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#Old Man Gray Mountain
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Old man Gray Mountain telling his grandchildren legends about the early days of the Navajo people inside a traditional hogan in Coconino County, Arizona - Navajo - 1948
[Native Lives Matter]
* * * *
“I know that’s true,” Leaphorn said. “But I’m not sure I understand why.” “Because the collector gets the story along with the pot. People say why is that snake pink. He explains. That makes him an authority.” Tarkington laughed. “You Navajos don’t practice that one-upmanship game like we do. You fellows who stay in that harmony philosophy.” 
Leaphorn grinned. “Be more accurate to say a lot of Navajos try, but remember we have a curing ceremony to heal us when we start getting vengeful, or greedy, or—what do you call it—‘getting ahead of the Joneses.’” “Yeah,” Tarkington said. “I could tell you a tale about trying to get a Navajo businessman to buy a really fancy saddle. Lots of silver decorations, beautiful stitching, even turquoise worked in. He was interested. Then I told him it would make him look like the richest man on the big reservation. And he took a step back and said it would make him look like a witch.” 
Leaphorn nodded. “Yes,” he said. “At least it would make the traditional Dineh suspicious. Unless he didn’t have any poor kinfolks whom he should have been helping. And all of us have poor kinfolks.” 
Tarkington shrugged. “Prestige,” he said. “You Navajos aren’t so hungry for that. I’ll ask a Navajo about something that I know he’s downright expert about. He won’t just tell me. He’ll precede telling me by saying, ‘They say.’ Not wanting me to think he is claiming the credit.”
The Shape Shifter (Leaphorn & Chee, #18)by Tony Hillerman
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laikahh · 11 months
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i love being scared all day i should have more things that make me really scared happen to me
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bluerosefox · 8 months
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Over Tea
A sudden chill sweeps through Gotham, almost like Mr. Freeze had just attacked only thing was the man was currently locked away in Arkham, and was felt by all. And talked by all via word of mouth and on social media as well.
The clouds and smog that covered their dark city shifted and swirled, a rumble beginning deep inside them as the weather turned from smoggy to rain and thunder with no real warning. The strangest thing was the green glow that could be seen when thunder rumbled inside the gray clouds.
Then like a candle being blown out, the rumbling stopped, the rain ended, and the clouds parted all over Gotham.
For the first time in a while Gotham had a clear sky and it felt... it felt like something heavy had been lifted off the city.
It was this sudden shift and the all felt chill that had set off alerts for Batman and his family. Since early morning since the first change and shift happened he was in front of the Batcomputer trying to narrow down where it started.
After hours of searching with the help of Red Robin, Oracle and strangely enough Red Hood, they managed to narrow down where the odd power had been coming from.
Was still coming from, only very low.
The old and abandoned observatory tower.
-x-x-
"More ecto-tea Lady Gotham?" Danny asked, his hand waving towards the steaming pot nearby.
The woman smiled lightly, her dark painted lips curling up to show her sharp fangs for a moment before saying "No but thank you Young Kingling though I would like more cookies if you don't mind. Now where were we?"
Danny nodded towards her and signaled towards a maid skeleton ghost who walked forward with a tray of cookies. The maid swiftly placed a few more cookies on the spirit embodiment of Gotham plate before bowing and stepping away.
"We were just about to discuss the sentience of the Court of Owls." Danny said as he lightly tapped the large almost mountain of paperwork on the table they were sitting at, floating high above the floor as shooting stars and planets drifted around them. Many ghosts floated around as well, servants that had sworn their loyalty to the Young King, and were preparing things like snacks and drinks for two powerful beings in the room as they discussed business. Nearby doors and windows though were ghostly knights that stood tall and alert, making sure no interlopers interrupted the meeting taking place and ready to defend not only Lady Gotham but their King.
"Ah yes them." Lady Gotham grimaced as she took a drink of her ecto-tea. "That will take some time for us to discuss, they've been running around unchecked for to long and even with my limited abilities to hinder them has been less than ideal."
"You, Lady G, were deeply cursed for many, many years and I just broke most of it." Danny cut in quickly, he was not about to let this wonderful and powerful city spirit blame herself for something out of her hands "Due to said curse you couldn't do much so please don't go blaming yourself. Its mostly broken now, so you can freely start healing yourself and your city self now that jerk demon that cursed you is in Walker's prison for his crimes."
Lady Gotham grew silent for a moment, her dark eyes staring deeply at the young King but then warmly smiled, well as warm as she could seeing how she was Gotham itself. "You reminded me of my Knight, Young King, treating me like this. Not afraid to point out the truth and facts."
Danny gave a light laugh as he took a hold of one of the cookies on his plate and gave a bite "I'll take that as a compliment Lady Gotham. Now about those Court of Owls...."
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tightjeansjavi · 3 months
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the feel of coldness only water brings
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A/N: so this is the unplanned part two of this Joel drabble I wrote called wildflowers. I just woke up this morning to some lovely reblogs on it, thus inspiring this piece 🥺 oh, and I also thought of @beefrobeefcal and her beefy, fat! Joel fics that are so so good while I was writing this!
~word count: 1.6k~
Summary: you convince Joel to join you for a swim in a lake while on patrol despite his insecurities
Pairing | joel x f!reader
Warnings: implied smut, fluff, angst (so sorry) non specified age gap between Joel and the reader, body insecurities(Joel), self deprecating thoughts, real bodies, natural body changes with age etc, language, teasing, flirting, body appreciation/worship, peepaw!joel, grumpy!joel, sunshine reader, reader has no physical descriptions (outside of wearing a bra and panties) +18 minors dni!
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Sweat beads and drips down from the base of his hairline and slowly seeps into the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric naturally. His steel toed boots stop at the water's edge, soft ripples lapping at the worn leather with a soft audible swish. The lake is crystalline, and beneath the glass surface he sees a million different rocks, all shapes and sizes and textures. The mountain air is crisp, refreshing as he inhales deeply.
The high noon sun blinds his vision momentarily, but he welcomes it. The fabric of his shirt is beginning to grow itchy, scratching at his skin from the beading perspiration. He kicks a stray rock into water, watching as it sinks into the shallow depths.
“Joel.” Your voice carries over the water, your head and shoulders bobbing like a cork in the middle of the glistening lake. “You said it yourself, there’s no infected out here, and the water is so refreshing. Won’t you join me?”
His shoulders tense beneath the fabric of his shirt, his jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He squints, bringing his hand over his forehead to block out the blinding rays, “M’fine here, darlin.’” He chuffs out, “Besides, one of us has to be on alert.” He added, rationalizing his decision.
“Is it because you can’t swim?” It was a safe assumption to make.
He shook his head, kicking another rock with the toe of his boot. “It ain’t that.”
“Okay, so you can swim? Well, then what’s the issue? C’mon, baby. You’re practically sweating right through your shirt.” You said teasingly, hoping to see the corners of his permanent set frown quirk upwards, just for you.
“It’s silly.” He wavered, eyes casting downwards to his boots. “M’just—insecure s’all. Don’t want you to uh—see me like that.” He was never the best with communicating, but he tried with you, and that’s all you could ever really ask for.
“Joel, it’s not silly. If it makes you feel any better, you can keep your clothes on? It doesn’t matter to me because I think you're handsome, and your real body isn’t gonna suddenly make me stop feeling the way I do for you.” You reassured him with a soft smile.
“If I keep my clothes on m’gonna sink like a fuckin’ rock.” He forced out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a huff. “Y’say that now…” he trailed off, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “But ‘m littered with scars, baby. Got grays on my chest and—m’barely fittin’ in my jeans these days. Should probably hold off on extra—”
“Joel.” You sighed, “I’m gonna stop you right there. Cause everything you just described to me?” You lifted your hands up from under the water in emphasis, “is a real fucking body. More importantly, it’s your body. You’re a healthy man, Joel. Your jeans ain’t fitting the same because you’re no longer in survival mode. You’re getting to indulge in a way that you weren’t able to in over 20 years. You're strong, but you're also soft in the right places.”
He doesn't believe you, of course. He would argue that it was because he had grown old and lazy like a house cat. You didn’t give him the chance, however.
“I love how soft and squishy your stomach is. You know why?”
He shook his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck and face,
“Because it acts as the perfect pillow for my head when we’re napping, and I love to grab onto your love handles when we’re cuddlin.’ Love to feel the way it presses into me when we hug. Or when you’re takin’ me from behind.”
“You’re just sayin’ that.” He scoffed.
“Am I?” You challenged him as you pulled yourself out of the water, dripping wet in just your flimsy pair of bra and panties.
“Don’t.” He warned you, taking a step to the side when you reached out to touch him. As if he was a frightened animal shying away. “M’jus’ a fat old man, darlin.’ Don’t gotta lie to me, sweetheart. I can accept the truth.” He was on the edge of snapping, nearly baring his teeth.
“Joel.” You said softly, “stop that. I ain’t have a reason to lie to you. Never have, never will.”
“You don’t have to protect my heart, darlin.’ S’okay. I ain’t deservin’ of your kindness. Don’t know why you even waste your time with a man like me—”
You looped your thumbs into the worn belt loops of his jeans and yanked him towards you swiftly despite his faint protests. “Would you shut up, please?”
Loose pebbles crunched beneath his heavy boots when you pulled him towards you and his hands naturally found your waist, big palms splayed across your damp skin. “Don’t you think you deserve yourself a real man? Someone who—isn’t like me?”
“You are a real man, Joel.” You gently remind him and slowly slip your thumbs from the belt loops of his jeans. “You’re beautiful, and I just wish you could see what I see.”
“Beautiful?” He scoffed, nose twitching when he felt your hands slowly slide up the expanse of his covered chest, “that ain’t me, sweetheart.” He rasped, tilting his chin downwards so he could watch your fingers gently toy with the buttons on his shirt.
“It is you, Joel. And one day you’ll wake up and realize it. And when that day comes, you’ll look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are beautiful, and you are loved, and you are deserving of kindness and softness for as long as Mother Nature lets me have you.”
He could feel himself slowly begin to cave from your words, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, and he would claim that it was just from the blinding sun and the irritating sweat dripping from his brow. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, darlin.’ Don’t think I’ll ever understand it. You could have your pick of men in Jackson, and you choose me?” He stifled a chuckle, dipping his chin down further so he could kiss the edge of your fingertips.
“You’re worth more than the whole damn bunch, Joel. Stubborn ass of a man, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Undress me.” He murmured, swallowing the lump rising in his throat, “M’yours.”
You smiled, dragging your thumb against his jaw and slowly tilted his chin upwards so your eyes could meet, “Remember, it’s just you and me out here. Nothin’ but miles and miles of wilderness.”
“Kiss me.” He whispered, tightening his grip around your hips, pulling you in closer.
Your lips brush, testing the waters before you fully kiss him. Tasting the sweat from his brow that had trickled down his lips. Soft, chapped, warm and familiar against your own.
Your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt open, exposing his skin to the warm rays from the sun. You pushed the strained fabric down his shoulders, letting the shirt fall to the pebbles below. You traced his scars with delicate movements, detaching your lips from his so you could follow the path your fingers created. You nipped at the softness of his bicep, pressing open mouthed kisses that trailed down his arm to his hand. You kissed each knuckle, each callous with your eyes staying locked on his.
You squeezed the soft plump flesh of his love handles, imagining yourself using them as an anchor when you would ride his cock in the early morning hours when neither of you could sleep.
You dragged your nose against the swell of his belly, feeling him tense up before melting into your touch like a pad of butter on a hot pan. You inhaled his musky scent, dragging your lips southwards through the dark hair of his happy trail, pressing a kiss there, too.
Your fingers moved in muscle memory as you undid his belt, tugging his too tight jeans over his hips and strong thighs, letting them pool at his ankles.
He watches your every move, brows furrowed together at the sight of you on your knees between his thighs. He hopes to god there is no danger lurking nearby. He wants this memory etched into his brain for the rest of his days.
He breathes out a strained puff of air from between his parted lips when you press the tip of your nose against the underside of his heavy cock, and the drag of your hot tongue through the strained fabric.
A groan bubbles up his throat, spilling over and he presses his hips into your face, the swell of his belly brushing against the crown of your head.
You giggle, nipping lightly at the fabric, feeling his cock twitch and harden. You watch his eyes roll back, words tumbling out in tandem.
“Do. Not. Tease. Me.” He growled and you giggled at his response.
“If you want more…you’re just gonna have to catch me!” You rose from your knees before he could grab ahold of you, stepping back with that glint in your eye.
“Hey! That ain’t fair and you know it!” He huffed, already struggling to unlace his boots so he could pull his jeans off completely. He cursed under his breath when he watched you dive back into the refreshing waters.
“Gonna get you back for this.” He grumbled to himself, fighting the urge to grin at the warmth that he felt flooding in his chest.
You heard a loud splash just as you resurfaced, and two dark brown eyes locked onto you like a target as you playfully swam away.
Your giggles and his deep, raspy laughter filled the hot summer air like a song that you would play on repeat, over and over again.
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emotional-fox · 7 months
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therian playlists ♬
now playing: fox
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
dirty paws, of monsters and men
fox on the run, sweet
soldier, poet, king, the oh hellos
like the dawn, the oh hellos
crystals, of monsters and men
furr, blitzen trapper
country roads, john denver
rhiannon, fleetwood mac
bare trees, fleetwood mac
back in my body, maggie rogers
i of the storm, of monsters and men
the warming moon, rogue valley
now playing: wolf
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
running with the wolves, aurora
wolves without teeth, of monsters and men
furr, blitzen trapper
she-wolf, shakira
dirty paws, of monsters and men
wild mountain honey, steve miller band
eyes wide open, gotye
brother wolf, sister moon, the cult
landslide, fleetwood mac
the chain, fleetwood mac
wolves, bon iver
alaska, maggie rogers
now playing: rabbit
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
roger rabbit, sleeping with sirens
rabbit hole, aviva
peach, the front bottoms
prey, the neighborhood
pumped up kicks, foster the people
bunny, bunny, bunny, the golden orchestra
rabbit heart (raise it up), florence and the machine
it will come back, hozier
sunlight, hozier
your rabbit feet, wild nothing
you fill up my senses, john denver
like the dawn, the oh hellos
now playing: lion
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
king and lionheart, of monsters and men
truth to power, onerepublic
little lion man, mumford and sons
fearless, night watch
and i miss you, sade
love song for a prairie fire, jayber crow
lion’s teeth, the mountain goats
onions, the mountain goats
a pillow of wings, pink floyd
i know the end, phoebe bridgers
this river is wild, the killers
lioness, songs: ohia
now playing: hawk
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
the eagle and the hawk, john denver
talons, bloc party
birds of the high arctic, david gray
seven nation army, the white stripes
fly with me, the jonas brothers
hunter, galantis
never coming home (song for the guilty), in live the dream
halcyon, the paper kites
featherstone, the paper kites
birds, imagine dragons
heft, japanese breakfast
plum, troye sivan
now playing: squirrel
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
no roots, alice merton
prey, the neighborhood
dirt, bryan lanning
rivers and roads, the head and the heart
old pine, ben howard
ends of the earth, lord huron
woodland, the paper kites
savior complex, phoebe bridgers
melancholyism, super whatvr
red squirrel, stackridge
sofia, clairo
furr, blitzen trapper
little acorns, the white stripes
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thatdeadaquarius · 4 months
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GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)
Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-
The almighty all powerful wise creator isss
✨️A literal child✨️
Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️
Baby you taking on the world aw
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DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/
Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,
Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-
I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲
Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: Short Headcanons
Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment any I missed. /gen
Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.
