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misserabella · 1 year ago

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stray. pt7

joel miller x fem! reader

< previous chapter

summary; after saving Joel and Ellie from the brink of death, you get caught with having to live with two more strays…, and you don’t do strays.

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

warnings for chapter 7; +18 content! minors dni!, making out, sexual tension, dirty talking, oral (r! receiving), nipple and tit play, hickeys, piv sex, unprotected piv sex (don’t do this guys), choking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, praising, breeding kink, creampie…

a/n; chapter 6 was really the last chapter, but i wrote a 7th for y’all ‘cause i know you’ve been waiting for this! 😫🤭😼

Kissing Joel had become like breathing air after have been drowning.

His arms had become your favorite place to live in, the only place where you felt truly face after a whole life of surviving.

Since you had agreed to stop running from him that night on your balcony, Joel had been unable to stop his need to keep you close.

You still shared your cigarettes late at night, and maybe even more when the kisses that you shared surely had started to heat up. It’d been almost 3 months.

Three months in which you hadn’t felt anything more than happiness. Watching Ellie slowly make friends, trying not to laugh at her little comebacks against Joel every time they’d bicker, stealing you every now and then for the night from Joel’s arms —for which he wasn’t happy about— when she’d have nightmares, teaching her how to draw, watching old horror films with her ‘till she’d fall asleep…

She had become less scared, more dependent of you, seeing you like someone she could rely on, someone she could finally love without the fear of them abandoning her or dying.

Your little apartment had become a home. Your home. Your home that now stood decorated in even more photos of the three of you, of Ellie swimming in the lake —since finally summer had come and the weather had warmed up the town—, of you and her painting together, of Joel with his face covered in silly paintings and snoring with Ellie smiling beside him, pen in hand…

There were flowers now, seemed to be that Ellie liked to draw them, and the whole apartment seemed to have come back to life for the first time since you had lost Laura.

You couldn’t believe that you could ever experience happiness again, but here you were, in between the arms of the man you loved and surrounded by nothing but love.

“Hey, Ellie! Put that down!” you screamed, as the little girl was trying to get a sip of Larry’s bear, who was not looking at the moment.

She blowed you a raspberry, putting it down with an annoyed face and going back to her drawing notebook.

“She’s smart.” Joel sighed, leaving a kiss on your temple.

“Too smart.” you retorted, shaking your head.

“Well you’re the one teaching her.” he muttered and you scoffed.

“I’m not the one who lets her drink from her alcohol.” you spat and he chuckled.

“Touché.” he whispered on the shell of your ear, his next kiss being placed on your neck.

It had been long. Too long since you had felt him, since you had had time to fully touch him, and kiss him… Since summer had come along, there had been so much work to do… Fixing fences, putting on the summer stands and bars for the holiday festivities…

Your body shivered, and he smirked against the flush of your skin.

“What is it baby? Cold?” he mockingly inquired. And of course he knew the answer to his question. It was impossible that you could be cold, not in this weather. He knew the effect he had on you, you couldn’t seem to hide it, and he loved it. Loved it how with just a couple of kisses your eyes would get heavy, how with just a mere touch you were shivering under his fingertips.

“Fuck you.”

“I wish you were, darling.” his accent was thick, his voice too, and it send down your spine this incredible warmth that had you pressing your thighs together.

“Joel.” you warned him. You were in public. At the town diner, sharing food and drinks with everybody. It wasn’t time for him to be teasing you.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were kissing, tongue lapping at the other and clumsy teeth clashing in need outside the diner.

The last few weeks had left you two just the minimum time to share a couple of touches and sleep. And the need had become unbearable. So much that you two seemed to be starving for each other.

“Let’s go home.” he muttered against your neck, and you nodded. Ellie would be spending the night at Larry’s anyway, so you were sure no one would really notice your absence.

He took your hand to guide you back to your apartment. His palm was warm, and her fingers thick. You couldn’t wait to feel his hands on your skin.

It wasn’t long before the door was closing behind your back and he was kissing you. This time more desperate, hungrier. You moaned on his mouth. His hair was soft in your hands, his hands rough on your hips.

“Joel…” you sighed as his lips fell to your neck.

“Shit baby…” he groaned when he felt one of your hands cupping his growing erection through his jeans.

“Need you.” you whimpered, letting him take off your tank top, leaving you exposed from the waist up.

“I know…” he cooed. “I know baby, I know.” he took you in between his arms, your legs around his hips to carry you to your bed. “I’m gonna take care of you.” he promised, taking off his own shirt. Your hands roamed his strong and wide shoulders, his chest, his stomach… He took off your pants, leaving kisses down your neck and stomach to rest in between your legs. Your breath hitched when he looked at you through his lashes, leaving a kiss to your clit from over your panties. “Can I?” he inquired, and you nodded, breath heavy and ragged. There was a wet spot soaking your underwear, and he couldn’t wait to taste you. His lips found your inner thighs as his fingers hooked on the hem of your panties and started to slowly pull them down. Your skin grew on goosebumps when the cold air of the night hit your soaked cunt. “So fucking beautiful…” he muttered as he stared at you. His pupils were dilated, and he looked at you as if you were the most beautiful painting he had ever seen.

A pornographic moan left your throat when his tongue dipped in between your dripping folds, lapping at your slick. Your back arched, and your hands quickly gripped on his hair, pushing him closer. “Fuck!”

He groaned against your pussy, drunk on your taste, licking you clean and sucking on your clit. He was eating you out like a starved man, grunting against your cunt and lapping at you as if you were his last meal.

“Pussy so sweet…”

You couldn’t stop whimpering and moaning, two of his fingers plunging inside your tight and warm walls and making you gasp for air. They were stretching you so good you could swear you were seeing stars, hitting your g spot just how you needed to fall apart.

Your grip tightened on his hair, your orgasm building quickly as you ground your hips against his mouth.

“So fucking needy…” he smirked and you whimpered. “Does it feel good baby? You’re taking my fingers so good, being such a good girl for me…” your cheeks flushed at the praise, your pussy tightening around his fingers. “You liked that baby? Like it when I praise you and call you my good girl?” you nodded. “Nuh-uh, use your big words, doll. Wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes…” you whined. “I like it when you call me your good girl.”

“Atta girl.” you moaned as he smiled before going back to your cunt, sucking on your clit as her fucking became faster, hitting your g spot over and over again.

“I’m gonna cum.” you cried out, gasping for air. He groaned against your pussy.

“You gonna cum baby?” you nodded. “Cum for me. Cum on my face.” he ordered before going back in between your thighs, and before you knew it, your orgasm was hitting you with an intensity that made your bones shake. Your moans got louder and louder as you reached your high. He fucked you through it, lapping at everything you gave him. He hummed at the taste of your sticky, warm and salty cum. He never wanted it to stop. You hissed and pulled on his hair when the overstimulation became too much, and he let go of your clit, chin and lips completely soaked on your juices. You whined at the loss of his fingers, but moaned when you saw him suck them clean.

Joel couldn’t help but moan when you pulled from his hair to make him crawl up to reach your mouth, pushing your tongue between his lips to taste yourself on his mouth. You could feel his hard cock against your cunt, the denim of his jeans bumping against your overstimulated and puffy clit.

“Wanna taste you…” you muttered against his lips and he sighed.

“If you do that I won’t last, darling.” he said, rocking his hips against your pussy, making you shiver. “And as much as I would like to feel your pretty mouth on my cock, I need to be inside you.” you moaned, nodding and helping him get completely undressed. Your tongue wetted your lips at the sight of his hard dick. It was long, with the pretties red tip bedded in pre cum and veins along the sides, and it was thick, so thick you wondered if it would even fit. His fingers had already stretched you out so much… You just needed to feel him inside, needed him to stretch you out to your limits.

He groaned when the tip made contact with your already —again— soaking wet cunt. You moaned, your nails digging on his shoulders at the feeling.

“Please Joel… I’ll be good…” you begged, and he moaned, not waiting any second to align himself with your hole and starting to push inside. The breath got punched out of your lungs at the stretch. It stung. It hurt. But it hurt so good… You whimpered, and he stopped. “No please, please… Don’t stop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” you could see in his eyes just how much he was restraining himself, his lust, his need… He was holding back. And you didn’t want that. You wanted him. Him. With his roughness, the pain and the pleasure…

“I can take it. Please Joel. I can…” a scream ripped your throat when you felt it thrust inside up to the hilt.

“Fuck…So fucking tight…” he groaned, and your nails were scratching his back as he kissed your neck, sucking bruises on your skin. He was letting you get used to the stretch, kissing you and touching your clit to make you relax. Once he felt your walls stretch around and mold to his cock, he slowly started to thrust, slowly, in and out. You were moaning with every movement of his hips. His tip kissed your cervix and had you completely drunk, stupid on his dick. “That’s it. Taking me so good… Good girl…” you whined, your legs surrounding his hips to push him closer, deeper…

“More. Please, Joel. More.” you voice was broken in need, your eyes straining in tears. He groaned, speeding up. Going harder. Fucking you just like he knew you needed. And fuck if it felt good.

Your moans were getting cut off by his fast and harsh thrusts, your boobs bouncing up and down with the snap of its hips. The room was filling up with the squelches of your cunt opening up for him, the sound of skin against skin.

“Shit. You drive me insane.” he moaned, and you swore you saw stars when one of his hands came up to your throat to choke you and keep you in place to fuck deeper into you. “So fucking good… So good for me…”

“I’m gonna… I’m cumming!” you somehow managed to babble out.

“You’re gonna cum, darling? Gonna soak my cock?” you nodded, and he went back to stimulating your clit with his fingers. You were already so sensitive due to your recent orgasm that it didn’t took long before you were creaming his dick, moaning non stop as he gave you the best orgasm you’d ever had. Your vision went completely white as he fucked your through it, his hands now harshly gripping at your hips to pull you against his thrusts, making his cock reach impossibly deeper. You were falling apart.

“Joel… Stop, something’s gonna…” but before you could finish, you were screaming, completely soaking his stomach, thighs and the sheets of the bed as you squirted. He groaned.

“Fuuuck. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum do fucking hard.” he moaned, and you whimpered.

“Inside.” you were dragging the words, lost on your pleasure, drunk on his cock. It was a sight for sore eyes. “Cum inside, please. I want it inside.” you begged, and he grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppy,

“You want it inside? Want me to fuck you full of my cum doll? Fuck a baby into you?” you nodded, mumbling ‘please’s over and over again as you felt his cock switch and moaning when you finally felt it; his cum painting your walls in white. It was warm, and so fucking thick it made you squirt again. You wanted him to cum inside over and over and over again. Until no more of it would fit inside and he would leave you dripping for a week.

He was moaning on your neck, fucking you two through it and filling you up to the brim.

“Good girl…” he praised you once you had rode it out.

And then, he made sure to lick you clean with his tongue just to fuck you and breed you once again.

And he did that over and over and over again.

The night was long. And Joel was not stopping until the only thing you would remember would be his name.

taglist!

@bubbles-for-all-of-us @hiphopdancer101universe @amethystwonders11 @mmeerraa @azxulaa @euovennia @twilightsbiggestfan @dabria14 @minaxcarter @lynndaline @frogjumps-world @cassiepascal @mdnigts @fudosl @batweildinglittlepysco @doodlebob-mp3 @boh3mian @saintmagx @scaredknight @ipadkidsworld @somebodytookmyusername @natalia42069 @cassrox @seninjakitey @maddsfilms @issybee0611 @corpsebridenightamare @eddie-munsons-slut @wren-2-d @hiroikegawa @luvwanda @hawsx3 @killcomet

pedro pascal masterlist! <3

a/n; finally!!! hope you liked it.

IF ANY OF YOU LIKE POETRY YOU SHOULD TOTALLY FOLLOW MY INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT: deadpoeetssociety🩵

xxx

#joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #tlou fic #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou2

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dkmh-news · 3 months ago

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Dacre Montgomery and Vicky Krieps say Went Up the Hill camera froze twice while filming in the brutal cold | EW

"We were not acting, we were shivering," Krieps told EW at TIFF.

Went Up the Hill's main characters Jack (Dacre Montgomery) and Jill (Vicky Krieps), might be reminiscent of a nursery rhyme, but this story is more of a nightmare.

That's true for audiences of the supernatural, horror thriller directed by Samuel Van Grinsven, but also for its stars, who told Entertainment Weekly at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival that shooting some scenes were particularly tough, because it involved them and an ice-cold lake.

"The tip of my pen, in the scene where I'm painting on the page, froze during the take," Montgomery said. "It was like the scene from The Day After Tomorrow where the helicopter freezes in the air and then falls down... It was absolutely freezing. But I think again, all of it, I wouldn't have it any other way because I still feel like it's real. My lips are blue, your lips are blue. We're shivering."

The costars recalled that the camera battery froze twice.

Krieps added, "Someone asked me about the acting, but we were not acting, we were shivering. We couldn't talk."

In the movie, Montgomery's character Jack visits a remote area in New Zealand, where they filmed, to attend the funeral of his estranged mother. He meets Jill, who was married to his mother, and the spirit of his mother, who inhabits the bodies of both Jack and Jill. The Stranger Things actor remembered the shoot as "the coldest I've ever been."

Krieps, who's known for her work in Old and Phantom Thread, pointed out that her costar is not used to the cold.

"He's from Australia," she said, "and he was looking with these two eyes of, like, 'I cannot believe it. I can't believe it. This is actually happening.'

Montgomery was wearing a wetsuit under his costume, but it didn't help much.

"The lake, however, despite how cold it was, was not frozen over," he said. "So the practical element was done in a sort of dirt pit near the house where they built a plexiglass frame and then had a portion of the ice and a portion of blue screen laid around it. But we were still outside. We went on stage. There was no cloud cover, so all of the warm air had left and it was minus eight and there was frost."

