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askinkiskarma · 2 years

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Illicit Affairs | Chapter VIII: My Tears Ricochet

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: All secrets are revealed and both you and Neteyam have to live with the consequences of your actions.

Warnings: pure angst, mentions of death, mental illness, addiction, self-injury, limited mentions of Y/N, did i mention angst, angst and more angst?

Word Count: 10,3k words (the first couple chapters were 3k, how did we get here??!)

A/N: This chapter killed me a little inside. I cried multiple times writing it, so I guess fair warning. I wanted really badly to build strong, round characters who had flaws and strengths and strong reasoning for acting a certain way/doing certain things. I wanted to write this story from both character's perspective, so it is clear that in life, each person will think they are right, that their reasoning was the correct one, when in reality, we are all a little right and a little wrong in everything we do, and it is always worth trying to see things from the other's perspective. We are coming towards the end of this first series, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of this journey. As always, thank you so much for everyone who engaged with it, I loved reading ALL of your comments and replies, they really make my day.

(Also, I feel like I am playing my own little game of "how many Taylor Swift and OG Avatar lyrics/quotes/references I can reasonably fit in a story without it being obnoxious" and I can't tell if I'm winning or not.)

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

You registered the girl asking you if you were alright, but you couldn’t see in front of you, the entire room spinning like the inside of a mirrorball. You felt your body rise from where it was sat next to Neteyam’s, and shakily made your way out. Neteyam’s mate. Neteyam’s mate was next to you, asking you if you need help. It all got too much, and you lunged your body forwards and threw up on the ground next to your tent. You were panting, trying to somehow get a grasp on your mind and push the hurt aside, enough so you can see and hear the world around you.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” you manage to blurt out weakly.

You heard more commotion, and faintly made out Jake’s voice and his arm on your shoulder, trying to bring you back to them.

“Neteyam, what the hell happened?”

You didn’t hear Neteyam speak. He was quiet and you were glad. You didn’t want to hear his voice, not now, and not for the rest of your life.

The world came back to focus eventually, and you spit aggressively trying to get rid of the taste of acid in your mouth. You removed Jake’s hand from your back, and left. The thought of speaking or even looking at any of them was too much to bear. You ran, harder than you ever had before, back to where you just came from, the Ikran nest in the village. You immediately recognised your own, beautiful, gold and white, pure, unlike the rest of this world. Neyn (light colours, shades of white)… fitting name, you thought. You made the tsaheylu quickly, and without a second thought, took off.

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE III: DEPRESSION

You had no thoughts as you flew above the forest and made your way towards the general direction of the Hallelujah mountains. You realised you didn’t know where you were going, you didn’t know how you were going to find your way back, but it didn’t matter. Were you even going to ever return? There were no tears, no sadness, just emptiness. The pieces of your heart broke so finely they turned into dust, blown away in the wind of the night. Eventually you found the mountains, easy enough to spot, even in the darkness, the fluorescent flora marking the territory with an easy-to-see glow. You flew like this, for enough time that your lungs were running out of breath and your skin felt battered by the wind, but you kept going. You felt so free, so weightless. There was a calmness to your thoughts that you haven’t felt in years, probably since your mother died.

You saw a distant mountain that looked brighter than the others, and you made your way to it and were amazed to find a little cave in it, bright and colourful, a little piece of heaven on a planet that was heaven in and of itself. Neyn landed softly on the edge of the mountain and you dismounted effortlessly and approached her head, giving her pets on her neck, to which she cooed gently. She was the only friend you had, you realise. You were all alone.

“Neteyam, what happened?”

Neteyam was dragged in the tent by his dad, who was fuming. No matter what feelings his dad was feeling, they couldn’t compare to Neteyam’s anguish and terror. Why the hell was she there? She just had to wait another couple of hours and this would have never happened.

“She was patching my wound up when Tiongli came in the tent, announcing to the world she is my mate. Said mother told her about my injury.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on your mother, boy.” the Sully patriarch’s nose was flared, eyes looking at him intensely with anger and disappointment. Neteyam’s eyes filled with tears, and he felt his heart hurting so much like the gash was there instead of his arm.

“I was going to tell her tonight, dad. After dinner. I was going to tell her everything, and I was going to ask her to be my mate. I was going to come to you both and ask you to undo the engagement. I understand that a year and a half ago I gave up on her, I did it for a reason, I thought there was no future for us, and that we were hurting each other. But things have changed. She has changed. She’s going to be one of the people soon and I want her to be mine.”

