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netegf · 1 year ago

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FINALLY HOME AND READY TO READ!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🩷🩷🩷🩷 been soooo eager but i really wanted to give it the time and attention it deserves and ikkkk this is gonna hurt so good <333 !!!!!

"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"

from the get go, this has me so soft 🥺💖💖💖 first of all, neteyam putting his head in vi's lap is so ❤️❤️❤️ !!!!! [heart exploding] + the thought of them watching human tv and movies so so domestic and soft.. it is such a stark contrast from where they are today :(( also the idea that our human media brings them home is adorable pls.

You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.

STOP IM SO CONFLICTED bc i was so happy to see o'i'en back for this cameo!!!! but the context is so heart-breaking 😭😭😭😭 it felt like that "I don't even treat you that good, girl, why you smilin'?" drake meme 🤣🤣🤣🩷🩷🩷

seeing vi rush out of treatment while she's injured to find oare, knowing what's happened is so sad i can't :'((( poor baby

Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you. “No…Oare, no…” “She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”

i 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 am 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 okay 😭😭😭😭!!!!!!!!!!

“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”

i am so here for vi demanding answers and really needing neteyam to vocalize what he's feeling / BEEN feeling all this time !!!! she is legitimately a BOSS and i admire the way you write her so much andra!!! 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖💖 when i imagine the frustration and borderline numbness she feels at this moment... 😭😭😭😭 she is in so much pain and is not playing around!!!

"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.

me gasping like LITERALLY every other word because this relay of dialogue was so fucking captivating and cathartic!!!! i literally LOVED seeing them both let it all out 😫😫😫😫🩵🩵🩵

He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.

my stomach is in my THROOOOOOAATTTTT 💖💖💖💖 !!!!!!! the tension build-up, the candor from both of them, this release of feelings and emotions and urges is EVERYTHING!!

"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

stop stop stop this is literally making my whole body melt 😭😭😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷 i love this dialogue because it makes soooo much sense to me given the context of the story, but also because i imagine how vi would have interpreted this so differently in real time... like it would have just looked like neteyam wanted nothing to do with her anymore and that she's nothing like the girls he's interested in!

It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.

i love how we we end with this really domestic imagine, the same way we started the chapter with one 🥹🥹🥹 this fic is ART !!!!! so carefully crafted !!!!!😭😭💖💖💖

You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

ANDRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💔💔💔

i am in pain and my heart hurts but i also LOVE THIS ENDING bc it's so juicy and angsty 😫😫😫🩷🩷🩷🩷 i feel like she must be so overwhelmed in this moment so honestly i understand where she's coming from and i am SOOOO hyped to see how neteyam reacts to this next chapter AAAAAA!!!!!!!

incredible work as always i am in constant awe of your genius! 🥰🥰🥰

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.

wc: 7k words

a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)

pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage

"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."

Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.

"Yes?"

"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."

You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.

"I want to be more than this, too."

Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.

"Yes. I'd like that."

You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?

“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her.

"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.

You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right.

“Fuck, your back…”

“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.”

“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still.

“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead.

“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with.

“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”

“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that.

You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.

“What happened, O’i’en?”

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target.

“Nothing else.”

O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.

“What. Happened. O’i’en?”

"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."

"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."

The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.

"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"

His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.

"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."

"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."

"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.

“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.”

“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“

You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process.

“No.”

Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt.

“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.”

“I saw her… in the lineup.”

“The lineup?”

“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.”

“No…Oare, no…”

“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”

You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.

Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.

“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I know where she is.”

He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit.

It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.

Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out.

"Leave."

Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.

“Why are you here? You should be resting.”

He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.

“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.”

"Txepvi... Just co-"

"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."

He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.

"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.

I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone

“Why did you stay with me?”

Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.

“Answer me, Neteyam.”

“I don’t know.”

You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.

It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.

I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard

"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."

"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"

“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“

“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

"What do you mean?"

He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.

"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."

"Who?"

"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."

Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...

"He wasn't wrong."

I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying

You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.

"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.

“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"

“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.

Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.

“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “

“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"

All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust

Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.

"Just...Stop talking."

His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.

"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."

You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."

At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.

"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."

You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.

You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.

"F-fuck!"

"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."

"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."

Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.

He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.

His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.

You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.

The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.

I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....

I love you.

"Neteyam..."

"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."

You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.

"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."

For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me

"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."

Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.

In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim

(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)

#MDNI #recs #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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dailyadventureprompts · 4 years ago

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Dungeon: The Castle of Great-Pyre Lake

“I operate under the principle that if that folk immortalize your downfall in a ballad or skip-stone rhyme, you were likely an ‘arse and deserved everything you had coming”.

-Pravi Thornmead, haflfing bard.

Adventure Hooks:

Settling in at the local tavern, There’s a story the locals tell late at night; part folktale, part ghost story, and it begins with a man who had everything. Like any man who had everything he was never satisfied, and his many abuses (detailed below) of the poor tenants who he presumed to possess culminated in his attempt to replace a maid he’d recently work to death by purchasing the daughter of the village cobbler. Having had quite enough of this spendthrift tyrant, the daughter led the villagers in sealing the man who had everything, along with all his possessions and his many guards inside his richly appointed castle and setting the whole thing on fire. The party is welcome to venture out to the swamp and see the still blackened ruins, to perhaps poke through the ashes for some treasure as many have before. Perhaps they’ll come back and spend a few of those coins on drinks for the ones who told them the tale, eh?

The deposed master of this domain once imported beasts from all over to fill his menagerie, discarding them into the wilderness when he grew bored of them. Folks still tell tales of the hobbled chimera that held up in the hills some generations ago, and even today there’s a dangerous number of cockatrice still stalking the marshland.

Though tales of the Man who had Everything’s cruelties are myriad, a sharp eared treasurehunter might pick out a story where a starving farmer was offered the chance to pay off his debts to his lord if he retrieved a particular sapphire ring before the end of the day. After getting the farmer to agree to the terms of this bet, the man who had everything showed him this ring, and tossed it down an old well. Neither the farmer nor the ring were ever seen again, but perhaps the party will fare better in delving into the dark and chilling aquafer in the hopes of loot.