#dacre montgomery #went up the hill #vicky krieps #toronto film festival #tiff 2024

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genkinahito · 2 years ago

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JFF+ INDEPENDENT CINEMA: A Selection of Japanese Independent Films to Stream in 2022/23

JFF+ INDEPENDENT CINEMA: A Selection of Japanese Independent Films to Stream @jffplus

Over the last few years. the Japan Foundation has set up opportunities for people around the world to watch Japanese films via streaming via Japanese Film Festival+. This year, they have teamed up with mini theatres (small independent cinemas) across Japan to programme 12 indie films for people to stream online for free. From December 15th, people can go to the website JFF+ INDEPENDENT CINEMA to…

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#A Little Girl&039;s Dream #Double Layered Town / Making a Song to Replace Our Positions #Drive into the Night #Film Festival #hottamaru・days #In the Distance #Japan Foundation #Japanese Film Festival+#Japanese Film Trailers.#Kaze no Hamon #Leaving on the 15th Spring #On the Edge of Their Seats #Shiver #Somebody’s Flowers #What Can You Do about It #Wonderwall

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cheesy09 · 8 months ago

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[CN] Kiro's Four-Leaf Clover Date

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

Do note that this date takes place just some time after Kiro's Soundwaves Mind's Quest :>

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 1]

February 13th, 4 p.m.

I push open the door to my house and sneakily poke my head through the door crack to look around.

MC: Kiro...?

Seeing that the living room is still quiet, I breathe a sigh of relief and pull in the trailer of express delivery behind me.

Taking in the small mountain of express delivery and shopping bags, I roll up my sleeves and briefly put them in order.

MC: Ingredients, cola, decorations...

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. After having just returned from Los Angeles, we decided to spend the holiday at home, having a big meal and watching a movie together.

But even so... I was still keen on preparing some surprises for him to make the day more special.

So before he got off work, I asked for leave and snuck back.

Looking at the stuffed refrigerator, I elatedly pick up a few of the express boxes and walk towards the storage room, ready to hide them first.

At one step away from the storage room, a panicked silhouette suddenly flashes down from the second floor. I shiver in fright before I finally take a look at the person gasping for air in front of me.

Kiro stands in front of me wrapped in a bath towel, his slightly heaving chest still dripping with water droplets. His hair appears half wet, as if he was only halfway through washing it.

MC: You - Weren't you supposed to be filming tonight? Why are you back?

I feign composure and quietly hide the express box in my arms behind my back and press it against the wall.

Stunned, he awkwardly rubs his forhead.

Kiro: Finished work early and came back. What about you? Didn't you say you had to work overtime today...?

MC: Ah! My meeting was temporarily canceled... But I was afraid of interrupting your shoot, so I came back without telling you, haha~

At that moment, Kiro seems to notice something and looks behind me.

Kiro: What are you holding behind you?

MC: Oh, it's nothing, just a parcel. I was planning on putting it in the storage room.

I move to open the door, but Kiro suddenly grabs a hold of my wrist.

He seems to be taken aback by his own reaction for a moment. He then slowly lets go of my hand and scratches his head with a dry smile.

Kiro: Wait, do go in just yet... Uh, it seems like a super invincible insect ran inside!

He feigns a horrified expression and gestures to me about the "body size" of the insect to be the size of a fist. I immediately shrink my neck in fear.

MC: Are you serious? That's terrifying....

Kiro: Of course. It looks terrifying as well.

Kiro: So give me the boxes. Once I'm done with it, I'll put them in for you.

Seeing him reach out to take away my box, I immediately duck away and point to the small balcony with a smile.

MC: I'll put them on the small balcony by myself~ You can go finish off your shower. You won't feel good if you catch a cold later.

MC: Just take your time taking care of the bugs~

Kiro: Don't worry, I'll quickly take care of it and then go wash off. Otherwise, if I leave you alone with it on the first floor, you'll definitely be scared.

MC: All right!

The very next second, we each scurry away in separate directions.

Kiro runs into the storage room with a bang, and I return to the door and hide away all the remaining "surprises" on the small balcony.

In order for it to avoid being discovered, I throw several plastic covers on top of it.

In the distance, I hear the sounds of ping-ping-pong-pong come from the storage room, as if a fierce battle between human and insects is taking place.

Kiro: DON'T MOVE, LET'S SEE WHERE YOU CAN RUN TO!!

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 2]

Boom..!

With the festivities of the Spring Festival still ongoing, clusters of fireworks bloom in the night sky.

Considered that he'd unexpectedly hindered my plans, I tentatively decide to wait until he falls asleep to put my plan into action.

But with the fireworks being so loud, such an environment doesn't seem very conducive for a peaceful slumber...

Wanting to see if he's asleep, I open my eyes to sneak a peek, but am unexpectedly met with a pair of sparkling orbs.

Kiro: Are the fireworks too loud for you to sleep?

MC: ...Yeah.

MC: And you? You seem to be in a good mood...

After I give a wry smile, I see him turn around and grab a pair of earplugs from the bedside table. He puts one into my ears.

The tight touch instantly fills my eardrums, quietly dissipating the sound of fireworks in the distance.

Kiro: I'm not sleepy, but I do want to be a good and energetic boyfriend tomorrow.

Kiro: So I've gotta go to bed early and recharge my batteries~

I chuckle and point at our other lonely ears.

MC: What about the other ear? How about I go to the living room and find another pair of earplugs.

Kiro: By the time to come back from your trip, the bed will get cold again...

He wraps his arm around my waist and prompts me to lie face to face with him, pointing at our ears that are pressed to the pillow.

Kiro: We'll just use physical noise reduction so that we can watch each other sleep without irritating our ears. Kill two birds with one stone.

And just like that, we smile and gaze at each other in this quiet world until our eyelids start to droop.

So as to not fall asleep, I press my fingertips into my palms and rehearse in my mind the surprise I would give him.

But when I open my eyes again, the clock on the bedside table has silently moved a few paces forward. It's almost dawn.

My eyes widen in fright, my heart beats rapidly, and I gasp... I almost overslept.

While I'm glad that I managed to wake up in time, I quietly look at the person next to my pillow. His long and even breaths fall softly by my ear, telling me that he is peacefully asleep.

I breathe a sigh of relied, slowly pull away his palm and tiptoe out of bed.

Looking at the slippers on the ground, I hesitate for two seconds and decide to go barefoot.

This way I don't have to worry about waking him up~

Soon, I come to the small balcony and quietly open the express boxes one by one.

Picnic blanket, star lamp, bear pendant, projection cloth, projector... After confirming that everything was in place, I take out the USB flash drive from my bag.

Knowing that it contained the "love montage" that I carefully edited with him in mind, I am unable to keep myself from shaking it with joy.

MC: Hum hum, just wait till I sweep you off your feet, Kiro~

I pick up the projection cloth and the projector and walk into the yard. The fireworks outside had long since stopped, and there wasn't a hint of silver in the sky.

By the light of the flashlight I placed on the lawn, I carefully set up the venue for the outdoor screening.

MC: It's a good thing that we haven't picked up Apple Box and Cello from Savin's place yet, or else they'd have been barking and meowing next to my feet...

Perhaps due to how quiet it was, I couldn't help but talk to myself.

At that moment, by the light of the flashlight, I catch something swaying in the wind. I bend and squat down curiously.

MC: Is this... a four-leaf clover?!

Looking at this legendary "lucky" symbol lying in a tuft of grass, I reach out my hand and gently stroke it with joy and astonishment.

MC: Strange, why is this here in the yard?

MC: Did Apple Box secretly bring it from outside and then it took root here?

Just as I plan on waiting for Kiro to wake up and share this "discovery", I suddenly feel something in my heart and start laughing.

Then, I take the bear pendant from the decoration and place it next to it, marking the spot.

MC: When it get's brighter, I'll share it with him in a better way~

Saying this, I stand up, clap my hands and walk towards the storage room, ready to take out the tent and set it up.

But as soon as I walk to the door, I am suddenly reminded of something and my fingertips fearfully stop on the doorknob.

The bugs... he should have taken care of them, right?

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 3]

After mentally preparing myself several times, I slowly push open the door and turn on the light - and the very next second, I am left stunned in place.

The sweet fragrance of flowers washes over me, making me feel like I have seen all of spring.

The room is filled with neatly arranged flowerpots, and the blooming flowers sway in the wind, just like a Monet oil painting.

The humidifier placed in the corner kept spraying water mist, blurring my vision again and again.

Looking at this sea of flowers, I almost forget that this storage room was once covered in iron shelves.

In my prolonged state of shock, someone suddenly hugs me gently around the waist and pulls me into a warm embrace.

Kiro: I didn't expect you to find out...

Kiro: My plan was to secretly move them to the yard tomorrow.

Kiro: Then I'd appear like a magician again, and tell you that spring was coming~

He mumbles, not seeming to be fully awake yet, and yawns several times while talking.

Looking at this sea of flowers, the scene from yesterday comes to mind again. His hurried figure and unnatural voice all seem to bear answers at this moment.

Turns out that this person also prepared a Valentine's Day surprise for me.

Suddenly, a hint of sweetness fills my heart. I turn around, smile and wrap my arms around the back of his neck.

MC: I wondered why you were acting a little strange this afternoon... So you were afraid that I'd find out in advance?

MC: You can just tell me directly. Even if it's not so perfect, I still like it a lot.

Kiro: Are you talking about me? Aren't you the same?

He half-closed his eyes and touched his nose against mine.

Kiro: What were you doing in the yard in the middle of the night? I saw you "jumping up and down" out there through the cracks in the curtain.

MC: Eh? Did - did you see it all?

Kiro: Yep, there was a projector and a star lamp...

Kiro: MC, did you prepare a grand family outdoor movie for me?

Watching this person guess a lot of it at once, I deliberately pout.

MC: Unexpectedly, we didn't manage to hide out surprises from each other. How do I "salvage" this...

Kiro: No need to ask, of course. I'll arrange the rest with you.

Kiro: Are you here to pick up the tent? I put it in the guestroom when I packed it up today. Come on.

MC: Now? Don't you want to sleep? I noticed that you haven't gotten a break since we got back from LA.

Kiro: I went to bed early last night on purpose~

Kiro: Besides, today is Valentine's Day, and I have to cherish every minute of it.

Just as Kiro is about to pull me away, he suddenly looks down as if noticing something.

Then he sighs, squat down and gently rubs my cold feet with both of his hands.

Kiro: You're so silly, Miss Chips.

Kiro: Did you not wear your slippers on purpose because you were afraid of waking me up?

MC: Haha... Actually it's not that cold. Our home has floor heating.

Kiro: That's not okay.

As he mutters to himself, he picks me up slightly and lets me step on his soft slippers.

In an instant, we have seemingly turned into two little penguins, waddling towards the bedroom together.

Kiro and I start working together to prepare our Valentine's Day plans.

First, we spread the flowers in the storage room all over the yard, and then take out the tent and set it up together. After smashing the last nail in place, I get into the tent and lie down tiredly.

MC: ....!

At that moment, I notice the ceiling of the tent covered with photos of us, just like the ones in the RV not long ago. Each photo has captured moments that have escaped my notice before--

There's a photo of me snoozing at the hotel in Los Angeles, half of my head covered by the quilt;

There was also one of me with a sad look on my face as I stood in front of a supermarket shelf, wondering which snacks to buy;

And then there was also one of me smiling as I raised a broom as a guitar while we were cleaning together;

Noticing that I haven't said anything, Kiro opens the flap and sees that I am already lying inside. He smiles helplessly.

Kiro: I pasted them on the top of the tent on purpose, hoping that you'd find it later.

Kiro: Looks like you unexpectedly uncovered my final "trump card" in advance as well!

Seeing Kiro's mock "depression", I grin even more happily, sit up with crossed-legs and wink at him.

MC: Kiro, I'm especially grateful for one thing right now.

Kiro: ....?

MC: Fortunately, you and I aren't colleagues, otherwise we'd definitely be clashing every time we proposed topics for a program!

Kiro: Wait...! Did you also prepare a "photo wall"?

I shake my head mysteriously, pull him to the picnic blanket and point at the projection screen directly in front of me.

MC: Dear Mr. Kiro, are you ready to start a romantic day with me now?

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 4]

Just as Kiro is about to nod, he suddenly looks at me, then looks down at himself, and quickly stretches out his hands to shout stop.

Kiro: Not yet, wait a minute, I'll be right back.

Watching him run off, I belatedly come to a realization, glance at my pajamas and scurry away immediately.

In the dark cloakroom, we continuously rummage through all kinds of clothes.

Looking at each other's hurried and messy appearances, a sweetness gradually overtakes my heart, for some reason.

When it comes to "wanting the person you like to see your best side"... It seems that no matter how many times we repeat this, that original thrill and expectation will never be lost.

Finally, I manage to find a light pink dress in a cabinet filled with clothes.

At almost the same time, Kiro also puts on a clean and refreshing coat which exactly matches with the color of my outfit.

When we get back to the yard, we seat ourselves on the picnic blanket, shoulder to shoulder. I turn on the projector and play our "love movie"--

On the screen, two little bears jump towards each other from both sides of the screen and hug each other sweetly. Love bubble keep popping up on their little heads, and when they fall to the ground, they turn into pieces of golden potato chips.

Soon, cute lettering appears in the center of the screen-- "Little Bear Pictures".

Kiro suddenly laughs and pinches my palm in surprise.

Kiro: Turns out that another surprise for me was hidden here.

MC: Very cute right~

MC: Although it's only around ten seconds long, I checked out a lot of special effects tutorials and worked on it for several days and nights before making it.

Kiro: It is very cute. But the you who prepares these surprises for me so earnestly... is the one who deserves first place!

Just as he's about to add something more, his eyes are drawn to screen in the next instance.

In the picture, there are countless moments of us.

Like the photos in the tent, here are countless aspects of "him" from my perspective.

Him sleeping quietly while holding Apple Box, or him happily making breakfast for me in the kitchen;

Also him bending down to repair the leaking water pipe seriously, and him earnestly writing his music scores in the study room;

But no matter which side of him he is, as long as I call his name...

He'd look back at me in an instant and give me the brightest smile.

I cannot help but take a peek at Kiro, and find him watching intently. Although he doesn't utter a work, the raised corners of his lips say everything.

After an unknown amount of time, our movie temporarily ends with the appearance of the subtitle "To be continued".

At this moment, the sky is completely bright, it's shine akin to that of a pearl's.