“Neteyam, you can’t undo the engagement. You have known Tiongli your whole life, her family’s been expecting this since you were both young. You gave your word before Eywa, son.”

“I love her, dad. Do you understand that? I have loved her all of my life. It killed me having to leave, it killed me knowing there was no future, because she was human. But she’s not just human anymore. I was willing to go through with this for the sake of the village, for the sake of the family and the future, but if there is any chance I can have the love of my life by my side, instead, I will cling on to it for dear life. Mother was betrothed to uncle Tsu’tey, and she gave that up for you. It was done before Eywa, and she didn’t care. Because she loved you and she knew that was enough. She gave up being Tsahik, her birth right, so she can have you. I will not give up on her, dad. Mother wouldn’t have given up on you.”

“I have to find her. I have to make this right.”

You were sprawled on your back, feeling goosebumps form along your limbs from the cold grass. You were staring at the sky, noticing the bright stars you now knew were actually bright death sentences, each of them beautiful and devastating. Will you even still be alive when they come? Will everything you have gone through these few months matter? Will everything you have gone through in this life matter? All the pain, and the hurt, and the grief, just so you can die at 18 from a virus. The universe was cruel, you thought. It was a fitting end, though. Meaningless and daft, like your entire life was. Born on a planet you were not made to be able to survive on, your real planet a long-forsaken dream you will never experience for yourself, surrounded by nature that could kill you in an instant. Alone, never fitting anywhere, orphaned by human diseases: cancer and greed. Left to fend for yourself when you were just ten, learning to navigate a life that only seemed to want to clobber you to the ground whenever you thought you finally could stand up again.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel, not anymore. You wanted to fight for something, for the chance at life, or at retribution, or at love. You were dying and Neteyam killed whatever hope remained in you. They all did. Norm, Max, Jake, Neytiri, Lo’ak, Kiri, Spider, all accomplices, all aware, all willing to lie to your face for weeks with no remorse. You thought you were good at spotting liars, now you just knew how little you knew about everything.

The pain in your soul mirrored the one in your body, as you felt the morphine wearing off and your human body struggling to keep the mind steady for the link. You had to bear it, because this pain was more manageable than the one you knew waited for you in your human form, when you would be alone in a dark room with only your nightmares to keep you company.

With a sigh and a peer up at the sky, you hoped whatever comes after death was better than the hell you’ve lived in the majority of this life.

Neteyam waited the whole night in your tent, waited for you to come back, becoming increasingly worried as the hours passed and you didn’t show. He wanted to go and look for you, but knew that as soon as you got on your ikran, the chances of finding you were thin. He would go to the lab as soon as dawn broke, but for now, he was praying that you would just burst through the tent opening so he can talk you down.

He fucked up, badly. He cringed at the thought of how much he seemed to not be able to get anything right when it comes to you. Everything he did or didn’t do ended up hurting you more, the only thing he didn’t want, the only thing in the world he continuously tried to avoid.

He was consoled by the fact that he would have a lifetime to make it up to you. He will not give up trying, no matter how long, no matter how hard, he was determined to win you back and keep you, forever.

As you made it back to your human body in the early hours of the morning, you regretted waiting so long, as your body was in indescribable agony, the likes with which you didn’t know was possible for the human body to ever experience. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, you were sweating bullets and every bone and muscle in your body throbbed with enough intensity to make it almost impossible for you to get up from the pod. Everyone must be asleep at this hour, you thought. You had to make it to your bed, you had to get at least a couple of hours of rest if you were going to live to see another day. As if you were taking the Iknimaya again, you made your way form the lab to the medical ward and injected another dose of the morphine in your system. There was no going back now, you were too far down the rabbit hole to stop and why put yourself through more unnecessary pain when this will all be over in a few days anyway?

You crashed in your room for a few hours and quickly made your way back to the pod before anyone else was there to talk to. You started the linkpod by yourself and got in without hesitation.

Waking up in your Avatar body was a strange experience, as you were still in the Hallelujah mountains where you fell asleep last night. Neyn did not leave you, you noted, and she was peacefully resting next to you, cooing softly in her sleep.