Setup: While he burned, the Man who had Everything ( who’s name was Lord Andras Vernocck) thought nothing of escape, instead racing about his increasingly smoke filled castle attempting to save his treasures and cursing his treacherous servants and inattentive guards. His squawking ( and all the fire) caught the attention of a dark spirit of pride and cruelty that’d come to live, stealthy as a tapeworm, in his abode. This devil approached the dying Andras, who’d collapsed trying to haul a portrait of himself out of a burning study ( the delicious irony), and offered to repay his host’s unwitting hospitality by ensuring that Lord Vernocck survived the disaster. Fortunes could rebuilt after all, and he’d even do the noble a courtesy befitting of his station and not take his soul in the bargain.

Fearful of the flames and losing anything more, Andras Vernocck accepted the deal without hesitation, immediately regretting it as the devil walked off into the conflagration untouched, laughing all the while. In the proceeding hours, the man who had everything was reduced to nothing along with the rest of his possessions, his soul secured to this plane by the devil’s bargain, unable to escape to any afterlife.

When the fires died down all that was left of Vernocck was his charred and blackened skeleton, around which his being slowly began to reconstitute. He now exists as a twisted form of vampire, his flesh nothing more than compacted ash hanging off his bones, forced to hide in the ruins of his once palatial home for fear of a wind that may flay him, or the water that will dissolve him into mud. Truly unable to die until the devil releases him, Andras has devolved into something piteous and feral, driven to stalk and rob those who come to loot his destroyed home, driven by visions of rebuilding the privilege of his past.

Background: Like any other man who had everything he was never content, either with his money or his malice, and engaged in petty acts of cruelty to flaunt his high station above those poor souls who lived on his land. As he walked he’d toss gold coins into gutters and animal pens, just to watch laborers foul their clothes scraping in the muck. He’d amuse himself by importing exotic beasts from forign lands as pets and when he’d tire of them he’d release them onto the common land, either to die or to terrorize his tenants. To spite winter’s chill he’d keep every grand room in his drafty castle blazing hot, having his servants chopping and carting in loads of firewood during snowstorms to feed the hearths of halls they’d otherwise be forbidden from entering.

Things came to a head when one day the man who had everything showed up at the house of the village cobbler. He was there to make a purchase he said, and hefted a pouch that jingled most appealingly.

“I’ve made you many fine shoes already” said the cobbler, “but anything in my shop is yours”

“ Anything? Good” said the Man who had Everything. “ I was attended by your lovely daughter last time I was here for a fitting, and have decided I’d like her to be a maid in my castle. She is very pretty, and my last one caught a chill and died quite suddenly.” And with that he dropped the pouch, which spilled gold and rubies across the Cobbler’s floor.

The Cobbler was stupefied, as was their daughter, it was enough money to feed her remaining siblings for years, but all were well aware of the cruelty with which the man who had everything treated his servants.

“ Give me a day to finish my work and a day to pack my things.” Said the daughter to the Cobbler’s horror. “ On the third day I’ll be on your doorstep ready to do clean your castle from top to bottom.

The Man who had everything smiled and tipped his hat, pleased at his purchase, and returned to his castle. The Cobbler broke down into tears, and could only be consoled when their daughter told them her plan. They went to the Cobbler’s cousin the Smith, and the Smith brought many nails. They went to the Smith’s beau the Boatmaker, who carried up thick barrels of pitch. They went to their neighbors who together brought up timbers and their tools, and on the night before the third day they went in secret to the Man’s muchabused servants, who brought them to the backways of the castle, under the noses of their employer’s guards, who were stupefied by a sudden and unscheduled donation from the town’s master brewess.

Quickly and quietly as they could, the cobbler’s daughter and all her friends and neighbors nailed the Man’s castle shut, turning it into a vast trap .

The villagers stood and watched their work burn through the night, and on the dawn of the third day the cobbler’s daughter stood at the doorstep and surveyed her work. “ I was called to be a maid but it seems this castle is already clean” She said, “ From top to bottom I see nothing but good, clean ash here, and that will be swept away by the wind without my help. Pray help me friends look this over, and we can see if we can find anything that needs cleaning”.

And so the villagers walked through the ruin, scraping up what gems and other riches had survived the blaze. It would do little to repay the years of abuse heaped on them by the man with everything, but still a little pay was more than the Man had ever given them.

#D&D #D&D adventure #Homebrew Adventure #Adventure #DnD #low level #Village #dungeon #swamp #ruin #haunting #vampire #field #demon #dare #rumor #treasure hunt

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julemmaes · 4 years ago

Text

What The

Prompt sent by @sayosdreams: Ezra goes on his first date

acotar next gen fan fiction

A/N: definitely not what I had planned for this prompt, but I’m not sad nor surprised. Ezra is 16, almost 17, Andra is 6 and the others don’t appear. But we’re introduced to Dara (MorxAndromache’s son) who is 16, Nia (AmrenxVarian’s daughter) who is 15, and Chelo (EmeriexAzriel’s second daughter) who is 6 and Fabien (FeyrexRhysand’s second son) who is 7 are mentioned.

Fic masterlist

Word count: 6,692

Ezra didn't know he could be so embarrassed for someone else. And so scared for his own personal safety.

When Nia and Dara had told him they'd found him someone to go out with, he'd never expected the guy in question to be...well, like this.

Daniel was peculiar.

When he'd seen him arrive at the bus stop where they'd arranged to meet, Ezra had immediately felt a creepy feeling of unease, which had only increased out of all proportion when the boy whose last name he didn't even know yet had hugged him like his grandmother did every time they visited.

Ezra had stood motionless with his eyebrows pinned to his hairline for a full minute while the other one formally introduced himself, reaching out a hand toward him. He'd seen her nails polished a cheerful pastel blue and had smiled, trying to quell that wrong feeling in the back of his mind, "I like your nails."