You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀
Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child
if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you
and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)
(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)
You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes
it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest
(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)
Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food
She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3
They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you
(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)
Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol
Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…
Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you
Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out
Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol
she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her
(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)
SPEAKING OF BARBATOS
ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)
if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol
takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go
tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)
anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want
(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)
(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)
srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)
and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭
I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)
hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D
Safe Travels Anon,
💀♒
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♡the beloveds♡
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
Text
𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑯
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni, comfort
word count: 2.5k
summary: joel brings you a care pack Maria gave him and you find a razor inside but when you confess your insecurities around the topic, Joel offers to help you out.
warnings: oral (receiving), reader having body hair and mentions of people nagging her about it pre-outbreak, joel trimming and shaving you, very domestic and soft joel
a/n: this is very self-indulgent babes, very soft joel, very domestic joel. I just want that big gruff man to take care of me thank you very much.
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You still love the rain. 
It didn’t matter if you were out under a tent, didn’t matter if you were huddled with Joel in a cave—you still loved it all the same. The sound of thunder, the cold water drops against your skin, the smell. 
God, the smell of wet soil, the freshness of it swirling in your lungs. Observing the gray sky, the moving clouds, and the peaks of the mountains hidden beneath them, you’re in love with it all. Even on days when you were frustrated, angry, bloody, and bruised, the rain seemed to wash that all away without even touching your skin. 
You smile underneath the heavy downpour of the steaming shower. Your bones ache tenderly, muscles turning to shapable clay underneath waterdrops. It’s heavenly. You don’t even remember the last time you felt warm water sliding down your body. Even after giving Tommy an earful about not letting Joel know he was alright, you have to give him kudos for building a life for himself. Jackson seems like the perfect community; there was food, hot water, homes—and most importantly, safety. 
Turning off the water, you step outside. It almost feels like the old days. Your mirror is fogged up, the steam clinging to your softened skin. Wrapping a towel snugly around your body, you wonder what Joel is up to. 
Tommy and Maria had prepared you two separate rooms. It wasn’t needed, but you kept your mouth shut at the time. It’s still hard to know what Joel would be comfortable with. Maybe he preferred to sleep alone, you didn’t want to force him into anything he didn’t want to. He hadn’t said anything to that, he just placed a hand over your thigh, squeezing it tenderly from underneath the table. His gaze never left Tommy’s when he did, the conversation still flowing effortlessly. 
When you step out of the bathroom, the steam shadowing your steps, you’re surprised to find Joel on the bed. 
His gaze slowly moves up, a smile blossoming on his lips. You had dubbed that smile of his his “half-smile”. Happy but unsure if he should be. 
“Lookin’ good,” he murmurs, soft browns raking up and down your body. “Fresh as a daisy.” 
You grin and, lifting the bottom of your towel slightly, give him an unbalanced bow. “Why thank you, kind sir.” 
His smile widens and you practically melt under his gaze. Without saying another word, he throws a small bag toward you. Nearly falling, you catch it and peek inside. It’s a menstrual cup, a half-decent razor, and a small pair of scissors. You shoot him a quizzical look. 
“From Maria,” he says. “I have no idea what’s in it.” 
“Nothing important. A menstrual cup and a razor.” you exhale. 
“Then why are you actin’ as if she gave you a severed finger? Aren’t those…good things?” 
“It is. Just, I don’t know. It’s good.” 
He raises to his feet and a second later two strong arms wrap themselves around you. You lean into him without a second thought, if water is seeping through his shirt, he doesn’t say a word. Joel’s thumbs move in circles above the towel. You let out a sigh. 
“I’m not good at it,” you say hoping that he’ll just understand. 
He doesn’t.
“Not good at what?” 
You really hate this. It’s a stupid thing to worry about but your inability to properly shave had always proven to be an issue before the outbreak. Men scrunching up their noses, friends commenting you should get it removed, professionals claiming it’s “dirty” when realistically speaking it wasn't. 
Then the outbreak happened, and even though it was the end of the world, at least you didn’t need to worry about body hair. A bit of a heartless thought, you realize, but your brain still whispers gratitude from time to time. 
Joel didn’t mind, or just didn’t say anything. He held you all the same, fucking himself deeper with every thrust, holding you tight enough that you were convinced he’d never let you go. He starved for you. Some days he tasted you until you felt raw and overwhelmed. He never said anything. Why would he when the both of you were just trying to survive? 
But now that was different. You had a temporary home, warm water. 
A bed. 
It just feels silly to admit this insecurity now. He’s already seen it all, felt it all, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to tidy yourself up a bit. You have the time after all. God knows when you’ll get a chance like this again. 
Joel’s arms tighten around you and you feel his chapped lips against your neck. You’ve been silent for too long. 
“Tell me.” 
You swallow. “Shaving.” you answer. “I’m not…I’m not good at it. Always miss a spot especially—” 
“Especially?” 
You hear the blood rush in your ears, your heart beats in your throat. Your lips are sealed shut, a thin line refusing to break. When his hand slides down your stomach you look down, your legs already shaking. His lips touch your ear. 
“Show me.” 
Covering his hand with your own, you guide him down until it’s resting on your mound. His fingers gently press down, he feels the fabric of the towel and his lips brush the side of your chin. 
“Do you want me to help?” his breath feels heavy and warm against your skin.
“You’d…” you lick your lips. “You’d want to do that?” 
“Only if you want me to,” he answers, large hands gripping your hips. “You don’t have to do it, of course. I mean, you don’t have to shave if that’s not your thing.” 
You turn within his arms and cradle his face with both hands. You feel light as a feather, soft tears building in your eyes as you smile. Joel must’ve seen the extra shine because he leans in to kiss you. It’s not a consuming kiss but a comforting one. You take deep breaths as those same pair of lips travel down the column of your throat, his kisses wet when he reaches your shoulder. He gently nudges you towards the bed. 
“Lay down the towel, get comfortable.” you feel his lips one more time before he parts away. “I’ll be back in a minute.” 
You do as you’re told. Laying down the towel, you swallow how nervous you are. The coolness of the room chills your skin but your insides are boiling hot. You feel like you should do more than just laying down on a towel, like you should prepare more thoroughly. But you’ve already taken a shower. Not really much else you can do but that right? 
Your fingers twitch over the bed sheets and stare blankly at the ceiling. This is awkward. You should’ve said no, you should’ve—
“Breath in, sweetheart,” Joel says standing at the door with a small bucket and another towel. He sighs when you give him a look of—what you assume—absolute horror. 
The bed dips as he takes a seat at the end. Placing the bucket full of water down, he skims your leg with the tips of his fingers. 
“We can stop whenever you want to,” he reminds you. “I promise to be careful.” 
You mutter alright and as soon as you do his hand moves to the inner section of your leg, heat gathers at the base of your spine, you let out a breath. 
“Part you legs for me, honey.” 
The pose alone feels uncomfortably familiar. You remember the days you would have to get waxed, how it would hurt and how you would just stare at the ceiling thinking that it’d be over soon. You press your sweaty hands into the sheets, a slight termble to your thighs as Joel comes closer. His hand finds the dip of your waist, his touch feather light, moving up your body and resting right under the swell of your breast. The gesture sooths you like it would a wounded animal. You let out a breath. 
Your gaze drops to look at him and he holds your gaze, squeezing your flesh tenderly before pulling back his hand. He raises his brows and you nod at his silent question. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. And when your head falls back into the pillows you’re smiling, the tension drained away from your muscles. 
You never thought that this would be the type of comfort you would be receiving during the ends of the earth. Joel is gentle, precise. He’s a man that’s good with his hands and it shows. His thumb moves between your folds, when you let out a sharp sigh, he repeats the movement and his lips curl with amusement. 
“You like that?” 
You hum. “It feels good.” 
“I’ll make you feel even better in a bit.” 
First he trims down the hairs, then he dabs your mound with the water he brought and begins shaving you. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s oddly soothing. His fingers move over the places that are freshly shaved, a soft hum echoing from his throat at a job well done. He takes his time. And whenever you look down you notice the swirl of emotion in his eyes that he’s enjoying doing this for you. The crease between his brows softens, the tip of his tongue snug between his lips as he continues. It’s nice. 
“You enjoy this?” you ask, it sounds louder in the silence of the room. 
Joel takes a moment to wet the razor again, cleaning the access.  When he looks up to you, you can’t help but press your knee into his cheek. He leans into the contact, lips finding the slope and leaving a tender kiss. 
“I enjoy that you trust me,” he murmurs. “I enjoy takin’ care of you.” 
“That’s a relief,” you answer, your head falling back down. You shudder as you feel his lips once more, then he spreads your legs again. “And for the record I do like…being taken care of.” 
“You don’t need to be shy about it,” he drawls. “I know.” 
Your heart skips a beat, blood pools under your nails. “You do?” 
“I mean…yeah?” he chuckles. “We’ve been together for a while, you and I, and I think by now I know a thing or two of what you like. I love it when you cling to me when I’m inside you, the way you mutter for me to hold you and go harder,” his voice drops a beat, his breath hot and heavy as it fans over your sex. Slick pools between your legs. “I know it wasn’t always good with me but I’m glad to be the person you turn to.” 
“Joel…”
Before you can say anything, he presses a towel against your core and wipes you down. He doesn’t look back at you as he does so. You know that it’s hard for him to say that. To confess something he hadn’t even confessed to himself for years. 
“All done.” he says, throwing the razor into the bucket and the towel to the floor. Joel doesn’t move away, and neither do you. Your breathing grows heavy, your chest stuttering with every exhale. He comes closer and guides your legs above his shoulder. You feel his breath, his heat, his gaze. 
He kisses the skin right under your pubic bone, he holds your gaze as he moves up, his lips tender against your folds. 
“Can I?” he whispers, the need of his tone sending shudders up your spine. 
“Go ahead.” 
Joel’s tongue dips between the lips of your cunt, his lips moving the same way it does when he presses them onto your mouth. His fingers bite into your skin, the movement of his tongue more eager as he tugs you further down and into his mouth. Joel savors the taste as moves he long and slow. You feel the flat of his tongue, the trembling of his chest as he groans into you. Without thinking you jerk towards his mouth, his lips too sinful, too good for you to stay still. You thread your fingers into his hair and pull him closer. 
A moan part your lips as he parts your folds and flicks his tongue over your clit. A sharp feeling of pelasure courses through you, too sudden to be described as a wave, too overwhelming and lingering to be described as a jolt of electricity. He’s the only one to make you feel like this. He laves at the sensitive bundle fo nerves, pursing his lips around the nub and swirling his tongue around it. You chase the feeling, grinding up into him until he pins your hips down and inhales you. 
“Stay still,” he groans. “You taste so good, honey. Could live out the rest of my days spoilin’ this perfect cunt.” 
He sloopily laps at your cunt and sucks at the clit, the pads of his fingers draw circles over your aching hole before sliding two in. Your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping nearly all the way to your chest. 
“Shit—” you choke out, your hips trembling. “Shit, shit, shit. Joel, please—” 
“Love it when you get all needy for me,” he says, licking a stripe up between your folds as he rocks his fingers deeper into you. “My sweet girl, can’t even as what she wants. You want me to make you come, sweetheart?” 
“Yes,” you cry out. “Yes, yes, please make me come. Please—you feel so good, Joel.” 
He nips at the inside of your thigh before coming back to your sex, his fingers are knuckle deep and you see white when he curls them. Every nerve is burning with want, with need. Your stomach tightens, your skin prickling with everything he does. You can barely breathe, suffocating and swallowing down your bated breaths. 
He takes his time, pulling his fingers out before plunging them back in, pushing you to the very brink. You shudder, your body trembling with pleasure as he laps and suckles at your sweetest spots. His tongue moves in circles and swirls, flicking and rubbing against your clit as he increases the tempo. His fingers work in tandem, thrusting deep inside you, his other hand holding you firmly in place. 
Your body is consumed by him, your mind spinning from the intensity of it. Joel doesn't let up, his movements becoming more and more frenzied as he brings you to the edge of oblivion. You can feel your orgasm building inside you, and as it reaches its peak you break down, letting out a cry as you gush around his fingers and drench his lips. You grip at Joel's hair as your body is rocked by wave after wave of pleasure, your hips bucking wildly against his face as your orgasm takes full control. 
Joel holds you close, his fingers still inside you as your orgasm slowly subsides. He kisses your stomach, and you feel a warmth spread through you.
He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean before moving up your body and pulling you into a tight embrace. There’s something incredibly vulnerable about you being completely in the nude while he’s compeltly clothed. You curl into a ball, he pulls you closer. 
“I think I need another shower,” you grin, looking up. “You made a mess of me, Joel Miller.” 
“Up to you,” he murmurs and presses his lips to your forehead. “But this time I’m joining you.” 
2K notes · View notes
itsonlydana · 29 days
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where snow falls and conversation strikes | hobbit
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pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑
Your train gets caught in a snowstorm and when the first class gets moved into the normal compartments, a beautiful man asks to sit with you
warnings/tags: modern(ish)!AU, First Meetings, Fluff
wordcount: 3,7k
an: wrote this mostly on the train on my way to work every morning so it took a while and suddenly its 25° c and not 0°c anymore... oops? and lets ignore that my layout for fics is not even close to uniformly
+ masterlist + rules + read the fic on ao3 +
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
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The view outside the train window was white in its purest form. The mush of white flakes went from gently landing on the glass to completely covering it, obscuring everything behind an opaque wall. 
