#Racing River Bridge

[rabbitcruiser]

Racing River, BC (No. 1)

The Racing River is a 95 km long tributary of the Toad River in northern British Columbia.

The Racing River rises on the northern slope of the 2133 m high Ortona Mountain in the Muskwa Ranges, a mountain range in the north of the Rocky Mountains. From there it flows north through the mountains. Northeast of the village of Toad River (near Mile 422 of the Alaska Highway), the river joins the Toad River River below the Toad River Hot Springs Provincial Park. 12 km from the mouth the Racing River the British Columbia Highway (Alaska Highway) crosses the Racing River and runs a few miles downstream on the right bank before the highway leads into the valley of the right tributary of the MacDonald Creek.

Source: Wikipedia

[voluptuarian]

why does reading Herodotus always make me get story ideas? currently re-treading through a lot of the Persian section, this time as bg to the Greek side and got to Tomyris again and I knew there was going to be ideas fallout as a result

[ashlumi]

[catgirlforeskin]

I saw Joe Biden pick up two dogs, holding them in one fist like a pair of socks, then set forth, dogs dangling. He crossed upon a stone bridge and he looked down into the swollen waters and raised the dogs and pitched them in.

At the farther end the bridge gave onto a small street that ran along the river. Here Kamala Harris stood urinating from a stone wall into the water. When she saw the president commit the dogs from the bridge she drew her pistol and called out. The dogs disappeared in the foam. They swept one and the next down a broad green race over sheets of polished rock into the pool below.

Kamala raised and cocked the pistol. In the clear waters of the pool willow leaves turned like jade dace. The pistol bucked in her hand and one of the dogs leaped in the water and she cocked it again and fired again and a pink stain diffused. She cocked and fired the pistol a third time and the other dog also blossomed and sank.

You expect me to vote for this guy?

[meanbossart]

Because I love the idea of DU drow as a companion... how would you recruit him? Where do you find him, and what's his intro cutscene?

Hi, I've been thinking about this since I got this message :V

There's this nautiloid pod somewhere nearby the Owlbear cave right? So those things were just crashing all over the place, not just near the beach where the actual ship fell. I believe his pod could have had a similar fate and fallen somewhere off the beaten path.

Mind you that, In this scenario, waking up from the pod and onto the forest map would have been DU Drow's first-ever conscious minutes ever since having his mind wiped, so he truly has no fucking idea of what just happened - he just knows his head is in shambles and that he needs to survive for long enough for his memories to return, assuming they ever will. So, his immediate instinct would be to retreat away from where the people are.

I think underneath the bridge, where there's running water and some fauna/flora would be a good spot to find him. Players might take a day or two until they stumble across this weirdo companion and so they are more in the loop than he would be. You'd find a little blood-trail leading you down there, and eventually spot a fist's corpse with no shoes near the river - DU drow would be crouched down by the water washing blood off himself:

While the rest of the party may have been picked off random places as they went about their days, this guy was busy being dissected and put back together over and over again - and there's no way Kressa bothered to dress him back up fully before he was taken away from her (me allowing the man to have pants on at all is a mercy onto you all) so he begins with no armor, but to make up for that fact he's the only companion who begins with a great-sword, which he would have stolen from the fist.

When you approach he is perfectly calm, In fact, he doesn't seem all that there. He stands up and appears half-ready for a fight, but lets you speak first. You can either ask what he's doing here, or about the corpse. You get more or less the same answer to both:

If you successfully persuade him, he tells you with no particular tone of shame or remorse that you got him, he did kill him, however he claims he was attacked first. Whether you pry into his mind with the worm, or have a scroll of read-thoughts, you get the same narration:

"Behind the aloof facade, you find the drow's mind to be in a concerning state of disarray: dozens of thoughts racing, jumbled, all at once, each trailing into the next before you can catch a hint of substance. You don't find the answers you were looking for, just red goo."

You CAN however use speak to the dead on the corpse. If you do that, it's revealed that he is actually telling the truth; The fist found him and assumed him to be with the drow who raided Wakeen's rest. Otherwise, you have to either take his word for it, attack him, or leave him.

He will refuse your offers to join you/go to your camp until you reveal to him that you have been tadpoled - either through using the Illithid-worm option, or telling him upfront through normal dialogue. If you didn't peer into his head earlier, you will now, confirming to yourself and him that he's also been infected. Then, you can tell him you're looking for a cure, and he will agree to travel along. This gets you approval from Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion, and disapproval from Lae'zel, Wyll, and Gale.

If you attack, he's as easy a fight as any companion would be at that point. If you choose to leave him be/not tell him about your worm so he refuses to join, he will appear at your camp after two long rests, basically forcing himself to into your party unless you kill him. You find him hanging out around Withers and he tells you he's decided to travel with you from now on, and that he will make himself comfortable.

If you ask for his name, he tells you to just call him whatever you want to (cue like 5 joke dialogue answers - he responds to all of them with a snort and you get approval if you pick any flattering ones). Whatever you ask about him gets you a very blunt, vague response. If you have Shadowheart in your party/are playing as her, she implies he may be suffering from memory loss, finally prompting him to admit to it. Otherwise he only reveals this after a couple more long-rests.

[austinbutlerslovers]

One Night in Budapest

Label 18+

During your girls’ trip abroad,you make a stop in Budapest. After a day of sightseeing, you and your friends settle into a hidden gem restaurant for local Hungarians. Unbeknownst to you, Austin Butler is a frequent patron, currently in the city filming “Dune: Part Two.” When you see him, you instantly recognize who he is, and after he makes eye contact, the connection is undeniable. He joins your table, and after some lively conversation, he asks you to join him the next day for a private tour of his villa where things quickly become intimate.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Instant attraction • sexual hesitation • mutual stimulation in a hot tub (hand job fingering)•foreplay •nipple play • size kink• passionate P in V • protection •multiple orgasms

📖 Proof Reader @purejasmine 🔗 Master List

One Night in Budapest

The cobblestone streets of Budapest are alive with the movements of tourists and locals, creating a lively backdrop as you and your two girlfriends, Emma and Sophie, soak in the city’s energy. On holiday, the three of you are enjoying every moment, your passports already brimming with stamps from countless exotic locations.​

Now in Budapest, you find yourself captivated by the stunning architecture and the lively atmosphere surrounding you.

Your itinerary takes you to some of the city’s most iconic landmarks: the grand Chain Bridge, the soothing Széchenyi Thermal Bath, and the imposing Buda Castle. Each stop feels more awe-inspiring than the last. As the sun sets, casting a warm, golden glow over the Danube River, the three of you decide it’s time to find the perfect place to eat.

You stumble upon a quaint little restaurant tucked away in a narrow alley, its glass front revealing a charming patio adorned with vibrant flowers and flickering lanterns. The rustic charm, along with the enticing smell of Hungarian delicacies, draws you in.

Inside, the cozy courtyard features wooden beams overhead and candlelit tables that create a warm ambiance. You are seated at a table near the window, excitement building within you as you prepare to indulge in the local cuisine.

As you look over the menu, you glance up and notice a familiar face, Austin Butler, the actor deep in conversation standing next to a table of another group of guests.

His presence is magnetic, and it’s hard not to steal glances. He’s covered almost head to toe in a makeshift disguise: a trench coat, a hoodie, and a brimmed hat. But his gorgeous blue eyes are unmistakable. They shine with an intensity and depth that draw you in, even from across the room.

His disguise might hide him from most, but you recognize him instantly. The way he moves, the subtle confidence in his gestures, and the warmth in his laugh are all unmistakable. He seems relaxed and easygoing, exuding a casual charm despite the efforts to stay incognito.

He unexpectedly laughs at something the other person says, and the sound is so rich and genuine you’re transfixed, caught in the spell of his charisma.

As if he can sense your stare, his gaze suddenly meets yours and his eyes sparkle with intense curiosity. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips when he sees you and the connection is undeniable.

As the waiter takes your orders, you notice Austin wrapping up his conversation with the other table of guests. Your heart races as he starts walking toward your table, his tall, striking figure commanding attention as he approaches.

You look up at him from your seat and can’t help but feel a surge of excitement and disbelief at how tall and handsome he is in person.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice smooth, accompanied by a disarming smile.

You and your girlfriends exchange stunned glances, barely containing your excitement before nodding eagerly and responding in unison, “Yes!”

Austin’s smile deepens, and he slides into the seat next to you, his warm, easy demeanor making the moment surreal.

After a round of introductions, you and your friends find yourselves deep in conversation with Austin, who turns out to be just as engaging and down to earth as he appears on screen.

He shares stories of his travels, film projects, and his time exploring Budapest. His laughter is contagious, and the way he listens, genuinely interested in your stories, makes each of you feel seen and appreciated.

As he speaks you begin to admire all of is stunning features finding what strikes you most about him is his unwavering eye contact which draws you in.

“So, what brings you to Budapest?” he asks, his voice lowering as he focuses all his attention on you.

You momentarily falter, searching for the right words, the intensity of his blue eyes sending a thrill through you.

“W-we’re on a girls’ holiday,” you recover, gesturing to your friends,.“We wanted a break from the usual tourist destinations to explore somewhere new.”

As you speak, you can’t help but admire the way his full lips curl into a knowing smile, a flicker of attraction in his eyes igniting a warmth in your chest.

You think Austin Butler might actually be into you, and the thought makes you bite your lip to contain your smile. The moment his eye linger on yours longer than necessary, you feel the pull of curiosity, you wonder how far this could go and lean a little closer as you ask,

“What about you, Austin? What brings you to Budapest?” You ask with a flirtatious tone hinting at another question lingering in the air: does he want you?

“Mmm, work mostly,” he says, unable to contain his smile, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as if he’s holding something back.

“What are you working on in Budapest?” you pry more, noticing how it excites him to keep a secret from you.

“It’s all under wraps,” he replies with a teasing grin.

“That’s too bad. I really wanted to know,” you say, letting your playful tone linger.

Austin rests his hand on his chin, a mischievous look in his eyes as a smile plays on his lips while he studies you.

“You’re not going to let me leave without sharing, are you?” He asks and the way his eyes meet yours tells you everything you need to know.

“Well, if it’s all under wraps…” you say in a mock-serious tone, delicately picking up a juicy cherry from your plate. As you take a teasing bite, the sweet flavor bursts in your mouth and you lock eyes with him as he watches as you lick the vibrant red juice glistening on your lips.

You savor the moment, your gaze still holding his, a playful challenge in your expression.

He stares at you, entranced. “I’m playing Feyd-Rautha, Paul Atreides’ arch-nemesis in Dune: Part Two,” he outright admits, captivated by your subtle hint of intimacy.

“So you’re a bad guy?” you grin, glancing at him with a seductive look in your eyes, the knowledge heightening your attraction to him even more.

Before Austin can reply, his assistant approaches with urgency.

“Hey, Austin, we’ve got another engagement this evening,” she says, gently reminding him of his schedule.

A flicker of reluctance crosses his face,clearly not ready for the night to end and as he stands and he looks at you with a smile that sends a rush of excitement through you.

“I’m staying at a villa just outside the city,” he says, his voice soft and inviting.

“Come tomorrow morning, I’d love to show you around.”

Your heart races at the unexpected invitation. You glance at your girlfriends, and they nod eagerly, almost too enthusiastically.

“I’d love to,” you reply trying to contain your excitement as you gaze up at him thinking of all the endless possibilities his invitation brings.

You exchange phone numbers, and for a moment, he hesitates, his gaze still lingering on yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his tone full of promise.

As Austin leaves, you can barely contain your excitement.

The moment he’s out the door, you all burst into excited whispers, your joy so overwhelming that you blurt out, “He invited me to his villa?!” startling the other diners.

You hold up your hand apologetically, your cheeks flushed from the thrill and when the bill comes, you notice it has already been paid in full by Austin.

The Villa

The next morning, you arrive at the villa, a stunning property nestled in the rolling hills overlooking Budapest. It is a blend of modern luxury and classical elegance, with ivy-covered walls, expansive gardens, and a panoramic view of the city. As you walk up the driveway, you are greeted by none other than Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, and Florence Pugh, all in casual hiking gear.

“Hey, welcome!” Timothée calls out, waving enthusiastically. Zendaya and Florence join him, offering warm smiles and friendly greetings.

“We were all just about to go on a hike,” Zendaya explains. “But it looks like Austin has other plans for you.” She says with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Florence giggles. “We’ll see you later… much later,” she adds, hinting that you’ll have the place to yourselves.

Then the trio heads off, leaving you to see Austin waiting at the front door, leaning against the frame.

He greets you with a warm hug and a smile, keeping his arm around you “I’m so glad you made it,” he says gently as you walk together.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all morning.” He admits leading you inside

You feel a flutter of excitement from his touch. “Me too,” you reply, your voice betraying your nerves and anticipation.

He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he continues, “I can’t wait to show you around. This place is fascinating”

As you walk through the villa, his arm resting comfortably around your shoulders, Austin points out various features, sharing little stories along the way. “This is the lounge,” he says, gesturing to the grand piano in the corner. “I like to play a bit when I need to unwind.”.

He guides you into the living room, an inviting space with soaring ceilings and a mix of modern and classical touches.

The furniture is elegant, complementing the contemporary style, and the expansive windows frame breathtaking views of the pool and the city stretching out beyond.

“This is one of my favorite views,” Austin says, leading you to the window. “Look, you can see all of Budapest from here.” He points, and your eyes follow, landing on the Chain Bridge spanning the Danube, connecting the two sides of the city

“This is amazing, Austin,” you say, astonished as you take in the view.

He smiles, his gaze lingering on you as you admire the cityscape. There’s something in his eyes, a subtle flicker of desire.

“It’s especially beautiful in the evenings,” he says softly “When the sun sets and the city lights start to twinkle on the water’s edge. Maybe you’d like to see it?” He asks, his voice warm, his eyes holding yours with a subtle seduction.

Your heart skips a beat as you answer. “I’d like that,” gazing into the depths of his blue eyes. He smiles at you and brings his hand down your waist ”Come on we haven’t finished our tour” he says guiding you from the living room.

As Austin walks with you to the private quarters of the villa he opens up about filming for Dune Part Two. He describes the elaborate sets and the intense action sequences without giving too much away.

As he continues the tour, you and Austin start bonding over your shared love of travel. He talks about his time in Budapest, describing his favorite spots in the city and his appreciation for his other travel destinations such as Rome and Spain.

You listen closely, captivated by his stories and the genuine passion behind his words. With every moment, you feel a deepening connection forming as the two of you explore the villa together, your conversations flowing naturally.

Eventually, his tour brings you to a large staircase. “There’s one more thing I want to show you, it’s a rooftop terrace,” he says, his eyes lighting up with excitement.” Then, with a playful grin, he adds, “You’ll need swimwear for this.”

His gaze flickers down your body momentarily before meeting your eyes again, his smile mischievous yet warm.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation.

“Absolutely!” you reply, eager to see what he has planned for you.

He leads you to a tiled lounge, where several bikinis are laid out on a chaise lounge. “Pick whichever one you like,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wait outside. No rush.”

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you browse through the selection and finally choose a bikini that makes you feel confident.

Once you’re ready, you step out to find Austin waiting for you, now in swim wear. His athletic frame is even more striking in the sunlight, his toned abs and broad shoulders immediately catching your eye.

“You look amazing,” you both say at the same time exchanging smiles.

“No, really—you look incredible,” he says, his voice full of genuine admiration.

You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Thanks,” you reply with s smile. “You look incredible too,” you add, and his face lights up with a broad grin pleased by your words.

He takes your hand, and the two of you head upstairs to the rooftop.

When you step out onto the terrace, the view takes your breath away. The entire city of Budapest is spread out before you, with the river sparkling under the morning sun, creating a picture-perfect scene.

The terrace is beautifully decorated, with plush lounge chairs arranged around a pristine hot tub. The vibrant colors of the cushions complement the surrounding landscape, and the water in the hot tub steams invitingly in the crisp morning air. The entire setting feels serene and luxurious, like something out of a dream.

As you both take in the breathtaking view, Austin turns to you with that signature charming smile, his eyes glancing toward the hot tub.

“Would you want to get in with me?” he asks, his voice sincere yet playful.

Your heart flutters, a mix of excitement and curiosity rising within as you wonder what his true intentions are feeling more tempted by him every second

“Sure” you reply, your voice tinged with anticipation.

He guides you toward the hot tub, offering a steady hand as you step closer. You carefully step in and the heat instantly eases the tension from your body as you sink into the bubbling water. Austin climbs in after you, settling into the tub with a contented sigh.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the warm water and stunning view creating a sense of calm. You exchange a smile with Austin, feeling a sense of peace and gratitude for this unexpected experience. Everything about the moment feels perfect.

As you soak in the bubbling water, Austin leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you with a coy smile.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot today,” he says, staring off into the distance for a moment, his expression softening. “How life surprises you in ways you don’t expect.”

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of calm and comfort spread through you, anchored by his presence. “I’m glad you’re here,” he adds, his voice sincere and warm.

“What is it about me?” you ask, your curiosity of his intentions finally getting the better of you.

He pauses, as if weighing his next words carefully then his eyes lock with yours as he speaks.

“The moment I saw you in that restaurant, I honestly couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confesses, his voice raw with honesty. “There’s just something about you—something captivating, irresistible.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a thrill of excitement rushing through you. The air between you feels charged as his hand brushes against yours. When your fingers intertwine together it sends a rush of warmth through your body.

“I knew I had to find a way to get to know you better,” he continues, his voice now softer, almost intimate.