MC: Happy Valentine's Day, Kiro.

MC: Although this festival happens every year, I still want to give you the best on this day.

MC: But I also know very well that even the best is not enough.

MC: So whether it's beautiful scenery, delicious food, or endless happiness... I want to give it all to you.

Watching me speak with such confidence, Kiro smiles and strokes my forehead.

Kiro: Silly Miss Chips, you don't have to do anything. I'm already very happy.

MC: How can that be... You should know better than me, right?

MC: Giving everything to the person you like is another form of happiness.

MC: But we still got really lucky this time, because amongst thousands of people, the gods took notice of us~

MC: For He... He seems to be slightly touched by us and gave us a "gift"~

Kiro: ....?

Within his doubtful gaze, I walk to the bear pendant with a smile and squat down.

There, stood a four-leaf clover swaying next to the bear. Different from what it was at night, it shines brightly in the sun now.

I take it off with a smile and then secretly weave the ring along its roots.

MC: Now, I want to give this "gift" to you.

I turn around, walk up to him and put the woven four-leaf clover on his ring finger.

At that moment, his long eyelashes tremble slightly.

With the breeze bowing and the sun shining brightly, I seem to see the most beautiful scenery.

Kiro: MC.

Kiro: What if I said that this isn't a gift from God?

I look at Kiro, stunned as his smile gradually brightens. He slowly intertwines his fingers with mine and at the same time, speaks word by word.

Kiro: Actually, before we went to Los Angeles, I had already planned on letting you see the yard full of flowers on this day.

Kiro: But considering that I couldn't take care of them personally for a while, I had to change my plans.

He pauses and seems to think of something again, his eyes full of tenderness.

Kiro: But when I left the market, the shopkeeper gave me an extra pack of clover seeds as a gift. He told me that this was a plant that could grow without much care. While it is inconspicuous, it's also very strong.

Looking at the "ring" on his hand, I suddenly realize that it all seemed to be like "destiny".

Kiro: As a result, they grew successfully in the yard. However, I never expected that a single four-leaf clover would actually grow among them.

Kiro: I was thinking that even though it's so rare, it's still inconspicuous.

Kiro: As long as you're not paying attention, the past will be ignored.

Kiro smiles and gently caresses my skin in the sunlight.

Kiro: But, inadvertently, it might light up a moment or day in your future.

Kiro: Maybe when you and Apple Box are playing on the lawn, or when you're watering the flowers with me, or maybe when you are depressed and distressed...

Kiro: But no matter when it was, I believed that this moment would make you happy.

Kiro: I just didn't expect that when this moment came, I would be the happiest person.

Kiro's voice grows softer and softer, and I am unable to keep to myself from gently kissing him.

The four-leaf clover sways on our interlocked fingertips, like a silent and simple intention.

Maybe it will eventually wither and turn to dust one day.

But I believe that the moment it was given will continue in this world--

Until my eternity with him.

[END]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Masterlist: Here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro #IM SORRY IM SO LATE WITH THIS ASDFGHJKL

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nilsavatar · 1 year ago

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PHOENIX | 3. UNIL

Unil: ['u.nil] dream All credits for adult Neteyam go to @cinetrix

Status: CHAPTER 3 (3/?)

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!UnknownOriginsNa’vi!Reader

Genre/Warnings: ANGST, sorrow, mentions of nearly death, romance, adventure, soulmate love, destined lovers, possible suggestive content NSFW/MDNI later on, no use of Y/N, clans never seen in films yet. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: During the battle with the SeaDragon, gunfire struck Neteyam’s heart. A mortal wound that heals itself under the astonished eyes of his brother, as if the Great Mother still did not want him with her. She has other plans for Toruk Makto's eldest son. Nevertheless, his body is weak, and he falls into a slumber from which he can no longer wake up. His vital signs are stable, yet Neteyam is slowly slipping away. He is waiting. Waiting for the girl who has been appearing in his dreams since he went into a coma.

Chapter Summary: The Festival of Lights was approaching. It was a time of gladness for the Tawkami, the most anticipated celebration of the year. As the panopyras reached their peak and spores invaded the forest, love bloomed in the air. The perfect opportunity to confess one's feelings. At such an idyllic moment, the incipit of an upheaval began to make its way into Mi'niri's heart. Starting with her dreams.

Little note: OMG! This was the most nerve-wracking chapter I have ever done. A nightmare from start to finish, it never seemed to reach the light at the end of the tunnel. I rewrote it so many times, yet it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I would add pieces, then take them out, then add them back in. As time passed, the frustration increased, and I knew there were people who were waiting for the update but whom I didn't want to disappoint. So I hope with all my heart that this endless wait was worth it. Thank you so so much🥰

If you want to be tagged in the next chapters, please just write it in the comments. I’ll gladly add y'all💕

Word Count: 9.5k

Masterlist - Request a fic

3. UNIL

“Look at her and her odd mount. They're not like us.” “She’s been rejected by her own parents, as it has been from the forest.”

The day it all began, the sky was a brilliant blue, with a few wispy clouds threatening to mar the otherwise perfect morning. Alpha Centauri’s gentleness cast a beautiful interplay of light and shadow on the jungle floor, adding an ethereal quality to the forest. Its timid warmth teased her skin as she sprinted to escape the vile draught that swept over her as soon as she had given the viperwolf cubs one last pat.

“Oe zene hivum. Hayalovay, nantangtsyìp. Makto zong.” (I must go. Until next time, puppies. Take care.)

The forest was a riot of colors: in shades of green, yellow, and brown. The clearing was rife with the scent of fallen leaves, which had littered the ground until forming small clusters around the mammoth trunk barks covered with mosses, lichens, and meandering creepers. She heard their crunch beneath her feet as she rushed through the damp soil.

The chill of the previous night’s downpour seemed to cling to her skin, every movement sending shivers down her spine. And the tension in her tired muscles mingled with the blood pounding in her ears. She adjusted her bow and increased her pace, peering at the blanket of grey-white clouds blocking the shy dawn’s pinkish glow. A few of its rays challenged the dome-shaped cumulus, rapidly growing to form a compact body, presaging dismal, harsh weather.

Get a move on, she admonished herself to run faster. Time was running out. She was almost at her destination and adamant not to get caught in the rain so close to her goal, no matter what. It lay just beyond the bend. A little rain wouldn’t deter her. Her pulse raced in time with the frenetic pace of her strides, occasionally stumbling under the bow’s weight that did not stay in rhythm.

A few lone drops plummeted innocently, in the distance already reverberated the faint echoes of the impending storm. Loud enough to overpower the agitated voices and scurrying of the prolemuris rushing for cover.

The monsoon season had begun. Who knows whether the viperwolf pack had found refuge? Were the puppies safe and sound in the warmth?

Freeing her shoulders from the bow’s string that crossed her chest, she smoothed the fringes of woven fabric that veiled her breasts and anchored to her biceps. Her ample neckline, adorned with minuscule bronze beads, flaunted a prominent teal stone that hung beautifully from her slender neck. Tiny fragments bedecked the middle of her top, resting gingerly on the sternum. A delicate repetition of the masterpiece.

With a snort, she lit a small fire and cleaned herself up at the underground spring at the back of the cavern. She revived her auburn hair and inspected herself from head to toe in the mirror of water, still not entirely used to those new accessories. They suited her, she had to admit. Gave her a much more mature, more adult air. Gifts from Kiokä to congratulate on completing the rituals.

Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted them, she told herself, fearing it might give the wrong ideas.

“Without the chief’s son tag, I’d be a jeweler. I'm always on the lookout for the weirdest materials to create something new. When I see objects others might think are just a leaf or rock, my mind starts drawing.” He scratched his throat. “You pop up in my mind in those situations. I picture you wearing the final product every single time. You are my muse.”

She definitely shouldn’t have accepted them... As she enjoyed the tickle of the water, she heard footsteps approaching. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure darting through the shadows, a large dagger in one hand and a strange contraption in the other. “Why's it not working?” he muttered. Without a second thought, Mi’niri ducked to the ground, yanking the weapon she wore at her loincloth, ready to defend herself. The boy dropped the knife and raised both arms above his head. “Mawey, mawey. Didn't mean to scare you,” he said, all worked up. “I got caught in the storm.” Now that she looked better, she could see his shins covered with dirt and small leaves, feet blackened by mud. “My bad didn’t know this place was already taken.”

Her pearly inquiring eyes darted over him, scanning every detail of his singular appearance. On the beaded choker that covered a solid portion of his neck, the midsection of which caught up towards his chest, then on the cuff that encircled his deltoid. Both objects were crafted using a technique she had never seen before, leaving her in awe. “You’re Omatikaya,” she stoned, giving him one last look before putting the knife back. The cummerbund he wore was an intricate weave of colors that could only belong to the Blue Flute, symbolizing his unwavering loyalty. The cornerstone of the clan's beliefs and practices. A gift to warriors who passed the Uniltaron (Dream Hunt). “You’re quite far from home.” ”Frankly, I have no clue how I ended up here. I was flying my ikran, but I must have fallen off. Even if I have no idea how. Never happened to me," he said and left it at that before asking: “And you?” “Me?” She arched an eyebrow. “What’s your clan? I’ve never seen Na’vi like you.” Embarrassment washed over her, and she couldn't help but blush as she looked down. There really was no end to it all. “Tawkami”. Her voice faded, and he found it difficult to comprehend her hushed words, now barely above a whisper. Despite cursing himself for making things awkward, he couldn't help but admire her beauty as she blushed. Eywa's handiwork.

What are you doing here in the woods, by yourself?” he questioned as he sat down. She wasn't sure what sort of answer he expected, or why she felt compelled to be friendly with him, to be fair. He was a complete stranger. “My usual - exploring, playing with animals.” “Playing with animals? Do you do it on the regular?” "Whenever I can. I enjoy being in their company.” Intrigued by her response, he hummed a tune under his breath. To him, the forest was a stunning ecosystem best experienced from a distance. Beyond one's line of vision, dangers lurked in every direction. Being part of this triumphant circle meant it had a hand in the clan's survival, providing them with shelter and sustenance. However, he much preferred to appreciate its true scale and magnificence from atop his ikran. To soar above the treetops with a bird’s-eye view of the dark, luxuriant foliage below, stretching out before him, revealing its secrets. Viewing it from the ground just wasn’t the same - it did not give the same feeling of freedom and relief as the sky. A safer, clearer place compared to the damp and musty forest floor, with its uneven terrain and hidden traps. Mi’niri resisted the urge to ask him what his indistinct hum meant. Silence descended on the pair, and she savored the placid expression on the young man’s face. He made eye contact with her, but it was brief as she immediately averted her eyes. They chattered about anything and everything until a distant murmur rang through the cave's mouth and silenced them, rising in sound. “They’re calling for you”. Strangely, he didn’t want her to walk off, but he knew he couldn't prevent it. She had to wake up, eventually. “Take care,” he said, with a pit in his stomach. She beamed at him, “You too”. When she smiled, he saw a glimpse of her true personality shine through. Her smile was warm and inviting. He found himself looking forward to seeing it again, as he decided he liked her smiling face.

She drowsily opened her eyes, taking a moment to register her surroundings before realizing a blurry figure was shaking her. “Niri. Niri, wake up,” was her father’s voice, “Selyao’s out here.” “What?” she asked groggily. Sílron’zem sneered, “You forgot about the Festival of Lights already? You’re supposed to help her.”

Shit.

As they walked among the groups of clan mates, her attention was split between her friend and their chores. They chatted and laughed together, enjoying that festive and cheerful moment - an occasion dear to the Tawkami.

The Festival of Lights was held once a year, when the panopyra stem's tips lit up, creating a hypnotizing bloom that lured in the spores of its fellows. An auspicious time when young Na’vi seeking a mate wore such tips as an attractant and aphrodisiac. A demonstration of one’s intentions. Couples exchanged garlands to express their love as a symbol of unity before the People. Traditionally, wedding ceremonies take place during this season.

Selyao's eyes roamed over, searching for a cozy spot to settle down. Meanwhile, she babbled animatedly about how her parents insisted she finds a mate now that her age allowed so she could fulfill her role within the clan. “Do they even realize I’m just in my early twenties?” she lamented. “They’re like, ‘If you don’t find one on your own, we’ll set one up for you’. Can’t believe how outdated they are!” A mumbling escaped Mi’niri’s lips just to feign involvement in the conversation. She assumed she was doing a decent job, thanks to nods of the head interspersed with a few monosyllables when required. When a break in her soliloquy called for them.

“Don’t get me wrong, I'm single and ready to mingle. I wanna fall head over heels. I'm just not ready to be tied down. Not gonna close any doors just yet. I mean, what if I screw up and pick the wrong one? What if we don't click? I gotta be absolutely positive before making the biggest decision in my life.” “Same here.” “I need to find someone for the Festival, anyway. Just to get them off my back for a bit,” she grunted in frustration.

As much as she sympathized with her, that situation was utterly unfamiliar to Mi’niri. Their parents couldn’t have been more at odds. The firsts were traditionalists, strict, unaware of their daughter's rebellious spirit. She regularly indulged in clandestine liaisons that often overlooked chastity. The others, instead, adopted a warm and modern approach, built on communication and trust with their daughter. And above all, on a total acceptance of the nature that characterized each family member. They would never have imposed a man on Mi’niri against her will, nor would they have pushed her to embark on a path she hadn't chosen for herself.

Normally, she would have been more active in the discussion, striving to be a good friend and give her the support she needed. But that afternoon, she was elsewhere. Scattered among the little fragments of the dream whenever she allowed her mind to wander. So crystal clear and palpable she couldn’t shake the feeling even after waking up. Lucid. Almost as if it could be mistaken for a memory that she could reach out and touch. She still seemed to smell the musky aroma of his skin, perfumed by the damp veil of rain. Strong, earthy notes spiced the air creating a pleasant fragrance all around. If she had squinted her eyelids and inhaled hard, she would have been able to visualize his slender, tall figure. It almost felt like she was living it all over again. The sinews tugged on his trained muscles. The glint of bewilderment in his beautiful golden eyes. The tepid breath blown against her neck when he'd sat at her side.