A few hours ago it had been a wonderful sight of frost-tipped mountains, sloping meadows, and high-risen forests that made the long journey not only bearable but quite enjoyable. The hours had flown by just like the landscape, yet – as the newspapers had predicted it would happen – the gray clouds coming in from the seaside had caught up with the train weaving through the country and now, ever so slowly, it lost its speed. 
It couldn't have been long to the city. The last stop had been a while ago and if it weren't for the clouds hanging so low, coloring the sky ashen and the snow that just wouldn't stop falling, you could have probably seen the first small villages that dotted the outside of the city.
The train slowing down had been inevitable, you had known as much when you had boarded earlier this morning, though you had hoped to arrive at the destination fast enough that you would have outrun this weather.
Back in the city, back home, the weather would have been a small inconvenience but nothing that would hold you back.
The old speakers crackled just as you adjusted your seat, bringing forth another storm though this one ravaged through the inside: 
"We're mighty sorry 'bout this bother, but we kindly ask for yer patience. We've been movin' at a snail's pace 'cause of this darn weather, and now we're told we gotta face this blasted snowstorm 'fore we can carry on."
Even through the walls of your compartment, you heard the groaning and moaning of the other passengers. 
It wasn't surprising, the decision to travel onward would be foolish – everyone on this train knew – but the times you did travel like this you found that people seemed to bond over these expressions of annoyance toward something no one could be blamed for. The annoyed grunts that were passed along the rows with an eye roll made up for hours of silence daring the others to interrupt their own peaceful silence.
Your sigh fogged up the window, and you let your head fall back against the cushions, fixating your gaze on the white haze outside when the scruffy voice continued speaking after clearing his throat: 
"As it's damn impossible to know how long this weather's gonna last or whether it'll get worse, we kindly ask our first-class guests in the rear carriages to come through to the front. Heating there could be gone any minute. Make room for 'em. You'll of course be helped with your luggage."
Knowing that there is not much else to do than to sit back and wait, you picked up the book you had been reading, a collection of short stories by your favorite author that you knew by heart yet the familiar words provided comfort and you were quickly far away in those lands described.
Before you could finish the story you had left on though, a noise startled you and pulled you right back. The door of your compartment slid open by a tall man peeping his head in. 
"Good evening, forgive the intrusion, but might I trouble you for a moment? I was told I could find a seat here. Would that be alright?" The man raised his shoulder to stop the bag he was carrying from sliding down, it wouldn't do what he wanted and slipped to his elbow.
He was beautiful, despite the distressed look on his face that was covered by his long blonde hair falling into it as he glared at the bag; on its way down his arm, it had taken the coat he had hung over it with it so that it dangled close to the carpet floor of the train. 
You stared at him long enough that he arched a thick dark eyebrow and you flinched. 
"Oh, yes.. yes of course!" You prayed that your cheeks weren't as red as you feared they might be as you nodded.
There was enough space inside the compartment, your suitcase was pushed under your seat and the bench across from you had been free, but you felt the need to look like you would make room for him.
Since there was nothing in the way, really, all you did was pull the bag next to you closer and kick away a piece of lint that stuck to the carpet. 
"Thank you," the man slipped inside, coat, bag, and another suitcase dangling from his long arms.
You tried to look busy and lifted your book high up to your face while he stowed his suitcase away, a sleek dark blue leather one that unlike yours had no stickers on it or clothes sticking out. Then he entangled the coat from the bag to hang it on the door before he turned and stared at you. 
"Can… can I help you?" you asked when he remained silently scrutinizing you.
His eyes were an icy hue of blue and you would have compared them to the snowy weather outside, cold and unmoving, if there weren't the slightest hints of nervousness in them. 
"I don't want to inconvenience you any further but" – he swallowed and lifted a hand to brush some hair away, revealing the faintest of blushes on his high cheekbones– "I fear that I can't stomach traveling backward very well. Would you mind switching places or I could sit beside-"
"It's fine!" you interrupted him. Just him standing there seemed to affect the man quite a bit, he was swaying even though there was no movement, and what harm would it cause you to switch places?
You quickly gathered your back, closing the book with your thumb in between to mark the page you had left on and smiled at him as you sat down on the other side. "It's no problem at all, I have no preferences where I like to sit."
The upholstery was chilly under you and your legs groaned as you moved them for those few steps for the first time in hours instead of just folding them over each other
The man sat down, mumbling a soft "Thank you". His legs were long enough to brush against yours before he angled them toward the window, his slender hands resting on his lap. 
Silence fell just like the snow, with the man growing as still as a statue, his eyes hefted outside the window, and you finding a comfortable position to get back to your book.
Despite your best efforts to concentrate on the poetry, your mind couldn't stop straying to the man.
He must be one of the first-class-traveler, you would have noticed him on your short walks through the train whenever you got bored or had grown restless. 
His hair stood out, worn long enough to brush past his shoulders and over the cream-knitted sweater he wore, and then there were his eyebrows, the only dark spot of color in a face that could have been cut out of marble. He certainly looked expensive. He made the impression of a man who owned his own – equally perfect – bust.
He suddenly turned his head, not by much but he caught you looking at him nonetheless. Like a deer in headlights, your mouth simply fell open in a forgotten lie to excuse yourself for staring.
Thankfully he didn't comment on it, instead, his rosé lips curved into a smile.
"I'm Thranduil, by the way. I think I should tell you so that you have a name to complain about the stranger who not only stormed into your compartment but took your seat as well" He held out his hand. 
You took it after a relieved breath. His fingers were cold, his grip firm.  "Nice to meet you Thranduil," you introduced yourself and noted how his fingers flitted over your racing pulse point at your wrist, "Don't worry, I'd be a fool to moan about having a conversation partner, you've done nothing but turn this boring journey interesting"
"Ah, but you haven't realized how awful I am at small talk. I make a dreadful conversationalist," he admitted with a laugh and let go of your hand.
"We could simply skip that part then," you offered boldly and finally closed your book in your lap. "Tell me, what stop did you get on?"
He arched an eyebrow at you and rested his elbows on the table between you, placing his chin on the intertwined fingers. "What? You want to know where I came from and not were I'm going?" 
You shook your head, "No, I'll see where you have to get off, this is much more interesting."
Thranduil looked at you for a moment, his eyes taking you in like he wanted to figure you out. Then he huffed, giving in. "I got on right at the first stop," –you smiled, encouraging him to continue talking, which he did, his lips twitching to a smirk– "I stayed in Laketown with a friend over the holidays, but I didn't want to impose on him any longer."
"So you brought this weather with you?" You grinned.
"Oh, one hundred percent," he said, sounding so serious that you nearly giggled, "I had so much fun shoveling snow every morning for ten days that I simply wanted to continue at home." Thranduil tipped his head to the side, examining you once again. "And you?"
"God no, I don't get to pick up any tools while I'm on vacation," you said, knowing full well that's not what the question was about.
"No?" 
"No," you sighed, "Try being the youngest at the family reunion. I'm glad my parents let me shower and dress myself. Gosh, I think they would've cried if I even thought about helping with the snow."
Amusement lit up his face, lifting all his sharp features. "Tell that to my friend's little one. She's a fierce thing; knocking at my door at sunrise all dressed up and threatening me with her shovel that I better be outside before she had to come again."
"Oh my! Say, whatever was she threatening to do instead?"
Thranduil chuckled and shook his head, "I didn't stay long enough in bed to find out." 
A knock sounded from the door, interrupting the conversation as an older woman opened your compartment. "Hiya, loves. May I offer you some tea? Dreadful weather outside and with the heating back there gone completely, we don't want ya to catch a cold," she said.
"Ye–"
"We'll take two cups," Thranduil's directive voice overshadowed yours, there was an authority in it that even you wouldn't want to cross. He was already pulling a fancy black wallet out of his pockets, which produced a fresh note that gave no room to argue or chip in. "Keep the change," he said while the train service employee shuffled inside and placed a tablet on the table between you.
"Thank you, Sir Oropherion!" She beamed at him and slipped the note through the buttons of her blouse, "You're always too kind!" Then she turned to you and lowered her voice in a faux-whisper: "He's just as handsome as he's single. But you didn't hear that from ol' me." 
Thranduil scoffed, though you could see a faint blush on his cheeks. "You are a horrible gossip, Hilda! Go bother some of the other passengers or they'll freeze to death."
A little bit louder and glaring toward Thranduil, she added: "A shame his attitude is like the weather; he could use a sweetheart like you.
With a last wink, she turned and left you to stare after her, wondering what just happened.
"Impossible, that woman." 
Thranduil's low rumble pulled you back to him, leaving that poor – now again shut – door alone before your eyes drilled a hole through the wood in search of an explanation.  
The man across from you didn't offer you one either, instead, he was reaching for one of the silver spoons that the woman, Hilda, had given to you as well as a cup filled with milk and a small tower of cookies. 
Somehow you had the feeling this wasn't what the other customers would get but rather a gesture of whatever fondness the woman pledged to the blonde, who used the tiny tongs to drop two cubes of sugar into his cup.
"So," you said and cleared your throat. Thranduil looked up, nearly killing you on the spot with the daggers in his eyes daring you to speak on the matter. Of course, who would you be if you shied away because of that? "She seemed lovely. A friend of yours?"
"No. No, she's not," Thranduil said. He pushed the other cub toward you, encouraging you to take from the all-paid-for beverage. 
You wrapped both hands around it, marveling how beautifully and frail the cup looked and felt, and after taking a small sip, you smiled benevolently and waited for Thranduil to continue. 
He rolled his eyes, admitting defeat in his thickheadedness of remaining aloof. "I travel this route to Laketown quite a lot. Once a month, sometimes two or three times, or whenever my schedule allows me to actually. That woman made it her personal mission to get on my last nerve; chatting to me and leaving me sweets and tea without me asking for it. After a while, I could at least get her to accept my money for it. She's keen on finding me my soulmate so I no longer travel this much alone."
"Aw, but that's cute," you said and drank another sip of the hot tea. You didn't know what burned more, the tea or Thranduil's hardened eyes, "What? She looks out for you; the journey is long and she just doesn't want to be lonely." 
"Whyever you feel the need to defend her is unfathomable," he scoffed as if you taking Hilda's side was the most outrageous thing he'd ever heard, "You don't even know if her accusations are true– if I'm lonely. Maybe I like traveling alone!" Thranduil placed the cup back onto the tray with such an energetic movement, that it clinked. His lips twitched.
"That…" you started and nodded toward the cup, "was far too defensive. Why, Thranduil, it's no shame to admit to something, especially not to a stranger." His expression was still unreadable though the sharp line of his jaw protruded even more like he was biting down on his teeth. You made sure to keep your tone lighthearted: "Dare I say this is even the perfect chance to get it off your chest? Who knows if we will see each other again. Time to spill all your deep, dark and dirty secrets."
He fixated you with his cold blue eyes. Your words had left an impression on him, that much was clear and you would even go so far to say he was considering them. 
Thranduil made a sound close to a "Humpf!" and you smiled and nodded, pushing him evidently over the edge for he rolled his eyes, clasped his hands together and leaned back into the cushions.
"Very well," he sighed though clicked his tongue as he saw your satisfied smirk, "You are right, traveling alone can–" lifting one finger, he punctuated the word "get a bit lonely. Not to say it's like that every time but I find that this conversation, despite the uncalled-for nosiness on behalf of my private life, makes it a lot more enjoyable than the hours I spent in the first class."
"Aww," you waved off in false modesty, "that's such a sweet way of saying I basically rescued you from a death of boredom."
"Bit of an overstatement"
"Okay, first-class, no need to knock my ego down like that." 
"Anyone ever tells you how cheeky you are?"
You smiled brightly, "All the poor, single, and handsome men I chat up on these travels."
Thranduil laughed out and shook his head more for himself than anything else. He extended his hand towards his cup once more, coinciding with the moment you brought your tea to your lips.
As your gazes met over the rising steam of porcelain, the black tea seemed to carry a subtle sweetness reminiscent of the shared smile between you, if only for a fleeting moment.
Or maybe it was the sugar, combined with the subtle loneliness that was your own travel companion nowadays, a constant bitterness coating your tongue. 
No matter what, another sip of tea flushed it down. 
"Now," Thranduil cleared his throat and dabbed the sleeve of his sweater at the corner of his mouth where a small drop of tea rested next to a shy smile. The tea disappeared – the smile stayed. "Do you want to tell me where you are going?" 
The answer was simple, you just had to tell him the name of your station, but you hesitated. 
This felt too good to be true, and maybe, if you disappeared without giving him any real information, there wouldn't be the urge to keep your eyes open when you arrived home, hoping he would be looking for that mystery woman he met on the train. 
Before the moment passed for far too long to be deemed anything but awkward, the train jolted. First, there was this one tug, then another one, and then, right when you looked up at Thranduil and understanding passed across his face like a ghost, appearing and disappearing right again, the wheels set in motion.
"Seems like we're off again," Thranduil said quietly, turning his face to the window.
He cleared his throat and you watched him swallow, not breaking away from the fuzziness outside that mirrored what you felt in your stomach right now. He was beautiful, even with that sadness settling heavy on his shoulders.
Why you couldn't just offer a piece of yourself now that he has given you some of him, that you didn't understand yourself because this trip had been the loveliest in a long time, the conversation quick and easy and nothing like the pestering questions about your romantic life that your brothers and your mother had poured over you, and while yes, you just met him, there was a connection between you. 
More than strangers on a train.
And you wanted it, so so much.
To have someone by your side wherever you go. 
"Thranduil–" you spoke so suddenly you not only startled Thranduil; the sound of your own voice frightened you as well.
"Yes?"
"This thing working again? Ah yes, now yer can hear me 'gain. Darn line cut off for a moment there. Next stop, Mirkwood Central Station, arriving in 'bout five minutes. We apologize for the delay 'n hope y'all get to your destination safely. To all those leavin' us: Remember to grab all your things before ya go. Hope to see y'all again real soon." 
The rest of the sentence died on your lips as you listened to the announcement. How they managed to be on time when you needed another delay, another moment to sort out your thoughts was an unwanted miracle.