“And now that you’re here with me, I know I made the right choice.” His smile is charming, his blue eyes filled with that same magnetism that drew you in from the start.

Before he can say another word, you act on impulse placing your hands to his jaw and pressing your lips on to his.

The kiss is perfect, sending a surge of emotions through you that you hadn’t anticipated. It’s a moment of pure instinct and passion, and for a brief second, Austin is stunned by your boldness.

As the kiss deepens, you feel him relax into it, his hands sliding to your waist, the connection between you intensifying with every heartbeat. In this moment, you know for sure you’re going to sleep with Austin Butler.

What else could he have expected, inviting a girl to his home so soon after meeting her the previous day?

Without breaking the kiss, you shift, climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him. The heat of his body against yours sending a thrill through you as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his swim trunks.

He gasps softly into your mouth, his body tensing beneath your touch. Your fingertips trace a delicate paths down his abs. Then, you find it—his big hard cock. He is much larger than you expected and your fingers wrap around the thickness in reverence as your bodies press together.

He pulls away from the kiss, his breathing uneven, and you stare at each other, his eyes clouded with conflicting thoughts.

You can tell by the way he pants, by the way his gaze flickers between desire and restraint, that he’s battling something in his mind. “Do you thi…” is all he manages to say before you kiss him again, silencing the hesitation you feel building within him.

Your heart races, caught between the thrill of the moment and the intense connection you feel with Austin. There’s a part of you that wants to slow down, to take things at a pace he’s comfortable with, but you don’t have the patience for that. You’re both here, in this moment, and you can feel the insatiable need between you.

You take his hand from your waist and push his fingers into your bikini making his cock twitch in your hand.

A low moan escapes him as you push his fingers to explore you. He slips them through your slickness, his touch tender and commanding as he coaxes you into surrender of the pleasure that’s quickly building inside.

A soft moan escapes your mouth, swallowed by his kiss as every brush of his fingers sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His fingers easily slip inside you pushing to a depth that has you break the kiss with a loud moan, your body arching into him. The feeling is intimate, and intense, each thrust of his fingers making your breath hitch as your heart races. It’s like he knows exactly how to touch you, how to drive you deeper into that state of blissful surrender.

The sight of him with his hair and lashes wet is surreal. You look down at his powerful body, muscles flexing beneath his wet skin, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. It feels like a dream.

Your hand begins firmly stroking his cock and you feel his hard shaft pulse in your grip as he captures your lips again, this time with more urgency, his fingers thrusting into you with a deliberate rhythm, matching the intensity of his kisses.

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady as his kisses grow deeper, more passionate. He suddenly slows his thrusts and pulls back from the kiss, leaving you confused.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy. “Do you want this?”

“Austin, of course” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation and desire. “I want all of you.”

A satisfied grin spreads across his lips, and his fingers move inside you once again with purpose, guiding you to the edge. His thrusts are deliberate, each one sending you spiraling closer and closer until the sensation becomes too much to bear.

The warm water laps against your skin, heightening the pleasure as he unexpectedly makes you come, your body trembling against his as waves of ecstasy wash over you.

He continues to stroke your inner walls as you ride out the orgasm, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling to him breathing softly against his neck. The sensation is overwhelming as he knows just the right way to touch you to have you falling apart.

When you catch your breath, you look into his eyes, the connection between you even stronger now. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper, your voice laced with promise.

Austin’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with longing. “I want that,” he says, his voice carrying a blend of anticipation and vulnerability. “I’m yours.”

You kiss him hard and demanding melting away all his reservations and stroke his cock firmly feeling the way he throbs in your hand, a steady pulse that becomes more urgent with every passing second.

His breath quickens, each inhale sharp and shallow, his chest rising and falling in time with your strokes as you on increase the pace. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the desire, the need building in his gaze.

“Fuck that feels good” he breathes, his voice barely audible over the soft sound of the water.

His body tenses beneath your touch, his hips shifting slightly, pushing into your hand as if he can’t help but seek more. The heat radiating from him intensifies, his cock pulsing harder with every stroke, and you know he’s getting close.

His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he lets out another low groan, his breath coming faster, more ragged.

He groans louder as you continue stroking him, your movements becoming faster, more powerful. His entire body seems to respond, shuddering as the tension coils tighter and tighter within him.

His lips part as he gasps, the sound filled with both pleasure and desperation, and you can feel the way his thighs tense beneath the you, his body teetering on the edge of release.

The moans that begin to escape his lips fuel your own arousal, and you find yourself lost in the moment, wanting nothing more than to bring him the same ecstasy he gave you.

He takes a sharp inhale, his breath catching as his eyes squeeze shut, his whole body trembling with the intensity of it. “Don’t stop “ gasps, his voice strained with need. “I’m gonna come.”

You quicken your movements, your hand gliding feverishly over his length and his hips buck against your hand with each stroke, seeking more as the pleasure surges through him, building to a breaking point.

His thighs tense, his entire body going rigid as he fights to hold back, but it’s clear he’s past the point of no return.

With a final, shuddering moan, Austin’s body locks, and he spills himself into your hand, his release warm as it mixes with the water around you. His hips jerk forward one last time, his cock throbbing in your grip as he lets go completely, the tension draining from his body.

He shudders, his grip on you loosening as the aftershocks ripple through him, leaving him utterly spent and breathless.

When he looks at you it is with pure, unfiltered gratitude in his gaze. “You’re incredible,” he says, clearly still trying to form a coherent thought. “I needed that and I didn’t even know it” he admits.

“When you said that life has unexpected surprises, I thought this was what you meant,” you respond playfully.

Austin grins, running a hand through his damp hair. “Well, I’m definitely surprised. Honestly, I was just trying to impress you today.” He confesses.

His admission catches you off guard, and your heart sinks at his sincerity. He wasn’t even thinking this would happen; he just wanted to make a good impression.

“Austin your so kind I didn’t mean to…” your words trail off, suddenly feeling self-conscious, but his warm smile eases your worry.

“I wanted you,” he says, his voice taking on a seductive tone, his eyes gleaming with unspoken desire.

His expression turns serious for a moment as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “Stay the night?”he asks, his voice is soft, but his intentions are undeniable.

“I thought that’s what you meant when you said the view looks better at night,” you reply playfully leaning in pressing your chest to his.

“It is now,” he says with a grin, his lips brushing yours as a mischievous look plays on his face.

Night Life

After you shower, you find Austin dressed in a white short-sleeved tee and light denim jeans in a king ropes trucker hat. He smiles softly and takes your hand, leading you to spend the afternoon together.

You sit beside him at the piano, resting your head against his shoulder, while he plays a gentle melody, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. Every now and then, he glances at you with a warm smile, and you can’t help but feel completely at ease.

Later, as you relax on the couch, your head resting in his lap, he reads aloud from a book, his voice calm and soothing as his fingers gently run along the pages. The afternoon feels timeless, just the two of you savoring the quiet moments.

A private chef arrives, setting up in the kitchen to prepare dinner. You and Austin pause for a moment to watch, sharing a glance as the delicious dishes covering the table

Before long, Zendaya, Timothée, and Florence return from their hike, looking famished. When everyone is ready, you all sit down together to enjoy gulyás, a traditional Hungarian goulash.

Alongside the meal, you all sip on pálinka, a strong fruit brandy that adds a touch of warmth to the afternoon.

The conversation flows easily, laughter filling the air as you share stories and enjoy each other’s company.

After the meal, with everyone full and a little tipsy, Florence grins and suggests,

“Why don’t we head out to a local spot and dance the night away?” Zendaya quickly pulls out her phone, finding a popular bar called Insta Fogas that’s known for its lively atmosphere. She opens the Bolt app, calling a car for all of you.

Before long, you’re walking along Kazinczy Street, where the nightlife buzzes with energy. Austin holds your hand, walking ahead as he leads you. He glances back at you occasionally with a playful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

Once inside Insta Fogas, the music pulses through the air, and the group wastes no time getting on the dance floor. You all take shots of Unicum, a famous Hungarian herbal liqueur, before dancing to the beats of Fluor Tomi, one of Hungary’s most popular rappers. The night becomes a whirlwind of music, laughter, and movement as you lose yourself in the moment.

With Austin by your side, his arm around your waist as you dance together, it feels like the best night of your life. You don’t want it to end, this perfect blend of freedom, joy, and connection making you wish the night could last forever.

You all return to the villa around 1 a.m., with Timothée shouting wildly as he bursts through the front doors.

Without hesitation, he strips off his designer shirt, then kicks off his socks and shoes, and sprints straight to the pool.

The loud splash sends water flying everywhere, making Zendaya and Florence collapse into each other, laughing uncontrollably. Timothée comes up for air, yelling in excitement and splashing around wildly.

“Get in here!” he calls out playfully to them but they are still unable to contain their laughter at his spontaneity.

You and Austin sink into the couch together, the warmth of the drinks settling heavily in your veins. He takes off his King Ropes hat and runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair, tousling it slightly before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

His body feels warm against yours, a comforting presence as you both relax into the quiet of the moment, enjoying the stillness of the night.

“Look at the view,” he says gently, nodding toward the large window. You follow his gaze and see the glimmering lights of Budapest spread out before you, the city glowing under the night sky.

“It’s breathtaking,” you whisper in astonishment, your eyes brightening at the stunning sight. When you turn back to Austin, the sparkle in his eyes mirrors the beauty of the city, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

You kiss him deeply, your hands trailing down his chest as he pulls you closer, his mouth molding perfectly to yours with each kiss. His hands slide down your waist, then over your ass, cupping and squeezing as your tongues dance together.

The intensity of the kiss makes the rest of the world fade away, and you don’t even realize the others have left, giving you two a moment of privacy.

Austin breaks the kiss, the sudden quiet catching his attention. He grins, his eyes filled with desire as he whispers, “Come to my room,” his voice low and seductive, his gaze locking with yours.

“Okay,” you whisper back, completely captivated, unable to resist the pull between you.

Once you step into Austin’s room, the first thing you notice is the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the large windows. The light spills across the room, highlighting a four poster bed draped with sheer, flowing curtains.

The furniture is all natural wood, and soft linen fabrics in muted beige tones. The only other light comes from a small lamp in the corner, casting a warm, soft glow. The atmosphere is calm, intimate, and the moonlight makes everything feel almost dreamlike.

Austin takes your hand, his touch warm and gentle as he leads you toward the curtained bed. The moonlight casts soft shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he looks at you. The room feels quiet, intimate, the world outside fading away as he pulls you closer, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Austin sits on the edge of the bed, still holding your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. He looks up at you, the moonlight catching the soft smile on his lips.

“Tonight was perfect,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “I loved every second of it… the laughter, the dancing… just being with you. It was the kind of night you don’t want to end.”

You smile softly, stepping closer until you’re standing right between his legs. “Let’s not think about the night ending now,” you whisper, your hand gently brushing through his hair. “We’re here, together. That’s all that matters.”

Austin’s eyes darken with desire as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with affection. “Just us… right now.”

Your lips capture his in a slow, deep kiss, and you feel his breath hitch as he pulls you even closer. His hands grip your waist, firm but tender, as the kiss deepens, filled with unspoken desire and the lingering thrill of the night.

His fingers trail slowly down your sides, gently pulling at your dress until it slips down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His gaze follows the movement, filled with admiration and desire, before he leans in, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone, his touch both tender and electrifying. The connection between you feels undeniable, the night unfolding with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race.

His mouth moves lower, grazing your nipples with soft, deliberate kisses. Each touch of his lips sends a shiver through you, his breath warm against your skin. His hands steady you as his mouth explores, lingering on the curve of your breast, the intimacy between you deepening with every slow, sensual movement.

You sigh heavily, your breath catching as you hold his shoulders, your fingers gripping him tightly. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts sends waves of pleasure through you, and you can feel the tension building between you both, the anticipation heightening with each moment.

His fingers trace slowly down your back, his touch light sending a shiver up your spine. He moves his fingers with purpose, exploring every curve as his mouth continues its tender assault on your nipples.

His fingers slide lower, gripping your hips, pulling you closer as the heat between you intensifies. Every touch, every movement, feels euphoric, drawing you deeper into the moment.

He slips his fingers beneath fabric of your panties, his fingers brushing against your wetness with a teasing softness. The sensation makes your breath hitch, the closeness between you both becoming even more intimate.

His touch is slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second, and the warmth of his hands against your bare skin sends a flood of desire coursing through you.

You step back, your eyes locked on his, and slowly begin to remove your panties, the air between you charged with anticipation. Austin watches you, his gaze filled with desire, before pulling his shirt over his head in one swift motion. The moonlight casts soft shadows over his toned abs and chest, and for a moment, you both just linger there, taking each other in, the silence heavy with unspoken desire.

He stands, his eyes never leaving yours, and slowly unbuttons his jeans, the sound of the zipper breaking the quiet between you. His movements are deliberate, as he lets his jeans fall to the floor.

You glance down, momentarily breathless, your eyes widening with surprise and admiration at the size of his cock. The sight of him standing naked and erect stirs something deep inside, and you feel a flush of heat rise in your cheeks. Your gaze lifts back to his, the desire between you both intensifying as his lips curve into a knowing smile, aware of the effect he has on you.

He steps closer, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you gently against him, his breath warm on your skin as he leans in, whispering, “I’ve wanted this all night.”

He kisses you deeply, his lips firm and full of need as he guides you back toward the bed. With gentle pressure, he lays you down on the soft sheets, his body hovering above yours. His hand roams over your skin as he leans down, capturing your lips again with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, the connection between you undeniable.

His hand reaches over to the nightstand, retrieving magnum package. He tears it open with a swift, practiced motion, his eyes never leaving yours as he rolls it on his large cock.

“I want to take my time,” he says, his voice low and laced with desire. “I want to savor every moment with you.” He says looking deeply your eyes.

“Of course Austin,” you smile resting your hands gently on his shoulders. He leans in closer pressing his hips down entering you slowly, the sensation of fullness making you gasp softly as your body adjusts to him. The stretch is intense yet incredibly satisfying as he guides his cock deeper inside pressing the weight of his body down on you.

His lips find yours, capturing every breathy sigh with a kiss as he penetrates inch by inch until he settles to the depth that makes you moan in pain. You can feel the deep ache from taking his large size.

“I’m gonna make it feel better” He promises and begins with steady, deliberate thrusts, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, as the pain slowly begins to fade into pleasure.

“Austin..you whimper feeling every deep stroke of his cock.

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm and full of affection. He continues his slow, rhythmic thrusts as his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly along your skin.

His other hand grips your waist, grounding you in the moment as the intensity builds. With each thrust, the connection between you grows deeper, until you feel the tension building to peak, your body responding to his with a growing need.

“Austin …I’m so close” you breath and he responds by increasing his pace making your body arch into his. You can feel your orgasm approaching as your walls begin to flutter around his cock.

His grip tightens, and he moves harder, each thrust more deliberate and powerful than the last. You feel every inch of him, the heat and intensity building between you as the moment reaches its peak, your bodies perfectly in sync as you both near the edge, and then it hits—a wave of pure pleasure crashing over you both.

His body tenses, his grip tightening as he lets out a deep, guttural moan, and you feel the warmth of his release pulse inside you as you moan in pleasure. Your orgasm follows, overwhelming and intense, leaving you breathless as you cling to him, your bodies moving perfectly together at the height of pleasure.

He rests his forehead gently against your shoulder, both of you still catching your breath, wrapped in the warmth of the moment you just shared. Slowly, he pulls back, sliding his cock from your warmth and laying on his side. With a quiet sigh, he slips the condom off, the sound of it snapping softly in the room, and leans over to place it in the bin near the bed.

Once he’s done, he pulls the covers up, wrapping his arms around you, drawing you close so that you’re facing each other. His eyes meet yours with a quiet affection as he brings you both under the blanket.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he whispers, his voice soft and filled with sincerity. A warm smile spreads across his face as his eyes lock onto yours, tender and full of affection. He holds you tightly, his fingers gently tracing slow, comforting circles on your back.

You smile softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, “I’ll be here until the end of the week.” you reveal and there’s a hint of sadness in your voice, knowing your time together is limited.

Austin shifts slightly, pulling you closer, his gaze steady and filled with determination. “Stay with me,” he says, his voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to leave. We can figure it out. I want more time with you… as much as we can get.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Please,” he whispers, looking into your eyes. “Stay a little longer. We’ll make it work.” The sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell, and the thought of leaving suddenly seems impossible.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want that,” you admit softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his chest. “But now… I don’t want to leave either.”

You pause, biting your lip before answering, “Okay. I’ll stay. I don’t know what happens after, but right now, I just want to be here—with you.” Your smile grows as you see the relief and happiness in his eyes, knowing you’ve made the right decision.

He kisses your forehead softly, his lips lingering for a moment. “I want to take you to set tomorrow,” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

You’re flattered and a bit surprised by the offer, before you can respond, he adds with a playful grin, “I’ve been having some wild ideas for the scene I’ll be filming”

Your eyes widen with intrigue “like what?”

He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he says. “Licking a knife to test its sharpness … while wearing a ceremonial loincloth.”

There’s a brief pause, the absurdity of the image hanging in the air, and then both of you burst into laughter, the sound filling the quiet room. He pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you tightly as the laughter fades and his smile remains soft and content.

The warmth between you lingers, and soon you find yourselves drifting off to sleep together, perfectly at ease in each other’s arms.

🧳 End 🧳

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[seungfl0wer]

*𝑺𝒏𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑹𝒖𝒏*

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, however this is a bit short. Sorry for any mistakes.

