's something very wrong with him. You can feel it.

“What are you getting at?” You ask him slowly, calmly.

Noah winks at you. You instantly feel sick.

“Wait and see, darling. Me and you, we're going shine.”

Noah leaves, your door closing behind him. You're left sitting there wondering what all that was about. What is he going to do? What has he done?

You feel uncomfortable.

You watch Amelie come off stage after her performance. She was amazing. Her new routine was exciting and thrilling. She had been working hard on the story telling aspect of her routines and it had really paid off. Amelie hugged you as she exited the stage and then watched you go on after your piano had been set up.

Applause filled the room as you walked across the stage. You ignored it. The only thing you paid attention to was the handsome blond man in his box.

He smiled at you.

You smiled back.

You take your seat at the piano bench and take a deep breath. The only thought running through your head was your hope of Lestat enjoying your music once again. 

You begin to play. Music fills the room. The audience fall quiet as you let your magic work. They hang onto every note and feel themselves drift away to wherever your music takes them.

In his box, Lestat leans forward slightly. his eyes are focused on you. Your music touches his heart. Hearing you play the way you did was a blessing to him.

He closed his eyes just for a moment. Your melody sunk into his bones. He could almost feel every note pass through him. You had him hook, line, and sinker.

Then the magic broke.

Noah's voice cut through the air. Lestat opened his eyes to see the insulting man standing amongst the aisle of seats belting out his song. Lestat clutched the balcony in anger.

Did this fool not understand?

He could still hear your piano, but with one look at you he knew you wanted nothing more than to get up and leave.

Do it.

You swore you heard a voice just now.

Leave.

Your eyes shift up to where Lestat was sitting. He was looking at you.

Don't play for this fool.

Noah could see Lestat looking at you. He decided to sing a little bit louder. Lestat did not turn his gaze away from you.

The music stopped.

You would not play for Noah. You refused. That voice agreed. You got up from your piano and fled from the stage. You ran all the way down to your dressing room to hide.

Lestat turned to Noah who was still signing for a very confused audience. Lestat had had enough. He got up and fled from his box.

Noah stopped singing and took a dramatic bow. The audience didn't know if they should clap or not, so only a few gave a slow applause.

Noah took his leave.

You slumped down at your dressing table, head in your arms. What even happened? You were playing your music. Noah came to ruin it once again.

That voice.

It sounded like Lestat was in your head. But how can that be?

Your dressing room door swings open and Noah storms in. You're startled by his sudden entrance. He is quick to pull you into his arms and dance around the room with you. You're able to push him off you, putting some distance between you and him.

“What is wrong with you?” You ask angrily.

“Nothing is wrong with me. I just want the most talented pianist in New Orleans to play while I sing. Is that a crime?” 

“Well, this pianist doesn't want to play for you!” You yell.

“You have a sponsor and everything!” Noah waves his hands around frantically. “It's not fair! I have been singing for the last 10 years of my life! I have a great voice. Why shouldn't the two most talented people here join as one and make magic together?!”

“You're scaring me…”

He circles around the room, blocking off your exit.

“I'm scaring you?” He laughs. “That's rich. Do you know who you should be afraid of? Your sponsor. That man isn't right… There's something weird about him.”

“Please leave,” you beg of him.

He doesn't go.

Noah takes a few steps closer to you. “Let me look after you. Let me be the angel who sings to your melody. We can leave this crappy town and make the world our stage. You're far too good for a place like this.” 

“Noah, I won't ask again.” You back up as much as you can, but you're out of space.

Before Noah can get too close he's pulled back violently from you. You can only gasp in shock at the sight of him on the ground. Lestat stands over him seething with anger.

“Lestat?” You call softly.

He doesn't look at you. He stares down at Noah like a predator looking at it's prey. You're afraid.

“This pathetic little man thinks he owns the stage, but he is wrong. When you play your music the stage belongs to you. No other. I do not take kindly to those who interfere.” Lestat pulls Noah up by the lapels of his jacket and holds him upright. Noah stuggles agaiant him, but to no avail.

“What are you going to do to me?” Noah asks, freaking out.

“Teach you a lesson.”

In the blink of an eye Lestat is gone. As is Noah. You startled by what you had just witnessed. However, the panic sets in and the need to find them takes over. You run as fast as your legs will carry you.

You're not entirely sure where Lestat has taken Noah, but you take a guess by going to his house. It’s the only place you can think of. Judging by the sounds from inside, you were right. You open the gates and hurry inside.

“Get off me!” You hear Noah yell.

You enter the house in a hurry. “Lestat?”

“Don't come any closer, chéri.” You hear him call from inside the house.

“Lestat, what are you doing? Where's Noah?”

“Help me!” Noah cries out.

“You care about this pathetic creature?” Lestat asks.

“Not really, but I don't want anyone to get hurt…” You call out.

“I will not stand for him ruining you.”

You feel a tug at your heart. There is something in Lestat's voice that had you feeling deeply. He sounded angry but also sad.

“What are you going to do?” You ask.

A moment of silence fills the house. All you can hear is Noah whimpering in the next room.

“I'm going to rid us of this vermin.”

“Lestat?”

In the next moment all you can hear is a chocking sound and then a thud. You can't hear Noah calling for help any more. You decide to face the music and make your way into the next room.

What you saw, you did not ever expect to see.

Noah was propped up on the couch and Lestat was next to him, latched onto his neck. You screamed and covered your mouth as you took in the sight.

Lestat looked up at you. Blood stained his lips, his eyes were wide, but he remained cool and collected.

You ran.

It’s all you could think to do. You ran right out of there and down the street. People turned to look but you didn't care. You needed to get away from that place. Home was the only place you could go. You wouldn't be able to face anyone at the theater.

Noah is dead.

You saw it with your own eyes. Lestat killed him and… and…

No, you had to have hallucinated that last part. Your mind was playing tricks on you.

Vampires weren't real.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

[morallyambiguousfrog]

I finished the raven cycle and I have SO MANY THOUGHTS

this series has the best portrayal of platonic love I've ever seen, the relationships between all the characters felt so natural and incredibly well written. none of the transitions to romantic relationships felt forced because it seemed so obvious "of course they love eachother, EVERYONE loves EVERYONE"

So obviously my love for all of these characters is unmatched but I would commit unspeakable crimes for blue sargent

Piper as an antagonist???? amazing beautiful perfect. her being manipulated by the demon was so cool to see, her transition from being green mantles wife with a semi normal life to "yo dad wassup just murdered my husband and found a new pet *holds up demon* isn't it cute?"

Noah my poor baby boi

stavinsky may have been a horrible person but he was a super interesting character

Chainsaw is the bestest bird to ever bird

gansey and blues relationship and adam and ronans relationship were both amazing and sweet and perfect

obsessed with opal as a short story, Adam and Ronan get to have these super sweet and sad moments in the background meanwhile opal's telling the real important story: her dangerous quest to drink windshield wiper fluid and honestly I'm here for it

i will give a small bit of criticism: the pacing did feel a little bit rushed in some places and there was some jumping around that didn't make a ton of sense

BUT IM IGNORING THAT BECAUSE SEARCHING FOR A LONG DEAD WELSH KING IS SUCH AN AWESOME STORY CONCEPT

Henry Cheng: amazing 10/10 no criticism I just love him

there were some points where I was ready to crawl through the pages and fight adam's father myself

and finally a fandom note: just learned that the main ship names are bluesey and pynch and that is so amazing I love that so much

[familiarscars]

Drive You Insane | Noah Sebastian 07

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Noah Sebastian X psychiatrist!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. A mysterious new patient arrives at the Grimshade sanatorium and you have been tasked with taking care of his case.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). disturbing environment, violence, unconventional treatments, manipulation, questionable relationships, explicit sex and profanity.

I really need your reblog! On Tumblr, the content reaches more views and is delivered more through reblog and I really wanted more people to be able to read what I write. I'm counting on you from now on, ok?

Your body was there, submerged in the warm water of the bathtub, but your mind floated far away, drifting between scattered thoughts. With your eyes closed, you forced yourself to empty your mind, to escape, even if only for a few seconds.

Any daydream seemed more appealing than reality.

Your fingers glided over the water’s surface, tracing invisible paths. Deep in your subconscious, you saw yourself immersed in a river of crystalline waters, the thin fabric of your nightgown clinging to your skin as the current wrapped around your body.

It was too comfortable. Almost natural.

Above you, a gray sky stretched endlessly—no sun, no horizon. A dense mist spread like a veil, punishing anyone who dared to see beyond. Bare trees raised twisted branches around you, and between them, flocks of black birds tore through the sky, forming a noisy procession, coming and going like omens.

Every stroke, aimless, subtly altered the reality around you, but you only noticed when the clear water began to darken. The turquoise deepened into navy blue, and then, in a matter of seconds, turned into an opaque, bottomless black.

Your brows furrowed, eyes narrowing as you tried to determine if it was just a trick of your mind. But no—the river was black.

Black like the birds that cut through the sky above you.

And then, the silence shattered.

The birds’ caws morphed into an agonizing screech, like metal being dragged across a rough surface. The sound pierced your ears like splinters, making your skin prickle, your chest tighten, and your brain compress as if caught between crushing hands.

And that was enough to pull you back.

Your body jolted awake, lungs sucking in air as if you had just emerged from drowning, a dry sound tearing from your throat, your eyes flying open with the flood of dream images still spinning in your mind.

Still struggling to catch your breath, your eyes gradually returned to normal, and your shoulders relaxed. Strands of hair still clung to your face, and you ran your fingers through them, pushing them back.

That’s when you noticed something unusual.

Small pink droplets slid slowly from your damp strands, trickling down your skin, tracing a path until they reached your thighs.

The water was no longer warm.

No longer clear.

The liquid surrounding you was dense, viscous, and dyed a deep red—a crimson so intense it seemed to glow under the dim bathroom light. Your arms floated on the ruby surface, your hands coated in the thick substance, slow carmine serpents slithering down your skin. A metallic scent filled your nostrils, heavy, nauseating, as if you were breathing in horror itself.

Your heartbeat pounded against your temples. Your chest rose and fell in growing panic.

And then, the fear erupted.

A wild, piercing scream tore from your throat, filling the bathroom and crashing against the cold walls, reverberating as if the room itself echoed your terror.

You lunged out of the bathtub in a desperate impulse, but your damp feet betrayed your haste. Your body slipped on the drenched floor, sliding along with the pinkish water spreading across the cold tiles.

Every movement was a battle against your own fear. Your body, weighed down by terror, seemed to drag itself forward, as if struggling to escape something unseen—something still lingering in the air, suffocating and real. Your knees and elbows scraped against the uneven ceramic, stinging from the impact, but the pain was drowned out by the panic pounding in your chest.

You crawled toward the wall beside the door, fingers trembling as you pushed your wet hair from your face. You took a deep breath before finally lifting your gaze, bracing yourself for the horrifying sight you expected to find.

But the shock silenced you once more.

The terror from seconds ago… had vanished.

The water scattered across the floor was crystal clear, odorless, with no trace of blood. Your damp skin bore no crimson stains, no sign that any of it had been real.

Your heart pounded so violently it felt like it was echoing through the walls. With unsteady steps, you crossed the room, nearly slipping on the smooth tiles, and stopped in front of the bathtub.

The floor reflected the dim bathroom light.

The remaining water was perfectly clear.

You let out a heavy sigh, rolling your shoulders back as if you could shake off the tension while combing your hair in front of the mirror.

"Never sleeping in the bathtub again… noted."

Your own voice sounded like a whisper in the vast silence of the room, a weak effort to bring rationality to what had just happened.

If your mother were here, she would certainly blame the nightmares and distorted visions on your habit of reading too many case files about murders before bed. Maybe she was right. But let’s be honest—no amount of reading could create something more disturbing than Grimshade itself. Staring at any corner of that hospital for too long was enough to leave invisible scars, to imprint the mind with images that were hard to forget.

And now, even your dreams were being contaminated.

"You're already in the worst of hells. This place is cursed—it will drain your mind, blur the line between real and illusion… You'll go insane on your own, just by being here. If you love playing detective so much, why have you never read about the legend of Grimshade?"

Noah’s voice echoed in your head, so vividly it felt like he was right behind you.

Your body tensed.

Then, you forced a smile. Small. Artificial.

You shook your head, pushing away the confusion as if it were just another intrusive thought. You knew the psychological effects a psychiatric hospital could have, even on the most lucid minds. It was a dense, heavy environment. But you were prepared. You never got involved in your cases more than necessary. They had no power to consume you.

You were not Grimshade.

And Grimshade would never be you.

In the hallways, you maintained a flawless appearance.

Polite smiles for your colleagues, a cordial nod to a few patients. Everything as expected. Everything under control.

On the clock, the hands were nearing 9 AM, and according to your schedule, you were about to face your first session of the day.

Noah.

Stopping in front of the door, you took a deep breath. You had spent the entire night tossing and turning, racking your brain for the simplest solution to your ongoing problem with him.