Right when you wanted to panic and quickly pack up the book you hadn't opened up again, Thranduil got to it first.
"Five… five minutes?" he gasped and jumped out of his seat, knocking his long legs into the table resulting in you both reaching for the rattling cups trying to stop them from crashing down, hands brushing just enough for you to nearly smash the pot of sugar away as well.
"Wait. This is your stop?" 
Thranduil nodded, already throwing his coat on. "Yes, oh it's such a shame! I had hoped we had more time to finish our tea." He threw a sad glance at the half-empty cups; although the switch to look at you spoke of a far greater regret than simply leaving two cups of tea behind.
A laugh burst out of you, taking both of you by such surprise that you wondered if it had come off as discouraging or far worse: like you were making fun of him.
You hastened to explain: "This is my stop as well!" – the wide smile that shot to his eyes turned into a smirk – "This is me, Mirkwood Central. So if you want–" you interrupted yourself by standing up and grabbing your jacket, "we could get a tea later?"
"Yes!" Thranduil said quickly, "Yes, I would love to. Do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?" 
You copied his smile. "The rest of the evening? Bit eager, aren't we?" You were teasing, mostly, because that seemed to affect that glimmer of playfulness in Thranduil's eyes that made them look like molten silver, but you couldn't deny that you wouldn't have canceled all your plans if you'd had any to begin with, to stay in Thranduil's company. 
"I will gladly take every bit of time you can offer me," Thranduil said, "Any man would be this eager to get to know you."
You were still blushing when you stepped into the narrow corridor of the train, the tight space and crowding of passengers waiting to exit as well making it impossible to stand anywhere else but close together, Thranduils taller body a warm presence in your back and whenever you swayed his large hand found your shoulder to steady you and his amused chuckling reverberated in your stomach.
The train finally made its way into the bustling train station, the smoke of other trains clouding up the window and excitement like only arriving at a special destination could evoke in one filled the air inside the train, the hushed talking growing as other passengers saw relatives or friends or lovers waving to them, children pressing their faces against the glass or tried to run past you with their parents following close behind.
One particular stormy child knocked you straight into Thranduil as the doors opened and cold air greeted you while your face lightened up with a blush. 
"I hope I won't lose you," you said, jokingly but the air was stolen right out of your lungs as Thranduils gloved hand grabbed yours.
"Don't worry," he said and helped you step onto the metal platform, watching carefully as you hopped onto the platform. He looked beautiful in the evening lights of Mirkwood Station, white snowflakes landing gently on his long lashes. "I won't let that happen!"
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©itsonlydana 2024
162 notes · View notes
avastrasposts · 1 month
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Big Sky Country - ch. 1
Cowboy!Frankie x OFC
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Hi!
I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.
No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)
And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!
Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.
Series Master List
Main Master list
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Prologue
The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed. 
So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks. 
Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in. 
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He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears. 
He dropped his hand. 
Waited.
Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home. 
He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again. 
But she was here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here. 
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Chapter One
A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder. 
The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap. 
“You growing roots, old man?” 
The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger. 
The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar. 
“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes. 
“You coming or going, cowboy?” 
“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist. 
“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.” 
“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face. 
“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him. 
“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.” 
He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass, and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin, she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he couldn't help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him, checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb. 
“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him. 
“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.” 
“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses. 
Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat. 
“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.” 
“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip. 
She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who stepped in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble. 
This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends. 
As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seemed to carry more of a burden than most. 
“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass. 
“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek. 
“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over his face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She was temporarily mesmerized by how they bounced back around his ears as he squashed the cap back down. 
“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head. 
“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer. 
“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return. 
“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.” 
“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.” 
“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.” 
“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.” 
She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.” 
“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.” 
“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.” 
“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information. 
“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her. 
“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again. 
“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head. 
“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.”  She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down. 
Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke,  the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.  
She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him. 
“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it. 
“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?” 
“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans. 
She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile. 
“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?” 
Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter. 
“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?” 
“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.” 
“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed. 
“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”
“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet. 
“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.” 
Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged. 
“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.” 
“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.” 
“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head. 
“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.” 
Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was  trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries.
“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him. 
“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.” 
“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.” 
“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.” 
He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private. 
Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic. 
When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon. 
The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here. 
Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy. 
But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more. 
Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it. 
He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city. 
Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet. 
Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence. 
After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else. 
And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected. 
“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.” 
The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child. 
Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child. 
“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.” 
Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it. 
“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.” 
She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped. 
Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer. 
Chapter 2
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A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!
Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi
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bonefall · 1 year
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Better Bones AU: History Lesson
(A new, updated version of an old history lesson, with some new names and the hopes of being a better summary. Refer to this one over the old one!)
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[ID: Ferncloud from Warrior Cats is lecturing Lionkit, Jaykit, and Hollykit.]
Teaching history in the Clans became an important feature after the defeat of Ripplestar near the beginning of the Chivalric Period. While elders are seen as the chroniclers of history, a dedicated Educator takes on the role of making sure each litter learns everything they need to know.
During the Settlement Era, ThunderClan's educator Ferncloud teaches the kits of ThunderClan about glyphs, the basic tenets of the Warrior Code, and an overview of history.
As of the newest arc, there have been 5 Periods so far, with each period being broken down into 3 Eras and side stories. Those are;
ANCIENT PERIOD Dawn Era, Code Era, Skyfall Era
CHIVALRIC PERIOD Ripple Era, Crusade Era, Campaign Era.
THISTLE PERIOD Broken Era, Tiger Era, Fire Era
HOMING PERIOD Journey Era, Settlement Era, Eclipse Era
MODERN PERIOD Reunion Era, Reckoning Era, Current Day
In addition, there is also a Prehistoric Period, which is only remembered by Clan cats through the tales of LionClan, LeopardClan, and TigerClan. The truth is even stranger than the mythological animals they tell stories about.
See: Hollyleaf's Century.
Ancient Period (1920s - 1970s)
Dawn Era
Moth Flight's Vow
In the Dawn Era, the five ancient founders settled the Forest. From the North came the Clans, lead down from the mountains by Gray Wing the Wise. From the south came Warriors, following a king, Arc of the Park.
Gray Wing died in a fateful accident while saving his right-hand man, Shaded Flower. Clear Sky managed to keep the group together through his sheer strength, settling them into the forest. This all changed when a horrible accident caused the leg of Clear Sky's brother, Jagged Peak, to be permanently twisted.
His own brother and the leader of the Clan at the time, Clear Sky, cast him out. His pregnant mate, Bright Storm, protested this cruelty and tried to care for Jagged Peak all winter long. Her efforts were in vain as he starved to death, and the spirit of Gray Wing responded to this by sending her a hero and a sign;
Bright Storm's litter had one survivor, a ginger tabby named Thunder Storm, missing its leg in the same place where its uncle had lost his. They brought the child back to the group.
Refusing to learn his lesson, Clear Sky rejected the child just like he'd done to Jagged Peak. This time, many families did not abide the cruelty, headed by Tall Shadow. This caused the split between Sky's Clan and Shadow's Clan. Shadow's Clan came into constant conflict with the Wind Coalition, Thunder Storm broke off Thunder's Clan many years later after a great injustice, and he eventually struck up an alliance with the River Kingdom.
Rising political tension culminated in Sky's Clan taking the prince of the River Kingdom, River's Ripple, as a hostage. The First Battle broke out between all five groups at Fivetrees, a bloodbath with so much carnage that the bodies could not be buried in one day.
StarClan broke the battle with a flash of lightning, coming down from the heavens to offer each leader a revelation, and a reward. The reward being that each leader would get 9 lives to lead their Clans, and better understand the cats within them, as long as they gave a proper burial to each cat killed in the pointless fight.
The first two Commandments of the Warrior Code were made on this day-- the Law of the Land establishing borders, and the Law of Honor, which states that a true warrior does not need to kill in order to win their battles.
And thus ended the Dawn Era, and started the Code Era.
Code Era
Because this was before the Clans taught history, most of the Code Era is remembered in parables associated with the creation of Commandments 3 thru 8. It's also MUCH longer than most other Eras, with many of these parables being several generations apart.
The cats in them are so old and so storied that they are seen as deities in StarClan, prayed to and invoked by the living. Examples being Daisytail, Patron of Protection and Parenthood, and Redscar, Patron of Arbitration and Decision-Making.
Eventually, the third commandment, the Law of Loyalty, was made in response to the open love of Ryewhisker and Cloudberry. It banned interclan mateships and closed off the groups in a way unseen since the Dawn Era, and ignited the ancient tradition of Kitten Stealing.
Unknown to the living, in protest of such an evil law, Ryewhisker and Cloudberry willingly joined the Dark Forest. They are two of the oldest spirits there.
An accurate chronicle truly begins with the Skyfall Era.
Skyfall Era
Cars, brand new highways, and suburban expansion started to cut into the Forest as the humans entered a new era... not that the Clans knew why it was happening. Kittypets, associated with these humans, started to be seen more negatively than ever before.
This Era is named for, and defined by, the loss of SkyClan.
Commandment 9, the Law of the Wild, was made in response to SkyClan cats defecting to live as housecats; "A true warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet."
As their territory evaporated below their paws, SkyClan was blamed for everything out of their control. To this day, this era is framed as a cautionary tale to kittens, "What happens to a Clan when they stop living by the Code." In a famous final plea, SkyClan was turned away and exiled.
Their ancestors, 1/5th of StarClan, went with them... except for Skystar who remained in Silverpelt, revered as a Patron of Battle.
The Clerics of the four remaining clans protested the exile ferociously, banding together to go on strike until SkyClan was returned. To break it and bring their medics back under control, the Medicine Cat's Vow was codified into law.
Previously, it had been a personal vow between Clerics, one with no enforcement behind it. Not taking a mate or having kittens was to always keep medicine above Clan loyalty; but the code was enshrined to make a Cleric put Clan loyalty above all else. A corrupted vow. Dalestar of WindClan smeared his Cleric, Larkstripe, as a hypocrite and sent her kitten away.
See: Larkstripe
And thus ended the strike, and the Ancient Period, as the following Chivalric Period began.
Chivalric Period (1970s - Late 1990s)
Ripple Era
Ripplestar's Rot
Larkstripe's kitten was raised at Birdsong's belly in ShadowClan, the adopted brother of Gorseclaw and Spottedpelt. Ripplemoon understood it was a great injustice that SkyClan had been exiled, and vowed to make room for his siblings' father and Clan to return home.
Meanwhile, the 5th Oak at Fivetrees was beginning to rot. The Ripple Era was named for this time of tumult, ending with a crash as Ripplestar's war came to a bloody halt.
After the death of the 5th Oak, Fivetrees becomes Fourtrees, widely considered a sign that a Clan that cannot keep its borders does not deserve to have them. THREE new laws were added to the Warrior Code, all of them related to making cats more loyal.
The Full Moon Truce, ruling that cats were not to fight or argue at gatherings
The First Tasks, a set of pre-existing traditions now codified, that all apprentices had to complete upon becoming warriors
The Leader's Rights... to not be disobeyed.
The Clan Pride Tide that followed ignited war and chaos, considered to be the 'chivalric ideal' of Clan society. The battles were glorious, and never before were cats so honorable and ferocious. Punishments were harsh and severe... such as the one for a certain mother who took a halfclan mate, and was given 3 ill-fated kittens by StarClan.
And this punishment truly ended the Ripple Era, and lead to the Crusade Era.
Crusade Era
Darkstar's Commandment
Pinestar's Crusade
When a false sign from StarClan was misinterpreted by the Cleric of ThunderClan (unknown to all: Birchface was a rogue StarClan warrior who sent it), Oakstar ferociously exiled Mapleshade and her three kittens in the midst of a storm. With nowhere to go, she tried to bring her children across the river to their father's Clan. They did not survive.
Darkstar refused to even allow her to bury the kittens in RiverClan. Mapleshade exacted her revenge, taking out 3 cats before being taken out herself. Furious at the injustice and murder, StarClan damned every cat involved, and gave Darkstar and Oakstar a command; to NEVER let this happen ever again.
Darkstar created Darkstar's Commandment, that all kittens were to be protected regardless of origin, and no one would be compelled to reveal the other parent of their kittens. This is known as the Queen's Rights.
See: Queen's Rights
Oakstar opposed this change at first, until he was beaten by Darkstar and forced to accept this new law. Fearing that StarClan would be furious with him, he attempted to please them by starting crusades against the cats of Chelford.
These Crusades lead to the creation of BloodClan, to defend Chelford cats against Clan invasion. From this point it evolved into a system of governance unique to itself.
See: Brief BloodClan Guide
WindClan and ShadowClan joined in on these raids for several years, with only RiverClan abstaining. Between the cats of the forest there was an era of odd 'peace' as they had new targets to battle for honor... until Heatherstar took power.
The Campaign Era reignited inter-Clan hostility.
Campaign Era
Tallstar's Collapse
Brokenstar's Cataclysm
Stormpaw's Demon
Bluestar's Flowers
Heatherstar of WindClan flexed her ambition by launching a campaign to take the Mothermouth Moorland from ShadowClan, setting off a cascade of renewed inter-Clan hostility. It caused ShadowClan to hold territory from ThunderClan, ThunderClan to re-take Sunningrocks, and RiverClan to assert control over the Gorge, causing periodic four-way fights between them in ways unseen since the Ripple Era.
WindClan lost the tradition of tunneling in this Era; as it isn't useful for the total war that Heatherstar needed to take such a huge chunk of territory.
In the later half of this Era, a group of young cross-Clan friends started to meet in secret. Bluemoon of ThunderClan, Hoprunner and Ashfoot of WindClan, Lizardstripe of ShadowClan, Oakheart of RiverClan, and Barley Senior of BloodClan.
They called themselves the Forget-Me-Nots, and it was the beginning of the ideology known as Fire Alone. Bluemoon's love of her friends, and the loss of her family in pointless battles, made her realize that something needed to change.
And yet, this era gave birth to something much more rotten. As the Clans hardened and started to see the more brutal parts of the code as fundamentally opposed to its softer laws, the tenets that would found Thistle Law began to form.
See: Thistle Law
Named for a painful lesson that Thistleclaw taught his apprentice, Bluestar's rise to power stalled its implementation for a few more safe years. It was the ironic negotiation of a Peace Deal to end the Mothermouth Moorland war which ended the Chivalric Period, and birthed the Thistle Period.