These were Requested from my prompt list 11: “How’d you know?” And 54: “wait- you said yes?”

-🖤

It was pretty late but here you were sitting by the river with some snacks with your bestie. He had texted you earlier asking if you wanted to go for a late food run with him. You guys went to your go to spot by the river. It was always so peaceful at this time too, only really hearing the sounds of the water. You sat beside him on the ground as you both munched on some snacks watching the people pass by. Talking about anything and everything as always.

“Do you think we could swim across the river?” He asked making you laugh. “Probably why don’t you try it” you teased nudging his arm. He rolled his eyes at you as he shoved a piece of sandwich in his mouth. As it was getting later it started to get a bit colder out making you shiver. “I should have brought my jacket” you say moving closer to jeongin. He turned his head a bit trying not to show that he was blushing. “Want mine?” He asked already taking it off. He was always so kind, a gentleman if you will.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold though?” You asked tilting your head a bit. He shook his head handing it to you. You gladly took it putting it on and sighing happily feeling the warmth. “Ooh it smells like your cologne.” you said smiling.

He coughs clearing his throat trying to bring his mind back. His heart fluttered looking at you wearing his hoodie. The way your eyes shinned with the moonlight and that smile of yours that just lit everything up. You really just made his mind a puddle.

“Ew look at those people” he said pointing at a couple sucking face on the bridge. He chuckled awkwardly. You laughed back “that could be us” you said smirking not making eye contact with him. His heart thudded, hearing it thump in his ears. If his face wasn’t already a bit red from blushing earlier it’s definitely red now. He turned to you with wide eyes. “W-what did you say?” He asked his voice a bit shaky.

“I said. That could be us. But you won’t ask me out” you shrugged a bit. His mind was going a mile a minute “what.. what do you mean” he stuttered out. You rolled your eyes “what do you mean what do I mean, you’ve liked me for how long now right?” You said turning your head. A couple months ago, while talking to his mom she told you about how he liked you. ‘I wish he’d get the courage to date you already, he’s been saying he’s gonna ask you out for like a year or so now’ she admitted.

It made your heart melt knowing he felt the same way towards you. You’ve been crushing on him ever since you met him. I mean how couldn’t you? He was so kind, funny and was always there for you when you needed him. “How’d you find out..” he said softly looking at you but as you met his gaze he almost franticly looked away.

“Your mom told me, but I kinda had a feeling” you said with a smile. He felt almost an out of body experience. His mind racing but also almost blank he wanted to say so much but also couldn’t say anything. “I- and what if I’d ask you out then?” He said his words fumbling as they left his lips.

“I’d say yes dummy” you said with a hum. His eyes were widened as he looked at you now “wait- you’d say yes??” He said back almost not being able to believe what you just said. “God you’re unbelievable sometimes” you chuckled “of course I’d say yes, I’ve liked you for a while too” you admitted.

As if those words pulled him in his brain felt like it finally short circuited. His body moved without thinking and he kissed you. You both felt surprise from the action non the less though kissing back. When he pulled away you both just stared at each other for a moment. Before he broke the silence “Will you go out with me? Be my girlfriend?” He said finally. “I- I’ve liked you for awhile but I’ve been to scared to say anything” he admitted “but god do I wanna be your boyfriend, to be able to kiss you like that all the time and see you all cute in my clothes” his mouth was now going non stop.

Rambling everything out as he talked. You couldn’t help but smile leaning back into kiss him. You both melted into each other’s touch blush across your face. “That was a nice way of getting me to shut up” he chuckled. “I’d love to be your girlfriend innie” you said eyes locked with his. They sparkled so bright like they were the stars in the sky above.

“Really!” He said it coming out so fast. “Yes dummy really” you said rolling your eyes. As you both sat there you laid your head on his shoulder as he slowly reached for your hand. “Y/n I’m happy to finally have you as mine” he said softly. “I’m happy to finally be yours innie” you said in almost a whisper.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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[stormhearty]

Pairings: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Triggers: pregnancy trope, longing, mention of death, thoughts of suicide, blood, baby’s death, open-ended ending

Summary: Hiraeth definition: “homesickness, longing, nostalgia and a wistful desire for something irretrievably lost.” It had been several years since your passing, one that he cursed the Mother and the Gods for. Now he wanders the world, endless and lost, waiting for the day you would whisper in his ears to come home — home to you.

Note: From this request! Thank you @soulsansang (I cannot tag you for the life of me), for sending this request! I fought every urge to connect this to my Seer!Reader fics. The idea of hiraeth fit perfectly with a mourning Azriel; however, I needed something else. Needed an Azriel who was mourning not because of his actions, but due to unforeseen circumstances that fate seemed to have placed him in. I’m sorry for the “pregnancy trope”, I didn’t think I would be writing this one like this. If you do not like that trope, I completely understand and I respect you not reading this. But I do hope you enjoy, and I hope it fills the angst and sadness that you had requested!

“Azriel~!”

He looked over his shoulder, his name echoing in his ears, as he stepped out of his apartment and into the pouring rain. Dull hazel eyes stared at the gray skies as the rain poured down, relentless and unforgiving.

It had been days since this rain had started, and it seemed as if it would never stop. It was torrent, heavy with the mix of strong that howled through the empty alleyways. Valeris was almost like an abandoned city — its inhabitants were locked indoors due to the storm that shook its walls.

Azriel’s form shuddered, the wetness seeping into his clothes. He barely wore something that would keep him warm in such icy weather — a simple black jacket, a long-sleeved tee hidden underneath, and black jeans. His leather shoes were soaked in the rain as he stepped into another puddle, not caring that the wetness soaked into his feet.

He walked through the deserted city, only a few who braved the torrential storm were running through the streets. Those out looked at the Spymaster with confusion and worry, but none voiced them out loud — he wouldn’t have listened anyway.

He had one destination — and he would make it there — despite the storm.

Stepping across the Sindra River, the cobblestone bridge was overrun by the river below. Waters crashed upon slowly decaying rocks, splashing over the sides and onto the bridge. Traversing it might seem impossible for any normal Fae, but for Azriel, it was easy.

He stepped onto the bridge, not minding how the cold waters of the river splashed onto him. He paused, at the arch of the bridge, leaning over the stoney rail to look at those rapid waters that raced down the riverbend. They crashed and crescented over rocks, splashing against everything and anything that stood in its way — and the downpour only amplified the river’s maelstrom.

Azriel looked into the waters below him, barely making out his reflection in them. He blinked out the water that tricked into his eyes, and when he looked back down into his reflection — instead he found a familiar figure — hair blowing in the raging wind, eyes looking up at him, hand reached out as if to tempt him into those frigid cold waters below him.

It was tempting, to say the least, the call to be submerged into the depths of the river, to feel the icy liquid deep into his skin — and make the river his grave.

He couldn't help it — the image was like a siren with its sailors, tempting them to their end. Leaning across the cobblestone rail, he leaned down — down into the depths of the water. Azriel had every mindset, every want to drown in that very river.

However, he felt his body pause, as if a tiny hand tugged on his shoulder — a child’s laugh echoing in his ears.

His body snapped up, his head whipping over his shoulder, frantically looking around, only to stop. Eyes noticed a fallen blue-violet on the drenched cobblestone. Azriel felt his body go rigid at the flower, remembering what it had meant. He turned around and knelt, shaky hands reaching down to pick up the soaked flower. He felt his eyes prickle with tears as he turned it in his hand, before bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss on the petals, standing up and pocketing it.

Dull hues stared at the river below him, noticing his reflection once more — and not the mirage that tempted him to death. A frown tugged on the edge of his blue-tinged lips before making his way across the bridge once more, the call of death barely whispering in his ears.

He turned, his feet bringing him off paved grounds into a mud-soaked one. The mud squished underneath his feet. He weaved through familiar trees, and as he delved further into the forest the canopy above him blocked the gray skies above, the pitter-patter of rain on soil lessening. There, underneath the canopy, Azriel shook his wings out — the rain that had drenched his wings flying off in droplets. He raised a hand, running through soak locks, pushing them back away from his face. He fixed his jacket, dusting off the moisture from its soaked fabric before he continued walking.

Hazel hues saw the familiar clearing, watching as the downpour continued to drench the soil in its never-ending attack. He stood at the edge of the clearing, hues staring up at the sky once more. He silently cursed the Mother and the Gods above for this rain — all he wanted was to see the clear skies for once.

Azriel stepped into the clearing, the rain drenching his clothes once more — not that he minded anyway.

He stepped into the middle of the clearing where a lone headstone stood. A simple one, nothing to extravagant. Azriel felt his heart race in his chest as he got closer to the headstone.

Azriel kneeled in front of the headstone, a tearful gaze as he read the words that were etched onto the stone: Here lies (Y/N), the wonderful wife of Azriel. Mother of their unborn child. May the Mother and Gods bring her safe passage to the Havens.

It had been two years since he had to bury your body, along with your unborn child.

The Mother was cruel to him.

You and Azriel had been married for over three centuries — his life was full of color, full of happiness and full of love. You were everything to Azriel. He would miss you when he went to missions, kiss you silly when he got home from said missions; he would spend lazy time with you, your head on his lap or vice versa — just spending time with each other. And for those three centuries, both of you had tried for a child, but because Fae menstrual cycles were so sporadic, it had been difficult.

But two years ago, your miracle baby happened.

“Azriel!”

Azriel turned around after shutting the door to your apartment, only to catch your body that flung towards his way.

“Hey love,” he greeted you, a chuckle escaping his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, looking down and noticing how your head tucked into his chest. He could feel your excitement vibrate through your body and he couldn't help but wonder what had gotten you so happy.

But at that moment, he just leaned down and pressed a kiss on the crown of your head, watching your head tilt up to look at him, your eyes shining.

“What is it?” he hummed out with a raised brow.

He watched as you bit your lower lip, fighting the smile that tugged at the edge of your lips.

“You know how I have been feeling unwell the past few weeks…” you had started off.

Azriel hummed out, shifting you in his arms so that you were at his side, his arm wrapped around your waist before leading you into the kitchen. He maneuvered you around, grasping your waist and lifting you with ease onto the countertop next to the stove.

“Azriel!!” You shrieked in surprise, your hands grasping his shoulders to stretch yourself.

He smirks up at you, settling himself between your legs, “Now what were you saying, love?”

He watched you huff softly before continuing your story, “Well I went to Madja earlier today and I told her of my symptoms—-”

“Nausea, headaches, bloating…” he listed off.

Azriel knew your symptoms, it had worried him to the max. Both of you didn't know what had happened — he was worried about some sort of poisoning… he thought of the worst-case scenarios. And you had to be the one to calm him down from those spiraling thoughts.

You hummed and nodded your head, “Well… it looks like you didn't have to be so worried about that poisoning scenario, my love…” you whispered as you leaned down to press your forehead against his.

He felt your hands slide down his shoulders, down his arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Azriel always loved how you touched him — there was no hesitancy in the way you held him, touched him — whether it he sexual or intimate. You had always initiated touching him and now, he can't live without your hands or body near his own.

He felt your hands grip his own, sliding then to your lower abdomen, pressing his hands against the soft skin.

“… I’m pregnant, Azzie…”

Your words were a whisper and Azriel felt his eyes widen at the words that had left your lips. He stared up at you and watched as your eyes sparkle light the night sky at your confession.

Hazel hues looked up at you before sliding down your body to where your hand lay over his own. A wide smile tugged on his lips before he slipped his hands away from your own, cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

He poured everything into that kiss — all his love for you and this unborn child.

When his lungs screamed for air, he was content with pressing kisses on your skin while you giggled, feeling your hands run through his hair.

“We’ll be having a child…” he whispered in disbelief.

He heard you let out a hum, feeling your head nod, “Yes we are… after centuries… our beautiful child…”

Every word that you whispered was full of happiness, adoration, and excitement. He knew, from hearing you speak, that you'd be a wonderful mother… one that would dote on that child.

He was elated — after centuries of both of you trying, watching your family build their own little families — Azriel was worried that both of you would never be blessed with a child. Yet now, the Mother seemed to rain her fortune on the both of you.

But deep within him, worry festered like mold, slowly growing. He worried about the complications — he heard about it with Rhysand and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian. And he worried for you — and all he could pray to the Mother that you would be spared from it.

“What color should the baby’s room be?”

Azriel hummed and raised a brow, turning his head to gaze at you. He fought back a smile — he had found you so adorable. You had waddled, your belly large protruding your tiny stature. Your hand tucked in the crook of his elbow protectively.

Azriel had ensured you were in good hands during your pregnancy; and that he would always prioritize your health and safety. He would never let you go out without him, either himself or his shadows. He always had a hand on you — whether it be around your waist or, like now, your hand tucked into his elbow.

Your features glowed despite the exhaustion he knew you felt — you had looked so beautiful during your whole pregnancy and Azriel worshiped you like the Goddess you were to him.

He watched as your gaze went up to him, your head tilting slightly at the look he gave you. Azriel shook his head, “You know I'd be biased if you asked me, love…” he answered.

Azriel would choose blue, even if it was a girl or a boy, his siphon colors would be that room’s color.

He watched as you rolled your eyes, and felt your hand pat his forearm, “Why am I not surprised that, out of all the colors, you’d choose your siphon?”

The two of you walked into the paint shop, the doorbell ringing above you. You were greeted by a Fae, one who was shocked and nervous to meet the Spymaster and his wife.

Azriel patted your hand and slipped your hand from his elbow, “Go ahead my loves… I'll be here…” He watched you smile before following the Fae to the color room, and he watched with adoration.

“You can't leave me, (Y/N)…” he sobbed, grasping your flaccid hand in his, pressing a kiss on cold skin.

The room was deathly still, his sobs echoing in the loud shared room.

You had gone into labor hours ago, and that labor… was difficult on your weak body. The babe, as Madja had warned you and Azriel all those months ago, had taken a toll on your body. You had been sick and bedridden for most of the pregnancy — Madja had stressed for you to terminate the pregnancy — it was either you or the baby.

Azriel had fought for you to terminate the pregnancy; begged and cried you to.

He could live without the unborn child but without you?

Never.

He watched you cry, begged him to let you keep the babe — he listened to your bargains, and promises; he listened to you cry in the night whispering to the baby all the while rubbing your stomach.

He watched everything… but he couldn't lose you.

But you had been stubborn, wanting to keep the pregnancy — pushing it to term — despite the consequences of it.

And so when you went into labor, the amount of blood you lost… was too much for Madja to replenish with her powers. The baby that was born was already too blue to try to bring back alive. Azriel was by your side the whole labor, watching you push your body to the brink — all for the child.

He felt your pulse slow underneath his fingertips, his hazel eyes frantically trying to find yours as he watched them roll backwards.

“No…No!” he yelled, dropping your hand onto the mattress and cupping your cheeks, “My love… (Y/N)…” he whispered, leaning in to press his forehead against yours, trying to pull you from the call of death.

Azriel watched you smile up at him, your eyes focusing on him, crescenting as you looked up at him, “…Azzie…” you whispered.

He fought back tears as he nodded his head, “Hey, my love, yes, I’m here… I’m here…”

“I’m sorry…”

It was as if you knew… this would be the outcome of your decision.

“No… Don’t be sorry… Please don’t… Just… Please don’t leave me… You can’t leave me…”

He watched as your eyes roll again and he brought your face closer to his own, watching them focus on him again, “…I don’t want to… But, I’m so tired Az…”

Azriel felt a heart wrenching sob escape his throat. His thumb caressed your pulse point, feeling it slow more. He looked up at his High Lord and the Healer and both of them looked at him with a somber look.

A shake from his High Lord gave his answer.

The tears finally fell, as he looked back at you — and you back up at him. He watched your brows furrow in confusion as you stared at him.

All he did was shake his head, leaning down to press one final kiss on your lips.

“Sleep… My love… if you’re tired. I’ll wait for you to wake up…”

He felt you take one last breath, a smile tugging on your lips as you whispered, “I love you, Az…”

Azriel felt your body go limp in the bed, your head roll back and your pulse stop completely. He watched your eyes dull, that smile still on your features.

His body shook, and tears never ended as he pulled your body into his arms, cradling your head as he let out a cry, pressing his face into the crook of your neck — the final time he’d ever feel you against him.

Azriel never thought heart break would be so painful.

He stared at the tombstone, pulling out of his thoughts and memories to reach down and caress the marble stone.

“… Hi my love…” he greeted you, like usual, “It’s raining again… It seems that Valeris is in a typhoon of rain recently…”

Azriel sat himself down on the muddy ground, not caring if the mud and rain soaked through his clothes again.

He had sat there, talking to you about his day, what had happened recently with the family, what was going on with Valeris and Prythian in general. He talked for hours until he felt his voice go sore and his body shake due to the cold from the rain, but he didn’t leave… not until the skies turned dark.

Azriel laid himself down on the patch of dirt in front of your grave, laying on his back as he stared up at the sky. It seemed the rain ceased and the beautiful starry skies of Valeris peaked through the rain clouds.

He watched the stars twinkle, before a shooting star blazed through the sky before another one — much smaller — followed it.

“…Was that you, (Y/N)?” he whispered, thinking that those two fallen stars were you and the child, reaching out to him from the Havens above.

Azriel had been searching for signs, for the past two years of any sign of you in the Havens. Looking for signs that you were calling for him — looking for him. All he wanted to know was that you were out there.

And that shooting star was it.

He smiled and closed his eyes, “I’m coming back home to you…”

[babyflorencee]

Jealousy

Gilbert Blythe x fem!Reader

The sun dipped below the rolling hills of Avonlea, casting an amber glow across the landscape. Gilbert Blythe, with his characteristic disheveled hair and thoughtful gaze, strolled through the orchard, a place that had witnessed the blossoming of friendships and the unveiling of tangled emotions.