That was just the beginning of a succession of dreams she met him in. No matter how much the scenarios changed, he remained a constant. So much so that by now, when she went to bed, she expected to find him. Nonetheless, it was the first one that stuck in her mind. Like when Dewram came into her life, the same destabilizing feeling resurfaced. Nagging and impossible to shake off. Like a stubborn dark cloud that refused to move, her worries congested her thoughts.

“Mawey.”

A chill ran down her spine as she craned her neck towards the dense wall of trees and listened for any sounds. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her heart racing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching her. Searching for any sign of movement, she scanned the vegetation in a frenzy, and the other girl could sense her tension mounting. ” Why so serious?” With a playful smile, Selyao leaned forward and waved a dancing attire, enjoying the jingle of the hems. Her sly grin only intensified as she met Mi’niri’s glare, and she tilted her head; eyes sparkling mischievously. It was roughly contagious, and she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, reluctantly grabbing the fabric. “Do we really have to do this?” Selyao gave her an eloquent look. “We gotta make use of all this beauty, don’t we?” Her razor-sharp sarcasm was often ambiguous. Determining the subtle boundary between simple lightheartedness and cloaked earnestness was no mean feat. Especially in recent times, it has been veering towards the latter. The barbs had been getting more and more stinging and poisoned ever since a certain Na’vi had taken to circling Mi’niri like a bee around a flower. “Eywa blessed us with this too. Taking part in the honorary dances is a way to show gratitude.”

Mi’niri batted her lashes. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners said everything she needed to know. “What didn't you like about my speech? Honoring Nawna Sa’nok or just acknowledging you’re a stunner?” She was actually having fun pretending to be understanding. “We're friends. Your job is to boost my self-esteem.” “You're only friend,” she corrected her. “And no. My job is to tell you like it is. Flattering you be that of your muntxa (mate).” Talk about a deadly stare... “Well? Nobody wants to be alone forever.” “Sel, I don’t —. ” “I don’t get that kind of attention,” she aped her voice. “You don’t, huh? If you weren’t so elusive, you’d realize otherwise. Raso, ‘Ipäe, Eyrep - she listed - ... Kiokä.” Mi’niri’s lips twisted in disdain at the mention. “I don't get what the issue is. He’s the dream guy - good-looking, kind, and respectful, pampers you with gifts fit for royalty.”

If only she had the slightest idea about the boy in her dreams.

“And, oh yeah, he’s the Olo’eyktan’s son. I mean, he's the perfect fit. Actually, he’s more than perfect. He’s amazing.” “You hit the nail on the head! He's the Olo’eyktan’s son. He wants to be sure he's next in line.”

The people chattering was so loud she could barely hear herself think. Whispers that her ears screened out. People had mixed reactions to her parents. Some felt sorry for them, while others admired their resilience. Yet, all universally agreed the Olo'eyktan would make her his heir instead of his own son and betroth them at the Annual Festival of Lights. “Look at her and her odd mount. They’re not like us.” “She’s been rejected by her own parents, as it has been from the forest.”

Faced with the possibility of losing his birthright, Kiokä surprised many by remaining calm and composed. But just as Mi’niri did not possess the skills to follow in her parents’ footsteps, Kiokä couldn’t lead the people. He didn’t have the fundamental charisma of a leader, nor did he summon the innate respect the girl exuded at the mere sway of her hips as she walked. She had a confident posture, back straight and head high, as she strolled among the people. The same proud look of the slinth that accompanied her like a shadow.

Oh, how Kiokä adored seeing her gait, especially when in front of him. It enchanted him how the flowers she wore seemed to be a part of her, with their stems intertwining all over her body. They twisted and turned around her narrow waist, down her legs and arms. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as if entranced. Dewram’s striking colors accentuated the achromasia of her complexion. That very light grey that so lovingly clashed amidst the mass of blue bodies. But what indeed made her distinctive was the cascading, wavy copper-red hair that tumbled down her back. The ends about caressing the base of her slender tail. Not to mention those large opalescent eyes with a few hints of pale magenta around the pupil. Often her expression was stony. The slight disproportion of her bud lips gave her a pouty look that suited her damn well, though never as much as her occasional smile. Usually sketchy, but enough to grant her face a fresh gleam.

How he wanted to make her laugh. Watch her mouth open in the widest of smiles. Wait for that hint of light to explode into her eyes. See the mask of the unreachable Olo’eykte yield and tell himself that he caused it.

Yes, he wouldn’t have minded at all finding out that the rumors were true, because he was already hopelessly infatuated with her. How could he not be? Mi’niri was everything an ordinary Tawkami girl wasn’t. One of a kind. Perfect in her diversity. And if they weren’t, he would make them come true. He would reveal his intentions at the Festival of Lights, officially court her, and lead the clan to success together. Peace and prosperity as foretold. He could already picture her dressed in the most glittering ceremonial accouterments, standing under the purple glow of the village giant tawtsngal, as she recited her promises in a newfound shyness. He would love and cherish her, care for her forever.

What he could not foresee, however, was that Nawna Sa’nok’s plans differed from his own.

“Niri... Don’t listen to those stupid rumors. Sure, no one deserves the title more than you. You are Txumre’ Makto! But you passed Iknimaya long ago. If that was their plan, they would have told you. Besides, Kiokä loves you. He's been hanging onto your every word since we were kids.” “Whatever.” “Well, well, well, look who's coming this way,” she said under her breath. A subtle smile surfaced on her plump lips.

Mi’niri turned. A calm expression masked the inner storm within her, only to see Kiokä stomping resolutely down the path leading to the clearing. As their eyes locked, she could sense jitters that took her aback; it was strange to see him so... nervous? Yet he stood tall in front of them. Even though he looked intimidated, his towering presence made him stand out, thanks to his unwavering determination. The unrelenting sun beamed straight into his face, showing off his impatience with an unmistakable smirk he couldn’t hide. Ironic, given his usual composure.

“Morning, girls. Sel,” he addressed her with a little nod, and then his gaze settled on Mi’niri’s features. The sickly sweet way he pronounced her name was almost enough to make her lose her lunch, but she maintained an indifferent demeanor. “Mind a quick talk?” He extended his hand, but the sly wink that followed made her hesitant to take it. Just like when he offered her the necklace, she felt a sense of discomfort crept up again. What is he up to? She overlooked the prickly sensation on her skin and accepted his hand, letting him guide her through the overgrown thicket. He headed towards the tranquil stream as if he was eager to escape the commotion of the boisterous laughter and prying eyes, the sound of rushing water drowning out the noise of the party preparations. The music was so loud that it made the earth shake beneath her, but eventually, it became nothing more than a faint buzz.

Carefully, he cleared the path of thorns and twigs, ensuring she wouldn't get scratched as if she was made of glass. Kiokä was like that: gentle and well-mannered. However, his mild smile disguised something else that he rarely showed to anyone but her. Something that gave her butterflies in her stomach, but not in a good way. She didn’t strive to be with him at all, but here we were with a hint of nausea gripping the pit of her abdomen.

“Shall we sit?” he smiled lazily, escorting her to a group of rocks outlining the shore. He trailed his hand up her arm, feeling the smoothness of her skin before reaching her shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Mi'niri gave him a quizzical expression, wondering about the meaning of the gesture, which seemed out of place. The gesture itself didn't bother her much. She wasn’t the kind of person who eschewed physical contact as long as it remained respectful and friendly. Still, the way he had grabbed her, with that firm but caressing and, at times, impudent touch, as if he was trying to communicate something else through his actions, made her terribly aware of their excessive proximity. Something was off in that hesitation to break away, and she could sense his awe. It left her feeling both bewildered and curious.

She couldn’t help but dwell on his effigy. Kiokä was definitely taller than her, with broad shoulders, a solid build, and a sharp facial structure. Although he was an affable and helpful guy, his protruding, gaunt cheekbones, serious expression, and assertive personality gave him an intimidating appearance.

Finally, the boy left her, distancing himself just enough to allow her to breathe normally again.

They exchanged a few curt words before bringing up the real reason he wanted to talk to her.

"I don't even know where to start," he chuckled. His chin resting on the back of his closed-fisted fingers, his head tilted, not missing her single movement. He watched as she hooked one leg over the other and circled her knee with crossed fingers - an obvious position of closure - long locks fell across her chest, reaching her thigh. That uncomfortable feeling of narrowness returned, and, out of nowhere, she felt how much the other’s presence oppressed her. His ego filling all the space in an asphyxiating way.

Mi’niri nervously moistened her suddenly dry lips, wondering if being close to Kiokä had always troubled her this much. Something changed since those uncomfortable rumors had started to circulate. Peeking out, she saw how the boy was staring at her mouth, her throat rising and falling as she swallowed.

“You look superb in this necklace. I knew the stone was meant for you the moment I saw it.” A polite smile soon faded away, when his index finger brushed against the embroidery on her jewelry. Dangerously close to her collarbone skin. She moved away, turning to stare at him. Eyes as sharp as knives flashed in those of the boy, who seemed to read in them all the unease she was feeling. His back straightened, and his honeyed eyes pointed ahead toward the river. He clutched the bag hanging from his tewng guiltily. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

A heavy burden fell on her chest, and her breathing slowed almost to a halt, following the mournful movement with which Kiokä’s gaze fell on his own hands. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of binding herself inextricably to him. A shiver of horror. She often wondered if the sentiment he repeatedly boasted was authentic or only a mutual sense of obligation that bound them together. An accommodation dictated by loyalty and habit, as well as by a dose of physical attraction that he had never hidden.

His fingers sank into his pouch as he fumbled with something inside. A slight tinkle vibrated in the air with each indolent swing of the ikran claw that served as a pendant, tied to the handle with a sort of plastic-looking cord. His midnight dreadlocks, left loose, framed the increasingly masculine and father-like facial features. By now, very little of Tsahìk could be glimpsed.

The time for confrontation had come, and Mi’niri wasn’t ready at all.

“I reckon something is missing.” “Meaning?” He handed her a bracelet made of the same irregular, polished stones she wore around her neck. And, adding nothing else, fastened it to her wrist, which overlapped with the one she was already wearing. As if to erase the memory of her unknown mother and the dark past that haunted her. "Perfect now," he said, in a depth she didn't expect. His gaze softened with a faint, closed-mouthed smile as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, examining how his creation stressed her complexion.

Too bad that adjective didn’t match her personality at all. “What did I do to earn it this time around?” ” Why do I need a reason to give you a gift?” ” That's just how it's been ‘til now - she knew him far too well to be charmed - I'm not buying that your gesture is meaningless.” Nobody does anything for nothing, regardless of the genuineness behind it. Kiokä was no exception. “You just can’t make it easy for me,” he chortled. “I might sound stupid, but you probably know where this is going. Though you want to hear me say it.” Mi’niri stared at him, tired of the back-and-forth. It was time to set the record straight, despite the knowledge that everything would change. That she would lose him. Her defender, her only supporter outside her family. "It's a woo present," he confessed. “Not that the others weren’t, but I let my indecisiveness make you assume they were something else. I can’t keep my feelings for you quiet anymore.” He stared at her for a long minute, taking both her hands in his.

“Oel ngati kameie.”

She shook her head doggedly, reassuring herself that it must have been a terrible misunderstanding, a sick prank. “Believe me, Niri. I see you. I know you don't think highly of yourself. But, Eywa, you know I have done nothing else since we were kids and you were hiding behind your dad's legs,” he said, making her look away. “You got someone to go to the Festival of Lights with?” “You should already know the answer.” He sketched a conciliatory smile, but one that still leaked an aura of triumph, “Come with me” "That's probably not a good idea, Kio," she shrugged and said. She could tell he didn’t agree with her by the deep furrow of his brow. I don't see why it's a big deal to show us together. I don’t expect us to unite by the end of the season. However, I think it’s appropriate to deepen our relationship now that we are grown-ups. Let's take our sweet time to get to know each other better. I'll wait until you're ready to be my Olo’eykte, no matter how long it takes.” “What did you say?” she asked in a whiff. A hiss so close to the threatening sounds Dewram made when someone from outside the Yawäa family approached him; whether it was an elder unaware of his presence or an overly curious child. Always alert. Guardedness and wariness were traits shared by both knight and mount. “That I will wait.” “After that.” “That I wish you to be my Olo’eykte.” His words were meant to be romantic, but to the girl, they confirmed her suspicions. “I don��t think you’re aiming to be Tsahìk any more than I’m aiming to be Olo’eyktan,” he chuckled at his own joke. After all, their clan wasn't so restrictive about the distribution of roles. It had already happened that Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk weren't a mated pair. Here, the only novelty would be a female clan leader. Although it had already occurred in other populations such as among the Ikran People of the Eastern Sea.

“Ah, that's why,” she figured. “You want me to be your mate to escape the burden of being the clan leader but still keep your status? Isn't that what everyone's expecting, anyway? ‘Cause you are the clan prince, and I’m Txumre’ Makto. Nothing out of the ordinary. It’s just how things go.” Massaging her forehead, she turned away from him, signaling the end of the conversation on her part. It took Kiokä a few seconds to register the accusation. His thin amber eyes took on the same coldness as resin when it solidifies; encapsulating a poor insect, now mute and still as gems. His eyelids tightened a little, enough to instill some consternation. “What do you mean by that?” The tone was caustic and detached. “That you don’t really want me. You’re doing this for the clan,” she reiterated, unwilling to let herself be frightened and give him up. If he wanted her as a companion, he'd to prove he could stand up to her.

Not that it would have changed anything. She did not reciprocate.

As she considered their friendship over the years, she was transported back to the carefree days of childhood. Whenever she thought of Kiokä, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He’d given her the confidence to face any challenge that came her way. Countless hours had been spent in each other's company, sharing their wildest dreams and ideas about the future. With him, she felt a sense of belonging that she had only ever felt with Selyao. There had been a time when she had tried to convince herself she could grow to love him at one point. She had gazed at him expectantly, hoping to feel a spark that would confirm he was the one, a sign that would confirm he was the missing piece she had been searching for. She had been eagerly anticipating that feeling to develop, so when she noticed a change in how the boy interacted with her, she felt like she was on cloud nine.