The aggressive approach didn’t work—he was as skittish as a stray cat. Challenging him wasn’t the best choice either; Noah always retaliated with equal recklessness, and you knew stepping into that game would be dangerous.

Only one option remained.

When he entered the room, cuffed, head down, his tattooed arms exposed beneath the white tank top, the guard showed no concern in shoving him into the chair. The impact didn’t seem to bother him. Only then did he slowly lift his head, dark strands falling over his eyes before he flicked them away with a subtle tilt of his head.

Expressionless.

Noah was unpredictable.

You never knew what to expect. If today he would ignore you like a religious pamphlet, threaten you like a gang member, or toy with the loose threads of your mind in a dangerous game of intimidation and seduction.

Without looking away, you gave a small nod to the guard, who obeyed the order and left the room.

Now, it was just the two of you.

Noah exhaled silently, relaxing his shoulders and sinking slightly deeper into the chair, his posture finally loosening.

Yet, he still remained silent.

"I don’t need much to tell you’re not happy to see me…" You started, spinning the pen between your fingers, breaking the silence with a controlled tone.

Noah only shrugged, his expression locked behind an icy wall.

You knew he would choose distance.

Visibly unsettled, you shifted in your chair, clenching your fists on the desk, your eyes now fixed in a silent warning.

"Despite your resistance, I will continue to be your psychiatrist, Noah," you said, your voice firm and incisive. "As long as you are a patient in this sanatorium and as long as I am employed here, you'll have to deal with that."

He didn’t react, yet his eyes followed your every movement.

"Unfortunately, I can't grant your wish to be left alone in your cell. I took an oath at my graduation never to deny treatment to a patient, and the sanatorium's policy requires that, unless a patient is in an inaccessible condition, they must have mandatory weekly sessions."

Despite his outward disinterest, there was something in his eyes that said otherwise—he was paying attention.

"But to improve our time together during these sessions, I have an offer to make."

You saw his eyebrow slowly lift, as if questioning where you were going with this.

"If you cooperate and engage in conversation, I won’t discuss your case anymore, much less use you as an interrogation subject. You’ll only say what you feel like saying."

There was something almost triumphant about the way he adjusted his posture, leaning slightly closer to the desk, his movements subtle. And then, with a gesture as small as it was dangerous, Noah’s index finger slid over a strand of your hair.

It was sickening. Terrible. Twisted.

A psychiatrist should never allow any kind of intimate contact with a patient—especially not a patient like Noah. But when he did it, when his eyes locked onto yours, it was as if you were trapped in a hypnotic spiral. Difficult to escape.

"I can accept your idea, doctor…" he said, his voice smooth as silk, while the strand of hair slid down to his nose, where he inhaled deeply. "But I choose the topic of our conversations."

"Agreed." You nodded, your tone decisive, trying to maintain composure while he kept watching you so intently. "What’s the topic of today’s session?"

"You."

"Me?"

"I'm genuinely curious to know more about you…" His voice floated through the air, soft, almost like a melody, while his gaze studied every part of your figure.

Noah had a commanding presence, as if every word he spoke carried a dangerous magnetism. That tone—seductive and razor-sharp—made your skin prickle, a sensation of discomfort mixed with something else you didn’t want to name, but it was there, pulsing, contaminating you in a disturbing way.

"What do you want to know?" you asked, trying to keep your composure, your voice lower and more controlled, as if you were trying to conceal the internal turmoil rising within you.

He released the strand of hair with a deliberate slowness, letting it fall beside your face, then leaned back into the chair with calculated ease, his cuffed wrists resting on his thighs. He looked comfortable, in control.

"Are you from here?" he asked, propping his chin on his hands, his gaze focused. "Are you from Blackridge?"

"N-no… I moved here after passing the selection process." Your response came out a bit faster than you expected. "I’m from Death Sea, a small town in northern Thorneveil."

"I thought Thorneveil was already a corpse," he mocked.

He wasn’t entirely wrong to be surprised. Your town was practically in an apocalyptic state. The workers’ strike had made resources scarce, and those with money had drained every organic source of income, leaving the unprepared in a desperate situation. Anyone without financial reserves was abandoned, forced to fight for every crumb.

Luckily, your parents had savings. They had always worked hard as public employees, which kept them stable amidst the chaos. Growing up in a comfortable life, with the financial security they could provide, almost felt like a privilege in those circumstances.

"Why did you choose to come here? You seem young, recently graduated, maybe… You could’ve found a job somewhere better."

You shrugged, a weak chuckle escaping.

"There wasn’t a better job, Noah… After I graduated, I needed to start paying off the student loans I took during college. I didn’t want to ask my parents for help; they had already done enough. So I started applying for every job I could find and took the first yes I got."

Noah tilted his head slightly, his eyes fixed on you.

"Have they visited you yet?"

"Not yet. My father isn't well enough to handle a trip like this, and my mother…" You let out a brief laugh. "Let’s just say she’d have a meltdown just from seeing this place. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to share a cell with a woman obsessed with cleanliness and a constant scent of eucalyptus in her nose."

A different gleam crossed Noah’s gaze, and for a moment, you almost believed you saw a genuine smile forming at the corner of his lips.

"Are they your only family?"

"Yes. I'm not one to have many friends, and the few I do have... I think I've been out of touch for so long they must have forgotten me."

He tilted his head slightly. "And a boyfriend?"

"I don’t have one."

"But you had one." His chin subtly pointed toward your hand, specifically at the faint, pale mark on your ring finger. "Where is he now?"

"Our relationship started in college. He decided to pursue his career elsewhere, and I chose not to go with him."

"Why?"

"Because that was his dream, not mine." Your response came firm, without the intention of sounding harsh, but it certainly did. "He had a guaranteed job, friends, a home waiting for him. If I had gone, I would have been giving up everything to live in the shadow of his plans, relying on a country that wasn’t mine, far from my family. He had people to turn to if he failed, and me? I would have had to rebuild myself from scratch. It wasn’t fair."

"So you stayed out of fear."

"I stayed because I knew exactly what I wanted for my life. I had my own goals, and I wasn’t going to shape them to fit his."

Noah analyzed every word, as if savoring the answer.

"And did he accept that?"

"No. He said my worldview was small for choosing to stay in a safe place rather than taking a risk out there."

Noah fell silent for a moment.

"But you don’t seem regretful."

"Because I’m not." You held his gaze. "I did what I had to do."

He nodded slowly, sinking you both into a momentary silence. Time in the room was running out, and you knew you couldn't waste this opportunity.

"So, how about we make our agreement fairer for both of us?" Your voice cut through the silence, drawing his attention back to you. "Our sessions can follow whatever topics you choose, but at the end of each one, I get the right to ask a single question. A question about your life, just like you did with me."

Noah raised an eyebrow but didn’t show any irritation.

"I’m not going to open up to you like this is some normal therapy session on a random Wednesday."

"That’s fine," you countered, keeping your voice deliberately soft. "I just need you to answer with a simple yes or no."

For some reason, he hesitated. His jaw tightened slightly, and for a brief moment, you noticed a trace of discomfort in his posture. That was a victory.

"Okay. Ask."

You took a deep breath, mentally filtering through the flood of questions you could ask. Caution was necessary. The chance of getting anything was slim, and wasting it on the wrong question would be unforgivable.

"Did you and Rachel have a happy relationship?"

The change was immediate. Noah absorbed your words as if he had been pulled into a deep, dark abyss. His gaze, once sharp and focused, turned hazy, lost in a sea of thoughts that dragged him far away from the room.

The line of his jaw tensed. His expression hardened.

"No." The word came out low, almost inaudible.

Before you could react, the door opened, and one of the guards entered to escort him back. Noah didn’t look back, didn’t offer a final glance or expression. He simply stood up and followed the guard, allowing himself to be taken away.

But that didn’t matter.

You would see him again soon.

And you already knew what your next question would be.

Your theory was solidifying with more force with each new piece of this puzzle. Noah’s version and the one told at the fraternity not only diverged, but seemed to belong to completely different stories. He and Rachel definitely had a troubled relationship. Enough to motivate a murder? Maybe. But even homicidal impulses, even in psychopathic minds, usually require a trigger—something that unlocks something deep, primal.

So what, after all, could his have been?

If Noah was really like they described him in the fraternity, someone charismatic, engaging, and with a dominant nature, it would be hard to picture him as an impulsive killer. Someone like him—if guilty—would have planned it, made sure each piece was in place before acting.

This story still had a missing gap.

If Noah truly fit the profile of an abulic psychopath, that type of personality wasn’t driven solely by internal impulses, but also by the influence of the environment, peer pressure, and the surroundings. He could have committed the crime not out of a genuine desire to kill, but because he was led to it—persuaded, pressured, or manipulated in some way.

If that was the case, then he wasn’t alone.

This would open two equally disturbing possibilities: someone instigated him to commit the murder, or he was just a piece in something larger, perhaps even a scapegoat.

But who would have that power over Noah? And why?

If he were as impressionable as the diagnosis suggested, then the real threat might not be in his cell… but out there.

Noah didn’t fit the mold.

You squinted and massaged your temples, trying to dissipate the fog of frustration clouding your thoughts. Nothing made sense.

A typical psychopath would take pride in their superiority, sharp intelligence, and control over their own narrative. They didn’t bow to fate, they didn’t accept being swallowed by the system without at least an attempt to resist. But Noah? He was simply there. Indifferent. Either he was different from what they imagined, or there was something more—something he didn’t want to, or couldn’t, reveal.

You stacked the papers, trying to ignore the throbbing in your head. Your diagnosis was incomplete. And worse, the missing piece in this equation might be the very key to understanding whether Noah was a murderer or just a man swallowed by something far darker.

Tying your hair up into a high bun, you left the room in search of some air. The sanatorium continued in its chaotic rhythm—patients flailing, sharp screams echoing through the halls as nurses tried to contain them. You crossed the long hallway, lit by the large glass windows revealing the outside area.

Your mind, whenever it remembered the files, couldn’t help but circle around a thought that, ironically, bordered on the comical—although there was nothing funny about it. If Noah really had a diagnosable mental condition, like abulic psychopathy, why would anyone need to forge a report?

Unless…

Unless his true diagnosis wasn’t convincing enough to keep him out of prison. Maybe he needed something more “palatable” to guarantee his internment there. After all, that place didn’t operate solely on science and medicine—in Blackridge, traditionalism still reigned over reason. Not everything was accepted so easily.

On the third floor of the sanatorium was the archive room, where the files of all the patients who had passed through Grimshade were stored. Ideally, as in any storeroom, there should have been someone responsible for organizing and maintaining the space, but it came as no surprise to find it completely empty and abandoned.

Hundreds of folders scattered amid piles of disordered papers, a thick layer of dust covering everything, making your nose itch in an irritating way. While avoiding the old files, identifiable by the yellowed texture of the paper, you moved firmly through the room, between high shelves with built-in drawers. Through the window, the late afternoon painted the sky in dark hues, a sign that night would fall soon. Anticipating that, you switched on the light—but nothing happened. You tried again. And again. The lights stayed off.

Swallowing hard, you knew you needed to be quick. Find the file and get out before the darkness made the search impossible.

Following the alphabetical order, your fingers slid along the shelf until they reached the letter N. You scanned the names one by one until you reached Noah’s—well, where it should have been. The empty space before your eyes made your stomach twist.

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you tapped the side of the shelf.

“Hell!” you muttered, running your fingers across your forehead.

That question was eating away at your sanity, it was undeniable. Your thoughts revolved around a single point: Noah. The case. The gaps that insisted on remaining open. How to turn the game around? How to find the truth? Obsession took over you in an almost irrational way, as if it were your responsibility to prove something, as if the guilt were yours. In the end, you wanted Noah’s innocence more than he did himself.

“Who the hell would have an interest in stealing this?” you wondered, chewing on your index fingernail.

You took a deep breath, trying to control your irritation, but then a flash of an idea crossed your mind.

The newly registered files? Those would be on the first shelves.

With renewed urgency, your fingers slid back across the files. You searched through each folder, reviewed the names once, twice, sixteen times. Frustration climbed with each passing second, and the sense of urgency made your chest race. Sweat gathered on your temples, and your breathing grew irregular.

Then, a file fell to the ground.

For a moment, you held your breath.

Please.

You bent down, pushing the strands of hair sticking to your forehead aside, and picked up the paper with trembling hands.

It wasn’t Noah.

It was Elias Faulkner.

Driven by curiosity and the lack of success in your last search, you decided to open the file.

GRIMSHADE PSYCHIATRIC INSTITUTE MEDICAL FILE – RESTRICTED ARCHIVE

Name: Dr. Elias Faulkner Admission Date: March 14, 2023 Dismissal Date: December 21, 2023 Reason for Dismissal: Severe cognitive decline, acute psychotic episode. Last Clinical Note: Intermittent catatonic state.