Avonlea was abuzz with preparations for the upcoming fair, a festivity Y/n L/n held dear in her heart. As Gilbert walked past the vibrant stalls and fluttering banners, he couldn't help but notice the vivacity in Y/n's step, her eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm that painted the world in hues of her imagination.

Yet, beneath Gilbert's calm exterior, a storm brewed. A quiet jealousy, like an unexpected visitor, had taken residence in his heart. It wasn't the kind born out of malice but rather a realization of the changing dynamics between them.

Yln, oblivious to the tempest within Gilbert, happily chatted with Cole and Diana, her laughter weaving into the summer breeze. As Gilbert observed from a distance, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on the periphery of her universe.

His heart, usually steady as the Avonlea river, now raced with an unfamiliar cadence. Why did he feel this way? Gilbert grappled with the turmoil, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the fair's prize ribbon he held.

Later that day, under the canopy of stars, Gilbert found himself by the bridge, a place where moments unfolded like chapters in a story. The rhythmic sound of cicadas filled the air as Y/n approached, her gaze alighting upon Gilbert's contemplative silhouette.

"Hey, Gil. Are you alright?" Y/n inquired, a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

The words struggled to find their way out of Gilbert's mouth, but the truth, as elusive as it was, demanded expression. "Y/n, do you ever feel like things are changing, and you're not sure where you fit in anymore?"

Y/ns brow furrowed, a reflection of her confusion. "Change is a constant, Gilbert. But you'll always have a place in my heart. In my world." With the last sentence that left her mouth, her eyes softened, feeling sadness for the boy standing by her.

His heart, still entangled with vines of uncertainty, yearned for more. With a breath held in the quiet night, Gilbert spoke the words that fluttered within. "Y/n, it's not just about the changing world. It's about me, about us. It's about what we could possibly be. I can't stand on the sidelines anymore, y/n. I want to be more than a distant star in your sky."

It was a balm to Gilbert's restless heart, and yet, a lingering question remained unspoken. As they stood on the bridge, the moon casting its silver glow upon the water, the bond between them seemed to shimmer with an understanding beyond words.

Y/n's eyes widened, finally realizing the gravity of his confession. "Gilbert..."

Before she could say more, he took a step closer, his hand cupping her cheek. "I can't hold back any longer," he admitted, and in the soft glow of moonlight, he kissed her.

Their lips met, a silent promise of untold emotions and uncharted paths. The orchard witnessed the quiet culmination of a friendship blossoming into something more, as the stars overhead continued their timeless dance. In that stolen moment, Gilbert and Y/n discovered a new chapter in the story of Avonlea—a chapter written with ink that glistened with unspoken feelings.

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

Whenever they drive into town, arguing over who sits where and spilling buckets of strawberries all over the floor, the music blasts so loudly on the horrible, tinny speakers that it vibrates the entire van, and still the group of them is so loud that the songs get drowned out anyway. It is especially worse if, Nico will admit, he and Chiara are in the front seats together, whatever argument they delight in having raising New York’s noise pollution levels by four percent at least. If there is enough fruit to warrant two vans, and all sixteen of them will go, they will race down the highway, drowning each other out with the pure force of their shrieking voices. People stare. Cars slow to a stop. Cars follow them, even, mouths open, wondering at these grinning, hollering fools, dressed in neon and crawling all over each other.

It has been a long time since Nico has driven in silence.

Even as a child there was noise. No radios in cars, yet, they’d hardly been invented, but he and Bianca would scarcely be within miles of each other without bickering. Crowded in the backseat of Nonno’s Alfa Romeo, shouting for Mama in between even every poked shoulder and shoved face, there was noise. In the backseat of Alecto’s SUV, too, muffled as it was, and in every car he raced at the Lotus. Even up front with Jules-Albert, there has always been something. Grumbling, usually, live Grand-Prix reporting if the season is right. Music if he is in a good mood and Nico can convince him.

The silence that rings from the coast of Long Island to the bridge over the Savannah River is unbearable. Even the van is unbelievably quiet, rusted shocks creakless and ancient engine quiet as a grave. As if it too is straining to hear the words Will is murmuring, over and over again, nonstop for hours; hunched over with his hands clasped and pressed to the bridge of his nose.

Nico knows the Lord’s prayer in five languages. He hasn’t spoken it in years, but it’s stuck in his brain the same way as the alphabet; he knows the rhythm, the place of every breath, the rise and fall of the words as they crest towards the heavens. Prayers go unanswered at the best of times, trickling down the soil and bedrock and gathering in the currents of the Styx, but Will prays like he is programmed to do it. Like it is all he has left to do. They leave in the grey peak of the afternoon and drive through the night, and the kids sleep in the back, and Will prays across the freeways, over the bridges, through the gas stations, straight through traffic. His voice scratches and fades and he does not stop, the tears roll down his cheeks and bubble into his mouth and he does not stop, the twisted-in hymns glow along every peek of sunlight, burning his throat and his hands, and he does not stop. He prays like the dying in line to be judged, like the weeping shades along the stone walkways of Asphodel, like the desolate on the bank of the River. He prays like he knows it is already over, and he is desperate for the strength to move forward.

When they pull into the parking lot it is late morning, and Nico has been driving for fifteen hours, and the sun is cowering behind black dirt stormclouds, and the heat is as oppressively constant as the Pit. Nico feels like he is standing at the mouth of something cavernous. Staring down sharp teeth and a maw the size of an island. He feels like he is teetering, balancing, tipping; like the single point on the ground moments before lightning strikes it. Close your eyes and hold out your hands. What is coming next is inescapable.

“Do we go in?”

Kayla’s voice is timid. It is never timid, and it jolts his obliques and abdominis into action, into stretching. She holds hands with her brother, and they are pressed shoulder to shoulder, eyes wide, mouths set brave and trembling,

and they are pressed shoulder to shoulder

eyes wide

mouths set brave and trembling

his ankle is twisted around hers

her skull ring knicks the flesh of his ring finger

her hands are cool

her voice is steady

her body shakes.

Where are you taking us? We would like to go home, please. Can we call our mother?

“Let’s go find Mama,” Nico hears himself say. Sees Will’s hands twitch. Watches Kayla flinch in the rearview. Feels Austin’s leg bounce the van.

His mouth feels like sand, like worn denim. Dry, desert sand, desert sand; Nevada air through the open window.

“Mama,” Will echoes. He chokes. His whole body shudders, shudders, compresses; shrinks down, mouth still moving. Knuckles white. “Mama.”

Nico swallows.

“Kayla,” says his mouth, “take your brother to go pay parking.” Take your brother inside. Wait for me; I’ll be back soon. Don’t leave the hotel. “Here.”

He hands her his father’s card, and she takes it, untangling from Austin but keeping their hands joined when he grabs for her. The van door wrenches open because the tracks are rusty and Nico jumps with it, exhaling past Kayla’s muttered apologies, waiting for the two of them to climb out and hurry across the asphalt. Huddle at the parking meter, poking at the button.

Nico opens his door and climbs out, shutting it carefully, walking calmly around the front of the van. He opens Will’s door and it doesn’t move, locked, so it waits, and when Will makes no move to pull the little lever he reaches around the door Kayla left open, pulling it himself. The door swings widely open, bouncing slightly on its hinges, and Will doesn’t so much as flinch, doesn’t so much as glance towards it.

Nico reaches out, slowly, and takes his clenched hands.

They’re wet.

He peels back his clenched fingers, one by one, and they are stiff, formed to shape. He takes a moment to straighten them, carefully, slowly, until his palms rest upwards again, fingers limp. When he presses their palms together Will’s fingers twitch, ever so slightly, around his, and he drags their hands up to his mouth and presses his knuckles to his lips, tasting the salt, tasting the iron of his cracked chapped skin. Will’s hand twitches, again, and his face matches; contorting and crumpling and breaking, for a second.

“Will,” he murmurs, salt like the coast, like Nonna’s villa, like the water slide, “Will, look at me.”

He does. He looks to him like he’s dragging himself like he is clawing his own way upright.

“I can’t again,” he croaks, “I —” and he stops, or rather he is cut off, by the sob that fights it’s way out of his throat. It is sharp like skull fragments. Some part of Nico bleeds.

“You won’t.” He drops Will’s hand and clasps instead both sides of his face, pulling him down until their foreheads press tightly together, until their breathing shares the same space, until he can feel every shudder against his skull. “We will save her.”

As he says it Nico knows he will make it so. Kayla and Austin run back to the van, ticket clenched in both of their hands, Will squeezes his eyes shut and nods, once, before sitting straighter than he has in hours, and Nico knows that he will not let Will lose.

Not again.

———

next

[rabbitcruiser]

Racing River, BC (No. 2)

The Stone's sheep (Ovis dalli stonei) or stone sheep is the more southern subspecies of thinhorn sheep, Ovis dalli.

The global population of Stone's sheep is primarily found in Northern British Columbia and can often be seen licking minerals along the side of the Alaska Highway in areas such as Summit Lake, Stone Mountain Provincial Park, and Muncho Lake Provincial Park.

Pelage colour variations range widely, from slate grey-brown with a white rump patch, dark tail and white on the inside of the hind legs, to an almost completely white/grey-white coat with a dark or black dorsal surface on the tail. Horns are curved in form and vary in colour from a yellowish-brown to dark brown horns.

Source: Wikipedia

[bonefall]

Mapleshade Discourse O'Clock

It's that time again!!! SO I just kinda want to jot down all of my various thoughts about it as a story and just generally weigh in about Mapleshade.

I like the idea of Mapleshade more than the actual Mapleshade that is used throughout the books.

She has a really good gimmick-- to haunt Applekin though the generations. I don't like how they turn her into a generic "cat satan" for Tigerclaw's Fury and keep making her appear as a vain lackey demon.

I like her characterization in Mapleshade's Vengeance the most, of all her appearances.

But, I don't think my reading of the character depicted in MV is what the author intended.

See, I like MV as a story with no hero. The only blameless characters are the kittens who drowned and Perchpaw, while everyone else is some flavor of selfish, cruel, or vengeful. Everyone thinks they're in the right, but no one truly wins in the end.

Nothing about it was noble. Every tragedy that happened was utterly avoidable. In the end, everyone bears some responsibility for the pain and suffering that happened the day those children drowned.

BUT I'm pretty certain that the intended reading was that Mapleshade would be the one clearly in the wrong the whole time, as she justifies her own actions like a villain does.

Especially knowing how poorly the writers thought of similar female characters like Squilf and Leafp lying about the three, or Nightcloud being jealous her crummy husband is acting strange around another woman.

I feel justified in assuming that when Mapleshade is not happy she's being cheated on, or when she refuses to correct Frecklewish's record knowing it's unsafe if her kits are revealed as half clan, the writer really does think you're not supposed to take her side.

Because women should just not have emotions about being cheated on or something, and lying is unspeakably bad even if the truth puts you and your children in danger.

But. Y'know. We can all use the braincell for a moment and see that this is fucking stupid

SO when the book goes on to have Mapleshade ignore all the warnings about the swollen river, show both ThunderClan and RiverClan being obscenely cruel to her, and then walk across that bridge while insisting in her head that the deaths weren't her fault, I think the implication is obvious AND SHITTY.

Ergo I reject it completely. I can see what the book wants to say, and I think it says something trashy.

In spite of how badly the writer wants it to be Mapleshade's fault the kittens died, I say it was the asshole who threw a bunch of kittens out into the rain for being mixed race, actually.

Oakstar had the power here. Ravenwing had some power as well, but he makes it clear it wasn't his suggestion to throw the babies out into the woods.

And when it comes to Bridge Discourse, it was at least the afternoon, raining heavily, and Mapleshade was trying to get to RiverClan Camp. A straight shot across the stepping stones.

I think it is ridiculous to imagine an extremely emotional parent managing three very scared children, attempting to get out of the rain and dangerous wilderness before nightfall, would be rational enough to realize a large detour would be safer.

MAYBE the distance from ThunderClan Camp to the Bridge is equal to the distance to the Stones. But the distance between the bridge and RIVERCLAN Camp is longer.

I hope this goes without saying; but Frecklewish didn't deserve the Dark Forest.

Even in Banana World logic where she was sitting on the bank watching those kids doggy-paddle. Do not fucking jump in to save drowning people if you are not trained to do that.

I'm dead serious, this is the first thing you learn in any kind of water safety course. They WILL panic, you WILL get dragged down, you WILL become another liability someone else has to save instead of helping your initial target.

And that isn't even mentioning this being a flooded river. That's POOL safety.

In spite of how I think Mapleshade was right to lie, I do think Frecklewish being that upset and angry was understandable.

You're entitled to your feelings, but not how you treat people. She still attacked Mapleshade and called the kittens a slur.

That's what makes her interesting, though.

I don't think she deserves the Dark Forest, but Frecklewish's anger is an interesting trait. I don't like how a lot of defensive interpretations of her character end up downplaying how she acted at the exile

why does a woman being rightfully angry suddenly strike people as "unsympathetic." Girls can also say things in fury they don't fully mean. OR girls can rationalize their unjustified, ballistic response post-hoc out of pride.

Idk let girls be mad. Admit they were wrong without deserving HELL. I don't like the woobification impulse.

It's not really a hot take anymore I think, but Frecklewish is definitely only in the DF because the writing team judges women characters more harshly. Oakstar threw babies out in the rain in fury, and Ravenwing didn't stop it. But somehow only Frecklewish, a normal warrior, gets DF'd.

But what really rattles around in my head about the whole story is the way that the in-universe culture is able to suddenly value ethics like peace, forgiveness, and tolerance when MAPLESHADE is ready to throw those things out, but BEFORE then, it's well established that Clan culture is violent, vengeful, and intolerant.

One of our earliest scenes is Rainfall snarling at Mapleshade that he loves the way Birchface and Flowerpaw drowned. He's threatening that he'll kill even more ThunderClan warriors.

Over in ThunderClan, everyone is itching for revenge against Appledusk for those deaths, even though it seems to have been an accident. Oakstar even hates RiverClan well into sequel books for this.

But then later on, everyone acts Shocked Pikachu that Mapleshade actually went and GOT revenge.

And like, let's be real. This is a battle culture. Yes, by OUR standards Revenge Is Bad.

But in these books, so full of war and clan conflict...?

What I'm saying is that I wish the books let Mapleshade be a little more "controversial" in-universe. Like some cats actually frame the story very differently, and you can learn a lot about a person by who they think the hero is.

And how RiverClan responds to the drowned kids bugs me a lot tbh

We just established over in ThunderClan that there are people who think the babies were born filthy for being HalfClan.

We know everyone there stood by and watched as Oakstar threw them out into the rain-- only Ravenwing even seemed uncomfortable.

AND we know very well that in a few generations, TigerClan will rise. Which openly executed a HalfClan cat and wanted to kill 2 apprentices.

We KNOW the bigotry in Clan culture is deadly and unfair.

But then they go over to RiverClan and Darkstar is sad these three kids are dead? And RC is furious with Mapleshade for that?

Again, YES, you and me with OUR morals know that this bigotry is insane and spiteful. What I'm getting at is that IN-UNIVERSE half clan kittens and their parents face extreme discrimination. Even within this book.

It's odd to me that Darkstar refuses to let Mapleshade bury their bodies, sends her away for the death of the kids while saying it's "not the season for losing warriors" to Appledusk, and it's meant to come across as delusional that Maple thinks her babies were buried dishonorably

I wish more women in WC got so pissed off at the absolute injustice of it all that they went on a girl rampage. Perhaps it's my own taste, but I like it a lot more when the villain isn't entirely wrong and there's several angles you can read the story from. If she didn't do what she did, she would have been the only one who saw any consequences for anything that happened.

Anyway in conclusion uhhh idk murder is wrong. But Mapleshade's allowed to do it because she's a silly billy. Her greatest crime was not killing Oakstar also

[death---dealer]

Chimp Mosh Pit. ( Noa x Human! Reader. ) Part 10.

*Bad Ape voice* ohhhhh noooooo.

Title: Chimp Mosh Pit. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Violence, weapons used, Ape Aggression, mentions of blood, intense moments of being on deaths door step. Good luck. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 7.1K+ Summary: Remember when you said Death brought new beginnings? READ THE SERIES HERE.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

There was one thing that was clearer than the river Noa and you enjoyed time and time again as a peaceful offering between Echo and Ape. Something that ran through the land like splitting opinions, slicing its torrent edges against an already weak sediment, taking advantage of the submission of dirt and claiming it as their own with a flush of moisture; a fighter in its own way that was never known to either of you as you thought it to be tame, soothing and gentle like the Clan itself. The Eagle Clan were not combative. Surely, there was the juxtaposition that they inherently were from being Apes, more powerful in countless other aspects than just strength to their Echo counterparts. 

But Noa knew --- at least he tried to convince his racing mind, the tenderizing of his flesh from another fist ghosting over his rib cage for a moment as if the male Ape were lost in the time that floated between then and now, scattering memories of your gazes, your hands near his own, the red seeping from his nose, the snarling of teeth flushed with his gargling saliva and iron-tasting blood…  Noa needed to remember how it felt to be pulverized in order to learn, in order to garner attention from you, sending a spiral of fear to radiate down his entire spine, down to his legs where he told himself he needed to keep standing and to not run away. 

What… If he never did? What if he never got you to look at him with those eyes that said more than anything that was ever said before? 