Daniel had chuckled disturbingly - the sound still etched in Ezra's mind - and then made a very serious face, "It's to let others know I'm so gay."

The Navarro boy hadn't commented, not wanting to make an immediate bad impression with his date, but he'd found at least five ways to retort to that immense bullshit.

Daniel had linked their arms together and told him he'd take him to his favorite spot, and Ezra had been hesitant with all that physical touch. Not because he wasn't used to having someone around all the time touching him in one way or another, but because Daniel seemed like the kind of person who had no idea what boundaries were and he wasn't keen on being kissed out of the blue.

"So, what are you?" he had suddenly asked him.

Ezra had arched an eyebrow, confused, "What am I?"

"Yes, what are you silly," the other had chuckled. Silly? What the- "Gay, bi, pan?" Ezra had been dumbfounded, and he was sure that if Daniel hadn't been dragging him along, he would have gotten stuck in the middle of the sidewalk. He'd blinked a few times, trying to figure out why someone would ask such a thing for no apparent reason. When he'd still been silent, looking for an answer that wouldn't make him look like a complete idiot, Daniel had asked him again, giving him a light shove.

Erza had looked at him at that point, his expression somewhere between surprised and furious, "I don't know yet, I'm trying to figure it out."

"Oh, poor thing, I'm sure you'll understand after tonight." and again that creepy giggle, "I'll make sure this date makes you realize you're completely gay."

He hadn't told anyone he was going on a date that night, only his two best friends, and in that moment he couldn't have regretted his decision more.

He'd made up an excuse for his parents and Cassian and Nesta were now home chilling, probably doing what they did every Saturday night when they somehow managed to get rid of their kids, but Ezra just wanted to call his mom and get the hell out of that fast food.

He made a disgusted grimace, moving a chip with a handkerchief, too afraid that he would catch some kind of disease if he actually touched that food, when something under the table caught his attention. He opened his eyes wide when he realized it was a cockroach and had to suppress a gag.

"Are you okay, Ezzy?" Daniel asked him in a squeaky voice - Danny, as he'd asked him to call him when they'd arrived at the venue, "You look a little pale."

Ezra looked up at the boy, unsure whether to tell him for the tenth time that he hated that stupid nickname he'd stuck on him almost an hour ago or to let it go and try to enjoy the rest of the evening. Staring at the individual in front of him for a second too long, he gave him the most fake smile he could muster, replying simply, "Everything's fine." even if it was anything but fine. He certainly couldn't tell him that he never wanted to hear another word come out of his mouth, or that the place creeped him out so much that he was sure he'd have nightmares for the rest of his life. Or that the group of guys sitting at the table next to them looked at them so wrong every time he used the word gay that he wouldn't be surprised if they ended the night running away from them.

He'd done so many little things to make him uncomfortable that Ezra was wondering if he wasn't doing it on purpose, if he was on some kind of candid camera and if his friends would be coming out of the kitchen any minute, laughing at his misfortunes.

"That's good." resumed Daniel, then took a bite of his sandwich and some sauce, which should have been any other color but the one it was, fell on the table, "Anyway, back to what we were talking about before."

Ezra winced, closing his eyes and trying not to breathe in the awful smell of dirty water that hovered around the place. He didn't want to go back to the conversation from before. He wanted to run away.

"The first time I came out was when I was eight years old and everyone called me names, like I was telling you." Daniel nodded, continuing to chew with his mouth open, and Ezra could only avoid looking at him for a short time before the boy demanded they make eye contact. He'd explicitly asked him several times.

"Oh and then of course the first Gay Pride I went to was only a few years ago, because you know, they don't do any in Velaris and never will, duh." the boy said making an x with his fingers as he shook his head. Ezra chuckled at that gesture, more out of desperation than anything else, and Daniel seemed to take it as an invitation to continue, because he launched into a detailed description of his first time having "gay sex" with someone.

He shut his brain down, planting a tugged smile on his lips and hoping the torture would end soon.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out as Daniel said, "I kissed someone for the first time when I was ten, a boy of course." He jumped from topic to topic with such ease that Ezra struggled to keep up with him and was a little grateful for that.

It was a text from Nia asking him how the date was going and that she and Dara were at the latter's house, waiting for him to ask to pick him up. He typed a reply quickly, offending her in every way possible for putting him in such a situation and begging her to come as soon as possible. He turned off the screen, putting his phone back in his pocket and then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and furrowing his brow as his brain perceived the words "blood" and "anal."

A not at all pleasant sensation began to blossom at the pit of his stomach.

He breathed through his nose deeply and regretted it soon after. If he hadn't ended up throwing up that night or dying, he would have given himself a weekend at a spa with the full package, sauna and all that crap and he would have forced Nia to pay for it. It was his friend's fault that he was now in this pathetic situation.

Ezra closed his eyes, trying to calm his thoughts and completely externalize himself from the outside world - something he'd learned to do on long trips to Illyria when his siblings decided to have a tantrum all at once. When Daniel didn't stop for another ten minutes and Ezra vaguely heard the word orgasm, he stood up abruptly, bringing his hands close to his ears in case he didn't stop talking.

Daniel brought one hand to his mouth and the other to his chest, startled by that sudden outburst from him.

"Ezzy..." he murmured, "what's wrong?"

Ezra clenched his hands into fists, closing his eyes. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was intensifying more and more, "Stop calling me that, please." then he stared into his eyes, leaning forward, "I asked you to stop two hours ago. Two hours."

Daniel stared at him open-mouthed, some chewed food was visible and Ezra was forced to turn away, trying to erase the image from his mind, but he heard it anyway when he asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

Ezra huffed out a laugh and the group of older boys, who had been watching them since they entered the fast food restaurant, stared at him with somber expressions, then shifted their gazes to Daniel. He brought his attention back to Daniel in turn and said in a low voice so that no one would hear him, "I'm sorry to have to tell you like this, but there won't be a second date and this one ends here."