Thistle Period (Late 1990's - 2008)
Broken Era
Spottedleaf's Plague
After generations of fighting, Raggedstar of ShadowClan was old, tired, and wanted only to see peace for his last years of life. He went to end the war and stop fighting for the Mothermouth Moorland which had been contested for so long.
His son and deputy, Brokentail, killed him before he had the chance.
The rise of Brokenstar was the first true implementation of Thistle Law. His followers believed that the only way to truly win a war was to destroy the opposition-- completely. As Heatherstar had done before by sacrificing tunneling, Brokenstar, too, was prepared to make sacrifices.
In just a few short years using brutal tactics like poison claws, traps, and apprentice-targeting, ShadowClan had shredded WindClan's numbers. The final bloody event in this eradication was the WindClan Massacre, a full assault on their camp, and ShadowClan had even broken the code by bringing inexperienced warriors to battle. Casting out a full Clan was considered evil and barbaric.
Rebels formed in this time, but without help, they would have stood no chance against the popular Brokenstar.
It was Bluestar of ThunderClan and her young champion, an ex-kittypet called Firepaw, who agreed to lend their aid. Guided by the words of a prophecy, "Fire Alone Will Save The Clans," Bluestar instilled in her apprentice a new way of seeing the world.
With Brokenstar deposed, Bluestar sent her champion again to fetch WindClan. They gave ShadowClan space to recover, defended the weakened WindClan against River and Shadow, and even accepted a blinded Brokenstar out of mercy. At all turns, Bluestar embodied justice and chivalry...
Or so the ThunderClan history lessons say. Others like to put more emphasis on the growing darkness behind Tigerclaw.
Tiger Era
Tigerstar's Paws
It officially began when Tigerstar took power in ShadowClan. TigerClan lasted for only six horrible moons and defines the shortest era in the history lessons, but its story is told with horror and hushed tones.
Dozens of cats died, in raids and in executions. Prey was stolen from other territories and slaughtered en-mass to build a ridiculous, reeking monument of bones. There wasn't even enough to build a solid hill, so Tigerstar demanded they create a pointless facade over mud just for his ego.
But all of this was still not enough for him, and he contacted BloodClan to negotiate the Impossible Deal. They would have half of the Forest, if they helped him kill his enemies. Scourge did not trust Clan cats, but against his better judgement, as if the heavens were whispering in his ear... he agreed.
The Era came to a crashing halt when Tigerstar attacked his ally and Scourge famously opened him up in two hits. A very special song was made about this moment; Tiger's In A Heap.
Fire Era
Cinderpelt's Solution
Firestar's Quietus
The Tiger in RiverClan
Tigerstar had made a deal, and Scourge intended for it to be upheld. Half of the forest was rightfully his, and he would evict any Clan cats who he found living on it, tired of their dishonorable ways. He gave them three days to clear out.
Firestar was able to convince the four Clans to unite as one to defend against this threat, but he had a revelation. Scourge wasn't wrong. Clan cats had acted dishonorably with him, making promises they didn't intend to keep, attacking him when he didn't obey like a minion. In spite of being Bluestar's champion and successor, Firestar himself had been treated as if he was lesser, just for his birth.
To Scourge, and to Rusty, the Clans HAD been dishonorable. The Code ended at the border and treated outsiders as less-than-cats.
When the battle with BloodClan began, Firestar and Scourge faced off. The battle was legendary. In a fateful move, Firestar slammed the leader of BloodClan to the ground, and ripped his collar clean off. "A true warrior does not need to kill to win their battles."
Calling for a retreat with his life, Scourge left his collar behind on the battlefield. Firestar returned it, and opened up new negotiations with the humbled leader. "We have won our right to the forest, but speak to me; how much of Tigerstar's impossible deal can we honor for you?"
The answer was so simple as to be ridiculous. They wanted materials like wood, nice-smelling flowers, and new kinds of food. Things that they couldn't find in the dumpsters and gray pavement of twolegplace, and BloodClan could offer materials of their own to trade.
The Fire Era allowed the Thistle Period to have a brief, but sweet time of peace. This time of cooperation ended in a horrible ball of chaos, as the forest was destroyed by man and the cats had to go on a long journey.
Homing Period (2007 - 2018)
Journey Era
As the forest was destroyed, the Clans sought guidance from StarClan. The Clerics went to the Mothermouth, as was expected in those days. Cinderpelt, Littlecloud and Cinderpelt's apprentice Leafstripe were slightly late, as usual, taking their time getting there to have their bi-weekly chat.
When they arrived, they found Mothwing frantically digging at a collapsed rockfall. If they hadn't been late, they too would have died. Mudfur and Barkface were dead. The remaining Clerics dug until their claws were bloody, then fell asleep where they stood.
Leafstripe of ThunderClan received a prophecy. Four chosen cats must follow the Brightest Star, and find them a new home. These four cats were sent by each Clan; Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, Feathertail, and Crowfoot. Squirrelpaw and Stormfur joined them, without permission.
As they went on a quest that would come to be known as the Sundrown Patrol, the four Clans suffered through many hardships. ThunderClan was forced out of its camp, WindClan was poisoned and ensnared, RiverClan pushed for Sunningrocks as the river dried up, and ShadowClan's marshland was filled in.
After the patrol returned to free several cats who had been trapped by humans, the Clans left hastily to begin the Great Journey.
Something changed on that trip together. For the first time ever, the four Clans had to rely on each other, and see things the way they could be. The apprentices and kits in particular walked away with a unique mindset about cooperation, summed up with a special dish they created together known as Paw Soup.
But of course, it did not last. On reaching the lake and discovering the Moonpool, Leafstripe received three new prophecies.
"Blood will spill blood and the lake will run red."
"Fire and tiger will clash and burn together into ash"
"The first of the lake will guide WindClan."
Her name was changed to Leafpool, an honor title to reflect her powerful seeing abilities.
After the death of Tallstar and the hasty rise of Onewhisker to power, Mudclaw decided that this prophecy must mean that the first cat to see the lake after the Great Journey would lead WindClan. Since he lead the first patrol here, he was especially convinced that it meant him.
(Unknown to him, it was referring to his child, Kestrelflight, who would be the first kitten born at the lake. Shortly followed by his brothers Harestar and Owlclaw, Hare and Kestrel were given to Mudclaw's brother Torear shortly after their birth while Whitewater kept Owl.)
Mudclaw's Rebellion spiraled into a conflict involving cats of all Clans, lead in by Hawkfrost. After a failed assassination attempt on Onewhisker's life, StarClan was so furious at Mudclaw's insolence that they smote him with a falling tree.
When this failed, Hawkfrost became desperate, getting three Tribe cats temporarily cast out of RiverClan, and attempting to kill Firestar to put Brambleclaw into leadership. When Brambleclaw hesitated, Mothwing sprang out of a bush to rescue the leader, and Brambleclaw fought his brother. But, he was unable to land the fatal blow, and Hawkfrost lunged for his sister... only to impale himself on the stake she was holding.
As the lake ran red with tiger blood, Brambleclaw stepped down from his deputyship, and Brackenfur took power. Mothwing returned with the body of her brother, but her troubles were not yet over. The cats of RiverClan who had participated in WindClan's rebellion didn't believe it was an accident, and Leopardstar did nothing about these accusations.
Mistyfoot realized that something had to be done. Hawkfrost was a victim as much as he was a perpetrator, and these ideas had to be pulled up at the root.
Every Clan has a different moment for where the Journey Era ended. ShadowClan believes it's when they arrived in their new home. WindClan thinks the death of Mudclaw feels right. ThunderClan sees it as the appointment of Brackenfur as deputy. RiverClan marks it at the sudden death of Leopardstar to a rogue, bludgeoned to death on a rock.
Homing Era
An unprecedented time of peace, never seen before, nor since. These days have come to be seen as halcyon, divided up into 'episodes' of conflict and interesting tales.
Some of these episodes are,
The Shinewater Plague
When a twoleg truck veered off a thunderpath and spilled gallons of shining poison into RiverClan territory, Mistystar had to decide what kind of leader she wanted to be. In this instance, she accepted help in spite of what some of the harsher cats of her Clan demanded.
ShadowClan's Lichen Rebog Project
Arriving at the lake was hard for ShadowClan, as the rivers in their territory were deep and their land was largely useless pines. Blackstar commanded an ambitious terraforming project, blocking up the rivers and controlling the flooding to turn their land into a marsh. ThunderClan offered their help, as usual.
Ripwater's Devastation
A giant, monstrous fish lurked in the depths of the lake, sucking down a RiverClan apprentice into the abyss and making fishing dangerous for any cat going for a swim. Ripwater needed to be dealt with, but RiverClan had never killed something as large as a boar, let alone larger.
Salt Patrol
This was the first time that the Clans had regular access to gathering their own salt, an important medicine for treating infection and parasites. There were times that apprentices of all Clans would converge, by coincidence, for a beach episode.
The Tribe's Rogues
Taken aback by the fact the Tribe cats ask for help even when they have a choice, Clan cats grapple with what this says about their own upbringings.
See: The expanded notes on how the Tribe visit has been completely reduxed to fix its problematic elements.
The Three, who would come to be known in story and legend, grew up in this period, exploring themselves, their friends, and the culture around them.
This time of kindness came to a tragic end in the Battle of the False Eclipse, and the Cruel Season that followed it.
Angered by ThunderClan's meddling in their affairs, WindClan and RiverClan attacked them and pulled all the Clans into a lake-wide brawl that was only ended by a flash of darkness. Sol showed them a taste of what was to come just a few years later, when the planes of reality would collide.
The Dark Forest had been making its moves and sewing seeds of discord within disgruntled cats of the Clans, involving them in a plan to snatch godhood from the stars. Their first major move was the 'accidental' killing of Brackenfur in the Battle of the False Eclipse, and the fire in ThunderClan that came later, as cover for killing Firestar.
And so, Bramblestar ascended to power with Squilf as his first deputy, Thornclaw as the second after Hollyleaf spilled a secret, and the young prodigy vanished into the tunnels for many years. A third cat of great prophecy was born to her brother.
See: Hollyleaf, just, this whole post
Eclipse Era
Uniting a group of cats with almost nothing in common, Tigerstar planned to usurp StarClan and become the new deities of the four Clans. He relied heavily on his son, Hawkfrost, to be his diplomat and keep the unstable alliance together just long enough to accomplish his goals.
Lionblaze and Jayfeather learned there was a plot, but didn't know how to infiltrate it. Lionblaze sent his daughter, Ivypool, in to spy on the demons and their schemes. Hawkfrost became her Dark Forest mentor.
The Dark Forest plan: replace every cat in power with a trainee before the night of the True Eclipse, to make their takeover easier. Simple enough. Harder was coordinating a bunch of trainees with completely different motivations.
See: Motivations of Dark Forest trainees
Firestar and Brackenfur were first. Sedgecreek and Mistystar, Ashfoot and Onestar, Russetfur and Blackstar were next.
The Dark Forest succeeded in pitting ThunderClan and ShadowClan against each other, thanks to deputy Thornclaw's influence. After the death of Russetfur, Blackstar was absolutely devastated and prone to Sol's influence. This was ShadowClan's first collapse, but unfortunately, not its last.
Redwillow, Ratscar, and Applefur took power of the Clan in his absence, and leas to bloody infighting as they tried to hold onto it. It was Rowanclaw rallying Blackstar's family to remind him of how loved he was that brought him back around, calling forth enough manpower to overthrow the trainees and take ShadowClan back.
Just before the Eclipse was about to commence, Hollyleaf returned just in time to fight for her family.
Thanks to the information of cats like Ivypool, the Clans were able to prepare for the Night of the True Eclipse. Unfortunately, the days of the Homing Era were gone, and they had a hard time uniting as a front. While ShadowClan and ThunderClan were able to rally and limit their losses, WindClan and RiverClan remained individual targets.
Dovewing lead a coalition of cats to counter the Dark Forest wherever they attacked, her father Lionblaze trailing just behind. Jayfeather used his powers to summon cats from StarClan itself, using a stick stolen from Rock to resurrect a tree and pull down as many angels as could fit on its branches.
Though outnumbered and losing, Tigerstar had vowed to go out in a blaze of glory. Scourge under his left claws and Blackstar bleeding out a life to the right, Firestar himself came in to settle the score with his old foe.
Modern Period (2018 - Today)
Reunion Era
ThunderClan's Tempest
Heartstar's Rise
Following the terrible carnage of the Great Battle, a grand storm blew through the lake and brought flooding unlike anything ever seen before. In the aftermath, many of ShadowClan's carefully managed projects took a beating.
The other Clans were reluctant to lend their aid, in contrast to the peace and cooperation of the Homing Era. Frustrated by ShadowClan's first collapse and the lack of help they were receiving now, the youngest generation was desperate for radical change. Many of the dejected cats around the lake agreed, Dark Forest trainees, halfclan cats and lovers, codebreakers, and so on.
They were co-opted by a terrible actor. Darktail had infiltrated SkyClan, many miles away, and exploited their internal divisions. Sharpclaw, Rockshade, and cats like them joined his cause, and SkyClan had fled in the chaos. He offered his help to the struggling ShadowClan, and any Clan cats seeking a safe haven. Breezepelt and his fellow ex-trainees were some of them.
"Nevermind your borders and your battles and your bloodlines," Darktail announced, "We will all be the Kin." Slowly, each of these things he spoke against became central to his movement.
WindClan, lead by Onestar, reacted severely. He put a complete embargo on any Clan lending aid, even denying them medicine during a terrible outbreak of Yellowcough. When ShadowClan fell apart, the Kin absorbed it completely and became an unstoppable force.
Heathertail couldn't handle the horrible cruelty of her father, and joined them hoping to get her half-brother's side of the story.
This was when The Kin started expanding, targeting their neighbors for territory. It was only through the return of SkyClan that the cult was able to be defeated, and because of their role in the final confrontation, it was agreed they had a claim to the Lake.
In memory of the conflict, and with respect to the destroyed ShadowClan, a new commandment was added to the code. The Law of the Lake demands that in times of stress, no Clan may allow another to falter and disband.
Rowanstar intended to live the last of his days in shame, having watched Dawnpelt die, his Clan disband, and Tigerheart vanish. Tigerheart returned only to die in a horrible accident, and Rowan refused to watch his last child be taken from him.