Your scent was still powerful, rising and falling into his nose like you were basking in front of him on a hot day, your chest wildly adorned with sweat as he watched a few droplets fall beneath the bridge of your breast, obscured by fabric as you flashed him a smile that was undetectable, your eyes knowing that he had been watching the delectation of moisture build up against your skin, feeling so envious that it got to caress you in the ways that he wanted to, how Noa yearned to leave a trail of his own spit morbidly against any crevice you would let him sink into.

The Clan seemed such a tack-note to him, shame rising at the idea that he’d let them burn it down now if it meant he could run towards you, to find where Soona had taken you, just to bargain against your unconscious, emotionless face… Wake up for me, please… I let you go once, I will never do it again… 

All you need to do…

Was.

Wake.

Up.

For me.

From his travels with Raka and the other Echo he had experienced, having to defending himself against the likes of a Bonobo who had many more years of experience, having to stand up for his Clan who considered him not worthy of the title Master of the Birds, it was clear in the way they looked at him compared to his Father, Noa needed to remember. How often he wondered if he’d ever set a standard like that with his own hands, with his own mind but it seemed impenetrable until he came out victorious once and he was suddenly engorged with power he didn't know how to yield, and having fought a Tyrant King only to burden a crown twice as heavy.

But, he thought back to it and looked at Anaya next to him, sharing an all knowing glance of self-preservation, knowing they were both on the same wavelength, a sure fire way to know that they were born within a blazing sunset, they shared their feelings without having to verbalize, they emoted their consciousness by sharing a stare, nothing more, green digging into more green that in itself, held the answer to everything, held the fire that was needed to come out victorious. In unison, they both looked back towards the threat. 

This was a fight intended for two Apes and a group of six Echo, their weapons unknown but surely tucked away, disguised and waiting, bloodthirsty for the moment where they got to taste flesh and bone. Anything - Noa’s eyes flickered against the horse, anything there, tied to the rear of the animal in the bags it carried heavily against it side sadistically, the dangling of a dagger against the female Echo in the forefront for his vision, it was placed on her chest, wrapped around her neck like a piece of ceremonious jewelry, flashing Noa to think of the necklaces his Father wore, so mild in their design, but so powerful and spoke words that did not need to be spoke. His stomach turned.

Anything could be used against them, Noa knew but was his mind able to comprehend such details in the midst of a fight? Would his instincts finally rest themselves against his diaphragm so he could fight to defend what was his?

Noa felt a subversive and uncomfortable notion resting inside of him, something that consecutively played against his greatest weakness and years of self-deprecating comparisons to his Father - He felt confident. Something that made the bile rise in the back of his throat, and no amount of swallowing was going to get it to go away so he opted to growl towards the male in a display of power, in a way that told him that he was going to adversely rip the very emotions off his face and hold them in his hand as a victory, blood spearing against Noa and marking him a capable Leader of the finest order, a monster in all regards, tongue sweeping over sharpened canines as he’d beam at the crunch the Echo body would make upon impact on the ground. 

Such gruesome thoughts flashing before him that he couldn’t get out of the forefront of his vision--- Your eyes swollen shut, mouth ajar with bloodied saliva falling from it, the fragile bob of your head, Noa wanting nothing more than to take it into his hands, flashing him back in time to the moments when you complained about your neck being sore after sleeping weird --

Such thoughts tangling with the aggression in his beating skull were all he needed. He knew Anaya could do this, there was no lack of confidence in his friend being more agile and a bit of a showoff at times and he was aware that it was a brilliant tactic to use in a fight against already intelligent Echo’s who probably had their own aberrant plan of what they were going do. 

Noa was an intellectual fighter, using things available to him instead of brute strength, something that rested uneasily in the taut muscles of his body, not fully used to the potential he wanted but that was more due to strength never needing to be used extensively in hand-to-hand combat.

He had--- His leafy gaze caught eyes with the female and he felt his mouth drop at the pure malice that dripped from her darkened irises as she stared right back at him, like a black queen on her throne she pierced down at him from the saddle of her horse. Noa had played his nature as an Ape once before, something that should make him a good fighter along the tree of life, and it cost his Fathers life and half the village, the countless that were lost then and then more that were lost in the aquatics when Mae blew up the dam holding back water.

Chimps… Could not swim, his hands grazing against bodies in the water as he tried to fight for the rest of them, knowing he had caused deaths in himself and in others. He’d lost Raka to the same force of nature, he had lost many of his Clan, and he was bargaining now inside of his mind how many could be lost by another element as he caught wind of the smoke blowing from the torches the Echo’s held, getting a mouth full of a disgusting tweed from the hut that had already been set on fire. 

Once again, he thought to himself and drew a hard breath in through his nose, the Eagle Clan were peaceful Apes - They never had a reason to fight other Apes, let alone an Echo pack. He was smart - that was the only confidence that was seeping from his pores, the rest of the notions were all superficial and ungrazed, unused and made Noa want to hunch in on himself near his Fathers grave and apologize once more for not being able to stop the infliction of destruction.

Dilated green eyes, eclipsed like the moon that beckoned in on a scheduled basis in the sky, sank into the male and tracing any lines of intellect that he was able to detect. There was nothing for him to analyze there, his mind racing at the prospect that were were some Echo’s whose eyes were unreadable - Unlike.. Noa’s hand balled into a fist before relaxing again at his side, waiting to sign to Anaya that it was time. 

Unlike your eyes. 

Noa’s hackles rose upon his shoulders at the scope of them captivating his own in a wild dance that he didn't know the steps to, breathing more rapid fire than before as he prepared his body, the muscles rippling from the aspect that he was more than likely going to get hit, leaving an undertone of uncomfort to lift in his mind along with the fur of his body. Noa’s fingers flexed at his side. 

‘Go.’

Anaya was the first to lunge forward, all four appendages ripping at the ground below and tearing Earth a few inches into the air before it collapsed back down, sad against its comrades as it had been destroyed. Tearing through the resistance of the air without a reserve, teeth bared and a large growl. Noa - Stagnant for a moment watched, entranced, envious that Anaya was… Not scared. 

So many times he was even scared at a ladybug that once crawled onto his forehead and fluttered its tiny wings against his leathery skin. Absolutely carnage, he managed to take down the female Echo’s horse with such ease kicking the legs out from under its weight with a skid against the dirt, Anaya’s fur delicately traced with sediment now on one side from the audacity of the action itself. The animal itself pained and Noa felt a shred of empathy for them as they hit the ground, straggling along with the Echo that went down with it. Without reserve, the provisions on the back of her horse, strapped so tightly, were scattered, a testament to just how hard his friend had hit. 

The animalistic abomination Anaya had in her hair has his long fingers tangled in, giving way into leverage as he began dragging her through the dirt, her hands reaching up to struggle against it as her feet splayed outwards in some desperate way to get him to stop, skirting the heels of her worn boots into the dirt that was imprinting her scraped body, bloody screams taking hold into the air as Noa sensed Soona’s return as she began the proper evacuations of the Eagle Clan with assistance from his Mother as the flames of the one hut tore itself against the flush field around the Colony and had its set gaze on the large embankment of huts that surrounded the Eagle Enclosure and the towering nests of the families.

Noa tired to focus on the situation at hand, knowing that the two female Apes would do what they could to get everyone out in time with the help of the Elders. He couldn’t find it in himself to worry about that in the middle of a fight. Noa turned his focus to Anaya once more and felt salivation hit his tongue at the primal intent that the Ape was displaying. It was like there was utmost satisfaction paid towards Anaya’s curiosity to the extreme of what it felt like to hold such power. Hard to bring down other Apes, easy to take down Echo’s and all their fragility. 

Noa snapped out of his self-doubt at that moment when he touched base on… That’s how it must have been for you, struggling to fight against a beast whose strength was going to tear you apart, the twigs that ended up in your hair, smearing blood and dirt into the finer details of your face and hair, your screams… Wondering when it was going to end, when the blunted weapon that knocked you unconscious would take your last breath.

Noa… Hated himself that you ended up like that, gargling on your own blood, your eyes unable to see what was happening to you as you scraped your hands in front of you in a last ditch effort to save yourself from being killed. 

He’d kill them just for looking at you, that thought radiating and taking hold of all of his senses, the tips of his fingers tickling himself in excitement, his breathing hard and fast through his nose as Noa yearned to do nothing more than to bare his teeth. The Ape would wait for that - Until this man was under his foot, pressing him down into the depths of the Earth itself, to burn under Noa’s weight as he crushed his rib cage first, hoping the bones would fall inwards and puncture his lungs. Only then… Would he smile at them. Give them the satisfaction of knowing that they had played a game against an Ape who wanted an eye for life. Not an eye for an eye, otherwise Noa would just beat them to a bloody pulp and let them leave.

 He was going to kill the Echo just to seek some revenge, knowing that the guilt of letting you leave in the first place was more of the reason he was fighting. For every cry you gave, he imagined some towards Noa himself, some towards the heavens as you begged for it to end, to be over so you could fall asleep and never recollect the terror you had been through. No one, Noa growled, his chest broadening in strict possession and acute aggravation. No one would lay a hand on you again, no one would make you cry out of anything other than exhalation or pleasure, those only reserved for Noa. He twisted his neck, the muscles primed for him and he peered at the prospect in front of him.

The large Chimp, primed to look bigger than usual by the swagger of his shoulders in conjecture with the muscles of his biceps, took a step forward, toes digging hard into the ground as he began to drive himself forward with intense and scrutinizing leverage, staring straight at the male in front of him, knowing now that he was not going to take the same route as Anaya by taking down the fragile horse first. Noa was going to go straight for the source of the problem itself.

Yes, this female Echo, thrown against the side of another hut out of the corner of Noa’s vision as Anaya brought his fist down directly onto her sternum, had to have been what happened, he was sure of it, falling onto all fours, the Echo male touching the holster on the right side of his body in anticipation. He may think he was fast, but was he faster than Noa? The question tickled the back of his mind and he wanted nothing more than to get that answer to soothe that intent of knowledge. 

The lunge he took forward was disgusting in all descriptions of the word, Noa felt like his teeth were going to shatter themselves into tiny shards inside of his mouth and he’d be forced to swallow them all in a nice grit. The shout - It was something that Noa himself found terrifying, not recognizable to his own ears as it tore through the entire Clan, captivating a few other Apes in their escape, including Anaya who looked over at him for just a split second, blood now falling from his mouth as he had torn into the female Echo he was working on, directly into her throat and tore it clean out of her body, the muscles being spit out and discarded wildly to now be coated with dirt as it rolled onto the ground.

Licking at it, he looked down at her with vicious intent, praised at himself and sought his next target, the other female, who having seen what happened to her fellow Echo, only peered in fear as Anaya drew closer, the color leaving her body as she went to grab a blunted iron staff from the hold it had against her back.

Noa’s body slammed against the male Echo without reserve, taking him down to the ground below and kissed the palm of his hand in a smear as Noa’s hand forced him down eat dirt, trying to control the struggle the horse found as they were knocked off balance, legs flailing and Noa wanted to break them all in a way to get the unabashed movement to stop under him. He relented that control, feeling the sick twist of Echo skin under his calloused touch as the male he had his fingernails dug into grunted, but did not fight back.

Noa shouted at them, right into their ear in a bid to get them to do something against him. Where was the satisfaction in killing an Echo when they did not fight back? Flurried eye contact was made with the other male a few meters away, Noa crushing the skull of one and peering right in front of him at the other, canines showing themselves only once now in a warning to him. He’d kill him if he came any closer.

He’d rip that beating jugular right out in the name of the Eagle Clan itself. No one hurt him, no one hurt his Echo, no one hurt his Clan, his people and sanctuary. Coming down harder, his entire weight pressed down on the male he had under him and Noa skirted him enough away from the horse, the male's feet mimicking the actions of the horse almost down to the tee to completely render the flailing useless as they managed to get onto their feet and run off. 

Thunder hit the male Apes ears, Anaya frenzied from his tussle with the female looking up at the sound he had only heard once before in his life. Noa’s eyes glancing up at the completely clear sky, save from the dancing twinkles of the stars as they joined the moon on their nightly ventures. No clouds… Noa grunted, collapsing first onto his knees as he tried to salvage his balance but found himself unable as if gravity itself were failing the very concepts that held items to Mother Earth. He fell forward, hard as a bellow of dirt encapsulated him, drifting downwards onto his fur. With his face pressing into the ground, Noa ripped a growl straight from the depths of his throat, mimicking that same noise he had heard only moments ago in a display of fevered intensity, swallowed whole by agony pilling itself in the forefront of his mind. 

His eyes almost admired the way that his blood, slick in nature by the saliva that was coating the redness itself, dribbled off his chin and onto the ground below, creating a mixture of concrete from the only hit that Echo managed to get onto his face on the way down from the toppling horse, not even noticeable in the moment to the Ape as adrenaline tore away at his pain receptors. Where Noa landed was hard and cold as the night that encased the trees of the landscape and instinctually, he was quick to get himself up before but faltered and collapsed again. Dirt ran into his mouth and stuck grossly to his tongue, trying to swallow it down was pained in itself. 

There was something lodged in his shoulder blade, near the tendon itself that felt like it was ricocheting to the left and right at a quickened pace, breathing with the air that he was taking into his lungs and Noa convinced himself to slow that down before the very muscles of his shoulder came into the open air as it felt that they were going to snap themselves apart and counteract upwards. Specifically the right shoulder as inflicted, rendering it mildly useless in the scape of things. What was an Ape without their most valuable weapons, fists? 

Noa hadn’t seen what hit him, and when he looked towards the spot on his shoulder inflicted with panic setting into his chest, causing his breathing to pick up as he shouted out, there was nothing there other than the seeping of his blood, mixing into the already darkened nature of his fur, trickling down through the finer parts closer to his skin, down his bicep and soon to encase his outer forearm. His arm shattered as he attempted to put in weight on it, yelping in defenselessness as he crashed onto the ground once again.

The Echo… in front of him. Noa bared his teeth against the ground. He had a weapon. Something Echo. Something… His green eyes forced themselves to drag upwards, only catching the gleam of something metallic and black in the Echo’s hand before it was put back into the side pouch against his skinny hip. 

There was no way that he’d miss an arrow or even a spear. Too big, the momentum would have been torn to shreds by the vision that was granted to him in the sake of defense. Noa cried out, yelling at himself to get up as more of his blood seeped onto the ground below his usually broad body, torn into itself in this moment as a thrust of agony ran through his entire right side, all the way down to the elongated nature of his spaced out toes.

The disgusting smell of his own blood hit his senses, cascading around the back of his mind in a relentless call to pick himself up and to continue fighting. He--- Noa cried, pressing his forehead into the dirt and giving himself a ceremonious kiss to the Earth in a bid for her to help him stand. He couldn’t…

Teeth gritted together, the sound dulling out the screams of the Eagle Clan as another flame tore through their trenches. He closed his eyes for only a moment before reopening them to find Anaya. Anaya… Noa wanted to whimper and get himself up enough to crawl over to his friend, unconscious having taken a blunt hit to the side of his head from the female as she was now rising to her feet, wiping her mouth of blood and looked at Noa directly, admiring the wound on his shoulder that glimmered wetness.

Noa wanted to grasp him, to pull him closer and to tell him that he was sorry, that this was all of his fault… The demise of their clan, years of generations, years of culture and traditions, were now soaring free in the sky as their Eagles took off from the Enclosure in search of sanctuary elsewhere. Some followed their owners, others cried in desperation as their owners were unable to be detected in the absolute frenzy. Green irises finally rested against fire as it brought its flames upon the perch of the Eagle Enclosure. The wood, sap and rudimentary but sophisticated building was engulfed without remorse, a strangled cry raked his entire body. No… No… Noa tried to move forward, slumping his body in an unnatural contort as his feet pushed his upper half against the dirt, now mixing with the soot and ash of devastation. Not again. NOT AGAIN! His forehead pressed against the ground as he began shaking, his muscles falling in on themselves and without warning, Noa’s back was crushed downwards, stopping all his movements by the male he had begun this fight with. 

All breath left Noa’s chest as he felt the back of his ribcage explode with misery as it was pressed beyond its abilities. There was a sharp snap as he took another breath in, the entire weight of the Echo being placed, a boot imprint leaving itself on the back of his fur as the male finally relented and sought to crouch down next to Noa. 

“Can’t even fight like a damn Ape,” He spat, reaching around Noa’s forearm, upwards to his bicep and tore the band that laid there right off, hopeful that maybe there’d be some fur that was with it as a trophy. Another one destroyed, another step in the right direction. Noa wheezed, unable to breath but managed himself to look towards the man who began playfully sipping Noa’s arm band on his pointer finger while the other raised up and wiped under his nose, taking in the adornment of red against his flesh.

“You got a few good hits, gotta give it to you.” Rations of liquid seeped into Noa’s lung the moment he was kicked onto his side, the pressure of the movement rounding his entire being into a state of pure shock. “Watch your little town, Ape. Watch it burn to the ground and know that we’re gonna take back this godforsaken planet by any means necessary. And your little pet? She’s still alive somewhere in the woods. I think I’ll find ‘er.” Noa’s eyes widened as tears began physically falling from his eyes. Rare for a Chimp, but not impossible. You--- No…

He grunted to say something but nothing but a gurgle took hold in his throat as he spat out a bit of blood. 

“Make sure she knows I destroyed everything she fought to hide from me, her poor little cries. Wouldn’t tell me where you were, she’s quite a fighter.” A smirk. 