He didn't even wait to see Daniel's reaction, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He shivered in the cold of the city and looked around, lost. He had no idea where he was. He didn't know what part of town that fast food was in, and he couldn't understand how Nia knew the place existed. He walked down the main street, hoping to find something - a store, a bus stop, anything - that would help him figure out where he was.

He had just finished slipping on his jacket when he felt a hand tighten around his wrist and pull hard enough to make him stumble backwards. He didn't even realize he was falling until his back hit the ground and the air rushed out of his lungs so violently that it shocked him. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to catch his breath. Panic didn't have time to make its way through his body that someone was pulling him up by force.

Ezra kicked his feet in the air, looking around, unsure whether to scream for help and trying hard to free himself from the stranger's grasp, when he realized with horror that it was Daniel.

The all too cheerful and bright eyes that had characterized that basic little face until that moment, that had frightened but more than anything else bored Ezra to the point of exhaustion, now shone with a new emotion and he was petrified to realize that he looked like another person entirely. It was anger, pure rage in the boy's pupils.

"Daniel-" he tried to say to get him to let go.

Daniel was still clutching the front of his shirt and shook his head when he said his name, "I don't get it, what is it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side smiling, "You don't like to talk about me being gay because you haven't figured out what you are yet?"

What was wrong with this guy?

Ezra's eyes were wide and he couldn't speak. He was afraid Daniel would hit him.

After all, he didn't know him. He didn't know anything about the person in front of him other than the fact that the only trait in his personality was being gay. He hadn't been able to get anything personal out of him, nothing about what school he attended, nothing about his family, his hobbies.

A sheer, unmitigated terror made its way through his mind as he realized that Daniel could easily have been even much older than he said he was.

"Let me go." murmured Ezra, clasping his hands around his wrists. The only certainty he had at that moment was the fact that Daniel wouldn't be able to pull out any kind of sharp object to hurt him as long as he had his hands on Ezra.

Daniel wasn't that much bigger than him, he was a few inches shorter, but Ezra wasn't the kind of guy who would get into fights and win. No, he wasn't like his brother. He was more the type who got pushed into the fight and ended up with a broken nose because he didn't want to hurt the other guy.

The door to the fast food restaurant opened behind him and he tried hard to block out the shaking of his hands, of his lower lip. He couldn't take his eyes off Daniel's, too scared that if he even moved a finger, the other would snap.

"Everything okay out here?" someone asked, a deep, gravelly voice.

Daniel's eyes snapped over his shoulder and loosened their grip on his shirt. Ezra took the opportunity to push him away. Cursing, he fell backwards again, cushioning his fall with his hands and felt a sharp pain go up his arm. Hissing, he brought the limb to his chest, clutching it with his other hand.

Arms slipped under his shoulders, helping him pull himself up, "Here."

As soon as he was on his feet, Ezra took three steps back, moving away from both men in front of him.

He realized with no small amount of dread that the newcomer was one of the boys who had been watching them all evening. He cursed mentally this time, trying to think his way out of the fucked up situation.

How had he ended up there?

How had he ended up in the ugliest neighborhood in all of Velaris just because he wanted to go on a date?

Daniel was looking at the man now, much bigger and bulkier than the two of them combined, and Ezra heard a bicycle bell ring in the distance.

The heads of all three snapped toward the sound, but the only one who started running toward the two approaching figures was Ezra. He heard Daniel yell his name, but that only prompted him to run faster.

Nia was flailing around, swinging dangerously on her bike, and she didn't seem to notice the condition he was in, because she was smiling like a little girl on Christmas morning, but Dara was.

"Nia, come here." Ezra heard him say even at that distance. The girl must have heard something in her boyfriend's tone too, because she bolted beside him and got off her bike silently. Ezra continued to run at breakneck speed until he was in front of his best friends and got on the bike Nia had just left behind. He ordered them both to take off with short breaths and Dara to pedal as fast as he could before darting off down the road.

The boy in question waited until Nia was safely settled on the rack before turning the bike around and following Ezra down the half-lit street.

What the hell had just happened?

***

"I think we should call aunt Nesta," Nia said, with a grave expression.

Dara shook his head, reaching behind her and resting an arm on the back of the bench, starting to play with a strand of her hair, "She'll riot if she finds out what happened."

Nia looked at him frowning, "So you think we should handle it?"

Dara nodded, reducing his lips to a thin line.

"The us-handling-it ended with Ezra almost getting himself killed," she pointed out to him, "I think we've done enough for tonight."

"Speaking of," Ezra murmured. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his eyes closed, convinced that if he opened them he'd start crying. "Where the fuck did you find someone like that?"

A shiver ran through his body and he didn't know if it was because of the memory of Daniel or because they insisted on spending their Saturday nights in the cold backyard of Dara's house.

Nia scratched the back of her neck, "A friend told me she had a friend who was busting her balls because he's been single for too long and he reminded me of someone." she gave him a pointed look and shrugged, "I didn't think he'd be a psycho."

Dara chuckled tiredly and Ezra lifted his head to look at him, "Why are you laughing, that was terrifying." he repeated for the billionth time. "I don't think I'll ever date again."

"Actually as a first date it kinda sucked," mumbled the girl yawning. Erza knew they were both dead tired and it wouldn't make any difference if he stayed over at his aunt Mor's or went back to his house, either way he would find himself alone in a bed. He might as well avoid a sleepless night because of Nia's snoring.

Truth be told, he would have preferred to be cuddled by his sisters, but he would never admit that out loud.

He opened and closed the fingers of his left hand, wincing every time the cut on his wrist joint moved.

Nia was watching him closely, "You should probably disinfect that."

Ezra huffed, closing his eyes and scratching his eyebrow, "I'll do it when I get home."

"Do you want me to call your mother?" she offered, understanding immediately. Dara nodded beside her.

He thought about it and then shook his head, getting up and picking up the phone, "If you call her she'll think I'm dead or something bad happened - which is true," he nodded, dialing Nesta's number, and bringing the device to his ear, "but she doesn't need to know over the phone."

She answered on the first third ring.

"Ezra? What's wrong?" she asked with bated breath.