Happiness faded away quickly, like a shooting star. It didn't take long for her to understand that the feeling of agitation she experienced in his presence was more unpleasant than she first believed. But Mi’niri silenced the growing annoyance that gradually invaded her. She believed love was a journey, not a destination, something that could be cultivated with time and effort. By focusing on what made her feel good, she could learn to cherish even the most difficult aspects of a relationship. A skill that could be honed like any other.

Alas, it wasn’t so. Nothing about Kiokä could shake her. Not in that way. She cared for him. Admired him. Yet that childlike affection between the two adolescents remained as such: a childhood memory.

“No! My love for you is true, Niri. I’m crazy about you. I never had eyes but for you. Look,” he exposed the songcord hanging from the waistband of his loincloth to the sunlight, taking between his strong fingers a particular bean. She recognized it right away. “It is a fragment of your pendant. When I found it, your face peeped out like a thunderbolt. I added it to my songcord that day, so I’d always remember the moment I met my better half.” “You’re wrong. You only found an illusion.” “Explain yourself,” he demanded. “No use in explaining to ears that won't listen.”

As she crossed the clearing, heavy footsteps heeled her out. She barely had time to register what was happening before she was seized by the wrist, spun around, and slammed into the rough surface of a log. Her head swam with a slight dizziness. “Hey, don’t just walk away. I deserve to know.” His voice leaked a dull pain that made her jerk abruptly, meeting his friend's now furious irises. A distraught gleam flashed in them, in a mix of sadness and anger. The inflection in his voice whipped her like an anvil. And there, trapped between the tree and the man’s chest, Mi’niri could feel his mournful gaze weighing heavily on her. So small and helpless. So guilty. Mi’niri closed her eyes and focused solely on the surrounding sounds, filtering out all the other senses. An unexplained sense of tranquility spread throughout her entire body soon after. She felt it relax along with her lungs, inhaling and exhaling regularly once more. The beating of her heart slowed down into long pulsations, punctuating the flow of her blood through her arteries like a metronome. And the erubescence that had crept up her cheeks subsided, revealing the unflappable nature of her being. The rustling of leaves and chirping of birds. The sound of the nearby stream.

The nearby stream. Kyokä.

As much as she wished the conversation wasn’t happening, the feeling of his hand holding hers kept her present in the moment. Oddly, his touch was somehow reassuring. It gave her the strength to face the situation. She looked at him. The sight of the sun filtering through the trees stressed the start of anxiety making its way across that no longer inscrutable face. Finally, the grip on her wrist loosen as she read the sorrow in his eyes, building like a wave about to engulf them, a looming tsunami.

“Please, Niri!” Hearing his lips murmur that nickname so sadly brought down all her defenses. Vulnerability was the one thing Mi’niri loathed displaying. She bottled up her moods, pushed them back into the furthest corner of her being, where they bubbled and swelled until erupting in a column of gas. Like accumulated hydrogen in a magma chamber. Ash and lapilli, flowing down the destroyed flanks of the caldera, overwhelmed everything that crossed their path, leaving nothing but fertile ground for the new generation of vegetation. An ecosystem that would be wiped out at the next burst.

While she looked past the boy’s shoulder, she struggled to resist the urge to spit out the truth. Don’t answer, she commanded herself, but her tongue was already disobeying. No, I’ll speak my mind once and for all. Even though she didn’t want things to escalate, she had to be honest. She tentatively returned to look at him. His eyes as shiny as gems and as dark as the cloudy sky of the dream where she had met the mysterious Omatikaya. “I don’t feel the same.”

Kiokä was forlorn and unable to find the words to respond, which gave Mi’niri an opening to carry on with her speech. She just had to turn a blind eye to the suffering etched on his face. And what better push than focusing on the clan’s venomous gossip? Their heated voices echoed inside her, reminding her why she was supposed to leave him sitting on the rock alone. Her blood boiled with anger. Her voice was becoming apathetic and detached as she hurled all the pent-up resentment at him.

He did not understand her. He did not see her.

Having a place in the community was something he took for granted. Never knowing what it was like to feel excluded, never experiencing what it meant to not belong. Oblivious to the feeling that comes with putting in effort, only to be seen as an unwelcome outsider. An outcast, a freak with no actual family, no connections to anyone - unquestionably not to the Tawkami clan. Her grey skin a constant reminder that she had to work twice as hard as others just to earn a fraction of what they did. No matter if they respect her and considered her at the extremes of a chosen one, she always sensed a certain detachment behind their friendly smiles. Like an inconvenient relative, an unwanted visitor who refused to leave. The only thing that gave her value in the eyes of the people was Dewram, which was all she really had.

Kiokä couldn’t comprehend the meaning of having nothing to cling onto as an identifier, except one singular thing. The feeling of being lost. The longing for that one thing that would give you a sense of purpose every morning. That one thing that made life worth living. Frustration hit her like a ton of bricks as she realize it wasn’t a new sensation. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface of their relationship, eating away at their bond. She refused to believe it, but deep down, she knew it had been there all along, slowly tearing them apart. Wished that clinging to what was harmonious in their friendship was enough.

Very little, she should admit.

“And you don’t feel anything either.”

He stood frozen, his arms limp at his sides, powerless against the biting cold of her eyes. Mi’niri seized the opportunity presented by his hesitation to slip out of that position and run away. The vegetation swallowed her up, and she was left alone with the weight of Kiokä's gaze. Heavy and unrelenting. It bore down on her, even as she disappeared into the foliage, piercing her head, but she didn’t give up, zooming even faster toward home. She had to shed those garments that appeared to scorch her, that adornment that appeared to strangle her.

Something slipped along her wrist in her haste. The light thud of the fall muffled by the cushiony grass.

Mi’niri took refuge in the most isolated spot in the clearing, hidden from unwelcome glances. She was sitting on a large root, in the shade of the broad, iridescent eyaye leaves. Shimmering drops of nectar released an enveloping fragrance that invaded the space, spreading in graceful invisible waves with each flick of the foraging birds’ wings. Convinced that she was finally alone, she let out a silent, liberating cry; frustration and suffering now mastered that normally unflappable candied face.

“You look tired.” Someone sat by her side, running his warm palm between her shoulder blades, down her back, and then up the back of her neck, massaging her gently. Strangely, she did not flinch, as if expecting that attention. As if she knew she would find him there. The stranger didn’t speak, said nothing so as not to upset her further, and let her vent. With her, words were often superfluous, creating distance, forcing her to give meaning to an inner flow that she preferred to keep her own; she wasn’t temperamentally inclined to sharing, preferring to handle the emotions she felt in her own way, in the intimacy of herself. Although it was, in most cases, deleterious and exhausting; gripped by regrets, unexpressed desires, and, on this specific occasion, even some remorse.

A feather hovered in the air, gliding lightly in the open palm of the boy. He then turned it over in his fingers, studying its cyan-greenish veins that divided it into tiny sections. A few brown flecks mottled it at the edges, although the fuchsia of the tip was predominant and in sharp contrast to the white of the base. He arranged the stem behind Mi’niri’s ear along with a strand of her hair, exposing the delicate profile of her face, the pale right cheek, and the high cheekbone, accentuating the elongated slit of her eyes. He contemplated how much the feather colors complimented her face.

She was ashamed of her appearance, the mark of an outcast life, but to the boy, it was beautiful. It made her one of a kind. Her complexion could have been even in the humans’ range; in his eyes, Mi’niri would have been the most beautiful girl in Eywa’eveng anyway.

“Eventually, you’ll have to talk about it.”

She looked up at him, her bulbs swollen, flushed, and glowing. A rosy tinge of shame crossed her cheeks and nose, and the young man wondered what the source of that sad expression was. The villainy with which she had pressed Kiokä by venting her dissatisfactions on him? The exposure of his secret love? His gesture?

He smiled at the idea, but it was but a lukewarm smile, a mockery, all too aware that nothing he said or did would have any effect. Kiokä probably could have disappeared, and she would not have noticed.

“I was cruel before,” was the first thing she said since they had reached there, at the foot of that majestic tree, her voice croaking from crying. He could do nothing but sigh, the facts commenting on themselves. “What’s wrong with me?” “Nothing is wrong with you.” “Then why am I like this?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. But by now, dabbing the wound had become useless. Sometimes you need to leave it open and exposed to the sun for it to heal from the infection. “Because you can’t resign yourself,” he sentenced laconically, “I understand, you know? I’m in the same situation as you,” he sketched a wry grin, “I’ve always let others define me, choose for me. To tell me how I should have been, what I should have done.”

The wrinkled look he gave her was so sad and dark, she felt as if she had looked out into two gloomy mirrored wells that opened a pathway to the depths of the underworld. There was nothing left of his bravado and amusing conceit, not even an iota. They were totally absent in that amber eye. And on that suddenly apathetic face, even the shadow of his usual cheeky, crafty smirk had disappeared. “I had to be shot for them to realize how hard they had been on me.”

Mi’niri winced in pain at that confession and looked away, suddenly exposed, naked. “Did you ever think of telling them?” He chuckled, widening his legs out on the bed of leaves and stretching his body backward to fill himself with the golden warmth of the foliage above their heads. “At least a million times,” he admitted, “Once I even had the urge to rant, amidst everyone, so exhausted was I of shouldering responsibilities that weren't mine. But it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.” The boy blew out a quick sigh as he continued, “I even tried to undertake trainings so heavy that they didn’t give me the material time to look after my brothers. At least I would have the excuse. But my thoughts always came back to them, together with an excruciating guilt. I’m the eldest, it’s my job to stand in for our parents.” “That’s not true. It’s not your place to educate them.”

It wasn’t part of her personality to dispense advice, still, she felt the burden of having to do so; to at least try to console him as he had done with her countless times, including this one. It was funny to talk to each other like that with a stranger whom moreover she met only in her dreams and whose name she did not even know. Confronting each other about the injustices that had plagued them from an early age, as if they had shared them as if they had always been there to back each other up.

“When are you going to tell me who you are?”

He turned again to look at her, the eyes that were staring at her at that moment, and that the faint sunlight filtering through the foliage dotted with golden straws, differed from they had been a moment ago: tremendously confident and determined, the same ones she used to meet. The girl clutched her shoulders, prey to an unmotivated anxiety that sprang directly from her gut, from her core. As if the young man who sat beside her had unexpectedly changed before her without her being able to do anything to prevent it. He looked so different, so adult and distant, yet so close, and for a second he seemed unrecognizable to her. He took her hand and brought it to his chest. When her petite palm collided with his pectoral, she could feel beneath the scar of the gunshot, beneath the warmth of his skin, the accelerated, almost frightened beat of the heart muscle.

“I’m already doing it.”

At those words, Mi’niri clenched her fingers tighter, so tightly that her nails rubbed the outline of the healed wound. And, for an instant, it felt as if she had squeezed his heart for real.

Evening had long since settled over the landscape and it was dark outside. The cooler air of mid-season was surrendering to the more sultry temperatures of early summer. So too was the cyclical pattern of constellations giving way to a less star-laden but brighter sky, thanks to the lengthening days. The celestial vault would have been marvelous had it not been veiled by the shimmering evanescence of the moons; three shining, perfect orbs that flooded the space below with an impalpable, milky glow. A light breeze rustled through the tents, its murmurs humming on the thick rocky walls of the gorge where the village resided. Channeling into the thick valley, it carried in dense sweet whiffs the scent of the panopyras - now in full bloom. In the distance, the muted crackling of tree branches brushing against each other and the faint swaying of lianas could be heard. Sounds that mingled with the rustling of the lanterns that decorated the winding lanes - already installed for the festival that was to be held soon, and which this year would have an even more bitter taste for Mi’niri.

Ideal weather for a night hike, she thought, hugging herself in her shawl as she crossed the silent, sleepy path. There was only a candle to light it; the flame flickered with each step of the girl, illuminating her diaphanous face with a faint, warm light and casting eerie shadows on the ground. Mi’niri barely glanced at them, a shiver slipping down her spine as darkness threatened to engulf everything. She had a very bad feeling.

She looked around one last time, on the alert, before peeling back the drape that served as a door, as if something was watching her intently. A nocturnal predator ready to ambush her. But even after entering the tent and closing the drape behind her, she couldn’t allow herself to feel relieved.

It was never a good sign to be summoned by the Olo’eyktan. Especially at that hour. Whatever he wanted to tell her, whatever he wanted to order her to do, was not to be overheard by prying ears.

“I've been watching her for three years,” she heard the clan leader’s unmistakable voice mutter, “She, and that beast of hers that always accompanies her.”

Dewran, she corrected him, refusing to speak, to disrespect the man who so often sinned the same error against her brother in spirit. She saw it in the way she watched him walk by her side when they passed. The same eyes the people reserved for her, burning into her like slow-flowing lava on the slopes of a volcano. The strange orphan of mysterious origins.

The first Txumre’ Makto in history. Someone fearsome, whose opinion could change the fate of many. ‘For it was Eywa’s will’, Tsahìk declared that fateful day.

“Something extraordinary awaits her. Something that will deliver immense torment, just as annihilating as the venom of her spirit brother, but that will culminate in profound shift and perpetual unity.”

“That gaze, that resoluteness in the eyes, is essential for a leader. What I seek in my successor. And Kiokä...” The silence that followed was more powerful than any words could ever be, and Mi'niri was left feeling a lump form in her throat. Hearing the way his name was spoken was like a poison-tipped arrow, piercing her heart with painful accuracy. It had been a full two weeks since she last talked to him. More or less since his confession. Now things were pretty awkward and tense between the two. Truth be told, she was keeping her distance. Avoiding him like the plague - like she was the plague. Mi’niri couldn’t risk running into each other, knowing he wasn’t willing to forgive and forget. They wouldn’t return to normal this time. His shifty eyes never failed to betray him whenever they sat at opposite ends of the hearth during communal meals. When he walked past her, she couldn't help but notice how he held himself with an air of superiority, refusing to acknowledge her presence. Mi’niri was well aware she could expect nothing more from him. She'd hurt him, broken his heart, wounded his pride. Kiokä needed time to heal. They both needed it. Most of all, they needed to ask themselves what they both wanted and sought for themselves. Besides, even if Kiokä had intended to move on from yet another wronging, meeting by chance was unlikely because of their restrictive commitments. Thank goodness. It incensed her to realize how tangled her existence had become in a mere afternoon.