PROFESSIONAL HISTORY

Dr. Elias Faulkner joined Grimshade as a clinical psychiatrist specializing in dissociative disorders. Known for his rigorous and investigative approach, he showed particular interest in cases of patients presenting symptoms of amnesia and psychopathy. In the early months, Faulkner requested access to the historical files of the sanatorium, seeking patterns between the old patients and the more recent ones. He became particularly obsessed with a group of records with no clear identification—sealed documents that only mentioned “Inominable Patients.”

PSYCHOLOGICAL DECLINE Early Symptoms (May 2023)

- Reports of severe insomnia and recurring nightmares. - Comments about the feeling of being watched inside the facilities, even in isolated areas. - Episodes of spatial disorientation within the sanatorium, claiming hallways seemed to shift places.

Critical Phase (August 2023)

- Reports from colleagues indicate that Faulkner began to avoid mirrors and reflective surfaces. - He was found in a state of shock after an episode where he claimed to have seen himself inside an empty cell. - Notes in his personal diary revealed repeated phrases such as: “The reflection watches me, but it’s not me.” “They’re inside me. How many of me are there?”

Collapse and Dismissal (December 2023)

- During a meeting with the team, Dr. Faulkner entered an extreme dissociative state, unable to recognize colleagues or himself. - He was found wandering the halls muttering in a neutral tone: “Elias Faulkner. That name doesn’t belong to me.” - Transferred to an isolation ward, where he spent the following days in a semi-catatonic state, refusing to speak or respond to external stimuli.

Your eyes widened, and in a near-involuntary reflex, you dropped the file onto the nearest wooden surface you found. The shock coursed through your body like an electric shock, your legs froze, refusing to obey. Your mind spun as it processed what you had just read.

Dr. Faulkner.

The name burned in your consciousness. He was the doctor Noah had mentioned in group therapy.

“You’re already in the worst of hell. This place is cursed, it will drain your mind, blur the line between the real and the illusory… You’ll go crazy just for being here. If you love playing detective so much, why haven’t you read about the Grimshade legend?”

Noah’s voice echoed in your mind, pulling you from your trance. Your gaze shot to the windows—there was no more daylight. The stuffy room was now immersed in darkness, and a cold shiver ran down your spine.

Your body reacted before your mind could formulate a plan. With nerves on edge, you ran to the door and grabbed the doorknob tightly. Pulled. Pushed. Nothing.

Despair settled in the instant you realized the door was stuck. A hoarse scream tore through your throat, echoing in the emptiness of the archive room.

⭑ @bloody-spades ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline​ ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @do-it-jakey-baby ; @flowery-mess ; @youcanreadmy-mind ; @tikosblogg ; @gothic-pumpkin ;

[misspygmypie]

Neighbor Wars: Lando vs. Jake

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 1710 Request: Anon 1: Could you please write something where Land gets jealous like a new neighbor has been spending a lot of time wit reader and Noah. But he moves to a house to get away from it. (Maybe it was time to move and he sort of wants to be petty). Anon 2: I love Noah and Lando but could we please get some more of Lando and reader. Maybe while Lando is away reader calls a handyman to help fix things and he plays with Noah and when Lando gets home he gets jealous at him flirting with his wife and playing with his kids. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando was in the process of enduring an exhausting triple-header, racing through three back-to-back Grand Prix events across Europe. The schedule had been relentless, leaving him barely any time to check in with his family. When he finally managed to catch up, he was met with something he hadn’t quite expected: a rising wave of jealousy.

Their new neighbor, Jake, had moved into the adjacent unit just before Lando’s racing marathon had begun. From his sparse updates Lando had seen that Y/N and Noah had been spending a lot of time with Jake who, as a single father with an easygoing nature, had quickly become popular with the building’s residents.

One evening Lando scrolled through social media from his hotel room and he came across a post showing Jake, Y/N and Noah having a picnic in the communal garden. Next to them was baby Maebry, the Norris family’s newest addition. Some other pictures showed Jake playing soccer with Noah and even building some Legos. The sight of Y/N and Noah’s happy faces with Jake comfortably nestled among them sparked an unexpected amount of jealousy in Lando. It was as if Jake had become an honorary member of the family while Lando was just a spectator.

He chuckled bitterly to himself. Well, look at that. Jake’s living the dream, playing happy family while I’m here, stuck in a never-ending cycle of jet lag.

When Lando finally returned home he was eager to reunite with his family but his excitement was quickly overshadowed by the sight of Jake helping Y/N with a pile of laundry in the common area. As Lando approached he forced a warm smile that felt more like a grimace. “Hey, Jake,” he said, his voice clearly annoyed. “Good to see you again. Thanks for, uh, doing the laundry.”

Jake looked up with a friendly grin, his demeanor as smooth as ever. “Hey, Lando! No problem, just helping out. Y/N was a bit overwhelmed with the baby’s stuff, so I thought I’d lend a hand.”

Lando nodded, trying to keep his thoughts from spilling out of his mouth. Of course you did. Because who wouldn’t want to be the hero of the laundry room?

One afternoon the sink in the Norris family’s apartment began to leak. Y/N was flustered, juggling baby Maebry and Noah’s endless stream of questions about superheroes. As Lando was in the middle of a several hour long conference call with his team but after a quick call from Y/N Jake showed up at the door with a toolbox and a grin.

“Looks like you’ve got a bit of a plumbing emergency,” Jake said, his eyes sparkling with a mix of confidence and charm. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I’m basically a part-time plumber, part-time superhero.”

Y/N looked relieved and grateful. “Thank you, Jake. I was about to call a professional but with everything going on, I didn’t know where to start.”

“Well, if you ever need a plumber who doubles as a handyman and a personal charm specialist, you know where to find me,” Jake winked as he rolled up his sleeves.

Lando, who had heard his neighbors voice and instantly decided to end the call early, watched from the doorway, irritation simmering as he saw Jake confidently take charge. Ah, so now Jake’s the neighborhood hero with a toolbox. Does he have a signature catchphrase too? “Plumbing problems? Jake to the rescue!”

As Jake worked on the sink he chatted with Y/N, occasionally tossing flirtatious comments over his shoulder. “You know, Y/N, I think your sink is as stubborn as I am when it comes to giving up. But don’t worry, I’m pretty good at convincing things to go my way.”

Y/N chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, I’m glad you’re so determined. We’d be lost without you.”

Jake looked up with a smile that was anything but casual. “I’d say you’re pretty lucky to have me around. Not just for fixing sinks but for making sure you have someone to brighten your day.”

Lando stood just outside the kitchen, feeling like he was witnessing a live performance of “How to Steal Your Wife 101.” Great, now he’s the king of flirting while unclogging pipes. What’s next? A serenade with a plunger in hand?

Jake finished fixing the sink and looked at Y/N. “All done! If you need anything else, whether it’s a helping hand or just someone to talk to, you know I’m just next door.”

Y/N thanked Jake profusely and he headed out with a casual wave, leaving Lando to confront the situation with a stiff smile.

As days went by, Lando’s jealousy simmered. He noticed how Jake seemed to be everywhere at all times. It felt like Jake had become a permanent fixture in their lives while Lando was relegated to a supporting role.

One evening, after Jake had joined Y/N and Noah for a “family movie night” in the communal lounge, Lando, who had been busy working out, decided to address his frustrations. He plopped down next to Y/N, attempting to sound casual but failing miserably. “So, what did you guys watch tonight?” he asked, his tone teetering between curiosity and annoyance.

“Oh, Jake brought over a bunch of movies. We watched ‘The Incredibles.’ Jake’s kids love it and Noah had a blast.”

Lando forced a smile, his mind racing. Jake’s the movie night savior now too. Next thing you know, he’ll be building a playhouse and teaching Noah how to ride a bike.

Y/N reached out and touched his arm reassuringly, clearly seeing the jealousy in her husband’s eyes. “Lando, you don’t have to worry. It’s just that Jake’s been around a lot because he’s been so helpful. We really appreciate him but you know we miss you a lot.”

Despite Y/N’s reassurances Lando’s jealousy festered. One evening, as Lando returned home from another exhausting day, his frustration peaked and he decided it was time to have a serious talk.

“Y/N, can we talk for a minute?” Lando asked, his voice tight.

Y/N looked up, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “Sure, what’s up?”

Lando led her to a quieter corner of the apartment so the kids wouldn’t hear them. “It’s about Jake. I’ve noticed that he’s been around a lot lately, helping with everything from the plumbing to entertaining Noah.”

“Yes, he has been very helpful. Why?”

Lando took a deep breath, trying to control his irritation. “I’m not just talking about him being helpful. It seems like he’s also been... flirting with you. I’ve seen him make these comments and it’s starting to really bother me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “Flirting? Lando, are you serious? Jake’s just being friendly. He’s not trying to do anything inappropriate.”

“Friendly?” Lando ran a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “He’s practically moving in on our family. I saw him fixing the sink and making those comments. It’s like he’s trying to be more than just a neighbor.”

Y/N’s face softened with concern. “Lando, I appreciate that you’re feeling this way but you need to trust me. We’re friends with him and it doesn’t mean anything more than that.”

Lando’s mind raced as he thought about confronting Jake directly but he didn’t want Y/N to feel like he didn’t trust her. Fine, maybe I have to take a different approach…

Determined to reclaim his place in his family’s life Lando began devising a plan. If they moved to a new house, he reasoned, they could start fresh and put some distance between themselves and Jake’s frequent presence. He dived into real estate listings, focused to find them the perfect house, far away from any neighbors.

This one’s got a huge backyard. Perfect for, I don’t know, playing hide-and-seek without accidentally finding Jake. And look at this one, a home office! Finally, a place to escape from all the well-meaning neighbors.

A few days later Lando broached the topic with Y/N. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter like he was about to reveal a major plot twist in a thriller, “maybe it’s time for us to find a new place. Something with a bit more room. What do you think?”

Y/N looked up, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Really? I thought we were just starting to get settled here.”

“I know,” Lando nodded, attempting to sound casual, “but with Maebry and everything, I think a bigger space might be nice. Plus, it’d give us a chance to get away from the hustle and bustle of apartment living.”

Y/N considered his suggestion, her gaze thoughtful. “Well, I suppose it would be nice to have more room and we’ve talked about wanting a bigger place eventually.”

Lando’s plan was falling into place like a perfectly timed pit stop. He spent the next few weeks visiting houses, each one carefully chosen to seem like the ultimate family paradise. He made every decision appear practical and thoughtful, crafting the narrative that the new house was the best move for their family.

When he finally found the perfect house Lando prepared to break the news to Noah and Y/N with a level of enthusiasm that bordered on theatrical. “Guess what, guys? We’re moving to a new house! It’s going to be amazing, more space for all of us!”

Noah’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Really, Dad? Will it have a big backyard?”

“Absolutely,” Lando said, nodding vigorously. “A huge backyard where you can play all the time.”

“I’m excited about the move, too,” Y/N directed at her husband, “but you know, we’re going to miss Jake. He’s been such a great friend.”

Lando smiled, though his mind was already racing with thoughts of fewer interruptions from their former neighbor. Yes, yes, we will totally miss him!

Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as he imagined Jake’s future antics, perhaps starting a new superhero club in his own apartment. For now, though, Lando was content with the knowledge that in this new house he was firmly back in the driver’s seat of his family’s life.

________

AN: To both Anons, I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[tikosblogg]

Hey slay

Best friend Noah x reader perchance??

Post show smut 👀👀

Feelings have been tense for a while between the two of them and after joining them on tour watching the set really made things heat up

The rest of the band and crew have been teasing Noah and reader for ages about how they act around each other

Warnings: Just smut!

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THE REQUESTS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ❤️

Tonight felt tense… a whirlwind of emotions urging me towards something I wasn't sure I was ready for. Stage lights sliced through the venue, painting Noah in a godlike aura. He was a force of nature up there, all raw energy and primal screams, a world away from the Noah I knew.

We’d been friends for years, practically since diapers. I’d watched him chase his dreams with the kind of unwavering dedication that both inspired and intimidated me. And now, here he was, tearing up stages across the country. And here I was, trailing along as a glorified… friend.

Joining them on tour had seemed like a good idea at the time. A break from my monotonous routine, a chance to see a different side of the world. But watching Noah perform night after night had unleashed something in me I’d tried so hard to ignore. The casual teasing from the rest of the guys hadn't helped either. Every wink, every pointed look, every knowing smirk had hammered home the undeniable truth: I was completely, irrevocably, head over heels for Noah.

And apparently, everyone else knew it too.

The final chords of "Nowhere to Go" reverberated through the arena. The crowd roared, a tidal wave of sound that crashed over the stage. Noah threw his head back, sweat plastering his dark hair to his forehead, and for a split second, his eyes met mine. A jolt, like static electricity, shot through me. It was always those fleeting moments of connection that undid me.

Backstage was a bit chaotic. Everyone packing equipment, the guys unwinding, and the lingering scent of sweat and adrenaline. I navigated the throng, trying to look busy, trying to appear nonchalant, trying desperately to maintain a semblance of composure.