Drowning away his lives in the Moonpool so Heartstar could rise, the Era ends with the resurrection of ShadowClan.
Reckoning Era
Squirrelflight's Horror
Tawnypelt's Mountain
Ferncloud's Parting
SkyClan joining the lake and ShadowClan reforming caused struggles for territory. It was already a tight squeeze for ShadowClan before they joined, and accommodating an extra Clan would require careful diplomacy.
Unfortunately, Bramblestar had other plans. It got into his head that his deputy, Squirrelflight, was undermining him and he played a pointless game with his power. Joining Heartstar in an ill-fated invasion on a nomadic group, ThunderClan lost the respected senior Cleric and discoverer of the Moonpool, Leafpool.
But in those days, there was nothing that could be done about a bad leader besides violent revolution. Any telling of this era of history starts with these events, to establish why ThunderClan did not quickly realize their leader had been replaced by an Impostor only a few moons later, and why they didn't immediately do anything about it.
This impostor's first action was to announce his plans at a peaceful gathering. While losing a life, StarClan had told him they were disappointed and furious at the lack of a reckoning for the cats who had been disloyal in the previous two eras. HalfClan cats, insurgents, and other Codebreakers must be punished and brought in line, to return the Clans to a better time.
Most leaders agreed with this sentiment, and loosely implemented tests of loyalty. It wasn't enough for the Imposter, who was particularly insulted by Bristlefrost codebreaking within his own Clan to see Rootspring of SkyClan.
So at the next gathering, he called together the five Clans, implored them one more time to truly punish their Codebreakers or else StarClan would never come back, and finished his speech by ripping open Bristlefrost's neck.
Over the screams of the crowd, the full, uncovered moon shined bright. He pointed up with his bloodied paw, citing its light as StarClan's approval.
It wasn't the first time an unblemished moon meant cruelty, and SkyClan refused to be part of this evil game. Conflict escalated into a full-blown civil war, leading to scores of dead cats, and the eventual cornering of the Impostor.
When he escaped into the Dark Forest with the ghosts of the fallen kept hostage, Squirrelflight organized a final push to free those who were trapped. These cats came to be known as Lights in the Mist:
Harelight (then called Harefur) and Mistystar of RiverClan
Ivypool and Ferncloud of ThunderClan
Rootspring and MacGyver of SkyClan
Shadowsight and Flowerscar of ShadowClan
Breezepelt and Leaftail of WindClan... after Breezepelt conked Crowfeather over the noggin to forcefully take his spot.
(Exact cats liable to change, particularly MacGyver, Flowerscar, and Leaftail)
In the final confrontation, Ashfur revealed his special powers, having killed and absorbed the ancient spirit Clear Sky as well as several other demons and angels. He was too powerful to defeat, in spite of the combined efforts of the Dark Forest, StarClan, and the Lights in the Mist. In a final, grand effort, Shadowsight used a lightning bolt coursing through his veins to hold the monster down, and Bristlefrost sacrificed her life and eternity knocking Ashfur out of the sky like a falling star.
They crashed to Earth as a pair of asteroids, leaving a crater that became a small pool on SkyClan's border.
This fight destroyed a region of StarClan, an in-between area known as the Meadow of Young Stars. Now a shattered plain unable to separate the Place of No Stars from Silverpelt, A guard defends the single unstable bridge between the lands.
See: StarClan 101
~Current Day~
Ferncloud died tragically after confronting her brother on that fateful mission, and ThunderClan mourns its educator. In respect and heartbreak, its elders have hesitated in choosing a new cat for this role.
With two Eras behind them, the Clans have been loosely speculating what the new name for this Period will become, what its theme will be. There's no way to know until it happens... and it's not as if all the Clans agree on where exactly the times begin and end.
In the meanwhile, a new commandment has been added to the code. It's called Bristlefrost's Law, and for the first time, there is now an official system for changing Clans to be with a mate or a partner. Not all like this change-- some call these cats 'Turnclaws,' and didn't think there was a problem with the way things were.
Bramblestar has been tired since his ordeal, and ThunderClan is hoping he will step down soon. Mistystar has also been slow and aching, but her son Reedwhisker is a fine deputy, and he will make a fine leader as well.
The Clans have gone through a hard time, but there seems to finally be a light at the end of the- oh hey what's Splashtail up to
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sugawhaaa · 9 days
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YEOSANG FANFIC
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Dead city::chapter 1
✩°。⋆⸜₊˚⊹Opened wound
Warnings:: being chained (?) Yeosang gets mad really quickly and yells a lot
Genre:: angst, slow burn,
Synopsis::when on a trip to an abandoned city to take photos you come across a strange man tied in mountains of chains. After conversing with him you become empathic and want to help this man.
A/N::this is my first time writing smth kind of angsty, not like a love story. Yeosang is just a random man and your just a random girl/person (it's never said the gender but it's implied a few times that it's a woman)
Story note!! This is a mixture of the halateez lore and my own ideas. It's not really a lovers type of thing yet it's just an imaginative story :3
An abandoned and decaying wasteland of a city surrounded you. The only thing you could see for miles was a gray sky and desolate buildings. You held your camera up, snapping photos of these abandoned buildings and old materials around. You then stumbled upon a hat, a fedora. It was in rather good condition in comparison to the dead city. You take a photo of it and squat down to get the perfect shot of it. You stand up and look at the clear image on your camera.
You continue to walk through the city as you look through the images on your camera before stumbling upon a strange building. There was a clear pathway to walk up to it so you decided to follow it. As you walk along the path you look around the city. Abandoned houses with the curtains still blowing in the wind, broken glass from the window. What appeared to be a gas station with wires hanging in the window, the white walls stained with dirt.
You finally got to the entryway of the strange building and after looking at it for a while you realized it was an old stadium. You climbed up the steps cautiously as you held your camera that was around your neck. Once you entered the stadium there was a blank area in the center, a large oval shape with thousands of seats surrounding it. You turned on your camera again and snapped a few shots. As you did so you couldn't help but sense someone's presence. You look around the abandoned stadium before turning back to your exploration.
As you climbed up the rows of seats you heard a strange sound. The sound of metal being dragged on the ground. You turn to look all around you but the sound stops. You tread carefully over to where you heard the sound. The sounds started again and you concluded that it was the sound of someone dragging chains on the ground. You turn one of the corners to see a man.
He was dressed in dark blacks and browns. His clothes ripped and his hair was damp. Your jaw drops in shock and horror as you see the chains wrapped around his body. On each of his hands was a thick metal clasp with thousands of chains on each clamp. He had two massive chains wrapped around either side of his chest creating an X shape. His ankles didn't have nearly as many chains, about three on each ankle.
You look up from the chains to his eyes. They're full of cold rage. He looks like a beast that's about to pounce at any moment. You don't know what to say to him. You'd never seen anyone in a situation like this before.
"C-Can I…" you try to come up with something to say but he just continues to analyze you in disgust. His eyes then land on the badge on your chest. He steps back and grits his teeth, his fists clenched. "I'm not here to hurt you," you warn him, extending a hand out to him before stopping. He steps back again and gets into a defensive position. He grunts in response, hearing your words but not trusting them. "I'm just a photographer," you explain as you hold up your camera with one hand. His eyes dart over to the camera then back to your face.
He continues to judge you, whether to think of you as prey or predator. "Do you have a name?" You ask before setting your camera down. The man turns his head confused as he glares at you.
"Yeosang," he states in one clean tone. He then slowly sits down, landing in a puddle of water from the constant rain in the gloomy city. Your expression softens as you squat down to his level.
"Yeosang," you repeat, trying the name on your own tongue. "How long have you been here, Yeosang?" You ask as you keep a good distance from him.
"Months…maybe years," he explains with hesitation in his voice. It seemed like he hadn't talked to someone in a while. It was like he had to think of how to make the words come out of his mouth. Your face contorts in confusion.
"If you've lived for so long all chained up you must be receiving help of sorts," you think to yourself and Yeosang doesn't speak. "Someone has to be giving you food and water or something," you look up at him, awaiting his response. He turns his head with a grunt.
"I hate…them," he says with weakened eyes. You move closer to him to comfort him but he just jumps back, kicking up his knee to his chest as he sits on the cold concrete.
"Sorry," you sigh before looking up at him again. "Who are they?" You ask genuinely and he takes a deep breath.
"Government," he replies with anger. "Government is all I know," he says with a slight shake to his voice. He seems to be frustrated with the amount of words he can say. He needs to tell you more but he can't. He hisses under his breath and grabs a fist full of his chains.
"That's okay, that's a good start," you reply, nodding your head. "Do you know why you're here?" You ask another question. He seems triggered by the question. It seemed you were poking at a mental scar that hadn't fully healed yet. He just grunted and turned away from your gaze.
"Hala," he replies coldly. Your eyes widen at his words. Hearts awaken, live alive. It was the quota of an underground organization that strived to overthrow the government.
You look at him surprised and his shell instantly hardens again. "Go away," he growls as he sees the hesitation in your eyes. "If you don't like Hala, leave," he hisses. "I don't want your help!" He stands back up again and you jump back in fear. He looks down at your expression, your eyes shaking and your body low to the ground, crying for help. Yeosang instantly softens again. You reminded him of his younger self, in a similar position, crying to the ground. His breaths increase and he turns away from you. His chains rattled as he moved.
You sit there, trying to process everything. You grab your camera and make sure it's unharmed.
"Were you part of Hala?" You ask softly as you hold the camera to your chest. You watch Yeosangs back rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.
"I am a part of Hala," he corrects you. He didn't want to think of Hala as something of the past. They were still living, he would find his members, they'd win in the end.
"Right," you nod your head and keep a safe distance from him. You watch as he sighs, his body relaxing. "Are you hurt?" You ask, nothing red marks on his bare arms and back.
"No," he responds quickly and you sigh. You know he's lying but you can't just hold him down as you inspect his wounds.
"Do you want to be…free?" You ask. It seemed like a pretty obvious question. Of course he wanted to be free. He was chained up for so long he forgot how to speak and interact with humans. But deep down you know he's thinking something else as well.
"I…" he pauses before turning back to look at you, sitting in front of you again as the two of you talk. "I want to get out of these," he holds up his chains. "I want to see my family again," he explains, referring to Halateez. "But, I don't know where to begin. If I get out, where do I go?" He looks down at the concrete beneath the two of you.
You nod as you listen to him. He definitely needed to vent a lot. He hadn't seen a human in potentially years and the mental toll this whole situation would've taken on him. He has been chained up, forced to watch the city of life in the distance while starved and alone."What would I eat? Who would I talk to? When you asked if I wanted to be free, you were talking about my chains. I don't want to just be free of these, I want to be free of this world. I want to escape," he explains with a determined look. You nod, understanding his predicament.
"I have only one more question," you look up at him with sympathy. He node gently, telling you to continue. "What did you do to get caught? How did it all happen?" You ask. You know you're pushing boundaries a little but you really wanted and frankly needed to know. He turns to look away from you again.
"It's complicated. Hala had enough of the government and started a serious rebellious act. We hacked into the government's programs, ambushed them, broke thousands to millions of laws and it started working. People started second-guessing the government and we were heading in the right direction. One kid escaped from one of the schools that the government-owned but once they found out he had left because of our influence, they went crazy," he begins to tell his story, your eyes watching him as he explains it. "Groups of officials were on our case before capturing us one by one. The first time one of the members of Hala was captured we promised him we'd come back for him," Yeosang then sighed looking up at the sky. "But he still waits for us," Yeosang then clenches his jaw and looks in the distance to the city. "He's so close. Right there. Tied up in cords in a lab but he's alive," Yeosangs eyes fill with rage and determination.
You have to sit and think for a moment, processing his story. "I know you don't understand but I need him. I need to fulfill my promise," Yeosang stood up, his back turned to you. You watch as he stares often in the distant city of life. You sigh. You want to free him but he was a criminal and you were a goody two-shoes who always followed commands without question but lately, you've been second-guessing the government and its system.
"I want to free you…I really do but I don't even know where to start and…I could die if I set you free and then go back to the city," you explain sincerely. He sighs as you stand to your feet again. "But I'll be back tomorrow. I need to know more," you explain as you walk to stand in front of him. "I'll be back," you smile and he huffs, turning his head.
"It makes no difference to me," he turns back to hide in the shadows. He sits in his pile of chains as he watches you walk off. You become one with the fog as you run back to your house. Once you're out of his view he yells and hits the bleachers next to him. He was so close to escape but so far.
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ambi-kiko · 7 months
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tma music tma music tma music
please reblog with your own! i need it (:
also im more than willing to elaborate on any of em, just ask! (i have much to yell about)
for bitchard, we have:
kiss me, son of god (they might be giants)
i'm gonna win (rob cantor)
blood & money (the orion experience, orion, linda XO)
ruler of everything (tally hall)
BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA (will wood)
community gardens (the scary jokes, louie zong)
the main character (will wood)
your body, my temple (will wood)
laplace's angel (hurt people? hurt people!) (will wood)
saint bernard (lincoln)
welcome to the internet (bo burnham)
all eyes on me (or3o)
my ordinary life (the living tombstone)
cabinet man (lemon demon)
peter x elias (for my frenchies out there <33)
marine marchande (les cowboys fringants)
ok dont judge me too much i had to have smth for them ((: plus its not that unrelated
next! martin
a better son/daughter (rilo kiley)
12 feet deep (the front bottoms)
things to do (alex g)
be nice to me (the front bottoms)
step on me (the cardigans)
heart for brains (roar)
mama (my chemical romance)
summer child (conan gray)
hello my old heart (the oh hellos)
i cant handle change (roar)
against the kitchen floor (will wood)
least favorite only child (leanna firestone)
sharpener (cavetown)
empty bed (cavetown)
life's a beach (bears in trees)
jmart ((:
no children (the mountain goats)
the moon will sing (the crane wives)
euthanasia (will wood)
as the world caves in (matt maltese)
the truth (the front bottoms)
balade à toronto (jean leloup)
doctor (jack stauber)
apocalypse (cigarettes after sex)
talk to you (ricky Montgomery)
cabo (ricky montgomery)
meteor shower (cavetown)
juliet (cavetown)
feel better (penelope scott)
would you be so kind (dodie)
two birds (regina spektor)
line without a hook (ricky Montgomery)
and jon, ofc <3 i rly dont have enough for him ):
body terror song (AJJ)
downhill (Lincoln)
montreal (penelope scott)
ramblings of a lunatic (bears in trees)
its called: freefall (rainbow kitten surprise)
chin music for the unsuspecting hero (foster the people)
love, me normally (will wood)
dinner is not over (jack stauber's micropop)
also melanie! dont have that many but she deserves the mention (:
saturn suv (fredo disco)
brave as a noun (AJJ)
tongues & teeth (the crane wives)
wreaking ball (mother mother)
we fell in love in october (girl in red)
and just random songs with tma vibes (other characters, ships, dread powers, etc)
underground (cody fry)
hand me my shovel, i'm going in! (will wood)
terry's taxidermy (teddy hyde)
cotard's solution (will wood and the tapeworms)
amnesia was her name (lemon demon)
memento mori: the most important thing in life is death (will wood)
skeleton appreciation day in vestal, n.y. (will wood)
icicles (the scary jokes)
puppet boy (devo)
oh ana (mother mother)
i dont smoke (mitski)
choke (I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME)
thermodynamic lawyer esq, G.F.D (will wood and the tapeworms)
sorry haha i fell asleep (egg)
despair (leo)
stuff is way (they might be giants)
baby teeth (baby bugs)
king park (la dispute)
i/me/myself (will wood)
dr. sunshine is dead (will wood and the tapeworms)
amygdala's rag doll (ghost and pals)
little pistol (mother mother)
burning pile (mother mother)
this is home (cavetown)
body (mother mother)
turn the lights off (tally hall)
like real people do (hozier)
im going insane
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yesterdays-xkcd · 8 months
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Scientists are also sexy, let's not forget that.