“You're a smart, diligent lad, a real go-getter. But although you were raised to inherit my title, you don’t have the spirit to lead the people. Perhaps in peacetime that may have sufficed, but not with the resurgence of the ketuwong (aliens).”

Fully understanding where he was going with this, a grimace eluded her. I don’t have that spirit either, she wanted to shout, already feeling the responsibility that came with the title weighing down on her. I got nothing you're looking for.

“Shadow is about to fall upon us. We need a powerful leader capable of making arduous decisions.” “Ma muntxatan (husband), our son is still young. He still has time to prove himself to the people.” From behind a partition peeped Tsahìk, a reproachful look towards her spouse. “That is not the Great Mother's will. We have already broached the subject. Kiokä is a troubled, disoriented boy who shoulders the duty of his lost brother.” There’s a mournful note in the woman’s voice at the mention of her first son. The thanator attack that had claimed the life of their loved one many years ago was still fresh in their minds, a deep scar on the hearts of the clan. “He has no desire to be Olo’eyktan, rather, his true calling is in art. His love for it surpasses any ambition. Nevertheless, he picked this girl as his chosen mate,” he pointed at her, “And Eywa also favored her. That must carry some implication.” “Assuredly, my dear, but her responses are not here to be sought. She is on the cusp of something remarkable.”

What was that sentence trying to say? What am I searching for?

The man let out a distressed chuckle, sensing the same veto in his wife's eyes that he had seen in his son's as he grew up. A son who renounced to pursue his own future out of fear. Who dreaded the thought of letting down his people, of never measuring up to the clan’s expectations. Failure was a constant worry, always present in his thoughts. He lacked the confidence to see the greatness that lay dormant within him. A merit that was so impressive, it could only be outshone by a second, even more dazzling one.

“Mi’niri is averse to being appointed as Olo’eykte or Tsahìk.” Not for the Tawkami, at least. Tsahìk knew from the very start that the girl’s path wouldn’t be the same as her son’s, leading her down a separate road. A unique journey to undertake. With too many questions as her guides, she will leave behind the clan that never felt like home.

About what was in store for the girl, the goddess had been silent. Yet, the woman was sure she’d find her place in the world thanks to the deity's serene giggle whenever questioned. Mi'niri would find joy, harmony, and meaning, even in the face of darkness and pain. She would find love.

It was unreasonable to demand a girl with a tendency towards solitude to assume the reins of the masses. Just as it was ignominious to disregard the signs of Nawna Sa’nok. “Soon Kiokä will find her Tsahìk.” The man sighed, “I am getting old, ‘evan (boy [colloquial]). The Tawkami must be in the right hands, and it's up to me to ensure it happens. Embrace your destiny, it's time to fulfill it.” “How do you know this is my destiny?” A flick of a cough interrupted the conversation.

“Have a sit.” The rider's mask obscured the man's expression, but she could tell he was studying her carefully. With his gnarled hands entwined at his chin, he tapped his index finger against his thin upper lip in contemplation. His sunken eyes were devoid of any emotion, and his calm, calculating tone conveyed only a thinly veiled sense of distrust. His algidness did not surprise her. Kindness was not one of his hallmarks. Although he’d never harmed a hair on her head and, indeed, seemed to carry her on his palm, she had never felt completely at ease in his presence. He used to look at her as if he constantly kept her under scrutiny, dissecting every little detail of her being. As if he was waiting for her to mess up. Yet the girl had shown no compunction in the face of his severity and had never stopped seeking his approval by devoting herself to the clan’s well-being. She wanted to make him proud, almost as if he were a close relative, a mentor. So, as she had always done, she obeyed the man and took a seat at the other end of the massive wooden table, on which a topographical map was resting. The man stared at it for a long time before straightening his torso and exhaling heavily.

“You must be wondering why I wanted you here,” he finally spoke. His deep voice reverberated in her rib cage, causing her to flinch. Her imperceptible nod was enough for him to continue, “Sky People.”

For the past three years, new stars had appeared in the sky, closer and brighter than the others had ever been. They disappeared and reappeared in the blackness of the cosmos like lighthouses in the night. A flickering artificial light that each time it went out brought devastation to new corners of the wondrous satellite on which they lived. The forests crackled and hissed as the smell of smoke filled the air and tongues of fire licked at everything in sight. Animals’ desperate cries filled the air as they tried to escape the flames, but many were not fast enough. The streams shriveled up and disappeared, leaving behind a barren, lifeless landscape. The once vibrant scenery now reduced to a charred wasteland. Clans had to migrate. Seeking refuge, they abandoned the homelands of their forefathers and ventured into the depths of uncharted wilderness, where even the Na’vi had not yet tread.

The Tawkami's valley was a natural fortress, surrounded by high mountains and dense vegetation that stretched for miles. The rock's jagged edges were a testament to the force of the ancient glacier that carved it. Finding them was a hard task for outsiders. Complice the immune response in the Hallelujah Mountains, which, however, was triggered with increasing frequency - directly proportional to the incessant human incursions.

That apparent serenity, that somehow permanent peace, would not last much longer. The Earthlings became bolder with each passing day. The heinousness they were guilty of preceded them. Only death and destruction followed their passage. From coastal settlements to the southeasternmost archipelagos, villages were being razed to the ground. As the platoons advanced into the rainforest to protect Bridgehead supply lines found Omatikaya warriors as the sole active resistance, the RDA unleashed its new abomination.

The recombined soldiers.

Their target was one. Jake Sully.

The conflict was inching closer, and they knew it was only a matter of time before it would have a global impact. Plundering and raiding were no longer enough for the Terrestrials. What they wanted was to conquer, usurp the Na’vi of their birthright, steal their lands, and make them their new planet. Colonise and enslave in exchange for the salvation of a species that should have perished, but persisted, like weeds that never die out.

“What is it, Father?” Kiokä’s voice had a tinge of bitterness in it as he spoke, his eyes staring fixedly at the man, never settling on her. Lopsided once. Mi’niri remained composed, refusing to be disturbed by the hint of indifference with which he had expressed himself. Bordering on annoyance.

“Ikran in the colors of the Metkayina.”

Reef populations flying? Since when? What were they up to in the woods? What were they after?

His son’s nostrils flared as surprise mixed with indignation. At that precise moment, he couldn’t have been further from his well-known composure as he approached her, finally meeting her gaze. “Why’d she come here?” The girl held her ground and stared back at him. She pushed him away, the sound of his pleading voice still ringing in her ears. Niri realized he was hurt, but it didn’t excuse how unfairly he was treating her. ”We’ll come up with a strategy.” ”That's not what I asked,” he objected. The father narrowed his eyes. “To be Txumre’ Makto does?” Kiokä’s anger wavered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. “Have they violated our borders?” “Not yet,” he warned. Her voice emitted a deep, growling tone from the back of his throat. The Olo’eyktan anger softened, replaced by concern, though skepticism still lingered in his voice. “But why? What’s the reason for them invading our airspace?” “That is what we must find out before they reach Greenhome. Gather the best warriors and interrogate them. Make them talk.”

Notes: All the info about the clans I mention and the characters' names of said clans are from games side stories and other official sources. Since they haven't appeared in the movies yet, I take them as canon until James Cameron will state otherwise.

Blue Flute: another name for Omatikaya.

Panopyra: nicknamed the love flower by Terran scientists, is an unusual life-form that has characteristics reminiscent of a jellyfish. It doesn’t resemble any taxonomic plant group found on Earth and appears to represent a new evolution line toward a primitive nervous system. Sensory tissue and a saprophytic lifestyle, where nutrition is obtained from decayed organic matter and dead organisms, place this species somewhere between plants, animals, and fungi so it can be categorized as zooplantae. It is an epiphyte and typically grows attached to other plants, sometimes high in the canopy. Normal plant gravitropic responses are missing in the panopyra. Instead of growing toward or against gravity, the vinelike stems sense and grow toward prey, which in turn are attracted by slight electric signals emanating from the plant's stems. Once an animal approaches the panopyra it is further lured by the nutrient-rich water trapped in the cuplike plant body. This double attractant system results in abundant food for the panopyra, which has no need to make its own food through photosynthesis. The water is collected from dew and fog, which condenses and runs down into the cup-shaped body. The Na'vi collect the liquid that catches in the body and use it for a nutritious and healing drink. The flexible stems are used for making nets, traps, and other woven items. The growing tips of the stems with their sensory cells are said to be an attractant and aphrodisiac and often worn by young Na'vi who are looking for a mate.

Tawtsngal: Na’vi name of panopyra.

Ikran People of the Eastern Sea: Tayrangi Clan.

Yawäa family: Mi'niri's family

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random-imagines-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Imagine accidentally blurting out to Dwayne Johnson that you’re attracted to his black wrestling gear look.

The small party wasn’t acting like a small party - the main cast, including you, of the film that you had just shot, had gotten together inside of this little dive bar, bringing life into the place. There was music, there was some people dancing, there were conversations, drinks to be had, some mediocre food like nachos and fries but after a few beers, everything was tasting good.

What you were doing during the festivities was sitting at a table with your co-workers Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson and Aldis Hodge, discussing the former’s career as a wrestler before he turned into an actor. “It was real fun,” Dwayne said with a laugh. “I liked seeing the different cities. The actual traveling though, that was a downside.”

You were enthralled by every story that he told about being on the road, being in the ring. Dwayne was an amazing story teller - and the way that his muscles flexed when he’d act something out. You couldn’t look away for a second.

“I always liked watching the dramatics,” You said, picking at one of Aldis’s fries. He tried to swat you away but you were too quick, celebrating your win by eating it down. “The entrances. The outfits.” You giggled, the words coming out of your mouth.Blame the shots. “I was always attracted to the little black shorts and the boots look.”

Aldis barked in laughter beside you while Dwayne pulled out his infamous eyebrow raise. The same one that made shivers go up your spine while at the same time feeling warm and fuzzy inside. You weren’t acknowledging what you said just yet. You hadn’t realized you said it. Not until he questioned it. “You always were, huh?”

That warmth turned to an uncomfortable heat real fast.

“I mean it’s uhh - it’s iconic. It’s great, right Aldis?”

“I’m not Hawkman right now, I’m not swooping in to save you.”

You were forced to face Dwayne all on your own, but that eyebrow went down and he couldn’t hold in the laugh. “I appreciate that, thanks y/n. You should come try on the boots sometime, I still have them.”

“Wait really? I can do that?”

“Yeah, anything for someone who has ... always been attracted to them.”

Requested by: Anonymous

#Dwayne Johnson #Dwayne Johnson x reader #The Rock #The Rock x reader #Dwayne Johnson imagines #The Rock imagines #celebrity #celebrity imagines #request #imagines #dwaynej #x reader

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xwingsandohs · 2 years ago

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NEED to write an oblivious idiots™️ friends to lovers fic with spencer where you go with him to the korean film festival and literally as he’s whispering into your ear you REALISES fuck. i’m in love with him.

the whispering sends shivers down your spine like you’ve never felt with spencer but suddenly it’s like everything aligns and you realise you’ve been in love with him all along. 😦

so the rest of the day you can hardly pay attention to him, you can’t walk beside him because you can’t figure out what’s too close or too far and you’re terrible at keeping eye contact because you think he’s gonna REALISE something is wrong. he doesn’t, he just assumes you’re feeling unwell🙄

afterwards u ring penny and she’s like 😐 “yeah??? no shit baby you’ve been in love with him for a while” and you’re gobsmacked like “does he know???”😦 and it’s “DOES HE KNOW???? he’s in love with you too fool”

#i have a vivid concept and yes i will be writing this #but i wanna share the thots #drabbles #spencer reid x reader

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lifeofpriya · 2 months ago

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plsss can you do another autumnal Jack one where reader is obsessed with Halloween / autumn and he loves making her happy so plans a horror movie marathon and he’s just annoying the entire time saying stuff like “that just wouldn’t happen” dndjnf but it’s also v cuddly and cute ☺️🍂

you got it, anon! 🤭🫡🫶🏼 requests for jack week are now closed, so i am going through the requests i've received prior to the deadline

The Horror of Love

wc: 2.8k

You, a young soul with a penchant for the chilly embrace of fall, find yourself nestled in the comfort of your boyfriend's apartment. Your heart swells with anticipation as the aroma of pumpkin spice wafts through the air, a delightful scent that seems to whisper tales of the macabre holiday approaching. Halloween isn't merely a single night for you; it's a season that saturates your very essence with warmth and excitement. The rustle of dried leaves outside, the soft glow of the setting sun, and the crispness of the autumnal air are your symphony, setting the stage for a festival of fear that you cherish with every fiber of your being.

Jack, the love of your life, knows this all too well. He's the yang to your yin, the light to your dark, and today, he's decided to indulge your passion with an unexpected gesture. As you both sit on the plush velvet sofa, the room dims and the TV flickers to life, revealing a playlist titled "Jack's Horror Fest." Your heart skips a beat as you recognize the artwork for your favorite spooky classics.

He glances over at you with a mischievous grin, dimming the lights further to reveal the flicker of candles scattered across the coffee table. "I know how much you love this time of year, so I figured we'd kick off the season with a bang," he says, popping a handful of caramel corn into his mouth. The room is a cocoon of coziness, with the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace and the distant echo of children's laughter from the street below.

You watch as Jack, in his usual casual attire of a well-worn sweatshirt and joggers, moves with purposeful grace. His athletic frame, a testament to countless hours on the tennis court, is silhouetted by the dancing flames. He's always been thoughtful, but this…this is next level.

The first film starts, and it's a classic—one that you've seen so many times you can recite the lines. Yet, with Jack by your side, it feels fresh and new. His playful elbow nudges and mock screams punctuate the suspenseful moments, making you laugh despite the horror on the screen. Each time a jump scare looms, he leans closer, feigned terror in his eyes, only to tickle you right as the monster jumps out. You squirm and giggle, both irritated and delighted by his antics.

"Jack, seriously," you protest through your laughter, trying to sound stern. "I'm trying to watch this."