“Hey, beautiful girl. Time to go back. It would be useful if you knew the way.” you pet her gently, trying not to disturb her. She woke up and pushed her snoot in your chest, and you felt it swell for this animal that you had an unbreakable bond with; you were grateful you had done the Iknimaya and at least gained a life companion from that horrible day.

As suspected, Neyn knew where to take you, and in about an hour you made it back to the village. You dreaded it, dreaded the inevitable interaction, but you knew you had to go back at some point and inform them of your whereabouts.

It was still early, so the village wasn’t quite bustling with energy yet. You quietly made it back to your tent, which you found empty. You grabbed your bow and arrows, knife and gun and a couple extra magazines. You didn’t know if you were going to be back. As you were making your way out, your head bumped into a large, muscular chest.

Fuck.

“Where the hell were you all night, kid? None of us slept a wink last night worrying.”

“Out.”

“What the hell do you mean out? Out where? You leave without telling, you don’t come back the whole night, do you have a fucking death wish?”

You laughed at the irony of his words. He caught your arm as you were walking away and pulled you back forcefully so you can face him.

��You are not going anywhere.”

“Let go.” Jake raised a brow at your words. He was not used to being spoken this way, you realise.

“How long?”

His grasp on you loosened, and his gaze softened when you peered up at him through eyelashes to which tears clung.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Kid…”

“How fucking long, Jake?”

He let go of your arm at your curse, which had never been directed at him before.

“Watch your tone, kid.”

“You made me feel like shit for learning to shoot guns without you. It made you feel bad, right? Knowing I purposefully left you out of something you could have been useful at, something we could have bonded over? I hurt you, by pushing you and Neytiri away for so many years, and I am sorry for that, but you have never, in your life, tried to understand me. So you gave me shit about something you didn’t understand, and I hurt so much inside at the thought of all I gave away by my reluctance to trust, to love, to let people in. So I changed. I let you in. I was here, everyday, acting like a perfect little daughter for you, the daughter I knew you wanted. Strong, capable, skilled. I let Neytiri in. I started calling her mum in my dreams, and although the guilt for my own mother gnawed at my insides silently, I was also relived, to finally have a family again, or for the first time.

You made me love you and break down these carefully constructed walls so you can be comfortable and sleep well at night for not breaking your promise my mum, and then you fucking stabbed me in the back.

I trusted you, Jake. You fucking lied to my face for months. Every time I asked where Neteyam was at dinners and you told me he was practicing, every day you plotted to get me out of the village as early morning as humanly possible and get me back after everyone else was fast asleep, I knew it in my heart you were lying, but you were all so good at it, I thought I was going crazy. But no, it was all a carefully planned ruse to not find out you made me come here and be part of the people just to watch the man I love belong to someone else without even a chance to decide for myself how to feel about it.”

The fight brought out the rest of the Sully family out of their tent, and they were all watching you now, concern and sadness displayed across their beautiful faces.

“You all lied to me. Looked me in the fucking eyes and lied to me, every day, multiple times a day. You were supposed to be my family.

The humans are coming. I will be here. I will stand and fight, you know I will. I will be your little soldier, and be who you made me into.

But I want to make this perfectly clear. As far as I am concerned, you and I, we are done. I am done.” You looked at every Sully one last time, and left.

You were no longer delightfully numb, but burning with anger and earth-shattering sorrow as you stalked away from the village, leaving everything behind. Your eyes were blurry with endless tears, mourning this life and this family that you managed to gain and lose within the span of a few weeks, reeling from the wounds within your heart that never had a chance to mend before being opened again, over and over. You didn’t want to go back to the lab, knowing Neteyam was most likely looking for you there. You couldn’t go to the clearing for the same reason. You had no home anymore, no place in this world, once again. You could only think of one place to go, one place where no one would ever look for you.

Your knees were shaking furiously as you walked, and you were scared of another flashback that you would have to ride out by yourself, but it never came. You just walked, crying and panting from all the pain the last 24 hours brought, and eventually you made it to a place you never thought you would ever see again. The clearing looked peaceful, with rays of light penetrating through tree branches, creating Mandalas on the ground that you found yourself tracing with your eyes.