The boy grimaced, immediately realizing he had interrupted something, and Dara burst out laughing. By now it was common knowledge what his parents did every Saturday night. Even Dara's moms had their Wednesdays after all.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," he narrowed his eyes, wrinkling his nose, "but, is there any way you could pick me up?"

Nesta didn't answer right away, but Ezra clearly heard the shifting of the sheets and the uncertain movements on the other side of the line and his father asked worriedly, "What happened?"

"I don't know-" Nesta answered him in a muffled voice, then more clearly, "Ezra everything alright? Are you okay?" anxiety lacing her words.

Fuck, this was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Making his parents worry about things that could easily be avoided was perhaps the thing he hated most in the world.

Casting a quick glance at his friends, he replied, "You know what, nothing, nevermind, I'll stay here and be back in the morning, don't worry about it." he tried to fake a smile, even though his mother couldn't see it and Dara scoffed, standing up and nearly knocking over Nia who was leaning on his shoulder, "Pass it to me." he murmured.

Ezra pulled away, reaching an arm out to his friend to hold him back as Dara smiled and reached for his phone.

"Where are you now?" asked Nesta urgently. More frantic movement on the other end of the phone, "I've got you on speaker."

Ezra grunted when Dara jabbed a finger into his ribs, "At aunt Mor's." he let out a giggle when he escaped his friend and started running around the garden, "But don't worry, I'm here with Dara and Nia, I'll be back tomorrow."

"Love, you never called me to pick you up in sixteen years of living," the woman pointed out to him. She heard her father agree with her as he warned her that he would wait for her in the car, "Even if nothing happened, something has to have and I don't want to put unnecessary burdens on Mor or Em. We're on our way." Ezra was about to retort when the beep beep of the call being closed rumbled through the phone.

The boy huffed, stopping his run abruptly, and Dara slammed into him, nearly knocking them both over. They burst out laughing as they pushed and pulled in a non-violent fight.

As they fell on top of each other, starting to tickle each other, Nia snickered from the porch, leaning against the railing, "How nice it is to have a boyfriend who has a boyfriend."

"You love us." both boys shouted, opening their eyes and mouths wide and looking at each other immediately after, "Aah, twins." they said again simultaneously. They burst out laughing and Nia ran a hand over her face, warning them that she was going into the house.

Dara stood up at that point, pushing Ezra away, but he helped him up anyway and they silently joined her, trying not to wake Mor and Emerie who were resting on the couch undisturbed. His friend asked him to warn his mother not to ring the bell, so that she wouldn't wake up his moms, and Ezra smiled and nodded.

Dara was the only child of aunts Mor and Em. He was only a few months younger than Ezra, but had been adopted when he was already two years old. Of course, none of the three could remember a day without the other two, and although Dara and Nia had been together for a few months now - after years and years of banter - the dynamics of the group had never changed.

Although Nia had become a little more possessive now where Dara was concerned, it was never really about jealousy. Ezra was just scared when she took on that stern expression that also characterized her mother Amren and threatened him with death when he accidentally hurt Dara during one of their friendly fights.

They entered the bedroom and Nia was already sprawled out on the mattress like a starfish. A soft snoring sounded in the room and Ezra shook his head, "How is she already asleep?"

Dara didn't answer him, but smiled slightly, looking at the shapeless mass of hair that hid the girl's face. He walked over to the bed, grabbing a blanket from the chair and trying to cover her entirely, but from the position she was in, an arm or leg would always be exposed to the chill air.

Ezra felt his heart tighten in his chest, "You're lucky." he whispered.

Dara snorted, looking up at him with a curled brow, "Don't go soft on me, you know we'll both start crying then." then he turned back to Nia, moving her hair out of her face, "It's also after eleven, if we start talking about this stuff I could seriously cry." an even wider smile made its way onto his lips and a twin one appeared on Ezra's. Plus, if Nia woke up with both of them crying, she wasn't going to let them live it down.

Dara and Nia had come before Cal and Nora, before Nate, Theo, and everyone else. Ezra didn't know what it would be like without them, and he never wanted to find out.

"You know, though, yeah," Dara whispered once they had settled into the bean bag chairs, "we're lucky."

Ezra looked into his eyes, yawning, "Do you think my mom will let me go to sleep without an interrogation?"

Dara grinned, "Are we talking about the same Nesta who kept us up an entire night just because she kept losing at UNO?" he reminded him of that deadly night a few years earlier, "Because I'm sure that a person who is willing to keep three whining babies awake just to win at a stupid game isn't going to let something that relevant go until they get their revenge."

Ezra groaned, closing his eyes, "I don't even know how to approach the subject."

"What part?" Dara then asked, watching him closely, "That you also like boys or that one guy almost smashed your face."

"Not helping." he deadpanned.

"No, but seriously," he pulled his legs up, crossing them underneath him, "I know your whole-" he moved a hand in midair, pointing to Ezra's head, "thinking and I don't want to make you more anxious than you need to be, but what if they don't react like you always thought they would?"

Ezra had thought about this countless times, about how his parents might react to such an admission, but the outcome had never bothered him much. He didn't really conceive the concept of coming out when you were growing up in a family like his. He didn't like the idea of having to specify to his parents that one day he might bring home someone who wasn't a woman.

One of his father's closest friends was a lesbian and her son was sitting across from him. If his parents had any objections to that, they would certainly have told him or talked about it.

He was sure it wouldn't have sparked any reaction in his parents.

"It'll be fine." said Ezra only.

"Definitely." Dara dropped his head back, "So how do you plan to introduce the I-went-out-with-a-crazy-man instead?"

Ezra shook his head, "I don't?"

"I'm serious." the other replied, closing his eyes.

"So am I."

They remained silent, Dara surely having realized Ezra didn't want to talk about Daniel anymore.

"What are you planning on doing for Valentine's Day?" he asked suddenly.

Dara chuckled, "I have a girlfriend now man, we can't go out anymore, you and I."

"You dumbass," Ezra insulted him, "I meant with Nia. Where are you taking her?"