"Oh, come on," he says with a cheeky smile, noticing your playful glower. "Where's your spirit of Halloween?"

Jack, ever the charmer, knows precisely how to push your buttons. As the night deepens, the horror flicks become more intense, the shadows stretching menacingly across the walls. Yet, with each shiver down your spine, his warmth beside you becomes more comforting. He's a beacon in the storm of screams and suspense.

The second film rolls on, a tale of vengeful spirits that you've seen a hundred times, but it's Jack's commentary that keeps you on edge. He whispers fictional backstories for the characters, making you feel as though you're part of the narrative. His deep, British accent lends a certain flair to his storytelling, making even the most predictable plot twists seem like revelations.

As the witching hour approaches, Jack surprises you with a tray of steaming mulled cider, the scent of cloves and oranges mingling with the pumpkin spice. He hands you a cup with a flourish, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A little something to keep you warm," he says, his voice dropping an octave, attempting a spooky tone.

You roll your eyes, but a smile plays on your lips as you take a sip, the warmth spreading through your chest like a comforting embrace. The flickering candlelight casts shadows on his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and the glint in his eyes. You can't help but find his efforts endearing, even as he pretends to be the monster hiding in the shadows.

The evening unfolds in a delightful dance of horror and humor. As each film reaches its climax, Jack's teasing intensifies, his hands creeping closer to give you a good scare. Yet, every time you flinch, he pulls back, his laughter the sweetest sound in the room. It's a playful game of cat and mouse that somehow makes the horror more palatable, the suspense less daunting.

The third film, a modern twist on an old campfire ghost story, starts with a jolting opening scene. You clutch the cushion tighter, anticipating the dread that's about to unfold. Jack notices your tension and decides it's the perfect moment to up the ante. He drapes a blanket over you, tucking you in like a child, but not before placing a cold, plastic spider on your neck. You scream, throwing the blanket off, only to find him doubled over with laughter.

"Jack, that's not funny!" you exclaim, trying to sound upset, but the corners of your eyes crinkle with amusement.

"Oh, come on, you've got to admit that was a good one," he says, wiping a tear from his eye.

You can't help but chuckle, the tension in your shoulders dissipating like mist in the morning sun. "Fine," you concede, "but I'm watching you now."

Jack just winks, his hazel eyes gleaming with challenge. "Bring it on," he says, his voice a playful taunt that sends a thrill down your spine. You settle back into the cocoon of blankets, the warmth of the cider spreading through your body. The candles cast a warm, flickering glow across the room, creating an ambiance that's both eerie and inviting.

As the night progresses, the movies grow more intense, their plots weaving a tapestry of fear and suspense. Yet, amidst the horror, you find comfort in the familiar rhythm of Jack's laughter, his gentle teasing a stark contrast to the screams echoing from the TV. You're aware of the way he watches you, not just the screen, his eyes flickering with concern when you jump at a particularly gruesome scene.

The fourth film is a psychological thriller, one that you've been eager to see but too nervous to watch alone. As the tension builds, Jack's hand finds its way to your knee, squeezing reassuringly. His thumb traces small circles, grounding you in reality, a gentle reminder that the terror is confined to the screen.

"You okay?" he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod, sipping the cider that's now gone lukewarm. "Yeah, just… intense."

Jack squeezes your knee again, a silent promise that he's there. The film reaches its climax, and just as the main character makes the most bone-chilling discovery, the lights flicker. You gasp, but Jack laughs it off, getting up to check the fuse box.

While he's gone, you can't shake the feeling that the horror has bled into reality. The shadows seem to shift and breathe, and the distant sound of a breeze rustling through the trees outside feels eerily close. The TV's glow is the only light source, casting a pallor over everything.

You're about to call out for Jack when you hear a creak. You freeze, your heart racing, expecting a monster to leap out from the darkness. But instead, Jack emerges from the hallway, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Got it," he says, flipping the switch. The lights flood the room, and the shadows retreat to their corners like shy ghosts at dawn. You let out a sigh of relief, your heart thumping wildly.

Jack chuckles, saunters over to you, and says, "You're so easy to scare." His grin is infectious, and you can't help but laugh at yourself.

"You love this, don't you?" you accuse playfully, poking his ribs.

Jack feigns innocence, his eyes wide. "What? I just want to make sure you're enjoying your Halloween marathon."

You roll your eyes but can't hide the smile spreading across your face. "You're terrible," you say, but the warmth in your voice betrays the affection behind your words.

Jack just grins wider, his dimples deepening. "But you love me for it," he teases, and you know he's right. There's something about the way he's able to balance the line between horror and humor that makes the night feel magical.

The fifth film is a cult classic, one you've been dying to introduce him to. You snuggle closer, eager to see his reaction to the twisted plot. His arm drapes around your shoulders, and you lean into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. The film begins, and as the tension builds, you notice Jack's grip tighten slightly, a silent admission of his own nerves.

You whisper the storyline to him, filling in the blanks of the film's lore, and his eyes widen in shock and horror at the twists and turns. His laughter turns genuine, punctuating the film's quieter moments, and you find yourself enjoying his reactions almost as much as the film itself.

As the night wears on, the movies begin to blend together into a delightful montage of fear and fun. The candles burn lower, casting long, dramatic shadows that Jack uses to his advantage, contorting his fingers into monstrous shapes that make you giggle even as you shiver. The bowl of candy slowly empties, leaving a sticky ring of sugar on the table as evidence of your indulgence.

The sixth film is a campy B-horror, the kind that's so bad it's good. You've picked this one specifically because you know it won't keep Jack on edge. You need a breather from the intensity of the earlier films, and you suspect he does too. He groans theatrically as the film starts, but the twinkle in his eye gives away his secret delight.

As the film progresses, you both start to quote the cheesy lines and mimic the over-the-top acting. You laugh so hard your stomach aches, and Jack throws popcorn at the screen every time the heroine makes a dumb decision. The horror is replaced with light-hearted fun, and you find yourself more engaged with him than the film.

In the quiet moments, when the laughter subsides, you steal glances at Jack. His eyes are glued to the screen, his expression a mix of amusement and concentration. You realize that this—the simple act of sharing a Halloween tradition—is what love looks like. It's not grand gestures or expensive gifts; it's the effort to understand what makes someone's heart sing and the joy in being a part of that.

Jack senses your gaze and turns to you, a question in his eyes. "What?" he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.

"Nothing," you reply, your voice soft. "Just… I'm happy."

Jack's smile widens, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Me too," he murmurs, his hand finding yours under the blanket. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, sending warmth spiraling up your arm.

The final film of the marathon begins, a silent horror masterpiece accompanied by the haunting melody of a vintage film score. The flickering candles cast an eerie glow on the screen, and even Jack seems to be in awe of the film's timeless terror. You're snuggled into the crook of his arm, your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. His warmth is a comforting counterbalance to the chilling scenes that unfold before you.

As the film reaches its climax, the tension in the room is palpable. You feel Jack's muscles tense, and his hand grips yours tighter. The screen is filled with the frantic chase of a terrified protagonist, and you can't help but lean in, your heart racing. Just when you think you can't take the suspense anymore, Jack jumps up with a roar, fists in the air. You scream, your heart in your throat, only to find him doubled over with laughter, the movie's villain caught in a humorous gaffe.

"Jack, you absolute…!" you exclaim, your voice a mix of fear and mirth.

"What? Didn't see that coming?" he asks, his laughter subsiding into a grin as he sits back down, pulling you closer. "I couldn't resist. You looked so into it."

You swat at him, but your own laughter bubbles up, the tension broken. "You're terrible," you repeat, but the warmth in your voice is unmistakable.

As the final credits roll on the last film, the room is bathed in the soft glow of the dying embers in the fireplace and the flickering candles, casting a warm, cozy light over the two of you. The horror marathon has turned into a night of bonding, laughter, and a little bit of fear, all wrapped up in the blanket of your shared love for the macabre.

Jack stretches his long legs out in front of him and yawns, the tension of the evening's scares giving way to the comfort of the moment. "So," he says, his voice a little hoarse from his earlier shenanigans, "what did you think of the lineup?"

You lean your head on his shoulder, the weight of your body feeling like a contented cat. "It was perfect," you reply, your voice a lazy purr. "Even the terrible ones."

Jack's eyes crinkle in amusement. "I'm starting to think you enjoy the terrible ones more than the good ones."

"Maybe," you admit, a smirk playing on your lips. "They're just so…bad they're good."

Jack nods in agreement. "Like the kind of candy you love to hate."

You laugh, the sound muffled against his shoulder. "Exactly."

As the night wears on, the candles burn down to stubs, leaving only the fireplace to cast its warm embers across the room. The TV screensaver kicks in, a digital fireplace that seems to mock the real one's dwindling flames. The silence is filled with the quiet pops of the fire and the distant sounds of the city winding down for the night.

Jack stretches, his arms reaching out in a yawn that makes his sweatshirt ride up, revealing a sliver of his toned stomach. He looks over at you, his eyes drooping slightly with the weight of the late hour. "Ready for bed?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble.

You nod, feeling the warmth of his body beside you as you stand. The chill of the room is a stark contrast to the heat of the blankets, and you shiver slightly. He notices and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind. "Let's get you warmed up," he murmurs, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.

Together, you navigate the darkened apartment, the glow from the embers painting the walls with an otherworldly hue. As you enter the bedroom, the smell of pumpkin spice lingers, a soft reminder of the festive evening you've shared. You climb into bed, the sheets cool against your skin, and Jack follows, pulling the duvet over both of you like a protective cocoon.

He wraps his arms around you, his warmth seeping into your bones, and whispers, "I'm sorry if I was too much tonight."

You laugh sleepily, turning to face him. "Jack, you know I love it when you're 'too much'." His eyes, those pools of hazel, stare into yours, a silent promise that no matter how much you pretend to be annoyed, his playful antics are a part of what makes you fall for him all over again every single day.

He kisses the tip of your nose, his grin fading into a tender smile. "Good," he whispers, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Because I can't help but want to make every moment with you unforgettable."

You lean in, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips meet his. It's a soft kiss, filled with the sweetness of your favorite candy and the warmth of mulled cider, a promise of comfort and companionship in the face of the darkest nights.

"You do," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. "Every moment with you is… it's just perfect."

Jack's smile widens, his eyes shining with affection as he pulls you closer. "And you make every moment worth living," he responds, his voice low and earnest.

The room is now a sanctuary of warmth and love, the horrors of the night confined to the glowing screen in the living room. His arms around you feel like home, and you know that no matter what the world throws at you, you'll always find refuge in the strength of his embrace.

"Jack," you whisper, your voice a soft caress against the quiet of the night. "Thank you for this."

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's nothing, really. Just wanted to make your favorite season even more special."

You snuggle closer, feeling his heartbeat against your back. The room is a cocoon of warmth and comfort, a stark contrast to the horror that had played out on the TV. "It's not nothing," you reply, your voice muffled by the pillow. "It's everything."

Jack's grip tightens around you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Everything, huh?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble in the darkness.

You nod, feeling the warmth of his chest against your back. "Every single bit of it."

Jack's chuckle rumbles through his chest, his breath tickling your neck as he says, "Well, I'm just getting started."

#jack draper #jack draper imagine #jack draper imagines #jack draper fic #jack draper fics #jack draper x reader #tennis imagine #tennis imagines #tennis fic #tennis fics

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cozyfoxy · 2 months ago

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The Brackenwood Murders Chapter 3/?

Summary: Detective Lester works to get to the bottom of things and won't let anyone get in his way.

This chapter has sexual content, read at your own risk!

Chapter One Chapter Two

Read on AO3

The next morning, Phil walked into the police station, shivering at the cold wind that wrapped itself around him like a hug. The door shut behind him, allowing a few stray leaves to fly into the main room. Phil looked around, making eye contact with the man at the front desk.

“Hello, is Mr. Brewer in his office?” He asked politely, smiling sleepily.

The man nodded and smiled back, "Yes, he is detective Lester.”

Phil thanked him softly and walked towards the already familiar office, admiring the Halloween art on the walls from the local children. Though he was there on business, he couldn’t help but have a soft spot for Brackenwood. Phil knocked gently on the door, stepping inside when Brewer’s voice told him to come in.

“Good morning, Chief Brewer, I just have a few questions for you. Then I’ll be on my way.” Phil explained calmly, looking around the room and stopping on the unfamiliar man in the extra chair, “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t know you had someone in here.”

Brewer chuckled, “Good morning to you as well, Phil; don’t worry, this is just my son, Aaron. Son, could you step out for a minute?”

Phil raised his eyebrows at the familiar name. It seemed like today was a lucky day for the detective. Aaron looked at Phil curiously before nodding at his father and stepping out into the hallway.

“Alright Brewer, I’m going to get straight to business. Last night, two local men stopped by here with what they saw as evidence for the case. I ran into them, Dan and PJ. First of all, I need to know why you think it’s okay to brush off anyone who needs help. Because you are under oath to protect those who need it, and you failed.” Phil explained, taking a seat across from Brewer.

Brewer cleared his throat, adjusting his shirt collar that suddenly felt tight. “Ah, Dan Howell and PJ Liguori. Those boys were quite the troublemakers as teens. I can’t even remember how many times they ended up in the back of my cruiser. Pranksters, them and Liam Collins. They took Halloween very seriously, always filming scary movies complete with fake blood and terrifying makeup. I got calls nearly every day in October because of it, especially from ladies over at the church. The boys liked to film in the graveyard, and it disturbed the peace. They became a bit of a problem for us here, so it’s hard to take them seriously.”

Phil nodded and pulled out his notebook and a small tape recorder, setting both onto the desk in front of him and turning the recorder on. “So you say that Dan Howell and PJ Liguori were a bit of a problem as teens, but are you aware that they’re grown adults now? They had a key piece of evidence with them last night, yes? A letter addressed to Mr. Howell with photos of Liam Collins, his late boyfriend, who was killed years ago. One of the victims in this case. Yet, you told them to stop wasting your time, and one of your cops called Mr. Howell a pervert because of the photos.”