Beliefs [Explained]
Transcript Under the Cut
[A girl with long black hair and a professor who looks like Megan stand together. The girl points to Cueball in the distance.] Girl: Professor, that man claims the earth is 6,000 years old! Professor: So? Just use your head and don't concern yourself overmuch with what other people think.
[Cueball is gone and the girl is no longer pointing but just talking to the professor.] Girl: But he says the fossils in the mountains were put there in a flood! Professor: Well, evidence suggests that they were not. Girl: But he--
[A mountain landscape with blue sky to the left with white clouds, gray clod cover to the right and gray mountains below. The most prominent peak is just right of the middle, but there are 14 small and large peaks all in all.] Professor (off-panel): A million people can call the mountains a fiction, yet it need not trouble you as you stand atop them.
[The girl throws her hands in the air while the professor just looks at her.] Girl: But he believes the silliest things! Professor: So?
[The girl has her arms down again and looks on the talking professor.] Professor: The universe doesn't care what you believe. Professor: The wonderful thing about science is that it doesn't ask for your faith, it just asks for your eyes.
[The girl and professor talks.] Girl: But he's a US senator! Professor: Ah, then yes, we do have a bit of a situation.
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cedarsmoke4 · 5 months
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Okay my writing brain is simultaneously extremely exhausted/borderline burnt-out and also working on several different ideas at once, so there’s a HOT chance I’ll never get to this concept, but I’m writing/rambling the (extended) idea here so it’s out there—
Consider: You’ve repeatedly had terrible luck with auto mechanics, to the point where you’re absolutely desperate for genuine help. You’re sick of having to fight through the hoards of lying salesmen who are trying to trick you into paying exorbitant prices just because they can tell you’re not car-savvy. You want someone who doesn’t even look at your face, someone who can just figure out what the fuck is going on with your vehicle and can fix it for a reasonable price. That’s it.
Cue your friend telling you that they’ve heard from a friend of a friend who’s heard of someone, a reliable source tho, that there’s a guy who can fix anything, and fix it fast. He’s just weird. And abrasive. And rude. He doesn’t sugar coat or extort, and he barely even pays attention to you if you bring him something. The problem is, he doesn’t have a phone, and he doesn’t work specific hours, or even specific days. Also, his shop is in the middle of nowhere. If you go there you’ll just have to hope you catch him, and if you don’t, sucks to be you.
So you take the address from your friend and drive your shitbox down increasingly abandoned looking country roads until you arrive at what looks like a very large, run down garage. Scrap metal litters the yard outside, everything from old iron bathtubs to what looks like the shell of an ancient military tank. Youre desperate enough at this point that you’re willing to risk the potential rabid serial killer who might live at such a place, and you knock on the door as instructed.
You’re in luck—someone grunts out a curse from inside and drops what sounds like a steel suitcase full of metal door knobs. More clattering, then you hear the mystery mechanic yell, “come in!” You contemplate turning back, but no such luck. Your car has been making the worst noises lately, and the entire last mile to this place it was screeching bloody murder.
So you go inside. It’s dark and there’s metal everywhere, including piled up on the wooden crates that look like they might be a makeshift front counter. The cash register balances precariously on top seems convincing enough.
You nervously say, “hello?” toward the darkness through the door in the ramshackle wall, but there’s no reply. Then, lights flick on in the back room, and you hear very heavy footsteps stomping toward you.
“Cash only,” a rasping voice snaps from behind a pile of scrap nearby. You flinch, but you came prepared, so you yank a wad of bills from your jacket and slap them down on the teetering crates. Be short and to the point, you remind yourself. He doesn’t like ramblers.
“My car is fucked,” you blurt out. “Heard you can fix it.”
Silence follows your words, then a figure emerges from behind the mountains of metal. It’s a man—an extremely tall and broad man with shaggy, disheveled gray hair. You’re struck for a moment by what he’s wearing, curious about the choices he’d made while picking out his work ensemble. Usually mechanics wore coveralls to keep the mess from staining their clothes, but this man is dressed in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, both carelessly smeared with oil, dirt, and rust. What really confuses you, though, is the pair of dark, round sunglasses settled on the bridge of his nose. How can he see in this shitty, dim lighting?
He really doesn’t look at you as he moves forward, his gaze apparently already trained on the part of your car that’s visible through the outside doorway. You’d forgotten to close the door. The man doesn’t seem to mind, though. He passes you without so much as a glance, then leans against the door frame and starts muttering to himself, still apparently focused on your vehicle.
“Haven’t seen you around before,” the man remarks suddenly, turning his shoulders slightly toward you without actually looking at you. You jump, having been convinced he’d forgotten you were standing there.
“I had no other choice,” you say, then you bite your lip. You’d been surprised into blunt honesty, something you would’ve preferred to avoid. Instead of seeming offended, however, the man lets out a raspy, barking laugh.
“Well aren’t you just the smartest little cookie that’s waltzed into my shop in ages,” he drawls, the words making you bristle with anger. He finally turns back toward you, taking a few steps closer, and—much to your rapidly rising displeasure—he looks you straight in the face. His gaze, while hidden behind the dark glasses, is almost tangible as it rakes over your features. Goosebumps ripple down your arms. You’re pinned under his invisible gaze, suddenly terrified. You really shouldn’t have come here.
The cash register behind you makes a very loud dinging sound, and you nearly start out of your skin.
“Alright. I’ll fix your car, little cookie crumb,” the man says, moving past you to pick up the stack of bills you’d put on the crate. “You can wait in here.” He doesn’t even count the money before shoving it into his back pocket. You’re frozen again, insulted beyond belief by the incredibly patronizing nickname he’s given you but relieved nearly to the point of tears that he’s willing to work on your vehicle. The man apparently doesn’t notice your conflicted state. He walks toward the back room, then pauses in the doorway to send you one final glance over his shoulder.
“Don’t bother me while I’m working,” he drawls, and you see a flash of a strangely silvery-green eye behind the dark glasses as he turns back around. “If you disrupt my process, you’ll regret it dearly.”
——————————
Cue shenanigans, you peek and see that he’s telekinetically manipulating metal, then he catches you and sexy shenanigans happen—extra plus if you’ve got a septum ring, which I do so I’m giving this reader one too lmao😂😂
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ashensgrotto · 11 months
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A Merfolk's Melody (Part 2)
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Characters: Yan!Floyd x Reader, Yan!Jade x Reader, Yan!Azul x Reader
Word Count: 13.5k
Intro   Floyd Leech (You are Here) Jade Leech  Azul Ashengrotto Epilogue
Synopsis: The sea always calls to those who feel lost and alone, wanting to fill the empty part of their soul until they are loved and full… and as such, it’s only fair that the strange creatures that live beneath its depths would want the same as well…
Author’s Note: Another 4-part fanfiction courtesy of @merakiui ‘s headcanon of the reader being stuck in a room/wall (I’m sorry, but I just enjoy your headcanons and they always give me these ideas) -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722393818829373440/in-addition-to-being-stuck-in-a-locked-room?source=share & https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722677892623056896/about-the-stuck-in-a-wall-trope-in-the-oceani?source=share
Here’s how it’s going to work: each character is going to get their own part following the intro. It is going to focus on the Octrio again (bc it’s my current liking, sorry guys). If you want to read a certain character’s part, feel free to jump around and select the one you’re most interested in. 
Again, as stated before, this is a work of fiction; I disagree with any and all behaviors that are represented in this story.
*****
Just as the shore was lined by rocky terrain, the same could be said beneath the waves. Rocks and heavy stones climbed up toward the surface like mountains reaching for the sky. Sea grasses waved with the movement of the tide like it was wind while small fish and crabs swam and scuttled along the rocky beds. Coral and sea anemone peered out from dark crevices, the colors of sea green, blue, pinks, and cream stark against the backdrop of black, gray, and dark green. Never before had you ever seen a more beautiful sight as your body dove further away from the shoreline, your eyes intaking every little detail and imprinting it to memory to recall later. 
The sea grass tickled your feet as you kicked by them and you touched the rocky walls that housed the creatures of the deep before a school of fish swam by, some of their colorful bodies brushing against you as the feeling of scales and coating left their marks along your body. Other sea creatures like mantis shrimp, seahorses, and the occasional sea turtle or dolphin appeared beside you - as if to welcome you to their little hidden paradise among the waves; some waving in your direction while another would slip under your hands or body, guiding you further and further into the rocky caverns before leaving you to your own explorations.
Every few minutes, you would stop and lift your head above water, gulping in deep breaths as your lungs drank in the air like a drowning man, before you would duck back below the surface. As you ducked beneath the surface for another time, a flash of sea green catches the corner of your eye from a little ways below you. You blinked, turning your head in the direction where you saw the flash, wondering what you had seen. It could have been some sea grass - but it seemed much bigger, maybe a fish? You pop back above the surface, looking around as the waves crash around you, judging your distance from your location to the shoreline. 
You were a bit away from the shore by now - but not too far that you couldn’t swim back - making you think that what you saw may or may not have been a shark. However, to your knowledge, you didn’t know of any green sharks that existed in the real world. The stories and tales of the merfolk came flooding back to the forefront of your mind, as well as the story of the old fisherman. You looked down into the water as you felt a set of eyes watching you from beneath the waves as a feeling of unease crept over you; however, that strange tugging sensation you felt on land was now pulling you down - towards the rocky caverns beneath the waves. 
Would you dare follow your instincts? They had never been wrong before when it came to this sort of thing. Steeling your nerves, you take a gulp of air and dive beneath the waves - unaware that this was to be your last time above the waves.
Your lungs burned as you held your breath, disappearing into the dark caverns that made up the rocky mountains of the ocean. You let the tug within your body guide you through the dark crevices and through long winding tunnels; following the unknown path blindly. As you traveled, you swore you could hear a clicking noise behind you - often turning to look over your shoulder to see if there was another sea creature you had to meet behind you, but you were unable to make out anything in the darkness of the waters. However, when you did continue onward, a shape that was long and menacing appeared behind you, a wicked grin reflecting off a row of sharp teeth - a pair of heterochromia eyes that glowed in the dark locked on your form as they followed behind you quietly. 
At the end of the tunnel, an open area that appeared to be a large cave with a small opening - large enough for you to fit through. The tug had ended here - at a dead end; you floated there for a moment, looking around in the darkness as your hair spread around you, no longer confined to the restraints of the air above. However, your heart nearly stopped when you heard a voice snicker before a familiar and unfamiliar voice called out, “Oh, Shrimpy~!!”
You spun around, creating bubbles as you whirled, as a creature appeared from the darkness behind you in the entrance of the cave. It was hard to see, but you were certain it was the strange green creature you had seen earlier; it had the upper body of a man and the lower half of some sort of frilled fish and close to about seven or eight feet in length, fins peeking out from the sides of his head like ears and on his forearms. Small stripes stretched across his cheeks, shoulders, arms, and waist with two thicker ones on his tail, dipping near his hips and over where a set of thighs may have been had he been human. Hair the color of deep teal floated around him as a longer strand the color of seaweed fell over the right side of his face. His eyes, one brown and one gold, studied you for a moment, brows curling inward. 
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that some - if not most - animals, even sea creatures, could be territorial; especially if they had a nest or a grotto nearby. This thing probably had been out hunting for food for its young - meaning very likely that mers were not so different from the sea creatures that had made their homes within the rocky caverns. Based on what you had seen - this was no ordinary merfolk, either; it was a moray mer - and a deadly one at that. Moray eels were known to attack when provoked, but the mers were known to hunt anything that trespassed into their territory - watching from the darkness before striking unexpectedly. You had heard stories about them when you were a child - the locals believing that they typically traveled in pairs, meaning that there was likely a secondary one close by and you had to tread carefully now that one of them had found you.
The two of you stared at each other - you nearly turned blue from holding your breath so long, but not wanting to move in case the moray mer tried anything as well as caught up by his features. In the darkness of the cavern, you could still make out strong, sharp features that border-lined what appeared to be boredom; his mismatched eyes drooping downward to indicate as much. A pointed nose stopped above a thin lips that twisted into a smirk, the hint of sharp teeth protruding from behind them - high cheekbones were lined by twin deep teal markings that stopped just beneath his eyes. You could see the faint ridges along the mer���s neck that fluttered from the movement of the water - the gills that permitted him to breath.
His heterochromia eyes suddenly lit up - glowing brightly as a smile bearing the frightening sharp shark-like teeth spread out before you - his stripes slowly beginning to glow a bright neon teal, “Found ya.’” 
The mer dodged at you, frightening you into moving quickly to try and avoid him. You allowed yourself to sink for a moment, trying to swim back the way you came. The mer was quick, stopping you from exiting by cutting off the escape route, eyes glowing in the darkness as his long tail curled above him. You spung and swam in the opposite direction, toward the little hole in the wall that was your only way to escape. 