Dara pulled himself up, stretching his arms overhead. The boy couldn't sit still for half a minute. "Actually I think she wants to take me somewhere and I'll let her," he nodded thoughtfully, "Although I'm kind of terrified she's going to take me into the woods and kill me, I'm going to activate the location on my phone so you'll always know where I am."

Ezra didn't laugh, he just nodded. The phone vibrated in his hand and his stomach twisted again.

"We're out." the message from his mother read.

He looked up at Dara and found his friend watching him, who gave him an encouraging smile.

They bid each other goonight with their secret handshake and then Ezra walked out of the room just as Dara lifted Nia and tucked her under the covers, laying down next to her.

***

"Are you going to tell us what's going on or are we going to have to guess?" asked Cassian looking over his shoulder once he was in the car.

They were already halfway home and Ezra had only said hello to them, in a very controlled tone of voice, but his mother had tossed back in her seat and stared into his eyes for what had seemed like hours before shifting her gaze to her husband and saying, "Yeah, something happened."

She had watched him for so long that he couldn't understand how she hadn't seen the bloodstain on his sweatshirt. He pulled up the zipper on his jacket, already thinking about how he could remove the stain from the fabric.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow?" he tried to ask. He was looking out the window, but he could feel both his parents' eyes on him.

"Can you sleep if you don't talk about it, or are you going to be up all night?" asked Cassian again, "Because if it's the latter, I'd rather talk about it now."

Ezra closed his eyes, thinking about what to answer. "Is Andra home?" he asked softly.

Nesta nodded, "She's been asleep for a couple of hours though. She's been playing all day with Fabien and Chelo and was dead tired." she said in a chipper tone, "How come?"

"I'm taking her to my room." he replied only.

His mother turned to him again, this time with a lopsided smile on her face, "It's not like she's a dog."

"Yeah, I know," he smiled back, "but at least I'll sleep better."

"Alright, we'll talk about it tomorrow though," Nesta told him. He merely nodded.

Not even two minutes passed and Cassian asked, "Did you have a fight with Dara?"

Ezra nearly burst out laughing, "No, Dad."

"With Nia?"

"Cass." his mom admonished him.

The man turned to her with a mock confused expression, "What?"

"He told us he'd talk about it tomorrow, stop it."

Cassian huffed, "Fine."

As soon as they arrived home, Ezra said goodnight to both of them and went straight to his room. He slipped off his jacket and got into his pajama pants, grabbing his shirt and heading to the bathroom to try and clean his sweatshirt as best he could.

He remained shirtless as he searched the drawers for cotton wool and wound sanitizer. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as he spilled some of the liquid on his cut. It wasn't too long or deep, but it had bled him quite a bit, especially considering he hadn't stopped moving his hand half a second, preventing the skin from healing.

He'd definitely done it to himself when he got free of Daniel, but he hadn't realized he'd hurt himself that badly until he'd gotten to Dara's house and Nia had seen the red stain on his sweatshirt. He cleaned the cut from the dried blood, changing cotton balls after the first one had turned completely red.

He turned on the water, running his entire forearm under it, when the bathroom door opened and his mother's head popped into view. At any other time he would have told her that she had to knock before entering their bathroom, that he might be naked, but upon seeing the color drain from her face, he remained silent.

He turned off the faucet, cupping his hand over his wrist as Nesta entered the bathroom and stared in pure terror at the cotton wool and blood on the sink. He hadn't seen his mother so scared since the day he'd broken his arm.

"Mom..." whispered Ezra, stepping forward, toward her.

"What happened?" she asked bringing a hand to her throat. Then she looked into his eyes, "Did you do it yourself?"

Ezra frowned, confused. Then the shock of what his mother's newly spoken words implied hit him and he shook his head, wincing. "No, god- no mom. I-"

Nesta moved until she was in front of him and gently took his arm, moving his hand from his wrist until she saw the cut and sighed. Whether in relief or otherwise, Ezra didn't know.

"You need to tell me what's going on, and no, you can't go to bed without telling me what you did tonight first," she murmured to him, without looking at his face. She had taken another piece of cotton and was dabbing at his wrist with the gentleness that only a mother with her children could have, checking for soil residue or anything else.

"Nesta?"

Ezra winced when he heard his father's voice calling to her.

Mom looked him in the eye, tossing the wadded up bits, "If you promise me that as soon as you get out of here you'll come talk to us, I'll go out now and let you get ready for the night in peace." she told him.

She was looking at him with so much emotion that Ezra regretted even thinking about lying to her and telling her he just fell off his bike. Besides, if it had been about something so stupid, he would have told her right away and she knew it. So, lowering his gaze to the floor, he nodded, "I promise."

Stepping out, she picked up the clothes Ezra had left on the floor and then he was alone again. He brushed his teeth, thinking about how to deal with this. He grabbed a band-aid from Celia's locker - she used more than anyone else put together because of soccer - and then slipped on his pajama shirt, leaving the bathroom and heading for his parents' room. Halfway down the hallway he turned around and stopped with his hand on the doorknob of his room. He closed his eyes, smacking his forehead against the wood, "Let's do this."

He didn't have time to knock that his parents' door opened and Cassian looked at him differently than he always did, looked at him like he was trying to read his mind. Ezra felt himself blush for the first time in a long time and shifted his gaze to his mother, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and smiling at him.

Ezra slipped into the room, sitting down at the end of the bed. Nesta settled against the bedpost and Cassian sat down, facing the wall. He couldn't see his father's face, but he sensed his concern as waves radiated from his body.

"I had a date tonight." mumbled Ezra playing with the blanket, but keeping his eyes on his mother.

Nesta opened her mouth slightly wide in surprise, then closed it again, composing herself, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't know," he confessed.

"How did it go?" asked Cassian, turning to face him.

Ezra scratched his head, "Bad."

"I'm sorry." his mother told him with as much sincerity in her voice as she could muster. Then she cast a quick glance at his dad and Ezra took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come. "How did it get so bad?"

"The other one wasn't exactly sane," he said, brushing the patch with his fingers.