Eyes twitched in a desperate plea to fight more but Noa was unable to tangle himself into any sort of stance other than the sweeping of his gaze against the village, Soona looking at him from across the field, before tearing her sight on Anaya who was still unconscious. She was panicked, it was evident and she didn't know which to go after. Anaya, or Noa.

Growling, she handed a baby Bonobo to Dar as they were still evacuating into the woods and chose Anaya. Drag him away, get him to safety and return to help Noa. Her feet were fastened, she needed to be quicker than the breeze that ran through the desolate Eagles in the sky before Noa was killed. Noa understood - He’d have done the same thing, he thought pensively and let his eyes shut. 

“I really tortured her to get her to just tell us where your lil’ monkey clan was, should have heard her scream.” Swiping his teeth with his tongue, he held his hand out as the other male came forward and handed him that same metallic and black weapon. Noa’s eyes widened in recognition. He had no name for it now, he couldn’t recall in the moment if Mae ever told him what it was, if he was ever told what it was by anyone in the village. The stocky and short shaft of the item pressed against Noa’s head, cold.

He’d seen what it did to one of Proximus’ followers. Whatever projectile this flung out was stuck in his shoulder. Whatever was inside was going to throw Noa into the darkness where he was going to remain.

“Such a waste of screams, honestly. If she had just told us where you were, she’d probably be more alive than she is now, my friends here really did a number on her when she tried to get onto her horse to warn you.”

Squeezing his eyes shut now, Noa heard Eagle Sun's distinctive cry coming from above. He was ready. You were out there, teetering on the line and would succumb, Echo’s were a lot more fragile and the hits he knew, without proper care immediately, were going to cause extensive damage and you’d give up despite being stubborn beyond belief. With his actions, the whole of the Eagle Clan would be lost. With his last breath, just a whisper to the Eagles above and to the Apes in the surrounding forest. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Noa reached out a hand and let his eyelids flutter open for a moment and he felt your grazing fingertips against his palm. He reacted as such, bringing his fingers in slowly to hold onto you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Thunder. Multiple splits like the sky were opening up for his departure from the Earth.

Noa drew a deep breath in and expected to open them to nothing but a wilderness of white as he was torn away from his conscious body into oblivion. Something, something… Slowly, eyes opened to peek at what was beyond death. Was he going to see his Father? Koro? 

He sobbed lightly at that, flooding his vision with tears. He wanted to… He wanted to apologize to him for all of this, for being so weak and for… Not being the Son that the Master of Birds deserved. Noa wanted the embrace of his Father’s hands against his face as they were brought together to kiss foreheads and he wanted him to know that he fought with all he had, how was he meant to be predestined to win against the ardent use of unfair warfare used by Echo’s who saw them as nothing but threats?

Noa sobbed again, this time harder when there was weight suddenly thrusted on top of him, harder than he needed and crushed his ribs even further into his body. 

Noa swore to the heavens now that… He’d heard your voice. Soothing and calling for him. You were there! In the deep midnight and you were telling him to come join. That you’d forgive him if he just opened his eyes and looked at you. The weight was taken off of him, the last adornment before the sweet kiss of death, an Eagle perched atop him, came in with intent to take him under their wing. Yes… He wanted nothing more than your hands against him, his back falling flat onto the ground as he peered into the night sky, the stars drawing him in through the rush of moisture in his eyes that obscured the finer details. Take me. My Echo… My… Beautiful screaming Echo.

“Noa, you ne-need to look at me.” Ah, your voice again and he found himself tilting his head into the caress that your hands suddenly had on his head, blood drawing his line of vision for a moment as you smeared it against his cheeks, a bid to get him to keep his head straight instead of lulling to the side in defeat. 

 “NOA!” Digging your knees into the ground, you tried to ignore the sensation of absolute ripping coming from your calves that you had managed to tie into a tourniquet to get the bleeding to subside with the dull leather of the belt you had. Grime was dug deeply into your fingernails, a silent prayer to the landscape that you just transferred your body against, at least fifty meters of terrain, hard and unforgiving under your weight. A want to defend what was yours to the bitter end. If you fell on the way there as death knocked on you, then fine, so be it, as long as you made an effort to try.

You had woken up alone after hearing the vaguest of ‘sorry’ from Soona as your head was delicately placed against the ground. Not that you could blame her once realization and horror dawned on you at the sight of a dim fire consuming the woods near you, you’d have done the same thing. Gone to protect your own people instead of a lifeless Echo who meant nothing. 

Your hands had torn the male you had shot away from Noa, watching as the bodies of the other Humans lay bare in rapid succession as you impressed yourself with your remarkable aim with swollen eyes, only able to get yourself planted on the ground long enough to actually pull the trigger of the gun that was thrown against the ground as soon as the bullets were spent.

Had they been paying attention, you beamed at yourself for just a moment as you collapsed back down and made your way towards Noa, using your forearms to scoot yourself as your legs were ultimately rendered useless now after trying to stand on such a sustained injury, you had taken one of their primal weapons and tucked it into the waistband of your pants when they had attacked you before.

Stupid Echo, you joked and let a chortled cry radiate through you as you tried to garner Noa’s eyes into your own, your hands caressing the sides of his face, sweeping over the indentation of the bullet into his shoulder.  It was like he was in your own head saying it now as you cried, your tears falling onto his face into a mixture of salt and iron. 

Stupid Echo always leave most vulnerable spots open. 

How you hated that he was right… Fingertips trailed against the fine wrinkles around his nose that were less prominent than they usually were as he was not holding himself conscious. “Noa, you need to wake up, I can-can’t carry you on my own, I don-don’t know where Soona went or where Anaya is, I can---” You tapered as a cry hit your throat at the idea that you were too late and that he was going to be unable to come to, unable to help you. 

Glancing down at your mangled calves, you came to terms that you were going to need to use the torn apart muscles there to get him dragged away from the fires that were rapidly consuming around you. Please, please… You told your legs, please just give me enough to do this and you can take me to death's door step after… Please… 

“I need to save him…” You verbalized, words thrown in on themselves with agnostic punches of air as you were unable to find it in yourself to calm the rapid rise and fall of your shoulders. 

Noa reached up, grasping your forearm for only a second before it dropped onto his chest. You scrambled, gasping as he finally coughed under you, his eyes trying to bring themselves into focus, you dug your hands into the fur lining his face and brought your forehead in towards his own, kissing only for a second in a flurry. He was alive, you brought your eyes to squeeze shut and force the tears away as they were now mixing disgustingly with the mud on your face. “Noa, you need to get up.” That was said against his lips, your face so near in proximity that you appeared cross-eyed. “Echo.” “I know, they---” You brought your face down and pressed it into his chest above where his arm now rested, only pulling back once he winced at the sensation of you being so close to him. I-- Couldn… Couldn’t… Stop them… They…”

Noa’s eyes finally fluttered fully open as he coughed aggressively, blood slipping out of the corner of his mouth that you wiped away without hesitation to cup the side of his face once you pulled yourself from his chest, tucking an arm under his neck to keep him leveraged so he wouldn’t drown on himself. “This… all my fault, the Clan… Yo.. You’re so hurt… I tried they…” 

“(Name).” The sound of your name from him rocketed your senses back to reality instead of pitiful groveling like you had been. His eyes were no longer open.

“Yes, it’s me…” You whispered, your fingers drawing themselves against the wrinkles of his face once again as you braced him against you, slickness smearing itself onto your clothing without reserve and in some sick twisted way, with his blood now seeping into your skin, this was the closest you had ever been to him. You always wanted to touch them, touch his face, but not like this.

Early morning after he took you for the first time would have been the preference, your hands lightly tracing what you had wanted to seek for so long… Something in you hoped that your touch alone was going to revive him but you knew that to be wishful thinking but it persisted when you dragged your fingers down towards his mouth and traced the lines of his lips. Say my name for me, say anything for me…

You tried to hold his head just a bit more, “Noa you need to get up, we need to get out of here before the fire comes. I--- I won’t leave you here again, but you need to help me.” A promise was made in that moment as he willed himself to try, his shoulders moving rather loosely as you tangled yourself into him, prepared to take the full force of his weight against your shins. 

“Soona---” “I th-think she’s-helping the Clan---” Noa let out a thunderous roar this time, regretting it immediately once it left his body as he slumped back once again and you were forced to catch him before he racketed onto the ground again. “SOONA!”

It felt like moments later, she was there; Soona’s eyes frantic as she looked at you, amazement clearly there that you were not dead where she had left you. Only a moment of an apologetic glance as you whispered to her, “I-I can’t lift him on my own, he’s--- I need to get him away from here to get the bullet out of his shoulder otherwise he’s going to die.” 

You were remarked on your ability to speak so clearly, chalking it up to the fact that you were face to face with death anyway and the adrenaline was causing the muscles of your jugular to pound crazily, your heart running itself away from the idea that he could die from the wounds inflicted on him. “Please.” You needn’t bother with formalities, Soona wanted to tell you as she dropped herself next to you, fixating on your legs and their physical state. “I know you can’t carry both of us. Get him out of here, don’t worry about me anymore. I-I’ll get myself out of here, I’m quite a crawler.”  It was a joke meant to lighten the mood as you felt the heat of flames against your back, “Crawled all the way over here by myself.” To say goodbye.

Letting your hand rest on Noa’s head, you petted the fur backwards and admired the scar that Eagle Sun had left him. The Ape accepted the affection unabashedly and tilted into it, your eyes staring down at him for only a moment thinking of what could have been if the circumstances were different. Both could have been happy… The pleasure of knowing what Noa felt like against you, not in a moment of death, but in a moment of ecstasy, your mouth drifting over his own as you told him how much you… You loved him.

Stumbling over yourself, you choked on your own self-pity thinking about the first time you had admitted that you loved him, the first time the idea sprung in the back of your head. Just another day where something lit inside of you, Noa giving you only one glance that lasted longer than any of the others, lips piling themselves into a small smile just for you…

“Will send someone to come get you.” Soona’s voice was rushed with reassurance as she moved to get Noa, taking him from your grasp and leaving you only with the imprint of his body left against your shirt, pants and hands. “Promised To Noa… keep His Echo… safe.” There was a twinge in your heart at that as your fingers left him as she rose to stand. Your hands dangled in the air for a moment before you dropped them slowly. “Thank you….” Voice barely a touch above a whisper, you smiled slightly at her which she returned with a softened gaze before it hardened in focus to hike Noa up with her. 

You hoped Soona was right that someone would come get you, your legs were numb and you were tired from pulling yourself to see him. So tired… Your eyelids felt so heavy, the blurring of the fire behind you deeply entrancing just to roll into. So… tired… The same feeling rushed into your chest like when you were first found by Noa, Soona and Anaya. Acceptance… No more bargaining, as you were ready to see your friends again, ready to meet Koro and tell him how amazing his Son truly was.  

You smiled to yourself with a huff, feeling the cut on your lip split open with one more lingering thought. He was going to be a great Leader, and he was going to rebuild and prosper, with or without you. Who needed a pesky little Echo?

Falling onto your knees as best you could, you tried to scramble yourself to stand but to no avail and drooled onto the ground as you came to rest on your stomach, face down in the dirt as Noa had been when you arrived.  It was a choice you were making, knowing that Soona was only able to carry one of you safely without risking the other to more injuries or even death and Noa was falling into a state of unconsciousness.

Your bit about getting the bullet out earlier was only telling Soona what she needed to do once he was safe, nothing more. Your fingers would no longer touch him. She wanted to speak on it, but you had accepted that this was the way things were meant to be as flames hit your cheeks from a few meters away. She needed to help Noa, their leader, and not what Noa’s interests were.

Death, you thought, always brought new beginnings and you hoped that to be true with all your might as you watched Soona carry Noa once your head tilted in that direction, the last action you felt you were able to bring yourself to do. Need… To look at him, see him one more time… You told the reaper above you, just give me that, please… His feet staggering against the ground, hard and rough as Soona herself struggled to keep him situated against her own body. You’d have always died for him, you felt like it was destined.

One way or another, somewhere in the multitude of the universe, you being nothing more than a speck to anyone else, were an entire world for an Ape. A Chimpanzee. Your heart, you wished you'd protected it a bit more but still... At the end of the day that was more than okay to perish in flame for.

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[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 6

chapter 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 7

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after months in the wilderness, you finally arrive at chicago. adapting to this new life has its cons, but also its perks. joel's birthday is around the corner, and you have planned for a couple of things you hope he likes...

a/n: hiya! here's chapter six!! it's packed with a bit of everything, especially drama because why not? 🤷 i want to thank you all ― i just realised that the first 3 chapters have hit over 100 notes each! i'm so damn grateful to all of you, honestly. as much as i'm writing for myself, i'm loving how hooked some of you are with this story 😳 also, i'd like to apologise in advance if i have butchered chicago's layout or its history, i did try my best doing some research. as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

warnings: 18+, mdni. mention of Sarah's death. angst. fluff. filthy smut (don't you know me by now?). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). irresponsible use of contraception (don't do that). consensual somnophilia. dry humping. unprotected piv. masturbation (m and f). creampie. pussy slapping. fisting. squirting. cum play. a bit of assplay. makeup sex. sir kink. “bar” fight. alcohol consumption. blood. stabbing. swear words. mention of past racist events and the precursor to the chicago race riot of 1919. soft!dom!joel. a bit of aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is now 37 (🎉!). no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~6.9k.

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981 @fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz

Chicago was definitely not what you had expected at all. Shit had gone down really badly in this place. It took you a week to cross the southwest area, keeping close to Interstate 55 as a reference. The worst you had seen was Chicago Midway International Airport. Airplanes had crashed on the runway, the esplanade was a makeshift cemetery even almost a year after Outbreak Day. Bodies piled on top of each other, fires would break out in the adjacent buildings. The control tower was completely dilapidated. And the grounds were full of clickers.

Tommy, Joel and you made it through the worst neighbourhoods. As you covered more miles, Tommy and Joel realised that this had not been the best idea. But you were already there, so the best option was to move forward. You all had to defend yourselves, and each other. Although the Miller brothers took out many attackers ―humans and infected alike―, you also had your good share of action. You didn’t like it, but you were good at shooting. Your clothes were stained with blood and sweat. You endured, and you survived. That was what mattered.

The whole city was in shambles, divided by two different groups: the government and the rebels. The government held the north side of the Chicago River, from River North Gallery District all the way to Old Town ― basically everything to the east of Interstate 90. The rebels, on the other hand, controlled the south ― all the movable bridges along the whole Wacker Drive, from New Eastside to Chinatown. Anything further south or north, and between Interstates 55 and 90, from Little Village to Naperville, was no man’s land.

You ended up on the rebels’ side randomly. Tommy was not very happy about it, blaming the communists for overpowering the government, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. If you tried to cross any bridge to go northwards, you would be shot at with no warning. From both sides.

It took a while to convince the Rioters ― that was how the rebels called themselves. Two weeks later, on the 20th of August, you were given a place to stay near the Art Institute of Chicago, which was also the operations base. You did try to integrate yourself in this society as you knew it was better to have more friends than foes. The Millers, however, kept to themselves ― Joel more than Tommy, as you had expected. No surprises there.

The flat you were in was in urgent need of repairs but was better than sleeping rough. You and Joel fixed as many things as you both could, while Tommy took cleaning very seriously. It wasn’t much, but it was the place you called home for the last month. The only downside was that it only had two bedrooms, so Joel and you sadly had to share the only double bed available, while Tommy had his own room.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself ― the last four weeks had been pure bliss in a sense. Waking up every day besides Joel had become a delightful habit. He had awakened you many a times either in the middle of the night or in the early morning to give him a hand. Literally. And you had done exactly the same thing when you had needed it. You were sure Tommy was sick and tired of you two, but you didn’t care.

You stretched out, still lying in bed. The morning light had not come through the curtains yet, but it soon would. You rubbed your eyes and then let your arms drop to your sides dramatically. You were not a morning person, but your sleeping schedule was all fucked up. You rolled to your other side in an attempt to get comfortable.

Joel was sleeping on his right side. You had noticed he usually did in the same position. When you had asked him why, he had explained his hearing in his right ear was messed up since his suicide attempt. You wished you could have been faster that day to prevent the gun from going off. Ah, the regrets you both had…

His back was towards you, him facing the door. Despite the repairs you all had done to the flat, it was still not the safest. Every night one of you would make sure all locks were engaged and would bar the front door. A few days ago, someone attempted to break in. Since then, all of you would sleep with a firearm nearby.

Today was Sunday ― 26th of September. Which meant it was Joel’s birthday, as well as the first anniversary of Outbreak Day. The anniversary of Sarah's death would be tomorrow too. You had tried to talk to Joel about today, but he didn’t seem to be interested in celebrating at all, which you completely understood. As much as you wanted to do something, you respected his decision. You had only planned for a couple of low-key things, which you hoped he wouldn’t mind.

He had fallen asleep only with his briefs on, the bedsheet draping around his legs. You couldn’t see, but you were damn sure he had his arms crossed at his chest, always on guard. Your eyes dwelled on his upper body, two perfect dimples on his lower back. His shoulders were broad and toned, his waist smaller. He was not the most muscular guy you had ever seen, but he was perfect the way he was. His calloused hands had shown you multiple times how good he was for you, despite what he thought of himself.

You couldn’t resist, your mouth dry. Your fingertips traced the curve of his neck, then his left shoulder down to his elbow. Your hand caressed his left hip and slipped down to his front, following his V line. Your fingers touched the elastic of his briefs ― and something else.

You gulped down the knot in your throat, your heart beating harder in your chest, when your fingertips brushed over the damp tip of his cock. Joel’s morning wood was so prominent, his glans had slipped out of his underwear and was showing. You wetted your lips as you stroked him carefully. A deep, almost guttural growl flowed from Joel’s chest.