“Shrimpy… Please don’t try to run away from me,” the mer growled as he gave chase - much faster than you, “I don’t like it when my prey tries to run - especially you.”
‘What is this thing’s problem?’ you propelled yourself forward, toward the only other exit, ‘Damn it - I likely crossed into its territory when I wasn’t thinking. I have to get out of here!’
You were close to the hole when a webbed clawed hand grabbed at your leg, pulling you downward and into the mer’s chest. 
“Hehe~ I got ya, Shrimpy,” you heard the mer whisper, his cold nose stroking along the outer shell of your ear as his hands rested against your neck, his thumbs pressed against the back of your neck as his nails on his fingers curled against either side of your throat - right were your heartbeat was thumping wildly as his next words sent you thrashing, “You’re mine…”
You balled your fists together and pushed your elbows into the mer behind you, his hands scratching your throat none-too-gently as he released you, grunting from the impact. You pushed yourself up and out of his reach, away from him and towards the hole in the walls. You spread your arms forward, your hands, wrists and arms passing through the entrance with no problems - head, neck and chest following shortly after with little difficulty. You urked then, gasping as a surprising pain shocked through your waist, stomach, and hips as they refused to go forward. You press your hands against the outer side of the wall of the cavern, pushing against the hard rock that digs into your skin as you attempt to free yourself from its hold and the creature that lurked behind you. You could hear him giggling behind you, feel his tail wrap around your ankle like seaweed as his hands came to rest on your hips, nails digging into your clothed skin. You kicked at him to push him away, but his tail wrapped tightly around your legs - keeping them contained.
"Ah, shrimpy, shrimpy," you heard him tut behind you before you felt his thumbs run circles over your clothed hips, "If ya had wanted to mate with me so badly… why didn't ya say so?"
'M-mate?!' You thought, trying to struggle against the mer’s hold.
"Now, calm down - unless ya want me ta be rough with ya?"
You feel the back of your shirt raised before something slimy and smooth run along your back before something coarse follows shortly afterwards, the feeling of cool lips pressing against your exposed flesh makes you shudder. You feel long noble fingers dig into the fabric of your cotton shorts, a ripping sound bringing you back to focus as you attempt to struggle against the mer.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for ya to come to me - it’s been soo long since I last saw ya. But now - here you are, right where ya belong… but, don’t worry,” you hear a giggle behind you as something cups you between your legs - long and sharp claws slowly stroking the sensitive flesh of your clit, “I’ll take good care of ya - just like I promised a long time ago. Ya need to be still though - ya wouldn’t want to make me angry, hm?”
I feel something sharp press against your rear - making you jump in fright as pain and pleasure courses from the likely bite the moray mer has given you. 
He giggles, “So cute… so cute when you jump like this…”
You feel his fingers slowly begin to move against your hot spot, moisture from within gathering to kiss the mer’s fingertips as you whimper out loud, trying and failing to get away from his touch as your body arches from the contact. Another stinging sensation comes from the other side of your rear as sharp teeth dig into the flesh, making you cry out as a finger slowly slips into your entrance - swallowing the intruder like a snake with a mouse.
“Mmmm… so sweet and hot,” the mer whispers against your skin, nibbling on your butt for a moment before pressing a kiss to both marks and curling his finger within you as his lips move towards your back, “Precious… my precious shrimpy…”
A second finger is inserted inside you, making your eyes roll into the back of your head as you spread your legs further apart, not completely under the moray’s control as his tail releases you for favor of keeping your legs spread with one hand and his hips as his lips press kisses along your back here and there before his teeth scrapes against your skin, tugging and tear the fabric of your shirt away to get at you. Your hands, still planted on the outer side of the wall, grip the rock as you feel your face fall forward, your chest heaving from the gasps you were inhaling.
- But how could that be?
Before you could ponder it, the mer’s fingers slipped from your entrance - making you feel your clit grasp at nothing as a stroke of pleasant fire burned in your belly, making you whimper in response. However, it’s short lived as the lips of the mer trail back downward as his hands rub against the skin of your thighs, his sharp nails digging into the flesh and drawing blood as they move upward to your hips and stomach - tearing the remainder of your clothing as shreds of your shirt and shorts float to the bottom of the cavern. The mer’s sharp nose runs along the folds of your lips, kissing the sensitive flesh as another set of shivers run along your spine, making gooseflesh pimple along your arms. Before you can register the pleasure, you feel his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh, causing a howl to escape your throat as you arch - your head hitting the rocky outer wall before you wince at the impact. Something long and slippery teases your folds, flicking over the button and making you whimper as a fire begins to burn in your thighs. You try to push away, but your legs are held apart by the mer’s strong hold - your legs infinitely trapped over his biceps as his clawed webbed hands grip your thighs tightly. 
You feel him hum against you with every stroke, drinking you in like a dying man as his tongue slips into your main entrance - tasting your essence as it drips from your body like honey from a beehive - as his nose nuzzles the other entrance below you. When he does pull away, you have only a moment to pant before three long sharp fingers are pushed within your body roughly, forcing another whimper to escape your lips as they are pulled back before thrusting inward.
“Ah, shrimpy… you’re ready.”
The fingers leave you as you feel them grip your hips, his own pushing your thighs apart as something long and thick makes its home at your entrance. You shake your head, internally pleading for the creature to stop - to let you go. 
The chuckle that echoes across your backside makes you freeze for a moment, “Now, why in the world would I want ta do that?”
One hand strokes along your spine as a comforting gesture, the voice of the mer ringing in your ears as if he was right beside you, “Shrimpy - ya made a promise ta me a long time ago, however I think ya have forgotten about it. Jade always said humans are so whimsical, so I can see where and how he would see that. The good thing in all of this, though, is the bond that we made once upon a time - when I was just a little moray fry and you were just a lonely little girl in a cabin by the sea. You came back… came back for me, and now - now I can have you utterly and completely, just like ya promised.”
 You gasped as something thick, long, and ridged slipped within you. You could feel it intrude all the way to your core as strong arms released your legs in favor of wrapping around your wasit, your body being pulled backwards to all the mer to rest his forehead against your back as bubbles and soft hot breath caressed your skin. He pulled out for a moment before thrusting back in, keeping you tightly to his body as he grunted and moaned against you - the tightness a welcoming comfort. You gritted your teeth as wave after wave of fiery hot pleasure began to seep into the skin of your belly and thighs, making your toes curl and tingle with each of the mer’s thrusts as your hips connected.
“Shrimpy… shrimpy,” the mer kissed at your shoulder blades before he pulled you further into him, his head coming to prop itself beatween your shoulder and your neck, “Ah, shrimpy… so tight - just wanna lay ya, fill ya with my eggs…”
You moan softly as a particular hard thrust forces you to squeeze him tighter, which pushes the mer forward harder and faster as his hands dig deeper into your skin - the claws holding you in place but drawing blood from within. You whimper as your walls tighten around him further squeezing him hard as you gasp - feeling the peak shortly arriving.
 “F-F-Floyd…”
A name that was once long forgotten echoes in the cavern - the moray stopping for only a moment, his eyes wide at the sound of his name from your lips before that familiar wicked smirk spreads across his features.
“That’s right, (Y/N)... say my name…”
***
Several hours have passed as Floyd has curled his body around you like a large feathered boa, keeping you confined as you lay asleep in a bed of seaweed and grass. His fingers stroke through the loose wild strands of your hair, leaning forward every so often to press kisses to your face and neck - leaving little bites along your cheeks and throat to mark you as his. 
He had lost track of how many times he had gone to the surface world to find you nearly six years ago - watching from the rocky shore as he waited for you to return. With each passing day, a piece of him had begun to shatter - breaking into a thousand more tiny pieces with each failed find. It got to the point where he thought he had been abandoned - even though his brother had attempted to convince him otherwise. 
It was only about four weeks ago that something within him cried out - forcing him to jump up and stay alert in the shared cavern he had with his twin. He and Jade had gone to Azul about it - Floyd had been spooked quite a bit from the feeling of a pull in his chest like someone was wrenching his heart in two. The octomer explained that such symptoms were because of a bond that were shared between destined souls - ones that made pacts together during their childhood and would eventually bare fruit when the time had come. It only happened every so often, the octomer had explained, and it needed to be taken care of properly - otherwise the bond could sever and one of the two souls could die. Floyd had taken this as a sign to renew his searches for you in the world above.
It was only about three weeks later when he saw you from his hiding spot behind the rocks - amazed and in awe of how much you’d grown and filled out - no longer the shrimpy little girl he had teased when he had been a fry. 
He began the preparations then, making a home in the caverns near the surface so he coils always be near to you and vice versa. He gathered pretty shells and sea flowers - made your shared bed and tugged large rocks that would make a perfect home for you. He began thinking about children then - knowing that the time would come soon when he would want to have fry of his own; fry that was made from the love you shared with him. The thoughts, and being in warmer waters for prolonged periods of time, eventually forced Floyd into his heat - his heterochromia eyes now locked on you completely.
All that was needed then was… a little push.
Floyd curled himself closer to you, fingers tracing the gills that now lined either side of your neck where he had scratched you - a temporary remedy that would last until he could strike up a deal with Azul for a potion that would turn you into one of them - before his hand moved further down to press against your belly that was now bulging with his seed. His eggs would stay within you - incubating within your body until the time to lay them came; he imagined watching over the clutch with you, seeing your soon-to-be fry slowly developing within them as his fingers would graze over the outer shells. Of course, all of your fry would have to leave this place once they hatched - taken by the sea to develop and grow before returning to you.
He secretly hoped all of them would come back. Floyd returned his gaze to fixate on your features, his nose running along your cheekbone before pressing a kiss on it, “Sleep well… my precious shrimpy.”
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riddles-n-games · 4 months
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Do you have any headcanons about averyjameson getting engaged when they're older?
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Okay, let's get to business. In all honesty, I'm kind of not ready to think about them older and engaged and yet I literally have an idea for a fic with their first child. Here you go:
Jameson proposes in Tuscany when they're on a trip to Italy (don't know why, just feels right).
When he was planning for the ring he was going to get her, he asked Libby and Max for their input. They happily helped him create a list of things before heading off to a jeweler. At this point, he hadn't told any of his brothers he was planning to propose but he did have a talk of sorts with Nash at a previous 911.
Nan helped him look through designs in her collection and connected him with an old friend of his grandfather's that helped create some of the most valuable pieces for his grandmother. The final design of the engagement ring is an oval emerald on a gold band with some fancy engravings (elegant but simple as put by Max).
Once he had the ring, he finally confirmed to Nash that he was planning to propose but let him know to not say anything to Xander or Gray yet. His brother promised and gave him tips on how to approach Toby for his blessing since that was his next step.
Now, this part of the plan is delayed for several weeks as all confident Jameson for once in his life is not feeling confident and so, after drinking a shot of bourbon for a boost, he made his way to a diner to meet with his adopted uncle.
After some small talk, Toby made him cut to the chase and although he gave Jamie a hard time, he tells him that he has his blessing and that he's grown to be a better man than him or his grandfather. Jameson cries just a little on the way home but he tells himself that was just the wind biting at his face because it was cold.
Fast forward to him planning a summer trip for him and Avery in the Mediterranean and he's finally told his other brothers. They congratulate him and eagerly give him suggestions along with Libby and Maxine and soon they share a Pinterest board with all these plans and aesthetics. And soon, it's time to jet off to Italy.
With a week long affair, Jameson is both excited and dying on the inside. Avery is pretending to be none the wiser.
Before they left, he packed her an emerald green summer dress for the day of the proposal.
They have fun at the beach, go to Florence and Pisa, make funny poses at the Tower of Pisa, horseback riding at the winery, eat overly expensive gelato and cannolis, and consume as many pasta types at they dare (no, seriously, it was a dare; you guess).
Meanwhile, every day of the week, he goes to practice proposing in the bathroom mirror. His hands get clammier with each passing day as Friday comes near.
He calls Nash and Gray for reassurance to calm down. Unfortunately, he wanders the halls more restlessly at night with the ring in his pocket.
Finally, Friday arrives. No going back. He has the day set; another day in town, then a romantic wine dinner looking out over the mountains at sunset.
He tries his utmost to keep himself distracted from the evening ahead but hour after hour goes by and soon they're back at the house, washing up and getting ready for dinner.
While Avery is in the shower, he sneaks out the dress and puts it one the bed and writes "Wear me if you dare." on a piece of paper.
He leaves for the living room and practices his lines again as he waits for her.
After a long hour, she comes and they head out to the area he set up dinner. Of course, Avery has been suspicious this whole time but hasn't called Tahiti because she is certain he's going to finally break without her even asking.
She thanks him for the dress and kisses him on the cheek, secretly wondering what the special event is. Was it the special lady's intuition telling her that there was a ring coming out soon?
They talk and talk while they wine and dine on his grandfather's finest white wine. She is itching to ask but the pasta dinner is hitting that good. Jameson is barely able to eat dinner from being so nervous.
Just as she is about to make him spill the beans, he literally just shouts, "Marry me!" Avery is taken aback, her mouth wide open and for a long moment, she doesn't say anything as her boyfriend is staring at her panicked, realizing he messed up.
Before he could start hating himself, Avery literally dives into his arms without a word and hugs him. Confused, he hugs her back and they sit like that for a long moment, her on his lap. Then, she whispers, "Yes, Jamie. I'd love to marry you."
When she pulls back Jameson is staring at her in wonder and as he's about to reach for the ring, she kisses him. A bit dazed after the kiss, he's still holding the ring box unopened and she asks if she can open it. He nods and then lets her.
She starts crying when she sees the ring and he gently takes her hand, asking if he can put it on her. Avery just nods and holds out her shaky hand as Jameson tries to stop his own hand from trembling while he puts it on.
The two kiss again and then Avery decides to go run through the vineyard, Jameson chasing after her as she heads for the stable.
They go riding and then stop in the middle of the field, spinning in circles until out of nowhere, they just start swaying to invisible music.
They don't sleep a wink that night as they whisper excitedly the whole time until early morning when they finally are too tired.
Little do they know that Xander has planned an entire engagement party waiting for them when they return from Italy.
The last two days they travel for a weekend beach date.
That took everything I got to make this. Thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy reading this long ass list.
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