Cassian stiffened and flexed his fingers several times, "Did she do anything to you?"

Ezra felt his heart start to beat a little faster, "He was-" then he stopped, looking at his parents. Neither Nesta nor Cassian seemed the least bit touched by what he'd just said. "He was peculiar."

They waited for him to speak, giving him time to process.

"He immediately started touching me and normally-"

His father interrupted him, "Touching you?" he asked in a low voice.

Ezra had never heard that tone of voice before. He had never seen Cassian's eyes grow so dark, his jaw so taut. Everything in the man's body screamed anger. His mother had pulled herself up straighter and extended a hand toward her husband, as if she needed physical support to deal with such a conversation.

He was quick to specify, "Hugs, he was always trying to find a way to touch my hands, my face, and normally it wouldn't bother me, but it was the first time I'd seen him and god, I don't even know his fucking last name." he didn't bother not to say the bad word. He knew his mother didn't care right then and he needed to vent. Cassian nodded and while Nesta seemed to have relaxed a bit, his father hadn't lost that feeling of hatred that was rippling across his face.

"He talked the whole time about things purely related to the fact that he was gay and he went into detail." he said with wide eyes, "And he demanded that we look at each other while he talked and that made me uncomfortable in no small part and the place he took me to." he shuddered, "It looked like something out of one of those TV shows that Celia always watches about houses full of trash."

Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, with a worried gaze, "Why didn't you call me? I would have come right away."

Ezra looked at her, shaking his head, "I thought about it, but I had arranged with Nia and Dara that they would pick me up with their bikes and I texted Nia and-"

He paused to catch his breath.

"As soon as he said the word orgasm I got up and told him I didn't want to see him anymore and left."

Cassian nodded, "You did the right thing." he told him resting a hand on his ankle, "With these people you never know what can happen-"

Nesta interrupted him, "How did you get the cut?"

His dad frowned and turned to her, but Nesta was just watching Ezra as she bit her lip, growing more and more agitated.

He closed his eyes, sighing, "I fell."

"Yeah, but how?"

He remained silent, trying to find a way to tell the story from the beginning without his parents losing years of their lives before he could finish telling.

"Ezra." his father murmured, tightening his grip on his ankle.

He took a deep breath and tried to say it all at once before they could interrupt him, fixing his eyes on the seams of his pajamas, "He followed me outside and grabbed my arm, but I fell backwards. He grabbed me by my jacket and when I managed to get free again I must have fallen on a rock or something sharp because I hurt my hand." his voice was shaking at the end of the sentence and he hadn't realized how striking it had actually been for him. "Some guy came out of the fast food restaurant and distracted Daniel and I ran. I found Nia and Dara on their bikes and we rode home." then he wrinkled his brow, "I've already blocked his number and his every social account." he added under his breath. When he looked up at his parents, he felt tremendous guilt. Nesta had a hand over her mouth and her eyes slightly glazed over. He could see all kinds of emotions battling there: anger, apprehension, panic, worry. He could see how much it was costing her not to leave that house and go find Daniel on her own.

Cassian had sprung to his feet and was now pacing back and forth between the closet and the bathroom, hands crossed behind his head as he took deep breaths.

Ezra didn't know what to do. They had broached the subject of relationships many times before, there was no reason why they should have to explain to him why everything that had happened was wrong and that it wasn't normal, that it wasn't his fault. He knew.

"Are you okay?" his mom asked him.

He nodded, "I didn't want to tell you tonight because we're all tired, tomorrow morning would have been better." then he shifted his gaze to his dad, "I'm sorry, dad."

Cassian froze, letting go of a trembling breath as he shook his head. He sat down next to his son, wrapping his arms around him and holding him to his chest. Ezra melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around him in turn.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," he murmured to him. He pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. Then he shook his head again, "I'm sorry you didn't tell us about the date and I'd appreciate it if in the future you would."

"Yeah," Nesta indulged him, moving around on the mattress until she was next to them and could place a hand on his face, "we don't care who you go out with, but at least know where you're going so that if something happens we know where to come get you."

Ezra nodded.

Then Nesta opened her arms and he released herself from his father's grasp to find comfort in his mom's.

"I'm sorry, love." she whispered to him.

Ezra shrugged, saying in a muffled voice, "Don't worry, I'm fine."

And he was indeed fine.

He felt his father's hand caressing his back and they stayed there for a while longer, while Nesta and Cassian exchanged a look full of emotions and worries, but also of relief because the evening could have ended in a completely different way.

It wasn't until the next day that they would ask him if he wanted to press charges and how it would all play out should he decide to continue, only after they had talked about it a whole night between the two of them.

In the meantime, Ezra would come out of their room after saying goodnight to them for the second time and crawl into Andra's bed, where the little sister would immediately attach herself like an octopus to his neck and where they would fall asleep peacefully hugging.

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dontshootmespence · 6 years ago

Text

Broken Homes Fix Broken Hearts

Chapter 19

So who else is loving Derek and Juliet as much as @veroinnumera and I? Let us know!

------

“How many boxes can you possibly have?” Juliet asked incredulously, glancing all around her expansive living room at the copious amounts of crap Derek managed to bring with him. “I have never known a man with so much crap.”

Her sweet, badass boyfriend cut his eyes at her. “I have a lot of shirts and pictures of family and gym equipment...shut up! I have a lot of crap.”

Juliet snickered as she opened one of the boxes and saw a couple pictures from his mantelpiece. They were going to have to make a place for all of these pictures. This was his family - and hopefully in time, they’d be her family too. “It’s okay. I love you anyway.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You’re the one who practically proposed to me.”

“Shut up!”

------

It had been three weeks since everything had fallen apart and back together again. Well, mostly back together. Derek was still suspended because of some stupid federal government bureaucrats who refused to take their heads out of their asses. He’d been keeping busy working on other renovations, helping her out at the library, and enjoying the first real break he’d gotten from work in years. He seemed happy, but it killed Juliet inside to know he wasn’t out there doing what he really needed to be doing. Somehow these idiots couldn’t see that they were sidelining their best player. Oh, yeah, they’d also been watching sports together and not to brag but her “lingo” was getting pretty great.