"Hey, love bird!" Nick's voice boomed over the din. I groaned inwardly.

"Don't you have a drum kit to dismantle?" I retorted, trying to keep the irritation from my voice.

Nick just grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Just admiring the view. You were practically drooling during 'Limits'."

My cheeks flushed, and I averted my gaze. "Shut up, Nick."

"Oh, come on," he chuckled, nudging my shoulder. "It's obvious. You're practically radiating hearts. And judging by the way Noah stares at you when he thinks you're not looking… well, let's just say the tension could cut glass."

He walked away, leaving me to stew in my embarrassment and the ever-present, frustrating truth of his words.

I caught sight of Noah near the catering table, accepting congratulations from a well-wisher. He looked exhausted but exhilarated, his smile radiating genuine joy. I wanted to be the reason for that smile. I wanted to be the one he looked for in the crowd. I wanted… more.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to him. "Great show," I said, trying to sound casual.

He turned, his eyes locking onto mine. The noise of the backstage faded into a dull hum. "Thanks," he said, his voice rough, still slightly panting. "You think so?"

"Think so? Noah, you were incredible. The energy was insane."

A slow smile spread across his face. "You always know what to say." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "Listen, can we talk? Somewhere else?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. Talk?? About what?? Oh my gosh. I’ve been way too obvious. He’s gonna call me out over my weird ogling.

He led me through the labyrinthine backstage corridors to the empty green room. The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in a bubble of quietness. The room was kind of small, sparsely furnished, and smelled faintly of cologne and cigarettes.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, his nervousness mirroring my own. "Look," he began, his voice hesitant. "I know things have been… weird between us lately."

"Weird?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's one word for it."

He chuckled, the sound strained. "Okay, maybe 'weird' doesn't quite cover it. The truth is…" He trailed off, seemingly unable to find the right words.

I took a step closer, straightening my spine, not taking my eyes off his. "The truth is what?"

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension. "I can't stop thinking about you. All the time. Especially when I'm on stage, and I see you in the crowd, and…" He paused, taking a deep breath. "God, this is harder than singing in front of thousands of people."

"Just say it, Noah," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He reached out, gently cupping my face in his hands. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "I love you," he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I have for a long time. I just didn't know how to tell you."

The admission hung in the air between us, a fragile, precious thing. Tears welled up in my eyes. "I love you too," I confessed, my voice thick with emotion.

A sigh of relief shuddered through him. He lowered his head, his forehead resting against mine. "I was so scared," he murmured. "Scared of ruining our friendship, scared of losing you."

"You could never lose me," I whispered back.

He tilted my head up, his eyes searching mine. We didn't need to say anything. I simply leaned in and met his lips with my own.

The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration. But as our emotions surged, it deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Years of unspoken feelings, of pent-up desire, were poured into that kiss. It was a kiss that tasted of longing, of relief, of pure, unadulterated bliss.

His hands moved from my face to my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his hair.

We broke apart, gasping for breath, our eyes locked. The air thick with tension. He dove in again, pulling me towards him, as we both collapsed onto the couch. 

I straddled him, my thighs pressing against his as I settled onto his lap. He groaned softly, his hands roaming up and down my body. His fingers traced the curve of my waist, then moved up to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples through my shirt. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against my neck, his lips trailing kisses along my skin.

I moaned, my hands tangling in the back of his hair as I began to move, grinding against him like I’d done this a thousand times before. His dick pressed against me, and I felt that heat coil low in my stomach. His hands were everywhere palming my ass, gripping my hips, pulling me closer as he thrusted his hips upward to meet mine.

His hands were everywhere palming my ass, gripping my hips, pulling me closer as he thrusted his hips upward to meet mine, The couch creaking beneath us. He gripped the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and off. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. He shoved his face in my tits nipping at them. I whimpered at the delicious pain, as he pulled my bra off. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, while pinching and pulling the other one. “I need you to ride me, baby. Please.”

I nodded, going to stand up so I could take the rest of my clothes off, But his hands gripped my hips tighter stopping me. Before I could ask what he was doing, he shoved my skirt up around my waist. My breath hitched at the sheer desperation in his movements.

I gasped as he shoved his hands into my now soaked panties moaning at how wet I was. He slid his fingers through my slick folds, teasing me as i lightly bucked my hips against them. My hips bucked wilder, my breath coming in sharp gasps. His hand tightened on my hip, as his thumb softly brushed my clit. His whispered praise driving me towards the edge. “My gorgeous girl..you're so fucking perfect.”

His words fueled me, making me feel sexy, and wanted in a way I’d never experienced before. I finally managed to speak through my constant whimpers and moans. My hands gripping his shirt against his chest. "Noah please...I want you." He didn't think twice, before finally pushing his joggers down enough to release his aching dick. "Go ahead baby..." I nodded, my eyes finding his. I leaned back slightly, my hands braced on his thighs as I slowly sank down onto him. The feeling was intoxicating, and I could already feel the tight knot of pleasure that demanded release.

His eyes never left mine, his gaze intense and worshipful. “You’re so pretty baby,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Every fucking inch of you.”

I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing at his words. “Noah… I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his hand cupping my breast, squeezing and biting it again. “Just feel it. Feel how much I want you.” His lips brushed my heated skin as he spoke.

And I did. I felt it in the way his hands gripped me, in the way his body moved with mine, in the way his breath quickened while I rode him.

His fingers dug into my hip, guiding them as he thrust upward. His other hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you into another desperate messy kiss. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his voice a low rumble. “So tight. So perfect.”

His words sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I felt myself teetering on the edge. “Noah… I’m close,” I panted, my voice shaky.

“Me too,” he growled, his hands moving to my thighs, spreading them wider as he angled his hips to hit deeper. “Come on pretty girl, cum for me.”

That was all it took. I cried out, my body trembling as my orgasm washed over me, waves of pleasure crashing through. His name escaped my lips on a breathless moan, and I felt him thrusting harder and quicker into me, his own release following close behind.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he came, his hands still gripping me tightly. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum.”

I collapsed onto his chest, breathless and sated, my heart still racing. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as he kissed the top of my head. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft but steady.

I smiled, my fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest. “I love you too,” I murmured.

[callsigns-haze]

The Twisters Masterlist

- WARNING - please understand that some of my stories contain, gore, smut and other adult topic.

Tyler Owens

Lean On

Summary: Tyler Owens, an avid storm chaser, takes his friends Javi and Kate to meet his estranged wife YN and their son Noah, rekindling old tensions. During a fierce tornado, they seek refuge in a cinema, where Tyler and YN rediscover their love amidst the chaos. YN begs Tyler to never leave again, and he promises to stay, solidifying their connection he broke all those years back.

Lean off

Summary: Tyler returns to visit YN and their son, Noah, after a year. Upon arriving at YN's small apartment, Tyler immediately senses tension between them. YN is cold and distant, and Tyler soon discovers the reason—she had seen him on a recent livestream, where he had flirted with his crew member, Kate, and kissed her forehead. Although Tyler insists that it was harmless, YN's hurt is evident, as it reminds her of all the times he put his storm-chasing career above their family.

Aim to please

Summary: Tyler Owens discovers Y/N, a girl who dances for him, and they engage in a passionate, intimate private dance. Despite lacking protection, Y/N reassures Tyler, leading to a deep bond. Tyler uses a roll of dollars to tease and reward her, solidifying their bond and hinting at future shared moments.

A Love in the Eye of the Storm

Summary: Y/N tends to Tyler's injuries after he returns from a dangerous tornado chase, and their emotional reunion culminates in a passionate embrace, reaffirming their deep love and commitment to each other.

The Chase

Summary: Y/N and Tyler's storm-chasing adventure takes an intimate turn as Y/N teases and overstimulates him during a high-stakes tornado chase, creating an intense moment of passion and connection amidst the chaos.

Little chaser

Summary: Tyler and Y/n Owens enjoy a cozy movie night, only to be interrupted by their storm-chasing squad, who are shocked to discover Y/n's pregnancy

Little baby entrance chase

Summary: Tyler and Y/n welcome their newborn daughter, Hazel Grace, into the world, embracing the overwhelming love and joy of becoming parents as they begin their new journey as a family.

Promises in the Quiet

Summary: Tyler Owens bonds with his newborn daughter, Hazel, promising to protect and love her unconditionally while overwhelmed with emotion during their first moments together.

Not so past

Summary: Tyler and Y/N reunite in a heated, emotional encounter, reigniting their past passion and unresolved feelings during a late-night moment by his truck.

The Weight of a Word

He always introduces her to people as “my wife”? Like they’re newlyweds and he just loves slipping in “wife” whenever he can

Before the Storm

Chapter Summary: Tyler Owens faces a life-altering decision when a tornado strikes his hometown, forcing him to choose between his passion for storm chasing and his newfound responsibilities as a husband and soon-to-be father.

Here Comes Kaboom

Summary: Tyler shares his love for storms with his three-year-old daughter Hazel, who joyfully believes she can summon thunder from the safety of his lap.

Winds of Forever

Chapter Summary: Tyler and Y/N embrace the unpredictability of their love by exchanging vows in the heart of a storm, beginning their married life with nature's raw power as their witness.

Not so cruising

Summary: During a storm chase, Y/N and Lilly are caught in a tornado after a last-minute seat swap, leading to a harrowing rescue by Tyler and the team, with Y/N injured but eventually safe.

Unanswered

Summary: Y/N anxiously monitors a severe tornado chase from the sidelines due to illness, fearing the worst when the live stream abruptly cuts off, only to be relieved when Tyler, her partner, returns safely.

part 2

Not leaving

Summary: Y/N races to save Tyler, trapped under debris after a tornado, refusing to leave his side until he's safely rescued.

Not so past

Summary: Tyler and Y/N reunite in a heated, emotional encounter, reigniting their past passion and unresolved feelings during a late-night moment by his truck.

Study Stress

Where he's helping the reader calm down from an intense school moment. Like in college for a tough major (architecture would be cool lol, not biased at all; maybe focusing on better built homes for tornados) and it's like the first day of classes and it's chaos already.

Another 2

Summary: Tyler and Y/N take their daughter Hazel baby shopping as they prepare for the arrival of their twin boys, savoring a day filled with love, laughter, and the anticipation of expanding their family.

Down Bad

Summary: Tyler and Y/N's serene day of hiking turns into a life-threatening battle against a sudden tornado, forcing them to rely on each other to survive.

Spooky

Summary: Tyler and Y/N’s haunted house date turns into a fight for survival when they realize the danger is all too real.

Happy Birthday

Summary: Tyler surprises Y/N with a secret birthday celebration after she thinks he forgot, turning her day into an unforgettable memory filled with love and joy.

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Alex Thomas at The New Republic:

Bernie Sanders seemed genuinely impressed by the size of his Los Angeles rally this weekend. “Unbelievable!” he declared upon reaching the microphone, “there are people half a mile away!” Moments later, he claimed 36,000 people were gathered before him, which constituted “the largest rally that we have ever had.” If I were forced to paint with a broad brush—and at 36,000 people, a broad brush would be the instrument of choice—I’d say the crowd was a coalition of aging hippies and entertainment industry millennials. It was a massive crowd, to be sure, but nobody in the throngs surprised me by their presence. I did manage to find one woman who voted for Donald Trump in 2016 before voting for Biden in 2020. Prior to the rally, she confessed to me, “I’m so thankful [Bernie] is doing this kind of thing.”

This was a message I heard repeatedly from attendees: Those gathered were hoping for hope itself. Maybe even a determination to hope. Noah, a 28-year-old software engineer, told me while waiting in line, “I’m hoping for some answers about how to stay encouraged … I’m hoping this is a positive day and adds some clarity to the situation.” Moments later, his friend Amir chimed in, “Hope has to be cultivated, kind of. And so I think this is, I don’t know—maybe therapy?” There were plenty of therapeutic aspects to the rally, like Joan Baez crooning “Imagine” or Neil Young, Maggie Rogers and Baez singing “Keep on Rocking in the Free World.” But, despite Sanders’s promise that “We’re going to make our revolution with joy. We’re going to sing and dance our way to victory,” it was hard to characterize the crowd as hopeful, much less joyful. Nevertheless, there was a determination among these 36,000 people. A 32-year-old screenwriter named Brett told me: “The only way I know how to go on is to hope and believe—and certainly it won’t happen if we don’t come here and try to work together and listen to each other.”