In the corner, lay a decrepit exo suit, and you made your way to it, settling on the ground next to it. You knew now this exo suit belonged to your dad, and you removed some vines that grew on top of his name, Gideon Barlowe. A beautiful name, you thought, and your mind wandered to the past, a past way before you were even born, and wondered what your grandparents did back on Earth. Did they encourage their son to leave his own planet in pursuit of planetary colonisation, monetary gain and murderous acts? Did they know? Did he know? Was he like that his whole life, or did he start off fighting the good fight, and was corrupted by the jagged and monstrous lifestyle? You wondered if this was what he has always dreamt of doing, or he had secret dreams of being a painter, or a gardener. Did he play guitar, too? You snored sometimes, did you get that from him? You had so many questions for this man you shared half your DNA with, but have never met. For the man that died on a planet far away from home, alone, with no one to mourn him.

Was that going to be you? Would Neteyam remember you in 20 years, when he would tell stories about his childhood to his kids, when he remembered the good old times? Would you get a Na’vi send off? Or were you going to be buried somewhere in the forest, for someone to stumble upon in a distant future you would no longer be a part of?

Sobbing uncontrollably, you heard yourself speak in between wails. “Why am I here? Great Mother, please tell me there is more to this life, there is more to life than this, because I cannot do this anymore. I am so tired. I have tried to keep going my whole life, even when I wanted nothing more than to cease to exist, blissfully collapse in an ether where I didn’t have to feel anything anymore. I kept going because I wanted to make my mum proud, I wanted to honour the body and life she has given me. I am trying so hard, but I am really fucking tired.”

A little past eclipse, you arrived at the lab, and used the keycard you remembered to bring with you. You hoped Neteyam would be gone by now, in case he was trying to find you here. You made your way through the hub and into your bedroom, which looked tiny in your Avatar body. You realise how uncomfortable it must have been for him to be here so often, then cursed your brain for making you think about such things. Your Avatar body needed a bed, so you walked slowly to where the other Avatar bodies usually were laid to rest for the night. There should be an empty space where your mum or Grace used to sleep. It didn’t take long for you to wake up back in the linkpod, as with most nights recently, you were barely able to maintain the neurolink by the time evening came.

Max was waiting for you. “Neteyam came by. He’s been looking for you, said you left the village yesterday and didn’t come back. He was worried sick.”

You didn’t answer him, as you slowly got out of the pod and tried to steady your feet on the ground, harder than it seemed when the entire room was spinning around you.

“What happened?”

“The mate you all hid from me for weeks came announcing herself in my tent as we were just about to kiss.”

“Any other questions?”

You didn’t wait for a response before you made your way out of the room, stalking towards the medical ward.

As you retired to your room for the night, you noted the morphine was not working as well as used to anymore. You sat on the bed, looking at the arm that was getting blue at the amount of needle holes it had, and you knew then you didn’t have much time left. Maybe a couple of days. A couple more days of this. And then it would finally be over. You gave it a fair shot, this life thing. You couldn’t say you felt particularly sad at the thought of it ending. You pressed play on your vintage record player and let yourself sleep.

“Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you, til my dying day”

You spent the next 2 days in a haze, drugged out of your mind, waking up before eclipse and leaving to your dad’s grave and sleeping in the woods until the night, barely able to make it on your own two feet. Even in your human body, Neyn recognised you, and stood by you, which gave you some peace of mind. You made sure to bring her fruits from the lab, and she cooed warmly as she settled next to you.

When you made your way back that night, Norm was waiting.

“Where the hell have you been? Everyone’s been looking for you for 3 fucking days.”

You removed your oxygen mask and made your way to the room, where he followed you. You were in so much pain you couldn’t see straight.

“I am talking to you!” he took you by your arm and spun you around. The motion made you instantly sick, and you struggled to keep down the fruits you shared with your ikran.

“Let go of me, Norm.” you had no strength in your body anymore, so it took you awhile to shake him off.

“You look like shit. What did you do?”

You managed to make it to the bathroom, where you shut the door behind you and got in the shower. Fortunately, for you or him, you couldn’t tell, Norm was gone when you came out.

The next morning, you woke up desperately searching for pain relief and didn’t know if you were going to be able to make it to the ward before your knees would collapse on themselves. You were shaking and dizzy, out of your mind with agony and walking to the bathroom felt like the most intensive workout you have ever done. You peered up at yourself in the mirror and were scared at the eyes watching you, rabid and wild, like an injured animal waiting to lash out. It was too much for you to bear, and before you could even think or rationalise, you felt your fingers curl into a fist and make contact with the cold glass of the mirror, shattering in dozens of pieces, and it made you weirdly happy to have a visual representation of how your soul felt. The instant pain of the all the wounds the smash caused also gave you a weird sense of euphoria, and you realised it was taking away from the pain in the rest of the body, which was only able to focus on one agonising sensation at a time. This felt like a kiss by comparison, and you knew then you could go on a little longer, you could continue with the rest of the day.