Right now he was downstairs making pancakes. The smell wafted all the way up to the second floor, providing enough motivation for Juliet to pull herself out of bed. She looked around for clothes, only to realize the only articles she could find belonged to him.

Juliet paused for a moment after slipping on one of Derek’s old Northwestern University T-shirts. He hadn’t gone home for a night since everything had happened with Carter. He’d slept in her room every single night. And it looked like his closet had essentially appeared in her room. His toothbrush was next to hers on the sink. His shoes sat beside hers at the front door. All the little things said that his life was here, with her.

Was she thinking what she thought she was thinking?

...She wanted Derek to move in. Officially. Oh wow, that’s a big step. Am I ready for that? Are we ready for that? What the hell am I saying? He disarmed a bomb for me and refused to leave my side even though it meant his certain death, of course we’re ready.

This was what she wanted.

Unequivocally.

After having pancakes with Derek, she told him she had a quick errand she needed to run, which was good for him because he had to meet up with his team to figure out where the bureaucratic bullshit was heading. Of course they were good little conservationists and showered together, saving the planet’s all important water before heading their separate ways.

Since Carter had reappeared and forever disappeared, she’d been a little extra nervous getting on with her daily routine, but on the opposing end, she knew she had Derek, who was literally ready to walk through fire for her. As long as he was hers, she’d be okay. She was sure of it.

The first few stops were easy; the local party supply store to get streamers and balloons, flowers from Andra’s (a bouquet of freesias which according to Spencer symbolized complete trust), and candles from the fancy little artisanal shop around the corner.

Then came the hard part: food. Juliet wasn’t much of a cook. Over the years she’d learned how to make a few very basic things, but she stuck to them like glue. Eggs, grilled chicken with vegetables, and a few others were staples she was very confident in. Unfortunately none of those were Derek’s favorite. As she’d learned a long time ago from the very first pizza they’d shared. Derek Morgan was a “meat man.” He also loved Mexican food. So that meant steak fajitas.

Juliet had never cooked a steak before. She’d seen it done on Food Network and in Youtube videos….but she’d never actually tried to do it herself before. But special occasions called for stepping up one’s game. And if a hunk of red meat stood between her and moving in with the man she loved, then she was going to cook the hell out of it.

Figuratively. She was fairly certain overcooked steak was bad.

A couple hours later, the key was made, the food was made and she was panicking. What if the food was awful? Screw it, we’ll order out. What if he says no? Again, what the fuck brain, he loves me. He saved my life.

With the rice and beans made and set out on the table and all of the fajita fixings set out buffett style, she tried one more small piece of the steak to make sure it was okay. It wasn’t chewy or tough. That was a good thing, right?

The streamers were in place. Flowers in the vase? Check. Balloons blown up? Check, check. Candles lit? Triple check. “Okay this is good,” she muttered to herself. “He’s not gonna say no. He loves you. It’s all good.”

She was taken aback when she heard his car pull up, unlocking the door and sitting at the table to wait for him. “Well, well,” he said; he was about to get his flirt on. “This is all for me?”

When she nodded, he replied, “Then I might have to return to favor one of these days. Or later on.” His over exaggerated wink made her snort with laughter. “You made fajitas!” He exclaimed, eyes going wide. “You do love me.”

“You know I do you dork.” Juliet smiled, glancing down at the floor nervously. “I made beans and rice too. And all the toppings are on the counter. I think this is the first time there’s ever been a tablecloth on this table and-” She cut herself off. Oh fuck I’m rambling.

She was rambling, and it was quite possibly the most adorable thing Derek had ever seen. “Everything alright?” He asked gently, sitting down and piling some fajitas onto his plate. He was listening attentively but this all looked too good not to start eating.

Juliet nodded, unable to help but laugh at the sight of him tearing into his food. He looked about five. To be fair though, she looked the same way around good food. Say something. Just start talking. But nothing came out. It was like she could see the words written down on flashcards inside her head but her voice wasn’t working.

Slowly, she pulled the key out of her pocket and tossed it hesitantly to him. Given her poor aim it fell onto his plate rather than landing in his lap. Apparently watching sports didn’t make someone better at throwing.

Derek picked it up off the plate, staring at it quizzically for a moment, glancing up at her for some sort of context.

“Your toothbrush is next to mine on the sink!” Juliet found herself blurting. Wait. That didn’t make any sense. Try again. “I-I mean...would you...maybe, possibly, want to move in here? With me?” She asked softly, voice faltering slightly as she met his gaze.

This was it.

For a split second, her brain told her she’d fucked this up, but then Derek smiled wider than she’d ever seen him smile before. “You want me to move in? Is that what all this was about? A dinner to get me to say yes?”

“Maybe?” Juliet said. Plausible deniability.

Grabbing the key, he placed it on his keyring and stood up, walking to the other end of the table and taking her mouth in a sweet but heated kiss. “You didn’t need to do all this to get me to say yes, but the answer is yes.”

“Really?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“Anxiety.”

He snickered and kissed the tip of her nose. “Touche. Also, I had no idea you could cook.”

“Is the steak good? I’ve never cooked steak so I was hoping it didn’t suck.”

“It definitely didn’t suck.” Derek grinned

------

“And you haven’t cooked for me since then.” He pointed out teasingly.

“That’s why I asked you to move in. So I could avoid cooking. It was all a ploy. I’m using you for your body and your culinary talents.” Juliet pushed back.

Derek came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Somehow I think I can find a way to be okay with that. In fact I love when you use me.” He whispered, trailing kisses down her neck.

She giggled, he was trying to be sexy which it was but it sounded straight out of a daytime soap opera and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh? So you think this is funny? I’ll show you funny.” He warned jokingly, before lifting her up onto the couch and starting a tickle attack.

“No! Please! I’m sorry!” Juliet gasped in between uncontrollable shrieks of laughter.

It felt good to be home.

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