And there was that other kind of determination as well—the determination to unite a left wing in the place of an official institutional party organ that feels incapable of much at the moment. This was not the hardened Bernie crowd of 2016. I saw far more Harris-Walz shirts than Bernie 2020 shirts. That determination to hope has seemingly expanded the tent. With that in mind, there’s a precarious challenge that Sanders—and, more importantly, his younger proteges who will carry this movement into the post-Trump era—are going to have to face. They have to unite a defeated half of the political spectrum and turn all of these determined sparks of hope into a structured movement. Congressman Maxwell Frost, who spoke before Sanders, told me, “When something big happens in the country and people feel like something’s wrong, they’ll pick one of two things—sometimes it drives them further into apathy, sometimes it drives them into action. Organizers stand at that crossroad and we help give people a political home. That’s what’s going on. We see this billionaire takeover of our country and now as organizers, we have to stand at that crossroad and try to get people into something. Because there’s also a lot of people in this moment who will fall more into apathy and our job is to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Naturally, this crowd was far from apathetic; indifference isn’t a strong enough force to get the average person to stand in the Los Angeles sun all day. Here, the heat was punishing: Sanders had to stop his speech several times to call medics into the crowd, as did several of the other speakers. At one point the nurses’ union rushed off the stage to help. And their assistance was limited to the people they could see: If there really were 36,000 people at this thing, only about 10,000 of them were visible from the stage; the rest were on the other side of a treebank and the press riser. That crowd stood in a dirt lot watching a jumbotron. Beyond them, the streets were filled with people too, just standing. The mood became more vague as you worked your way through the outer reaches; in the further orbit, there was less of that sense of passion and determination. Still, even at the margins there was a consensus among the furthest-flung that this was, for reasons they couldn’t articulate, the place to be. Here on the periphery you’d encounter a hollowed-out dumpster with a younger group perched on the rim, just sitting, watching the event unfold on the big screen. Again, 36,000 people—from the dumpster sitters to the gleeful crowd in the front bouncing a beach ball—is a hard number to do much but generalize. But this crowd showed up for something, and you could hear that among them. On stage, you could see that something taking shape. During her oration, Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez connected local action—last week, an LA school superintendent turned away DHS officers attempting to enter his school—to the billionaire takeover of the government. “This moment did not come out of nowhere,” she said, “the destruction of our rights and democracy is directly tied to the growing and extreme wealth inequality that has been growing for years in America.”

[...] On stage, there was a clear passing of the torch and a message taking shape. Sanders’s argument was broad, he bashed “a corrupt campaign finance system” and Elon Musk generally. Both of those were ripe objects of criticism, but Ocasio-Cortez had a more finely tuned message. Like Sanders, she criticized the Democratic Party. While he criticized them for listening to “their billionaires,” she attacked specific practices like congressional stock trading and corporate lobbying, both of which are unpopular. Sanders attacked Trump’s billionaire coterie, but AOC proposed a longer game, telling the crowd, “If we are here to defeat [Trump], we must defeat the system that created him.”

Bernie and AOC’s Fighting Oligarchy Tour has brought out a new movement to fight the Trump/Musk Oligarchy every step.

See Also:

America, America (Steven Beschloss): Taking It to the People

[concretejunglefm]

had an insane thought about coaxing sub!Noah through his vocal warm-ups with a wand. ya know really testing his range of moans

- @somebodyels3

CW: smut including mentions of using a toy, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, men whimpering, and moaning.

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

When you watch how effortlessly he falls to his knees on stage, it always takes you back to the moments before this, to when you had him alone in the greenroom for his warmup act. There is nothing that Noah loves more than performing for you in various ways, and naturally, you take full advantage of that.

“Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that.” You purr, watching the sweat glisten across his creased brow. Noah has been incredibly good to you up until now, producing the most beautiful sounds, but you’re aware that he possesses more that are higher pitched or primal sounding, if pulled from him right. All it takes is your encouragement and the delicate pink travel wand you brought along with you for this very purpose.

“I-I don’t…” He begins before the words falter into a whimper as he feels the wand’s pressure, his thighs trembling as the vibrations travel down his shaft and spread towards his already leaking tip.

You sit straddling him, shuffling back just far enough to peer down between you. You watch as his stomach muscles tremble and clench, knowing he’s fighting hard to hold on because you haven’t given him permission yet.

“Please…” he pleads with you, and your gaze meets his, instantly melting at the sight of him blissfully intoxicated by your relentless teasing.

Leaning forward, you trail your mouth along his jawline, gently grazing the shell of his ear with your teeth as you whisper, “I know you can be louder for me, my sweet boy.” You want to coax him, to hear him let go completely. Noah understands exactly what you’re seeking, however, unlike in your hotel room where he’d happily fall apart, uncaring about the thin walls, here he’s far too conscious of being overheard.

Shifting closer, you gradually raise the wand higher, pressing it against his tip. With each shift of your hips, you feel the other side of the wand pressing against your covered cunt, the fabric of your panties already soaked through as you sit there in only them, on his lap.

“Come on, baby, for me?” Your own moans start to escape your lips, and in response, Noah follows, encouraged by your sounds

“Fuck, that feels so good, doesn’t it?” He hums in agreement, and you intensify the vibrations, hearing the throaty growl he lets out in return.

With your free hand, you gently slide your fingers up into his hair, tugging at it roughly as you force him to look at you from beneath his hooded lids. “Don’t hold back on me, or I’ll stop.” A mischievous glint flashes in your eyes, conveying your seriousness.

You’ll stop and send him up on stage, half-hard and unsatisfied if necessary.

“Now, let’s try this again.” You purr against his ear and trail your tongue slowly down the side of his neck as he begins to release the sounds you know he’s been holding back, each one becoming more whiny and high-pitched than the last.

“Please, please, please… I need to cum. I’m so close, please.” Noah’s voice falters, and you can’t help but smirk, knowing just how close he is.

Your hips start to rock, grinding against the wand as you keep it firmly on his tip. The motion of you is another incentive, another thing he can feel but not fully experience. It’s no secret that you enjoy tormenting him even in the slightest ways. His hands are free to explore you, and they do, but you know he’s desperate to be inside you.

“Remember what I said? You can cum inside me after the show. Be a good boy, and I’ll let you remind me that I’m yours.” Your fingers tighten in his hair, and he lets out a grunt, a hint of frustration escaping that quickly fades into a moan with the growing intensity of the wand.

You can hear the rising sounds in his voice, you’ve always known he could create the most beautiful sounds, both through singing and in the bedroom, but right now, he sounds more pulled apart than you’ve ever experienced.

As you release his hair and watch his head fall back, he finally succumbs to the overwhelming pleasure that drives him closer and closer to the edge until he spills over him, you and the toy. The warmth of his cum coats his stomach and the front of your panties, and you feel the combination of your own wetness seeping through the fabric, causing them to melt into one.

You don’t stop, even when you look between you both to see him twitching and throbbing, the tip red and angry from being beyond overstimulation, and prolonging his release.

His sounds continue to come, pleas falling between the combination of moans and whimpers. But it’s his moans that seem to grow, becoming louder and choked as you watch a second climax erupt from him. The sound practically blends into a cry, and it’s beautiful, watching him fall apart to this extent.

As you lift your gaze, you reveal in it, enjoying the way his body trembles beneath you. He paints himself once more, being milked with every contract of his stomach muscles and the toy you keep pressed to him, his face completely washed with ecstasy.

You watch him, feeling proud of the extent to which you’ve pushed him, knowing that he’ll be thinking about this as he takes the stage, especially during the moments when he falls to his knees so effortlessly, just like he always does for you.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @I-love-the-smell-of-you-blood @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades @concretenoah @bluehairpunklol

[us-cj]

𝖘𝖎𝖈 𝖘𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖞𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖘

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed. — U.S. Constitution Second Amendment

The militia of the United States consists of all able-bodied males at least 17 years of age... — 10 U.S. Code § 246

Patrick Henry

* “Guard with jealous attention the public liberty. Suspect everyone who approaches that jewel. Unfortunately, nothing will preserve it but downright force. Whenever you give up that force, you are inevitably ruined.”

George Mason

* “To disarm the people…[i]s the most effectual way to enslave them.”

James Madison

* “The right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed. A well regulated militia, composed of the body of the people, trained to arms, is the best and most natural defense of a free country.”

* “The ultimate authority, wherever the derivative may be found, resides in the people alone.”

Noah Webster

* “Before a standing army can rule, the people must be disarmed; as they are in almost every kingdom of Europe. The supreme power in America cannot enforce unjust laws by the sword; because the whole body of the people are armed, and constitute a force superior to any bands of regular troops that can be, on any pretense, raised in the United States.”

Samuel Adams

* “The Constitution shall never be construed to prevent the people of the United States who are peaceable citizens from keeping their own arms.”

Richard Henry Lee

* “A militia when properly formed are in fact the people themselves…and include, according to the past and general usuage of the states, all men capable of bearing arms… “To preserve liberty, it is essential that the whole body of the people always possess arms, and be taught alike, especially when young, how to use them.”

Thomas Jefferson

* “I prefer dangerous freedom over peaceful slavery.”

* “What country can preserve its liberties if their rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance. Let them take arms.”

* “The laws that forbid the carrying of arms are laws of such a nature. They disarm only those who are neither inclined nor determined to commit crimes���. Such laws make things worse for the assaulted and better for the assailants; they serve rather to encourage than to prevent homicides, for an unarmed man may be attacked with greater confidence than an armed man.”

* “The Constitution of most of our states (and of the United States) assert that all power is inherent in the people; that they may exercise it by themselves; that it is their right and duty to be at all times armed.”

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No emergency justifies the violation of any of the provisions of the United States Constitution.

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Ex parte Milligan, 71 U.S. 2 (1866) which yet stands to this day: "The Constitution of the United States is a law for rulers and people, equally in war and in peace, and covers with the shield of its protection all classes of men, at all times, and under all circumstances. No doctrine, involving more pernicious consequences, was ever invented by the wit of man than that any of its provisions can be suspended during any of the great exigencies of government. Such a doctrine leads directly to anarchy or despotism..."

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Volume 16, American Jurisprudence 2d, § 52: “It is sometimes argued that the existence of an emergency allows the existence and operation of powers, national or state, which violate the inhibitions of the Federal Constitution. The rule is quite otherwise.

No emergency justifies the violation of any of the provisions of the United States Constitution. An emergency, however, while it cannot create power, increase granted power, or remove or diminish the restrictions imposed upon power granted or reserved, may furnish the occasion for the exercise of power already in existence, but not exercised except during an emergency... The Constitution of the United States is the law for rulers and people, equally in war and in peace, and covers with the shield of its protection all classes of men, at all times, and under all circumstances”

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Volume 16, American Jurisprudence 2d, § 177: "The general misconception is that any statute passed by legislators bearing the appearance of law constitutes the law of the land. The U.S. Constitution is the supreme law of the land, and any statue, to be valid, must be in agreement.

It is impossible for both the Constitution and a law violating it to be valid; one must prevail. This is succinctly stated as follows: The general rule is that an unconstitutional statute, though having the form and name of law, is in reality no law, but is wholly void, and ineffective for any purpose; since unconstitutionality dates from the time of its enactment, and not merely from the date of the decision so branding it.

An unconstitutional law, in legal contemplation, is as inoperative as if it had never been passed. Such a statute leaves the question that it purports to settle just as it would be had the statute not been enacted.

Since an unconstitutional law is void, the general principals follow that it imposes no duties, confers no rights, creates no office, bestows no power or authority on anyone, affords no protection, and justifies no acts performed under it... A void act cannot be legally consistent with a valid one. An unconstitutional law cannot operate to supersede any existing valid law. Indeed, insofar as a statute runs counter to the fundamental law of the land, it superseded thereby. No one is bound to obey an unconstitutional law and no courts are bound to enforce it."

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“All laws, rules and practices which are repugnant to the Constitution are null and void ...if any statement within any law which is passed is unconstitutional, the whole law is unconstitutional.” Marbury v. Madison, 5th U.S. 2 Cranch 137, 180.

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"Even a state of war and the declaration of secession by the people cannot suspend the Constitution or remove its protection." Houston County v Martin, 232 Ala 511, 169 So. 13.

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Devil's Bride

Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Chapter Forty Two

Eren sat inside the nape of his Titan, his breathing ragged, his hands clenched so tightly that his fingernails dug into the flesh of his palms. His entire body trembled with barely contained rage, his mind repeating Aurora’s words over and over again, hammering them into his skull like nails being driven into wood.

Floch left me to die.

The sentence echoed in his head, louder than the distant screams, louder than the battle still raging around him. Even with the chaos unfolding, with Jaegerists and Scouts still desperately cutting down the last of the Titans, with Historia and the Azumabitos unaccounted for, with Reiner lying sprawled in the dirt, his armored jaw shattered from Eren’s punch—none of that mattered right now.

Because Aurora had been abandoned.

His wife. His pregnant wife.

Left to be eaten.

Eren could feel something twisting violently inside of him, something dark and all-consuming, threatening to pull him under. It was the same fury that had driven him his entire life, the same anger that had fueled his every step toward vengeance, toward retribution, toward ensuring that those who had wronged him, who had wronged his people, suffered in ways they could never recover from.

Floch Forster.

That fucking traitor.

Eren had trusted him. Of all the people in the Jaegerists, Floch had been one of his most loyal followers, a man who claimed to understand his vision, who swore that he would fight for Paradis until the bitter end. Eren had given him responsibility, power, faith—and this was what he did with it?

Left his wife to die?