“We weren’t comfortable seeing those photos. It was a man in sexual acts with another man; you can’t blame us. We assumed it was them trying to cause trouble and push their agenda on us. If you want to take it seriously, be my guest. But we don’t have time for their tricks here.” Brewer grumbled softly, looking through the papers on his desk uselessly.

Phil stared at the older man in front of him, anger floating to the surface of his chest. “You clearly haven’t seen half of the terrifying things that I have, Chief Brewer. You also ignored them the night of the first killing. On October 25th, 2010, the first night of the Brackenwood Halloween festival, Dan, PJ, and Liam met a man in a plague doctor costume. Mr. Howell met the man. again at the end of the night, covered in blood. You told Dan and PJ that it was clearly just part of the costume and sent them on their way. Explain that, please.”

Brewer sighed, “Why am I being interrogated, Mr. Lester?”

“Answer the question.” Phil ordered, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

Brewer took a deep breath. “It was Halloween. People around here take it seriously. Haunted houses, costume contests, scary decorations. You name it. Again, it was Halloween, and of course there would be blood-covered costumes. I assumed they were just being dramatic. Howell has always been a bit of a dramatic.”

“Why do you say that?” Phil asked softly, leaning forward.

The older man sighed, tugging on his collar again. “Dan and Aaron used to be friends. We were close with all of the Howells. The boys met at church, and they were inseparable—best friends, I’d say. One day, they were playing out on the church playground, and something scared them. I don’t even remember what it was, but Howell was screaming something awful. Aaron was crying. After that, Dan avoided Aaron and our family. He stopped going to church, and eventually, so did his family. He won’t even look me, my wife, or Aaron in the eyes now. I’ve seen the boy cry more than I have seen my own son cry. He just tends to blow things out of proportion.”

Phil hummed and crossed his ankles, making a few notes in his journal, “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re not able to drop your personal biases in favor of taking this case seriously.”

Brewer gasped, “That’s not what I’m saying at all, Lester. I just know these boys well, and I have no reason to believe that they would ever be of any help.”

“Okay. That’s all I need. I have already contacted my team back in London, as well as the head of the ministry of justice. You and your team are being taken off of the case; it’s now fully my responsibility.” Phil explained calmly, closing his journal fluidly and turning off his tape recorder.

The sheriff sat in his chair, staring at Phil like he had two heads. “What? You can’t do that!”

Phil smiled softly at the outburst. “Funny that you think so, because it’s already been done. You haven’t given any indication that you actually care about the case anyhow; you’ve had plenty of time to solve it, but you’ve failed.”

Brewer stood up angrily from his chair, making it fall back against the wall. “Listen here, you little shit; you have no right to come in here and take over what I worked my arse off to get! Stop sticking your head where it doesn’t belong! I’ll kick your ass!”

The detective smirked and looked up at the older man attempting to loom over him. “Now, now, Brewer. Anger isn’t a good look on you; you look a bit like a tomato. I could very well have you completely taken off of the force, you know, but I didn’t share every rule that you’ve broken. If you want, I can tell them everything I’ve come to realize here. Your blatant homophobia, sharing classified information with your family, and of course threatening to harm me. Now my team will be here by the end of the day. They’ll be taking residence in the two empty offices that you have here. You and your team are to leave them alone. In your words, don’t stick your head where it doesn’t belong, got it? The head of justice will be here to speak with you in the next couple of hours.”

Chief Brewer stood frozen for a moment before dropping his head in defeat, “Okay. Have a nice day, detective.” He grumbled.

Phil stood and thanked him politely while collecting his belongings before walking through the door, aimlessly searching for Aaron. He had a few questions for the man, and it was important to speak with him before Chief Brewer did. The detective walked into the back room, sighing in relief when he saw Aaron sitting at a table, sipping coffee.

“Hello there, Aaron, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.” Phil explained, pulling out his tape recorder again and turning it on, “Mind if I take a seat?”

Aaron looked at Phil with a soft smile before adjusting his glasses and nodding. Phil couldn’t help but admire how attractive the man in front of him was. He had light brown hair that was styled in a quiff; the sides buzzed short, and freckles speckled across his cheeks and jaw. He was quite muscular and tall as well, just a little shorter than Phil.

"Alright, Aaron, I’ll get this over with quickly, okay? First off, I need you to tell me about Dan Howell.” Phil explained with a smile.

Aaron nodded and sat up straighter, holding himself confidently, “Well, what about him exactly?”

Phil hummed, “I’ll be honest with you; I need to know why you told him things about the case of the Brankenwood murders. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble or anything; I just need to know so I can move forward with the case.”

“He was always curious about it, even after the first murder. Sometimes at parties or clubs he would ask me if I knew anything, and I’d give him vague answers. I never told him or showed him details until after Liam was killed.” Aaron explained calmly before taking another sip of his coffee.

Phil nodded, “Okay, so what changed? Did he pay you or something?”

Aaron laughed softly and shook his head, “Not with money, at least. You’ve seen the lad, yeah? It’s almost impossible to say no to him when he begs for something. Those eyes, fuck… he just knows how to get his way. And the fact that he gives the best head I’ve ever gotten is an added bonus.”

The detective bit his tongue for a moment, pretending to write something in his journal while he thought through his words. Knowing that Dan offered sexual favors for information on the case made him feel something close to jealousy. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt protective of Dan Howell, especially now.

“Alright, so he offers you sexual favors in return for information, yes? When and how did you two come to this agreement?” Phil asked after giving himself a moment to calm down.

Aaron chuckled and ran his fingers loosely through his hair, “It was an accident in a way. He asked me to meet him the summer after Liam was killed. He knows my pops is a blabbermouth and that I would know at least a little bit of what wasn’t put out to the public. I met him in the small forest by the graveyard. Poor thing looked a wreck, skinnier than I’ve ever seen him, shaking, and he had bags under his eyes…”

“Aaron? Where are you?” Dan called out quietly, walking into the trees carefully. Though it was the middle of summer, he was shivering from the cold.

Aaron turned his head, “Hey Danny, I’m right here.” He called back, seeing the brunette walking towards him.

Dan walked faster until he stood next to his childhood friend, trying to catch his breath. He knew that he was safe in the summer; the Brackenwood killer only struck during October, but the fear was still there. No matter where he was, whenever he was alone, he felt like someone was watching him, waiting to strike.

“Sorry I’m late; I had to wait until PJ fell asleep. He doesn’t let me leave the house alone, especially at night.” Dan explained quietly, running his fingers through his hair.

Aaron chuckled quietly to himself, leading Dan to a fallen log that he had spotted moments ago, “Listen to everything he says, like a good boy, eh?” He teased, offering Dan a seat.

Dan huffed and rolled his eyes before sitting down, “He’s trying to protect me. I’m getting better, but it’s been hard. Peej has helped a lot.”

“I know, he’s a good bloke. Now, what did you want to ask me?” Aaron asked softly, tilting his head to one side.

Dan looked into Aaron’s eyes, giving him the best submissive doe eyes he could manage, “I know your dad tells you things about the case; I want to know if he’s found anything new. About Liam, about the killer? Please?”

Aaron looked into Dan’s eyes, biting his lip. He knew that Dan wanted information for more than just answers; he wanted it for his blog. The very blog that Aaron’s father hated because it always knew too much. The same blog that put the Brewer family on edge. He wanted to refuse; he wanted to tell Dan to go home and forget about it, but he couldn’t say no to the beautiful man beside him.

“What’s in it for me?” Aaron asked, his chest tightening.

Without any warning, Dan sank to his knees, rubbing his pale cheeks against Aaron’s clothed thighs. It was a soft touch, but it was enough to make the normally strong-willed man melt. He sighed softly and ran his fingers through Dan’s slightly matted curls.

“Please tell me, Daddy, I’ll do anything. I’ll suck your cock. Let you fuck my pretty mouth until you cum. I’ll let you use me like a worthless toy. I haven’t been used in a long time; I need your cock, daddy.” Dan whimpered, slipping Aaron’s thumb into his mouth and sucking gently.

Aaron groaned gutterally and tugged Dan’s hair softly, "Okay, pet, why don’t you suck Daddy’s cock, and he’ll tell you everything he knows. I’ll even let you publish it on your little blog. The harder you make me cum, the more information you get.”

Dan nodded eagerly and unzipped Aaron’s jeans with his teeth, pulling out his hardening cock and sucking softly at the tip, lapping up the precum like it was water and he was lost in a desert. He stroked Aaron’s cock lazily as he sucked, admiring the soft grunts from the man above him.

“Mmm, you and that mouth, baby. It’s been too long. Now, here’s some of what I know. My pops has decided that the killer must go to the Raven’s Roost often; he’s telling our townspeople to avoid the club. Fuck, that’s good.” Aaron moaned as Dan took him deeper.

Dan hummed around Aaron’s cock, using his tongue to rub the tip as he bobbed his head. Aaron tightened his hands in Dan’s hair, fighting the urge to fuck Dan’s mouth mercilessly. Normally, he wouldn’t care. He knew what Dan could take and what he couldn’t handle, but Dan looked so fragile. Aaron didn’t want to actually hurt him, no matter if Dan would like it or not.

“Good boy, doing so well for me. Fuck… As of right now, he thinks it’s a man between the ages of 20 and 25, with a strong build and likely tall. He doesn’t think he’s working on his own. I have some crime scene photos I can give you. Hell, I’ll give you a copy of his notes, baby; just keep sucking.” Aaron moaned, staring into the brunette’s eyes.

Dan suddenly moaned around his cock, making Aaron shake at the feeling. He tugged Dan’s hair harder, making Dan’s nose press flush against his pubes, He had the crime reports in his bag; he was hoping that Dan would be willing to suck him off for the information. He wanted to give the man everything that he deserved.

“I’m gonna cum baby, get ready.” Aaron moaned, feeling the familiar pressure build in his lower abdomen.

Dan gripped Aaron’s thighs tightly, squeezing them as a way of giving permission. Aaron groaned in understanding and thrust his hips mercilessly, the soft gags coming from Dan only turning him on more.

“Fuck, fuck baby...” Aaron moaned loudly as he shot his load down Dan’s throat, fucking him through the orgasm.

The brunette waited until Aaron was done before pulling off with a soft pop, leaning his cheek into his friend’s awaiting palm, enjoying the affection.

“You did so good for Daddy, so damn good. The information is all yours.” Aaron panted, pulling out a folder of notes and images from his bag and handing them to Dan.

Dan sighed thankfully, “Thank you, Aaron. It means a lot. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you out of it.”

Aaron nodded and helped Dan stand up, “I know, baby boy, now get home to PJ; we don’t want him worrying about you. But if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“So that’s what happened.” Aaron explained with a shrug, “Then it became a thing for us. He needed more information; if I had it, I would give it to him. He’d give me his pretty mouth. I never asked for more.” Aaron shrugged again.

Phil cleared his throat and nodded, crossing his legs discreetly as his erection ached in his dress pants, “So he most likely still has the folder on information, yeah?”

Aaron nodded and leaned closer to Phil with a smirk, “Yep. He keeps everything that I give him in a chest underneath his bed.”

“Thank you for your help, Aaron. I plan on keeping you away from the case as much as possible, so don’t worry about anything.” Phil explained, reaching out for a handshake.

Aaron reached out to shake Phil’s hand, his jacket sleeve sliding down just a bit and showing a familiar black paper bracelet, a white raven printed on the side. The Raven’s Roost. Phil felt his body tense a bit, but he worked to hide it.

“That’s an interesting bracelet there. It’s from the Raven’s Roost, yeah? What’s it for?” Phil asked casually.

Aaron blushed a bit and nodded, “Should I bother lying about it? Or do you know your stuff?”

“I know my stuff, so don’t bother lying. I’ve done a lot of research on the club; I know the wristbands and their meanings. I know you’re a hardcore dom. But I’m more interested in how often you go and how many people you know there.” Phil explained calmly, waiting patiently for an answer.

Aaron sighed and looked into Phil’s eyes, “It’s the only BDSM club anywhere near here; a lot of the gay community goes there. I go every Friday night, sometimes Monday nights when I can. I’ve never noticed anything weird or anyone weird. But I don’t go super often, so I wouldn’t be the most helpful. But if you go there, you’ll get a lot of attention, pretty boy, from myself included.” He teased softly with a wink.

Phil chuckled softly, “I’ll look into investigating at the club. Thank you again for your help.” He said again, standing up and hiding his crotch behind his briefcase. It had been awhile since he had some fun, and his body was giving that away.

“Hey, detective, just so you know, if you want to take away some stress, come find me. I’ll show you a good time.” Aaron offered with a smile, watching as Phil left the room.

The detective sighed and walked in long strides out of the police station, heading straight to his hotel that was luckily just a few blocks away. He could feel his cock leaking precum in his boxers; the feeling had already become uncomfortable. He knew that he needed to take care of it quickly.

As soon as he stepped into his room, he locked the door and threw his clothes into a pile on the floor, the cool air making him shiver. He threw himself onto the bed and licked his hand, stroking his cock lazily. Phil closed his eyes tightly, imagining the pleasure that he was feeling was coming from someone else.

He imagined pale pink lips wrapped around the head of his cock, chocolate brown eyes boring into his own blue ones. Phil imagined that Dan would be needy, whiney even, begging for his cock. It had been such a long time, that in just a few flicks of his wrist, Phil was cumming into his own hand, a soft moan of Dan’s name on his lips.

The detective huffed and walked to the bathroom awkwardly to clean himself up. A dark curtain of shame loomed over him like a cloud, leaving a twisted feeling in his stomach. He was here to complete a job, not fantasize about those involved with his case. Phil glowered at himself in the mirror for a moment, trying lazily to fix his hair that was sticking up in odd places.

A soft ding from the main room of his hotel caught his attention, and he sauntered over to his bed. Phil pulled on a new pair of boxer briefs and slid back into his dress pants before picking up his phone. A message from the very man that he had fantasized only moments prior sent a shiver down Phil’s spine, but not one of shame, one of worry.

Dan- “Hi. Could you stop by today sometime, please? I got another letter. Scared to leave my apartment.”

#phan #phandom #dip and pip #phan fic #phanfiction #phan au #amazingphil #dan howell #The Brackenwood murders

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