You got closer to him in bed, your nipples grazing the skin on his back even through your pyjamas. It probably wasn’t the best time ― you knew he was tired, but you wanted him so badly. Liquid fire was pooling in your furrow, knowing his erection was right there for you to play with.

Your internal battle didn’t last long.

You pulled down his briefs to free his warm dick. You didn’t need to look to know his shaft was resting against his happy trail, the head touching his belly button. With no hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his cock, squeezing him delicately. Then you slid your hand down his meaty column, holding him firmly, in a very slow but strong pump.

He groaned, still asleep as far as you could tell, as you started pumping him ― more heat and excitement gathering in your pussy. You dunked your fingers in your panties, touching yourself. You were already wet, the mere thought of making him yours was enough. You kissed his left shoulder at the same time he uncrossed his arms ― his left hand over yours, feeling the rhythm you were imparting on him.

He was awake.

Joel didn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he was sure it wasn’t this. When he looked down and saw your tiny hand trying to muffle his cock, he closed his eyes with a sigh. That felt damn good. He was knackered after last night’s patrolling shift, but this was exactly what he needed to decompress.

He turned around, his back flat against the uncomfortable mattress. His eyes were pinned on yours, your sweet hand upping the speed. You leaned towards him and invaded his mouth with your devilish tongue. Joel moaned in the middle of the kiss ― his brain completely switched off. He could not think straight when you were handling him like that.

Quickly letting go of his erection and mouth, you got rid of your pyjama shorts and your underwear. Then you doubled down your efforts with the handjob ― his throbbing cock was calling for you. You could see a few drops of precum sliding off his veiny shaft, which you swiftly gathered with your thumb to rub them against his leaking slit. You felt his dick pulsating hard for you ― your cunt palpitating at exactly the same time, anticipating. Your bodies were fully synchronised.

You then climbed on top of him, his balls welcoming the touch from your puffy lips. You rolled your hips against his, looking for that friction you so much loved, and took a deep breath before taking off the top of your pyjamas, throwing it to one side. You bended down, your mouth looking for his, so thirsty.

“Good morning, handsome”, you whispered as a greeting.

“Mhmmm”, was the only thing he managed to hum, sleepy.

You smiled and broke off the contact, straightening your back. His rough hands slid from your knees, across your thighs, to your butt. He clasped your ass cheeks with assertiveness. With no more words than those, you took his steely cock in your hand and lifted your hips. You glided his glans over your damp fold a few times, your cunt beseeching to be stuffed.

You guided his tip to kiss your entrance and descended on his dick slowly, very slowly, the palms of your hands flat against his lower abdomen to steady yourself. You closed your eyes, head tilted backwards, and whined loudly. Each inch was a blessing. Once his cock was entirely inside of you, you peeked back down at him and did a circular motion with your hips. His eyes were so intense you couldn’t look away while you started riding him.

Joel closed his eyes unwillingly when the muscles in his lower belly cramped. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, so forced himself to open them again ― he loved seeing how the pleasure transformed your beautiful features. Your half-lidded eyes, your lips parted, a river of pearly sweat coming down in between your bosom. Your perfectly round breasts bouncing in front of him. He was a lucky bastard.

He liberated your ass, his hands drifting to your bust, holding your tits. While he kneaded that tender flesh and coddled your nipples, you covered his hands with yours. You were still jumping on top of him, albeit more erratically, as you felt an orgasm hit you with full force. You mewled as your needy pussy discharged the seed of your pleasure all over him, hugging his hard erection, strangling his cock, encouraging him to come with you.

Joel was so damn close to coming, his nuts contracted with equal parts of pain and lust. He could feel your gush soaking his dick. He was about to lose his goddamn mind ― he needed to stop. His hands abandoned your breasts to place them on your butt to help you lift it up, so you would release his cock before it was too late.

“No, it’s okay. Fill me up, please, sir”, you wailed, your palms against his chest, your hips grinding against his.

Joel glimpsed at you with doubt. It was like you could read his mind, because you knew what he was thinking. You smiled softly, your wet pussy palpitating around his cock. You forced your inner walls to contract against him as you leaned forward to kiss him.

“I’ve got the morning after pill. Please, please, Joel, come inside, I beg you. Trust me”, you wept, laying down on top of him.

He thought himself mad for believing you, but he did. Because he was mad for you, regardless of what he tried to convince himself of. He lifted your butt up off his lap with his hands ― with the help of his legs, the heels of his feet against the bedsheets, he thrusted into you like a madman while you remained still on top of him. Drilling your weeping cunt, as hard and fast as he could. He just wanted to know how it felt just once; he wanted you to milk him dry.

Joel fucked you like there was no tomorrow, the room echoing with the squishy sounds and the impact of flesh on flesh. He was fucking you so hard that you came again at the same time he spilled his spent in you ― Joel groaned like you never heard him before. The slick warmth you felt inside made you smile, your face buried in the curve of his neck, your nipples brushing his. With his pulsing dick still inside of you, you bit the skin on his neck, leaving a mark behind.

“Happy birthday, sir”, you whispered in his ear.

That was your gift to him. And to yourself, because you had wanted this from the very first time he impaled you in the forest. You had had to trade a few bits for the morning after pill, but it was worth every single one of them. You felt your cave so clogged with him and his cum, you thought you had descended to hell.

You both stilled, catching your breaths. His dick was still twitching, housed by your greedy, soaked cunt.

A minute later, he sat up on the bed, bit your mouth and lifted your butt up, his cock becoming free. He quickly laid you down in fetal position ― resting on your righthand side, back slightly curved, head bowed, your knees bent touching your breasts. He placed a hand on your left hip and tilted your pelvis a bit forward, so he could inspect your heart-shaped ass and your puffy, reddened pussy framed by your inner thighs.

Just in time to see his cum gushing out of your hole, dripping across your perineum and then going downwards, skidding through your butt cheek. One of his digits caught the semen before it hit the bedsheets, retraced its steps back and shoved the cum back inside of you with the push of his finger.

“You can’t waste my gift to you, baby, it’d be so fucking rude of you”, he purred in your ear, his voice coarse and warm at the same time.

He laid on his side behind you, moving his index in a circular motion, looking for your g-spot and finding it. He stroked it dextrously, sliding it in and out slowly. You closed your eyes, and fisted the bedsheet in your hand, trying to hold onto something. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ when he bottomed out, quickly adding a second finger. And a third. Then a fourth.

It didn’t take long for your pussy to adjust to such delightful intrusion ― your inner walls felt like clay, reshaping around him. Joel could feel you relax around his fingers and took the chance, introducing his thumb in your pussy too. Now his entire hand was buried in your fluttering cunt, down to his wrist. He remained still for a hot minute while your muscles loosened up to house him.

Then he slowly started to pump his fist inside of you, back and forth, building up a steady pace. Joel bit your shoulder and then kissed it ― his tongue tasting the saltiness of your sweat.

By that point you couldn’t stop moaning very loudly ― the whole building was probably listening to your whoring screams as Joel fisted you relentlessly with his whole hand. Each push propelling his cum further inside of you as if he wanted it to take. He was thrusting you so harsh, your entire body was rocking back and forth on the bed. He was fucking you senseless just with his hand ― and you were loving every single second of it.

Your sticky cunt couldn’t take it for much longer ― it was wet, pulsating, contracting, overstimulated, yearning… Your pussy literally was his, and only his. The orgasm had been building up for so long now that when you let it go, weeping at the top of your lungs, it hit you like a motherfucking truck. Your whole body went into shock while you squirted ― you were shaking due to the force of your own release. For fuck’s sake, you could barely breathe.

You whimpered again when he removed his hand and rubbed your wetness all over your delicate folds. Before you could form a coherent thought, he spanked you on your crotch so firmly it tingled ― you almost died and went to heaven right there and then, biting into the pillow underneath your head. He kept on slapping your quivering cunt until your sensitive clit twitched one last time with devastating pleasure, contracting your uterus so the last trickle of cum oozed out of you. He caught it with his thumb and brushed it gently against your asshole, caressing the tight ring, until you fully relaxed.

You sighed, unable to move. You even felt dizzy. Your limbs felt so limp you didn’t think you could sit up, so you just stayed there, melting against the bedsheets. You hadn’t realised your eyes had welled up until a few tears ran down your cheeks. Tears of complete, utter joy ― there was no other way of describing it.

You were so damn grateful for this man, you swore to yourself you would never let him go. You had been with others, but none of your sexual partners had been so fucking attentive. Joel would always make sure you were completely satisfied, without fail. And that said a lot about him.

You rolled onto your back to look at him, wiping away the tears with a satisfied smile and dreamy eyes. He was still lying down on his side, his elbow against the bed, his head resting on the palm of his hand. He returned your smile ― such gesture transforming his rugged face. So gorgeous it tugged at your heart.

“Y’know, it was supposed to be all the way around today ― me fucking you until you begged”, you confessed, although it was not a complaint.

He grinned, his hand possessively cupping your mound. You parted your legs slightly so he could massage your sensitive furrow. It felt so calming after all that pussy-slapping he gifted you with.

“As redundant as it sounds, plans rarely go according to plan, sweetheart”.

Understatement of the fucking year, you thought.

You just laughed while his hand was still kneading your sticky flaps. Joel kissed your forehead before he took out his hand from in between your legs, your damp, intimate skin being swept by the cold air.

“The morning after pill?”, he asked a minute later.

“I got it from Kelsey, it’s in date. Don’t panic, it’s okay. I have three days to take it. Which made me think… I don’t need to do it straight away, right?”, you glanced up at him, a wide smile on your lips.

“Mhmm, I mean, it would be a waste otherwise, I guess”, he replied, tucking a stray hairlock behind your ear. “But I need a minute here, darlin’. You work miracles, but even I have limits. Wait up”, he mumbled grumpily as he palmed his left wrist, and then got out of bed while he tucked away his member back in his briefs.

Joel headed towards the en-suite bathroom. He came back out only a few seconds later ― you could see panic in his eyes. You sat back up on the mattress quickly.

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked with worry, kneeling on the bed.

“My wristwatch, I can’t find it. I am sure I left it by the sink before I came to bed last night. I can’t lose it. I can’t”, he was now frantically searching his bedside table, panic growing in his tone.

You bit down your lip, because you knew where it was. In the drawer of your nightstand. You had taken it in the middle of the night because your second present was getting it repaired for him today.

“I have it”, you whispered, shrugging with an apologetic smile.

“What? Why?”, he approached you, extending his hand towards you, his tone so serious. “Give it back now”, he almost growled at you.

His reaction took you completely off guard. Why was he so possessive over a broken watch? Trying to understand the sudden change in Joel, you opened the drawer and took it out.

“I just wanted to get it fixed for you, as a gift”, you didn’t understand what was happening.

“You have not fixed it, have you?! Because if you have―”, he snatched it off your hand, inspecting it.

You frowned ― his attitude towards you was completely off. What the hell was going on?

“Don’t you dare touch my fucking things, is that clear?”, he snapped.

You looked at him blankly, speechless. Then your own temperament started to shimmer under the surface.

“Wow, wow, wow ― Calm the fuck down, Joel. It’s just a broken, useless watch―”, you stopped yourself because of his perplexed look.

“Shut up. It’s not just any watch. You don’t fucking understand”, he yapped.

“I would try and understand if you just fucking explained it to me?!”, you shouted at him while you got dressed. “What is your fucking problem, Joel? What’s up with that watch? I don’t read minds!”.

“Forget it”, he grumbled, strapping the watch to his wrist before putting his trousers on and grabbing a T-shirt, heading towards the door.

“That’s it? You just up and leave?”, you repressed the urge of throwing a pillow to his head.

“I’ve got stuff to do”, he muttered.

A few seconds later, you heard him opening the front door. Then he slammed it shut.

It was around lunchtime now and you had not seen Joel since this catastrophic morning. While you had the impression that Joel’s reaction was due to something he would not speak about, he had no fucking right to treat you that way. You were just trying to do something nice for him, that was all.

You walked through the main hallway of the Art Institute of Chicago. It was rammed with people running around ― some armed, some not. You didn’t think that humanity would prevail in big groups in such circumstances, but it did.

The Rioters had established some sort of order. People had tasks to do, everyone working together to build up a community. Chores were allocated according to people’s skills. Joel had been put on patrolling shifts, Tommy was helping with carpentry and other building jobs, and you were in the hunting group. As much as you hated pulling the trigger, you were a very good shot. All thanks to your good old Texan father.

You were on your way to check with the group if there were any plans of going out today when you got interrupted.

“Hey”, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“What’s up, Joyce?”, you looked at the older woman when you turned around.

Joyce was around fifty five years of age, maybe more, and was the kindest soul you had ever met. She had welcomed you to Chicago like a mother a daughter. Joyce showed you around, explained how the Rioters worked and guided you in the right direction. Because as good as everything looked, there was still darkness lurking around.

She was also the best cook ever. Like, no jokes, she could transform a tasteless rabbit in the most flavourful stew your tastebuds had ever been in contact with.

“I just finished cooking, do you want some stew?”, she asked with a warm smile.

Your stomach growled at the mere idea.

“Fuck yeah”, you replied ― your duties could wait, surely.

“Watch your language, kiddo”, Joyce reprimanded you.

“Sorry, sorry”, all that time you spent with Joel was showing.

You followed her to the canteen and patiently waited for Joyce to pour some stew in a bowl. You then went with her to a table where more people were sat down. You didn’t know any of them, so Joyce introduced you. You were damn sure you weren’t going to remember one single name by the time you walked out the door.

“So, you’ve never heard the story of Eugene Williams?”, one of the men asked rhetorically to a younger fellow across the table, who shook his head in reply. “He was a black kid in 1919, when racial segregation was still in place here in Chicago. The summer of 1919 was so hot the kid wandered off to the white side of Chicago beach without realising. A man threw stones at him until the kid drowned and died. That was what ignited the Chicago Race Riot of 1919 ― and why we, the resistance, go by the Rioters”.

You listened to every word while you ate your meal. After hearing that explanation, many things made sense. Although they named themselves the Rioters, there were no riots in the streets ― actually, people seemed happy here, given the circumstances.

“That’s right, Walter, younger people need to learn about the past, so those mistakes are never repeated again”, said Joyce.

The conversation then moved on to present times, the people talking about the continuous fight against the so-called government.

Joel got the afternoon patrolling shift that day, which he thought was a killer, considering he did the night shift last night. But it was good in a sense ― it would keep his mind occupied. You had angered him so much this morning, it had set his mood for the rest of the day. The thought of you erasing that memory had maddened him so bad, he had to walk out before he said something he would later regret.

That watch was the only anchor chaining him to what little remained of his humanity. A gentle reminder of what could have been but wasn’t. Every day he wondered how Sarah would be doing in this new world. And most days, he was just somewhat grateful she wasn’t here to see what had become of civilisation. The unspeakable horrors she would have witnessed and suffered but didn’t ― it was very little consolation to a father, but it was better than nothing.

He absentmindedly touched the watch on his wrist, ensuring it was properly fastened.

Joel was stationed with other people in front of Bataan-Corregidor Memorial Bridge. In those long, never-ending hours, there was no activity on the other side of the bridge, but they had to remain vigilant nonetheless. By the time the next group showed up, it was already half eight in the evening.

Joel headed towards the headquarters to sign off and go home. He was already on edge, thinking about what he would say to you to appease you. Because he was damn sure you would be waiting for him, ready to pick up the fight where you both left it. As Joel walked past the canteen, he heard a familiar voice.

Tommy was on his feet, yelling at a man, his accusatory index pointing to the guy. Joel rolled the eyes to the back of his head ― he was sure his brother was so drunk he would probably not remember any of this the next day. Joel shook his head with disappointment ― some things would never change, not even when the world had gone to shit.

He planned to ignore the situation and get back home to you, when a fight started. Joel groaned in despair, debating what to do. But a man chose for him ― he saw how a bloke approached Tommy from behind, knife on hand, and he knew he had to do something. Joel quickly closed the distance in stride and grabbed the man from the neck of his shirt, pulling him backwards until the dude stumbled with his own feet.

Madness broke out, the whole canteen becoming a battling ground. People were fighting each other over absolutely nothing, throwing punches in the air.

“Tommy!”, he shouted angrily, while the younger Miller turned around and simply smiled.

That fucking pissed him off big time.

“Are you fucking out of your mind? How much have you been drinking?!”, Joel wanted to punch his brother so bad, he really had to control himself.

“Not enough”, he babbled.

As Joel approached his brother, ready to fight him if necessary, the man he had pushed away from Tommy tapped his shoulder. When Joel turned around, the dude punched him in the face and then stabbed him in the lower stomach.

Joel froze for a second, his back slightly curved, his brain coming to terms with what just had happened. He looked down while his hand gripped the handle of the knife. He knew not to remove it because it was the blade what prevented him from bleeding out. Then Joel glanced back up at the same guy and, without thinking, he removed the knife from his flesh and sticked it on the man’s shoulder with a growl.

Joel’s wound started to bleed like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Not that he noticed anyway, because hell literally broke loose.

It wasn’t late late, only ten in the evening, but none of the brothers was around when you returned home, which was weird. You could understand if Joel was avoiding you, but Tommy? You frowned as you called for them, shutting the main door behind you. Nothing, no reply at all.

Before you could walk to the living room to see if there was a note or something, someone knocked on the door.

You looked through the peephole. Joyce was standing outside, worry wrinkling her aged face. You opened the door.