Eren’s fingers twitched as his Titan’s grip around Aurora and the child—Noah, she had called him—tightened instinctively. He forced himself to loosen his hold, not wanting to hurt them, but the barely contained wrath inside him was begging to be unleashed.

His Titan let out a deep, guttural growl, the sound vibrating through the battlefield like a beast ready to pounce. The air felt thick with tension, heavy with the weight of what was about to happen.

Eren’s glowing green eyes bore into the trembling form of Floch, who was still on the ground, his face bloodied from Levi’s ruthless beating. The redhead tried to push himself up, his expression flickering between anger and something dangerously close to fear, but before he could say a single word, Eren moved.

With terrifying speed, his Titan’s massive hand shot forward, fingers wrapping around Floch’s body and lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. Floch let out a choked gasp as he was yanked into the air, his limbs thrashing as Eren’s grip tightened around him.

The battlefield seemed to hold its breath.

All around them, soldiers stopped mid-fight, their gazes snapping toward the scene. Jaegerists and Scouts alike stood frozen, watching in silent horror as their leader—their devil—held one of their own in his grasp, his expression unreadable, but his intentions crystal clear.

Floch struggled, trying to pry himself free, but Eren’s Titan fingers squeezed around him just enough to make him realize how small he truly was.

A strangled noise escaped Floch’s throat, part rage, part desperation. He looked down at Eren’s monstrous form, his own blood dripping onto the Titan’s hardened skin.

“Eren!” he coughed, his voice cracking under the pressure. “You don’t understand—I did it for you! I did it for Paradis!”

Eren didn’t react. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.

Floch gritted his teeth, his frustration bubbling over. “She’s a weakness! Don’t you see it? She’s distracting you! You’re not the Eren Jaeger I believed in anymore! Ever since you found her, you’ve changed! You’re softer! Slower! We don’t need the family man version of you, Eren! We need the devil!”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

And then Eren squeezed.

Floch let out a strangled cry as the pressure increased, his ribs creaking under the force of Eren’s grip. His vision blurred for a moment, his lungs struggling to take in air, but he forced himself to keep speaking.

“If you really love Paradis, you’ll let her go!” he gasped. “You’ll let her die! She—she’s making you weak!”

Aurora, still cradled in Eren’s other hand, let out a sharp, broken sound at the sheer audacity of it. She was shaking with rage, her ice-blue eyes burning with fury, her platinum blonde hair a tangled mess from the fight.

Eren’s grip on Floch tightened further.

There was no hesitation.

No second thoughts.

Eren had been willing to put up with a lot of things. He had tolerated betrayal before, had endured countless losses, had been forced to make choices no man should ever have to make.

But this?

Floch had tried to take away the only thing that mattered to him.

The only thing.

Aurora.

Their child.

That was unforgivable.

The Titan’s eyes burned brighter as a deep, rumbling snarl crawled up Eren’s throat, vibrating through the battlefield. He was done listening.

Floch’s eyes widened in realization.

“Wait, no—”

Eren’s Titan threw him.

The force of it was monstrous, sending Floch’s body hurling through the air like a broken doll. He barely had time to process what was happening before he crashed against the remains of a destroyed building, his body slamming into the rubble with enough force to snap bones.

A sickening crack echoed through the battlefield.

Silence followed.

For a moment, no one moved.

No one breathed.

Floch’s broken form twitched against the debris, his body barely clinging to life, his breath ragged and shallow. Blood poured from his mouth, from his shattered ribs, from the deep gashes lining his arms and legs.

He tried to move.

Tried to speak.

Tried to defend himself.

But he couldn’t.

His limbs refused to obey him, his vision going in and out of focus as pain swallowed him whole.

The battlefield remained eerily quiet.

The Jaegerists stood frozen, eyes wide with shock, their weapons hanging uselessly at their sides. Some of them looked at Eren with horror. Others with awe.

The Scouts, on the other hand, did not look surprised.

They had seen this coming.

Levi, still standing nearby, didn’t even flinch. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something dangerously close to satisfaction flickering in his gaze.

Aurora, cradled safely in Eren’s palm, clutched Noah against her chest, her entire body trembling. She knew Eren well enough to know what was coming next.

And sure enough—

Eren’s Titan moved again, this time stepping forward, his glowing green eyes locked onto Floch’s barely breathing form.

The message was clear.

Eren wasn’t finished.

His broken body was barely holding itself together. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and thick, soaking into the ruined dirt and debris. His breaths were shallow, wet, and labored, each inhale rattling with the unmistakable sound of a punctured lung. His mangled limbs twitched as his body fought for survival, but it was futile.

The damage was done.

His ribs, shattered from the force of Eren’s throw, jutted out grotesquely beneath his torn uniform. Some had pierced straight through his internal organs, and every slight movement sent a fresh wave of agony crashing through him. His vision blurred, red creeping into the edges of his sight, but through the haze of pain and impending death, he saw it—

Eren’s Titan was coming.

Each step shook the earth, sending tremors through the broken ground, dust rising in clouds around the massive form. The deep, guttural rumble that emanated from the massive beast was filled with pure, seething contempt. Green eyes, glowing like an omen of death, bore into him from within the monstrous skull, unyielding and void of mercy.

Floch knew.

This was it.

But he wasn’t going to die quietly.

A broken, rasping sound bubbled from his throat—half a laugh, half a choked wheeze of pain. His bloodied lips curled back in something between a sneer and a snarl as he lifted his head just enough to glare up at the massive Titan looming over him.

"Fuck you," he spat, his voice hoarse, his breath catching painfully in his throat. "Fuck you, Eren."

His words, fueled by nothing but bitter rage, came out slurred as blood trickled down his chin. His whole body was shaking, but it wasn’t just from pain—it was fury. Hatred.

He shifted his gaze, wild eyes darting to Aurora, still cradled protectively in Eren’s massive hand. She was looking down at him, her ice-blue eyes filled with something that made his stomach twist in disgust—pity.

Floch let out a dry, humorless laugh.

"You too," he coughed, his voice dripping with venom as he glared at her. "You fucking whore. This is all your fault. You and your goddamn distraction. You ruined him. You made him soft."

His breath hitched, his vision blurring further, but he refused to stop. If he was going down, he would go down spitting.

"You think you're some saint? You think you're better than me? You’re a fucking parasite! A leech! He would have been great without you! He would have—"

A deep, furious rumble from Eren’s Titan cut him off, shaking the air with the sheer force of his barely contained rage.

But Floch wasn’t done. He turned his head, his bloodstained teeth bared as he spat curses at everyone.

"Levi, you absolute bastard—" He coughed, blood spurting from his lips, but he kept going. "You should’ve died instead of Commander Erwin. You were never fit to lead."

He turned his fading glare to Reiner, his expression twisting in disgust. "And you. You traitorous piece of shit. You should have been put down years ago."

His eyes darted to Pieck, who was standing off in the distance, her expression unreadable. "You were always a snake. Always playing both sides, you smug little—"

Floch suddenly stiffened, his eyes going wide as a shadow loomed over him.

A low, wet growl filled his ears.

He turned his head just in time to see the gaping maw of a Pure Titan lurching toward him, its empty eyes locked onto him with mindless hunger. Saliva dripped from its teeth, its massive jaw unhinging as it moved in for the kill.

Floch felt his heart slam against his ribcage.

"No."

His breath hitched, his throat constricting.

No no no no no.

Panic surged through his broken body, his limbs jerking instinctively, but he was too weak to move. His fingers clawed uselessly at the dirt, his body screaming in protest as he tried, tried to push himself up—

"Help!" he shouted, his voice raw, desperate. "Someone—help me!"

His wild eyes darted to the Jaegerists standing nearby, the same men who had once followed him without question, who had fought beside him, who had believed in him.

He saw hesitation in their eyes.

Some of them looked heartbroken.

But none of them moved.

Floch’s breath caught, his bloodied hands grasping at the dirt in disbelief.

"You—" His voice cracked. "You cowards!"

But he wasn’t stupid.

He should have known.

He had betrayed Eren’s trust. He had tried to kill the only person Eren would burn the world down for. He had left her to die.

Why did he think anyone would save him?

A strangled noise ripped from his throat as the Titan lunged closer, its rancid breath washing over him, its massive teeth inches from his broken, mangled body.

This was it.

This was the end.

And yet—

Up above, cradled safely in Eren’s Titan hand, Aurora turned her face away, pressing Noah’s small body into her chest so he wouldn’t see.

Because despite everything—despite everything—she still felt something she shouldn’t have.

Guilt.

No one deserved to die like this.

Not even him.

Her ice-blue eyes darkened with sorrow as she watched, her heart clenching as she realized there was nothing she could do.

And Eren saw it.

His Titan’s massive head tilted, his glowing eyes narrowing as he stared at her, studying the way she clenched her jaw, the way her fingers tightened around the child in her arms, the way she looked at Floch with something close to regret.

His massive chest rose and fell, the sound of his deep, irritated exhale vibrating through the air.

She had nothing to feel sorry for.

Floch had made his choice.

And now, he would die by it.

Aurora swallowed thickly as the Titan’s jaws finally snapped down.

A sickening crunch echoed across the battlefield.

And then—nothing.

Just silence.

Aurora closed her eyes, gripping Noah just a little tighter, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted, trying to ignore the way Eren’s Titan let out a low, satisfied rumble.

The traitor was gone.

The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the grotesque, wet sounds of bones crunching between massive, saliva-slicked teeth. The Pure Titan that had devoured Floch chewed slowly, methodically, its dull, lifeless eyes gazing blankly into the distance as it processed its latest meal. Blood and viscera dripped from its gaping maw, staining the earth beneath its lumbering form. The sharp scent of iron clung thickly to the air, mixing with the smoke, gunpowder, and the acrid stench of burning flesh.

Eren’s Titan stood still, towering over the carnage, its hardened fingers curling slightly as it remained frozen in place. Inside, Eren was seething, but not over Floch’s gruesome demise. No—he couldn’t care less about that traitor’s fate. His rage festered for an entirely different reason.

Floch had dared to betray him.

Floch had dared to betray her.

Eren’s grip on Aurora and Noah tightened slightly, his Titan’s immense hand still cradling them protectively. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of Aurora’s breathing, the slight tremble in her form despite her best efforts to keep it together. The child clung to her desperately, his tiny fingers gripping her torn clothing with all the strength he could muster. Eren’s gaze never left her, even as the others stood in stunned silence, watching the Pure Titan as it finished swallowing what remained of the man who had once called himself Eren’s most loyal soldier.

Aurora refused to look.

She kept her ice-blue eyes averted, her jaw clenched tightly as she continued to bury Noah’s face into her shoulder, shielding him from the horrors around them. But Eren had seen the flicker of regret in her gaze before she turned away. It had been fleeting, but it had been there.

She still had that softness in her.

Even for someone like Floch.

Eren’s Titan let out a slow, irritated exhale, steam hissing through its teeth.

The others weren’t taking it as well as him.

Armin stood rigid, his face pale, his wide blue eyes fixed on the spot where Floch had been only moments ago. He had seen so much death, had caused so much death, but something about this… It had happened so fast. One moment, Floch was cursing them all, his body barely holding itself together, and the next—he was gone. Devoured. Erased.

Jean swallowed thickly, rubbing his face with a bloodied hand as he shook his head. He had despised Floch, had found him insufferable, delusional, and power-hungry—but even he wasn’t sure he deserved to go out like that. It had been brutal. Unceremonious. A man who had spent his whole life fighting for what he believed in, reduced to nothing more than another casualty beneath a Titan’s heel.

Connie’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his fists clenched at his sides. His gaze flickered to Eren’s unmoving Titan before drifting to Aurora. He wondered if she felt guilty, if she was questioning whether she should have begged Eren to intervene. But even if she had, what could they have done? Floch had sealed his fate the moment he abandoned her.

Sasha let out a slow breath, her expression unreadable. She knew Floch had been dangerous, unhinged even, but there was something gut-wrenching about watching a man die like that. No last words. No redemption. Just a scream cut short by crushing jaws.

Hange, for once, was silent. Her sharp eyes flickered between the Titan and Eren, studying the way he stood there, unmoving. It wasn’t satisfaction she saw in him—it was something else. Something darker.

Mikasa, standing closest to Eren’s massive Titan, barely reacted. She had watched it happen, had heard Floch’s final cries, had seen the way Aurora’s hands tightened around the child—but her attention remained fixed on Eren. He was on edge. She could feel it. The way his Titan barely moved, the way his breathing was slightly uneven beneath all that hardened flesh. He was holding himself back.

From what exactly, she didn’t know.

But she knew it was dangerous.

Levi was the first to move.

Without hesitation, he shot forward with his ODM gear, his maneuvering swift and precise as he soared through the smoky air. His sharp eyes locked onto the Pure Titan that had just swallowed Floch, and before it could take another step, he made his move.