“What’s the matter, Joyce?”

“It’s Joel, he’s in the infirmary”, she whispered while placing a soft hand on your forearm.

You just stared at her, bewildered.

“Huh? The where?”, you repeated, while her words started to sink in, your stomach contracting with fear.

“Come with me, kiddo”, Joyce took your hand, guiding you through the apartment building.

The next time you blinked, you were in an outbuilding outside the headquarters. Joyce palmed your hand with hers, in a calming gesture, while she took you to the far end of the shelter. The old lady planted you in front of Joel’s bed, and let go of you with a “take care”.

You stood there for a long minute, still trying to grasp what the hell had happened. He was asleep, his head slightly tilted away from you ― or so you hoped he was. Joel had no shirt on, a bloody bandage covering the right side of his abdomen. You got closer, your heart pounding in your throat.

“He’s fine, it’s just a scratch”, you looked up, befuddled.

Tommy was sitting in a plastic chair on the other side of the bed. He was crouching forwards, his elbow against his knee, head pressing against the palm of his hand. Tommy then smiled, which completely perplexed you.

You were about to reply, but suddenly Joel did instead.

“Fuck off, Tommy. Get your ass somewhere else”, he gritted his teeth.

You hadn’t noticed it yet, but you had been holding your breath, because suddenly you felt a stone being lifted off your chest. You glanced at the younger Miller, who had gotten up with a smile. When he walked past you to go outside, you smelled it. The stench of alcohol made you wrinkle your nose unconsciously.

Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist to get your attention, so you turned around to look at him, so confused you couldn’t even form a sentence. Joel had already adjusted the pillow on his back so he could be somewhat sat up.

“It’s alright, no need to cry”, he said raising one of his hands to sweep away your tears.

You had not realised you were crying. Giving it a second thought, you probably had been since you left home. You pursed your lips and nodded, quietening your sobs.

“What…?”, you muttered, resting your cheek against his palm before placing a kiss on it.

“Tommy got into a fight in the canteen. He’s so drunk he probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow. A man tried to stab him, and I got in the way ― that’s all, sweetheart. No serious damage, just some stitches”, he tried to calm you.

You wished Tommy was still in the room, because you would have loved to slap the shit out of him for being so irresponsible. What the hell was he thinking? Joel was hurt because of him, and he had just left smiling as if it wasn’t so serious.

“Just leave him be, it’s worthless trying to speak to him in such a state”, something in Joel’s voice told you this wasn’t the first time he had been in this situation.

“Are you sure you’re fine? Joel, please, don’t lie to me―”, you mustered, trying to keep your tears in check, as you caressed his cheek.

He heavily sighed as he scooted over to one end of the tiny bed, leaving enough space for you to join him. You got on the gurney quickly, nestling against him, your arm across his chest in a half embrace. His body heat calmed your nerves a bit, although your hands were still shaking.

“I’m fine, I’m not lying. They won’t let me leave yet though, the nurse said I need to stay here for a couple of hours, until she’s certain the bleeding has stopped”, he explained, his fingertips tracing the shape of your right shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere”, you said with a small voice, your left cheek against his chest.

Joel didn’t fight you on that, so you stayed by his side. His left hand was resting just below your face, his broken watch strapped around his wrist. You bowed your head a bit and kissed his knuckles.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I thought fixing your watch was a nice thing to do, considering it’s been broken since I met you”, you tried to explain yourself, but Joel hushed you by cupping your chin so your eyes would meet his.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know you meant well. It’s just…”, you heard him gulp down, as if the next words were extremely painful to say out loud. “Sarah fixed this watch for me on my last birthday. It’s been stuck at 2.40 AM since… since we both got shot. One of the bullets broke it”, he recounted in a husked voice, his brown eyes focused on the timeless sphere.

Then it hit you. That was Sarah’s time of death. And, unknowingly, you almost ruined the last memento Joel possessed of his daughter. His most precious treasure. You felt sick to your stomach at the mere idea of being responsible for such a thing. Had you known, you would have never even considered doing what you had planned.

“Gosh, Joel, I’m sorry. I swear to you I didn’t know”, you breathed out desperately.

“I know, baby. I should have told you that instead of getting angry and for that I apologise, but I just couldn’t…”, he clenched his jaw, and you tried to soften his expression with the touch of your fingers.

“Don’t apologise, please”, you kissed his bearded jaw and remained in comfortable silence for the next two hours, until Joel was finally discharged.

The next day you both stayed home. Tommy had tried to apologise when he came back to his senses, but Joel was having none of it. The younger Miller eventually understood that his brother just needed space until he decided to forgive him and gave up in his efforts. You were alone with Joel all day, making sure he was okay and helping him clean the wound. Those stitches were going to leave a nasty scar on him, but it was better than the alternative. It was healing well, no signs of infection, for which you were so pleased ― probably more than him. You almost had to tie him to the bed so he would stop fidgeting around ― Joel was going to get the wound open again if he didn’t remain still for a bit.

You knew Joel was just trying to keep his brain busy because this day marked a year since Sarah was wrongly snatched from his life. That was why he was so taciturn and quiet today, and you let him be for the most part.

When he sat down on the couch in the afternoon, you just nestled against his body, in silence, his arm affectionately enveloping you.

Nighttime came around soon enough, and you both got into bed. Joel spooned you as soon as he laid down behind you, his right arm hugging you, his chest against your back. You soon fell asleep in his warm embrace, feeling protected and content.

Joel woke up a few hours later, one of his recurrent nightmares haunting him. He grumbled in displeasure and got out of bed to change the dressing over the wound. He did so efficiently and returned to bed, slipping under the bedsheets quietly.

Another hour went by, and he was still awake, his eyes on the ceiling.

He rolled onto his left side and saw you sleeping peacefully, in the exact same position you fell asleep. You had not moved one inch. Joel smiled softly as he got closer to you, sliding his arm around your waist and dragging you over to him, looking for your soothing warmth.

Unconsciously, you wiggled your hips to bury your butt in his bulge, and Joel contained a pitiful moan. Your perfectly round ass was innocently embedded in his groin. Now he was sure as hell he was not going to be able to fall back asleep. Irremediably, he pressed his manhood against your buttocks again, looking for that friction.

Joel felt his cock tense up, an erection taking hold. He freed his manhood, slowly pumping himself ― his leaky tip brushing your asscheek until a wet patch adorned your panties. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t resist. You were all curled up, drooling on the pillow, faintly snoring, your knees slightly bent. He cut the distance between you and shoved his dick in your thigh gap, his shaft rubbing against your pussy covered by your underwear.

Sweat gathered on his brow as he rocked his pelvis back and forth, your thighs sweetly compressing his cock ― the tip feeling cold when it overhung on the other side. Joel kissed your shoulder, his hand gently placed on your hip to steady himself.

“C’mon, baby, wake up”, he husked near your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe.

You hummed, half awake. You felt your body being rocked, your eyes fluttering open and looking downwards. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Joel’s glans sticking out through your thigh nook, then disappearing from sight to reappear again. You smiled pleasantly, shutting your eyes, as you felt your needy cunt melt for him. You pursed your lips with delight.

“Can I have my birthday present again, sweetheart?”, he whispered in a constrained tone.

You nodded, scatterbrained.

You were drenching your underwear so bad, there was a visible damp, darken spot right in the middle. Joel pulled back from in between your legs and pushed the bridge of your panties to one side. He lodged his cock in between your puffy lips, sliding it through your entire slit a couple of times to douse himself with your fluids.

“You’re soaking wet, baby”, he muttered as you let out a soft moan when Joel pressed his tip against your dripping hole, your flesh parting as the Red Sea.

Then Joel slowly pushed his hard cock in inch by inch down to his balls. His right arm hugged you, poising you in place and sneaking his hand under your pyjama top to hold one of your full breasts. He stilled for a second, feeling your cunt sheathing him like a warm glove. He thrusted once, twice, thrice. You lost count after that, Joel plunging into you from behind, gaining erratic speed. You grasped the bedsheet in your fist, your spit pooling on the pillowcase.

You placed a hand on your mound and a few seconds later, you slipped it under your panties. With the palm against your clit to cause some grinding, you could feel Joel coming in and out of you in between your index and middle fingers. Your gushing cunt started palpitating around his slick cock, your inner walls squeezing him hard as you came, mewling like a kitten in heat.

Joel quickly followed you, his cum filling you up, breathing roughly behind you. You tilted your head towards your right to look at him over your shoulder. He kissed you, first gently, then more demanding, while his dick was still throbbing with the last wave of his release. Joel pinched your nipple before freeing your mouth.

“There you go, sweetheart, so you don’t forget who you and your tight pussy belong to”, he groaned as he pulled out of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you said gratefully.

Joel put your underwear back in place and pressed the palm of his hand against your wet panties, his cum trickling out with yours and swamping the piece of clothing even more, saturating it, almost as if you had pissed yourself.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’”, he kissed the nape of your neck, his hand still lodged in your thigh gap, hard pressed against your satisfied, clothed pussy. You loved how possessive he was of you, literally claiming your cunt for himself at every chance he got.

With a pleased sigh, you tucked your hands under your head and fell back asleep within seconds.

The earth was round again.

[ahqkas]

♯ TO LIKE YOU OR LOVE YOU ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! theodore nott was known to be just like an eurasian magpie — drawn by nature to snatch up and fly off with shiny things. it was no surprise the two of you found yourself in possession of a time turner (which certainly showed you an interesting image) ( based on this rq.!! )

WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, time traveling, friends to lovers + lmk of more if found !!

WORD COUNT! 1.8k

NOTES! i love this prompt sm u have no idea how excited i was to find a request for it ☹️☹️ this is a repost bc tumblr wasn’t showing this in the tags. all the credits to the devider bellow belong to @/plutism !

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

TIME WAS THE MOST INTERESTING THING A HUMAN RACE COULD HAVE STUMBLED UPON. It was woven with infinite threads of moments, decisions, and possibilities. Each thread held the potential to shape the fabric of the future in ways unimaginable. It was both a river, flowing inevitably forward, and a maze of paths that twisted and turned, leading to dramatic outcomes. The very idea that time could be manipulated, that one could step outside its relentless march, was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

And Theodore Nott managed to do just that.

The passage of time was like a dance between light and shadow, where the present moment was a balancing act on the razor's edge of now. Like the White Swan and the Black Swan. Memories of the past tugged at the heart, whispering tales of days gone by, while the future beckoned with a siren's call of unknown adventures and uncharted territories.

Time was both a friend and an enemy. It was a healer, softening the edges of pain and grief with its gentle touch, allowing wounds to scar over and hearts to mend. Yet, it was also a thief, stealthily stealing youth, opportunities, and moments that could never be reclaimed. It moved with a steady, unyielding pace, indifferent to the desires and pleas of those who wished to slow it down or speed it up.

And with a Time-Turner, one could do marvelous things. This delicate device, seemingly unassuming with its petite hourglass and golden frame, held within it the power to transcend the natural flow of time. It was a key to the past and the future, a tool for exploration, and a bridge to moments that had long since passed.

The Time-Turner allowed its bearer to step beyond the boundaries of the present, to revisit decisions and events with the wisdom of hindsight. It offered a chance to right wrongs, to experience lost opportunities anew, and to glimpse the world that was awaiting. Each turn of the hourglass was a dance with destiny.

But the true marvel of the Time-Turner lay not just in its ability to revisit the past, but in the taunting glimpse it offered into the future. To step beyond the present and witness what lay ahead was a privilege reserved for the brave and the curious. The future, with its infinite branches and pathways, was a place full of dreams and nightmares, where every possibility coexisted in a symphony of potential outcomes. Everything could be possible in the future.

The golden chain of the forbidden magical item hung in Theo's grasp as he presented it in front of you, showing you the new possession he managed to get his grasp on. You didn't know how and from where, and you were positive you didn't even want to know the details. The delicate hourglass within the frame shimmered with an almost ethereal glow, hinting at the ancient magic contained in its confines.

His eyes, a pretty shade of Italian skies and deep seas, gleamed with a mixture of mischief and carefulness as he looked at you through his eyelashes.

"I'm certain you're familiar with this, am I right?" he asked, the tone of his voice low and conspiratorial, as if he were sharing a treasured secret with you. And at some point, he truly was, because what the two of you were about to do was something forbidden.

You nodded slowly at his words, your gaze fixed on the delicate device between his fingers. Whispers of its powers had circulated through the halls of Hogwarts, tales of old wizards and witches who had bent time to their will, reliving moments or altering their paths. But seeing one in Theo's hands, real and touchable, was something entirely different. The Time-Turner pulsed with promising adventures beyond the ways of the present.

"How did you get one of these? They're forbidden."

"Let's just say I have my ways," a hint of smirk danced at the edge of his lips upon his answer. He was mysterious like that, the Slytherin. Working years on creating the perfect facade for his persona: the quiet and intelligent student to most of Hogwarts, the cunning and bold boy to his closest ones. You had to admit, he was really one of the smartest students in your year. No one would ever suspect him for the acts he had done. "It's about knowing the right people and being in the right place at the right time."

Raising an eyebrow at his poorly said explanation, clearly wanting to hear more, you gave him a pointed look, but Theo just chuckled softly and laced your fingers together in one, the Time-Turner now caged in your joined palms. "Don't worry about it. Just trust me."

His reassurance did little to satisfy your curiosity, but there was something about the confidence in his voice that made you want to believe him. Besides, the allure of the Time-Turner was far too great and enticing to resist.

"Okay," you breathed out in a nervous exhale. Theo swung the chain of the magical device around both your and his neck, bringing you even closer than before. His fingers set the hourglass into motion with a synchronized turn. The world around you shimmered and blurred, the magic of the Time-Turner whisking you away from the present. Your stomach ached a little at the sensation, and when the whirlwind of colours finally ceased, you found yourself standing on the exact same spot, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

The warm summer air was still the same, the sun casting a golden hue over the grounds of Hogwarts. Before you could fully grasp where — or when — you were, you heard voices nearby. And they sounded all too familiar.

Instinctively, you and Theo ducked behind the huge batch of Hagrid's gigantic orange pumpkins, peeking out cautiously to see who it was. What you saw made your breath hitch in the back of your throat. Just a few yards away, strolling casually along the path that led the Quidditch pitch to the castle, were two people you recognized immediately. But it wasn't just their faces that were familiar; it was everything about them.

It was you. And Theo.

Only, you both looked older — just by a year or two, but the difference was noticeable. Your older self walked slightly ahead, your hand loosely held by older Theo's as you seemed to chat so easily with each other from the distance. The sight was surreal, as if you were watching a scene from one of your friends' muggle movies full of romance and comedy.

Your older self laughed at something the older Theo had said, the sound ringing out in the stillness of the day. There was a lightness to your step, an ease in your movements that spoke of comfort and confidence. You looked happy — truly happy — in a way that filled you with a strange mix of emotions.

Older Theo, too, looked different. He seemed more relaxed, his usual guarded expression softened into something more open, more at peace. The way he looked at you — like you hung the stars on the night sky just for him — was something you'd never seen before, at least not from this Theo, your Theo, standing beside you now. The affection between your future selves was a sight to see, and you wondered in what universe was this really happening. Could it be your very own?

The two of them stopped walking near the entrance to the castle, close enough to feel the homely feeling Hogwarts provided and far enough to stray from any onlookers. Older Theo pulled the older you gently toward him until you were standing close, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so intimate, so familiar, that it made your heart ache with a longing you hadn't fully acknowledged until now. Your older self leaned into his touch, smiling up at him in a way that made it clear how much you openly cared for him.

And then, in a moment that made you widen your eyes from the unexpected gesture, older Theo dipped his head and kissed the older you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, lingering kiss. Watching it was like seeing a secret version of your future — a future where you and Theo were more than just friends, where you were something much deeper, something lasting.

Beside you, the present-day Theo was silent, the look in your eyes matching yours as he took in the scene before him. You could feel the tension radiating off him, the way his hand gripped yours just a little too tightly. This was as much a revelation for him as it was for you — a glimpse into a future neither of you had dared to dream about.

When your older selves ended the kiss, your older self smiled softly at the boy, leaning into his touch when his lips met your forehead. They stood like that for a moment, wrapped up in their own little world, before older Theo spoke, his voice carrying on the wind just enough for you to hear.

"Did you see the look on Malfoy's face when he missed that last shot?" a smirk formed on your, apparently, boyfriend's face as he intertwined his fingers with yours and began to lead the way towards to castle yet again. "I thought he was going to hex his broom out of sheer frustration."

"I'm surprised he didn't. You know how he's with Quidditch — he treats every practice like it's the World Cup final."

The words echoed in the silence around you, sinking into your mind and heart like a promise — a promise of what could be, if you both were brave enough to act upon it.

Before either of you could process what you'd just witnessed, the familiar pull of the Time-Turner gripped you again, the world dissolving into a blur of colors and sounds. When you landed back in your own time, the warm summer day had been replaced by the cool shadows of the evening, and the grounds of Hogwarts were once again quiet.

Theo's hand was still in yours, his grip firm as if he feared letting go would make the memory of what you'd just seen slip away. You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his in a shared surprise. The future you'd just witnessed was no longer some distant, abstract concept — it was real, and it was possible. The only thing standing in the way was the courage to take that first step.

Theo's expression was a mixture of shock and something deeper, something more profound. He looked at you as if seeing you for the first time, really seeing you, and in that moment, you realized that the future wasn't just something that happened to you. It was something you created, moment by moment, choice by choice.

And in that instant, you knew that whatever came next, you wanted it to be with him.