Blades gleamed under the dim, smoke-covered sky as he spun midair, his movements as fluid as ever. With two well-placed slashes, he carved straight through the nape of the Titan’s neck, cutting deep into the steaming flesh. The Titan barely had time to react before its massive body shuddered violently, its lifeless eyes rolling back as it began to fall.

Levi landed gracefully, his boots hitting the ground just as the Titan’s massive form crashed beside him with an earth-shaking thud.

Steam hissed from its exposed nape, and for a brief moment, the battlefield was filled with the eerie quiet that always followed a kill.

Levi barely spared the corpse a glance before turning his gaze back to Eren’s Titan.

"Well?" he called up, voice sharp. "You gonna stand there all day or are we actually gonna finish this fight?"

Eren’s Titan remained motionless for a second longer, the glowing green eyes behind the massive skeletal face narrowing slightly.

Then, slowly, his grip on Aurora loosened.

The massive hand lowered, placing her gently on the ground along with Noah. As soon as her feet touched the dirt, Aurora took a shaky breath, holding Noah closer to her. Levi was already at her side in an instant, his keen gaze flickering over her for any sign of injury. His expression remained unreadable, but the sharpness in his eyes softened ever so slightly as he noted that she was still in one piece.

"Stay put," he muttered to her, his voice quieter now, just for her ears. "We’re not done here."

Aurora nodded, her fingers still clutching the small boy against her, her platinum blonde hair falling messily over her face as she tried to steady herself. Noah clung to her just as tightly, his small body trembling from the sheer terror of everything he had just witnessed.

Above them, Eren’s Titan let out another deep exhale, steam curling around its massive frame.

And then, without another word, it turned.

With a single, powerful motion, Eren launched himself back into battle, his massive form crashing through the chaos, tearing through the remaining Titans with renewed ferocity. His fury had not subsided—it had only been redirected.

He needs too end this nightmare before it got any worse.

And he would.

No matter the cost.

…

Meanwhile, Reiner lay sprawled out on the bloodstained ground, his titan’s once-impenetrable armor shattered, his jaw still aching from Eren’s brutal punch. He had barely managed to keep his grip on consciousness after the devastating blow, but now, as he lay there, trying to catch his breath, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the gruesome sight before him.

Floch’s screams had echoed through the battlefield, his frantic, panicked cries for help ripping through the chaos like a knife. Even now, the sound of bones snapping and flesh being crushed lingered in Reiner’s mind. He had seen many people die, had caused the deaths of many more, but this… this was different.

It wasn’t a casualty of war. It wasn’t a soldier dying in battle. It was a man being thrown to the wolves, left to be torn apart, abandoned even by his own comrades.

And Eren hadn’t cared.

Even as Floch’s blood stained the dirt, even as his body was reduced to nothing but scraps of meat between a titan’s teeth, Eren had stood still, unbothered, unmoved. There was no anger, no satisfaction—just indifference. As if he had already calculated the loss before it even happened and deemed it irrelevant.

Reiner had always known Eren was ruthless. He had seen it firsthand every time they fought.  When he had looked into those piercing green eyes and seen nothing but an unstoppable force of destruction. But this… this made something deep in his gut twist uncomfortably.

Aurora had looked away.

She had shielded that child, that boy she had risked her life for, and turned her head, unwilling to watch the gruesome scene unfold. Even she, the woman who had chosen to stand by Eren’s side, had felt something. Pity. Guilt. Anything.

But Eren?

Nothing.

Reiner sucked in a sharp breath, trying to move, but his body screamed in protest. His titan’s jaw was still fractured, pain radiating through his skull, but none of it compared to the weight pressing down on his chest.

Pieck had seen it too.

She stood a few meters away, her human form having emerged from her Cart Titan’s remains, her dark eyes locked onto the towering form of Eren’s titan as it continued its rampage through the battlefield. Her expression was unreadable, her lips pressed into a thin line, but Reiner could see it—the unease creeping in, the silent realization that the man they were hoping to reason with had no interest in diplomacy or compassion.

Porco stood beside her, his fists clenched at his sides. His golden eyes flickered between Aurora, who was still cradling the terrified child, and Eren, who had already moved on as if nothing had happened. His jaw tightened.

"This is the devil you lot put your trust in?" Pieck finally said, her voice sharp despite the exhaustion in it. "The one who's supposed to save Paradis? He just let that bastard get eaten without a second thought."

Porco exhaled, his fingers tightening around the straps of his uniform gear as he glanced at Pieck. "You surprised?" he asked, though there was no mockery in his voice. Just cold acceptance. "Eren Yeager doesn’t care about anything that doesn’t fit into his plan. That much has always been obvious."

Pieck scoffed, shaking her head. "Yeah, well, someone should probably remind him that there’s more to war than just himself."

Reiner struggled to sit up, groaning as his muscles protested the movement. He placed a shaking hand against his temple, his breath uneven. His head was still spinning from the earlier impact, but he forced himself to focus.

Aurora was still standing there, her platinum blonde hair messy and tangled, her ice-blue eyes locked onto the ground as if she was struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Noah was whimpering quietly, his small hands gripping onto her as if she was his only lifeline.

Reiner wasn’t sure what was more disturbing—Eren’s complete disregard for Floch’s brutal death, or the way Aurora seemed to be questioning herself for feeling bad about it.

She had nothing to feel guilty for.

Floch had abandoned her. Had left her to die. Had knowingly let a pregnant woman and an innocent child become titan food.

Reiner had never liked Floch. Even back in their cadet days, he had always found him arrogant, self-righteous, and dangerously fanatical. But even he had to admit that no one deserved to die like that.

But Eren hadn’t even flinched.

Reiner clenched his fists against the dirt, his breath coming out in short bursts as he tried to process it all.

He had been so sure that Eren was just like him. A soldier thrown into a war he never asked for, a man burdened by fate, doing whatever it took to protect the people he loved.

But now, watching him from the ground, covered in blood and surrounded by bodies, Reiner wasn’t so sure anymore.

Because Eren hadn’t hesitated.

Not once.

Not when he punched Reiner’s titan. Not when he let Floch get eaten. Not when he turned away and kept fighting, as if none of it had even mattered.

This wasn’t the same boy Reiner had grown up with. This wasn’t the stubborn, reckless kid who had once charged headfirst into battle, fueled by righteous anger and desperation.

This was something else.

Something colder.

Something far more terrifying.

Reiner swallowed hard, finally managing to push himself onto his elbows. Pieck noticed, her sharp gaze flickering toward him as she took a cautious step forward.

"You good?" she asked, though her tone made it clear she didn’t expect him to be.

Reiner let out a bitter laugh, though it lacked any real humor. "No. Not really."

Porco crossed his arms. "Yeah, well, welcome to the club."

Reiner turned his head, his gaze locking onto Aurora’s once more.

She hadn’t moved.

She was still holding the boy, still staring down at the bloodied battlefield with that same haunted look in her eyes.

Reiner had spent years believing that Eren was his mirror. That they were the same. Two sides of the same coin, both trapped in an endless cycle of pain and destruction.

But now, he wasn’t so sure.

Because if Eren was the embodiment of unwavering determination, then Aurora was something else entirely.

She was the proof that Eren could have been something different. That he could have had a life outside of war.

But he had chosen this path.

And Reiner had a sinking feeling that there was no turning back now.

…

As Eren turned back towards the battle, Levi’s grip was firm but careful as he secured Aurora against him, his ODM gear propelling them away from the battlefield and towards safety. Her body was trembling, the weight of everything that had happened crashing down on her all at once. Her hair whipped against her face as the wind rushed past them, but she hardly noticed. Her eyes remained wide and unfocused, replaying the horrifying sequence of events over and over again in her mind.

Floch had abandoned her.

He had left her and Noah to die.

And then he had died himself, screaming in agony as a titan ripped him apart.

She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat, clenching her hands into fists to stop their shaking. Levi must have felt the tension in her body because his grip around her tightened slightly, grounding her. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough.

Mikasa was flying beside them, holding Noah securely in her arms. The child had stopped screaming, but his little body still shook violently, his tiny hands clinging desperately to Mikasa’s cloak. His face was buried in her shoulder, muffling the quiet whimpers that still escaped him every few seconds.

Aurora’s heart ached for him. He had just lost his mother in the worst way possible. He had watched her be devoured by a titan, her body torn apart right before his innocent eyes. He was too young to understand why any of this was happening. Too young to bear witness to the horrors of war.

And yet, he had.

Aurora forced herself to take a deep breath. She couldn’t break down now. Not in front of him. Not in front of Historia. She had to stay strong.

The moment they landed outside the safe house, Jaegerists immediately rushed to secure the area. Their weapons were drawn, their eyes darting frantically between Aurora, Mikasa, and Levi, as if expecting an enemy to be right behind them.

Historia pushed through them, her face pale and panicked. The second she laid eyes on Aurora, her breath hitched.

“Aurora!” Historia called, running toward her.

Aurora barely had time to steady herself before Historia crashed into her, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. The warmth of her friend’s body, the sheer relief in her trembling form, made Aurora’s own composure crack just slightly. She squeezed her eyes shut, allowing herself a brief moment of weakness as she clung to Historia just as tightly.

“I thought—” Historia’s voice broke, and she pulled back just enough to look at Aurora’s face. Her blue eyes searched her frantically, as if checking for any injuries. “I thought you were with us! What the hell happened? Why did you run away?”

Aurora exhaled shakily, her fingers curling into the fabric of Historia’s cloak. “I— I heard a child crying. I couldn’t just ignore it. And then… everything went to hell.”

Historia glanced toward Noah, still nestled against Mikasa, before looking back at Aurora with wide, disbelieving eyes. “You ran off into the middle of that to save him?”

Aurora nodded, her throat tightening. “I had to.”

Historia let out a breath, clearly overwhelmed, but before she could say anything else, Aurora’s expression darkened. Her hands clenched at her sides as the words she had been holding back finally came spilling out.

“Floch left me,” she said, her voice quieter now, but laced with unmistakable bitterness. “He left me and Noah to die.”

Silence fell over the group.

Historia’s entire body went rigid. “What?”

Aurora forced herself to continue, even as her voice shook with anger. “I was trapped. There were titans coming. Floch had a thunderspear—he had a chance to save me, but he chose not to. He just… flew away. Like it was nothing. I would’ve died if it wasn’t for Reiner saving me.”

Historia’s hands slowly curled into fists at her sides. Her expression, once filled with relief, twisted into something far more furious. “That bastard,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “That bastard—he was supposed to protect you!”

Levi, standing beside them, folded his arms across his chest, his jaw set in an unreadable expression. “He’s dead,” he said bluntly, his voice as sharp as ever. “Got eaten.”

Historia sucked in a sharp breath, her fury momentarily replaced by shock. “Wait—he’s dead?”

Aurora nodded. “I told Eren what he did, and then he threw Floch like a ragdoll and his body got mangled. He was screaming for help, but no one saved him.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “And then Levi killed the titan that ate him.”

Historia seemed at a loss for words. She looked between Aurora and Levi, as if struggling to process the information. Finally, she let out a slow breath, running a hand through her golden hair.

“I don’t even know what to say,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I knew he disliked you, but… I never thought he’d do something like that.”

Aurora let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Neither did I.”

Historia turned back toward Mikasa, who was still holding Noah protectively. The little boy had gone completely silent now, his eyes staring blankly ahead, his mind likely still reeling from everything he had been through.

Historia’s expression softened. “And the boy?”

Aurora swallowed, stepping closer and resting a gentle hand on his back. “His name is Noah. His mother was killed in front of him. He has no one now.”

Historia’s gaze flickered between the child and Aurora, something unreadable passing through her expression. After a moment, she let out a quiet sigh. “We’ll take care of him,” she said firmly. “He’s not alone.”

Aurora’s chest tightened. “Thank you.”

Historia gave a small nod before turning back toward Levi. “And Reiner? You said he saved them?”

Levi’s brows furrowed, his annoyance evident. “Yeah. He got to them before the titan did.”

Historia exhaled, clearly grappling with the conflicting emotions that revelation brought. “He’s done horrible things,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But… he saved them.”

Aurora nodded. “He did. I don’t know why. But I owe him my life.”

Historia looked at her for a long moment before slowly nodding in understanding. Then, her expression darkened once more, and she turned back toward the battle still raging in the distance.

“And Eren?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Aurora glanced in the same direction, her heart tightening at the mere mention of his name. She could still see him, his titan form moving erratically through the battlefield, destroying anything in his path with ruthless efficiency. Even from here, she could tell how much rage was coursing through him.

He had been fighting to reach her.

And she knew the moment he laid eyes on her again, there would be no stopping him.

Aurora’s grip on her cloak tightened, her mind racing. The battle wasn’t over. They weren’t safe yet. But for now, she had Historia, Noah, and the Azumabitos.

And soon, Eren would come for her.

But the Azumabitos huddled together, their normally composed faces now pale with fear. Kiyomi Azumabito, who had once carried herself with such unshakable confidence, now gripped the folds of her elegant kimono tightly, her eyes darting between the chaos outside and the group surrounding her.

"This is madness," one of her advisors whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the distant roars of titans and the clashing sounds of battle. "We must leave. Now."

Kiyomi nodded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she turned toward Historia and Aurora. "This island is doomed," she said, her voice clipped with urgency. "We will no longer be discussing trade or alliances. Our only concern now is securing passage off this cursed place before we all die."

Aurora let out a slow, weary sigh, the weight of their words pressing against her chest. She wasn't surprised—of course, they wanted to leave. Who wouldn't after witnessing this carnage? The alliance had been on thin ice from the beginning, and now, with titans rampaging through Paradis, whatever fragile trust they had built was utterly shattered.

Historia, standing beside Aurora, clenched her fists at her sides. Her golden brows furrowed, frustration flashing in her eyes. "So that’s it, then?" she asked, her voice steadier than Aurora expected. "After everything, you’re just going to abandon the alliance and leave us to deal with this alone?"

Kiyomi didn’t even flinch. "We are not warriors," she replied smoothly. "We are diplomats and businessmen. We came here with the intention of forging an alliance based on mutual benefit, but this?" She gestured toward the window, where the battlefield raged on. "This is not a nation that is prepared to enter the global stage. This is an island consumed by war."

Aurora closed her eyes for a moment, trying to will away the exhaustion creeping into her bones. "You think we wanted this?" she asked, her voice quieter but no less firm. "This wasn’t some foolish mistake on our part. This happened because of Zeke. Because he brought these titans here. Because Marley never gave Eldians—any of us—a choice but to fight for our survival."

Kiyomi’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Perhaps. But that is not our concern."

Aurora’s fingers curled into the fabric of her cloak, resisting the urge to snap at the woman. Of course, it wasn’t their concern. The world never cared about what happened to Paradis or its people unless it directly affected their own interests.

Historia took a deep breath, her frustration barely contained. "If you want to leave, we won’t stop you," she said, her voice laced with disappointment. "But at the very least, wait until the battle is over. If you step outside now, you’ll be killed before you even reach the docks."

Kiyomi studied Historia carefully before giving a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Very well," she agreed. "But once the battle concludes, we will be leaving."

Aurora swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and turned her gaze toward the window again, watching as Eren’s titan tore through the remaining pure titans with savage efficiency. The scouts fought with everything they had, but the sheer number of enemies had already cost them dearly.

She hated that this had happened.

She hated that Zeke had ruined everything.

The Azumabitos leaving meant that the last potential alliance Paradis had was gone. Any chance they had of gaining recognition on the world stage, of proving that they weren’t just "island devils," had gone up in flames along with the lives lost today.

And yet, none of that mattered now.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was surviving.

Aurora tightened her grip on Noah, who had gone quiet in her arms, exhaustion finally lulling him into a fragile sleep. She brushed a strand of his light brown hair from his face, her heart aching for the child who had lost everything today.

She had lost much in her own life, but she had never been as young as Noah when the world turned against her. She could only imagine what this would do to him.

Historia’s voice pulled Aurora from her thoughts. "We need to move somewhere more secure," she said, turning to the Jaegerists still standing guard. "How is the situation outside?"

One of them, a younger soldier with sweat dripping down his face, shook his head. "The titans are almost dealt with, but we’ve taken massive casualties. We can’t stay here much longer."

Aurora nodded in agreement. "We need to get back to Eren and the others. We need to see what’s left."

Kiyomi didn’t argue. The woman had no intention of staying any longer than necessary, and if moving meant getting closer to her eventual escape, she was more than willing to comply.

Levi, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. "Then let’s move. Stay close and don’t do anything stupid."

His tone was sharp, but Aurora could sense the exhaustion beneath it. He had seen too much death today. They all had.

As they prepared to leave, Aurora took one last look at the room, at the remnants of a failed alliance and the weight of another battle lost before it had even truly begun.

All of this—because of Zeke.

Because of his betrayal.

And now, they had to pick up the pieces once again.

…

Hours later, the sun hung low on the horizon, bleeding warm hues of orange and red into the sky as the last of the titans fell. The battlefield, once roaring with chaos, was now eerily silent, the thick scent of blood, sweat, and death lingering in the air. The only sounds were the labored breaths of the surviving soldiers, their bodies trembling from exhaustion, their minds still reeling from the horrors they had just endured.

Eren staggered forward as his titan form dissolved, the hot steam rising into the cooling evening air. His bare feet touched the blood-soaked ground, and he barely registered the dirt and carnage beneath him. His entire body felt like it had been pushed past its limits, his muscles aching, his vision swimming from sheer exhaustion. But none of that mattered.

He was already scanning the crowd, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, his heart thudding violently against his ribs.

Where was she?

The thought consumed him. He needed to see her. He needed to hold her.

His eyes darted past the remains of fallen Jaegerists and scouts, past Armin who was leaning against a broken cart, his face pale with exhaustion, past Mikasa who had just dropped to one knee, trying to catch her breath. Jean, Connie, Sasha, Hange, even Levi—every single one of them looked as if they had been to hell and barely crawled their way back. But none of them mattered in that moment.

Then, he saw her.

Aurora stood a few yards away, her platinum blonde hair disheveled, her ice-blue eyes filled with so much relief that it nearly broke him. Her dress was dirtied, torn in some places, her hands still stained with soot and dried blood from the battle. And cradled in her arms was the small, trembling form of the little boy, Noah, still clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

Eren didn’t hesitate. He didn’t think. His body moved on instinct.

He ran.

Aurora barely had time to react before Eren was in front of her, his arms wrapping around her so tightly that she let out a small gasp. His hands pressed into her back, his fingers gripping her dress like if he let go, she would disappear. His entire body shook against hers, his breath shuddering against the crook of her neck as he buried his face there, inhaling the scent of her, grounding himself in the reality that she was alive.

Aurora let out a small, broken sound, her own arms trembling as they wrapped around him in return. “Eren…” her voice was hoarse, thick with emotion. “You’re okay.”

Eren clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut. “You were in danger,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I—” he pulled back slightly, cupping her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks as he studied her, his green eyes desperate, searching. “I thought I lost you.”

Aurora’s lips trembled as she shook her head. “I’m here,” she reassured him, her hands coming up to cover his. “I’m here, Eren.”

His gaze flickered down to her stomach, his fingers moving before he could stop them, pressing gently against the small bump that had begun to show. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of it. The thought of losing them, both her and their child, made him feel like he was drowning.

Eren swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “Floch… he really—”

Aurora nodded, her expression darkening. “He left me,” she admitted, her voice still filled with disbelief. “He left me to die, Eren. Me and Noah.”

At the mention of the child, Eren finally took notice of the small boy still clutching onto Aurora, his tiny fingers tangled in the fabric of her dress. The boy’s tear-streaked face was buried against her shoulder, his small body still trembling from the terror of everything he had seen.

Eren’s expression softened slightly. He didn’t know who this boy was, didn’t know why Aurora had risked her life for him, but he knew one thing—if she had taken him into her arms, then he would be under their protection now. He wouldn’t question it.

Aurora looked up at him, her icy blue eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. “I couldn’t leave him,” she murmured. “His mother… she was killed right in front of him. He had no one.”

Eren exhaled slowly, nodding. He reached out carefully, resting a gentle hand on Noah’s back. The boy flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he peeked up at Eren with wide, fearful eyes.

“You’re safe now,” Eren told him, his voice rough but firm. “I promise.”

Noah didn’t respond, but after a long moment, he hesitantly leaned into Eren’s touch, as if testing whether he was really safe.

Aurora sighed softly, shifting her weight as she rested her forehead against Eren’s. “What happens now?” she asked quietly.

Eren’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. “Now… we rebuild,” he muttered. “And we end this.”

Aurora shivered slightly at the finality in his tone, but she didn’t argue. They couldn’t let something like this happen again.

As the sun dipped further below the horizon, casting the battlefield in a dim, golden glow, Eren wrapped Aurora in his arms once more, holding her close. No matter what happened next, he wouldn’t let her go.

He had almost lost her today.

He would never let it happen again.

…

Reiner sat hunched over amidst the ruins of the battlefield, his armored hands braced against the blood-soaked ground. His entire body ached, the pain radiating from his shattered jaw down through his spine. His titan form had finally dissipated, leaving him exposed in the cool evening air. His breaths came in ragged, shallow gasps, his chest heaving as he tried to process what had just happened.

It wasn’t just exhaustion weighing him down—it was the crushing, unbearable weight of failure.

Pieck was just a few feet away, her normally sharp, calculating eyes hollow and distant. She was still covered in grime, her dark hair tangled, her Cart Titan form having finally given out from sheer exertion. Her hands trembled slightly as she wiped at the blood splattered across her arms, though the action was more absentminded than anything.

Neither of them spoke for a long while.

The battlefield had grown eerily quiet, save for the distant murmurs of surviving soldiers and the occasional crackle of burning debris. The scent of death was thick in the air, mingling with the salty breeze that swept in from the sea. The sun had almost completely set now, casting long, creeping shadows across the devastation.

Reiner finally lifted his head, his eyes scanning the remains of the harbor—the place they had led their people to, promising safety, only to watch them be turned into monsters.

It had been a desperate gamble, bringing the refugees here. They had convinced themselves that it was their best chance, that Paradis could offer them something Marley never would—a future free of chains. But Zeke had betrayed them. Used them. Every single one of those people had died for nothing.

His mother… his mother had died for nothing.

Reiner swallowed thickly, his throat tight as he recalled the exact moment it happened. He had seen her, just for a split second, before she transformed. She had been looking right at him, her mouth opening as if to call out to him before the blinding flash of energy had swallowed her whole.

And then, she was gone.

She had spent her entire life suffering under Marley’s rule, clinging to the hope that Reiner’s position as a warrior would bring their family honor. And in the end, he had failed her. He had failed all of them.

A bitter laugh bubbled up in his throat, but it came out as a choked sob instead. He dropped his head again, fingers digging into the dirt, trying to ground himself against the overwhelming wave of grief that threatened to consume him.

Pieck let out a slow breath, breaking the silence between them. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she murmured, her voice hoarse.

Reiner turned his head slightly, watching as she wrapped her arms around herself, staring blankly at the ground. Her face was unusually pale, her body still trembling in the aftermath of everything.

She had lost her father today.

Pieck, who had always been the most composed of them, the one who could think her way out of anything, now sat frozen, hollowed out by the weight of what they had done.

Reiner forced himself to sit up fully, wincing at the pain lancing through his ribs. “We should have known,” he muttered, his voice raw. “Zeke… he was never going to help us.”

Pieck let out a bitter scoff. “No,” she agreed. “He never was.”

They had been fools to believe him. Zeke had played his part well, selling them on the idea that they could work together, that they could save their people. But in the end, Zeke had never cared about the Eldians of Marley. They had just been pawns in his grand plan, disposable sacrifices to weaken Paradis before he made his next move.

And it had worked.

A third of the Jaegerists were dead. Paradis had been significantly weakened. And now, whatever Zeke had planned next, it would be that much easier for him to enact.

Pieck exhaled sharply, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “We should have done more,” she whispered.

Reiner clenched his fists. “What could we have done?” he bit out, frustration and self-loathing warring inside him. “He had already made his decision. He was always going to do this.”

Pieck sighed, lowering her hands. She looked up at the darkening sky, her expression unreadable. “What do we do now?” she asked quietly.

Reiner didn’t have an answer.

They had no home to return to. Marley would never take them back now. And Paradis… well, they weren’t exactly in a welcoming mood after what had just happened.

Reiner stared at the ground, his mind drifting back to the moment he had saved Aurora. He had acted on instinct, had thrown himself between her and that titan without even thinking about it. And now, looking back, he realized something.

He didn’t want to die.

Not yet.

Not until he did something to make up for everything he had done.

Reiner turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on Eren, who was still holding Aurora tightly, his grip possessive, protective. The sight made Reiner’s stomach twist, but not out of jealousy. It was something else.

Eren had something to fight for.

He had people to fight for.

And Reiner… maybe, just maybe, he could find something worth fighting for, too.

“We keep moving forward,” he muttered, echoing the words that had once belonged to Eren Jaeger himself.

Pieck blinked, turning to look at him. “And where does that take us?”

Reiner exhaled, pushing himself onto his feet. His entire body protested the movement, but he ignored it. He glanced over at the wreckage, at the bodies of the fallen, at the soldiers who were still standing, barely holding themselves together.

“We stay,” he said finally.

Pieck frowned. “Stay?”

Reiner nodded. “We don’t have a choice,” he admitted. “Marley is gone. And Zeke… he’s still out there. Whatever his next move is, we need to be here when it happens.”

Pieck studied him for a long moment before letting out a tired sigh. “You’re right,” she said. “As much as I hate to admit it… you’re right.”

They had lost everything today.

But if they were going to have any chance of fixing it, they had to start somewhere.

And for now, that place was here.

Among their enemies. Among the people they had once fought against.

But maybe… just maybe, they weren’t enemies anymore.

~

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