Norm came bursting through the door at the loud crash.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

You came out of your bathroom, blood dripping all over the floor as you made your way to the bed, sitting down on it.

“Leave, Norm.”

“What?”

“Leave.”

“What the hell has gotten into you recently. you are rude and brash, and you hurt people’s feelings with no remorse. This isn’t you.”

“What the hell do you know about me, Norm?” you say, laughing bitterly.

“Ace, stop.”

“You don’t know anything, Norm.” you kept going, the fury and hurt getting the best of you, once again, your need to destroy everything in your path as a way to cope with your own heartbreak winning by a landslide.

“Did you know I have needed pills to sleep and to live a normal day-to-day life since I was 13? I have been slowly depleting our sleeping pill and benzodiazepines inventory and replacing it with multivitamin pills I found in one of the drawers. I mean thank God none of you suffer from anxiety or panic disorder or need help sleeping cause I would have been busted so long ago.”

You laughed mockingly at his shocked face, jaw so close the floor now you could trip on it on your way out.

“Did you know I am about a week and a half away from dying after I accidentally smashed a vial of infected blood and got it in my mouth?”

You stand corrected, you think now his jaw was close enough to the floor to trip on it.

“Did you know I have upgraded from a pill addiction to a full blown opioid addiction in order to not collapse on the floor in excruciating pain because of the way this virus is eating at my insides? Yeah, yeah, that’s right. We’re almost out of a whole vial of morphine after I injected it in my veins every day for a while now.”

He had no words. “That’s about right.”

“I do know one thing you do know, though. You know that Neteyam had his mate announcement ceremony that day I took off. You were there to see the two love birds announce their love and pledge their commitment to each other the one day I was not there. And that’s why you were acting shifty. You know about that. And somehow you forgot to tell me, every day, for weeks. How does that work out, Norm, hmm?”

“I felt so bad for snapping at you a couple of days ago. I felt like a horrible fucking person for hurting your feelings. I should have been watching my back, instead.”

You got up from your bed and started walking towards the door.

“If I were you I would not linger in a room with poisoned blood dripping on the floor for too long.”

You found some paper towels at the side of your bed and wrapped them around your bleeding, pained hand, and with that, you left.

After you upped the morphine you usually took, you went to the lab and prepped a hood for some more experiments. Work was a good way to get your mind off things, to mindlessly do something that had a purpose other than driving you to the brink of insanity.

You heard a loud banging noise coming from the entrance, and you had a sneaking suspicion you knew who it was. You heard Norm open the door.

“Is she here?”

“Yeah, but Neteyam, I think you should go. She’s not in a good place, and I really don’t think doing this will end well for either of you.”

“I don’t care, I have to talk to her, I have been looking for her for 3 fucking days.”

You heard the door to the lab slide open and hissed at the man you knew would be trying to come in, realising hissing in a human body doesn’t have nearly the same effect.

“Get the fuck out, Neteyam. This is a sterile room.”

“I don’t fucking care about the room, Atan. Where the fuck have you been? Please come out so we can talk.”

You threw your head back and laughed, really laughed.

“You really are delusional if you think there is any way in heaven and hell I would want to hear anything you have got to say. The time for talking was a couple months ago, Neteyam. The time for talking was the first day I got my Avatar body, where in addendum to telling me you own my ass now, you could have also sprinkled in the fact your are now mated with someone else.”

“I am not mated with anyone, for fuck’s sake. Just come out so we can talk, please. I will explain everything, please!”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, for the first time since that day. He looked exhausted, anguished. Deep purple bags under his eyes, that were burning red where the whites should be. He has been crying. Good, you thought. He looked panicked and miserable and desperate for you to give him the time of day, for you to allow him to explain the unexplainable.

You sighed and your heart constricted in pain. Neteyam will not be happy until there was nothing left of you, until he took everything from you. At the same time, you were curious, morbidly curious as to what has actually happened, what led to this moment. You knew he loved you. You knew that much, but it didn’t seem to matter in this moment, as he broke your heart for what felt like the thousandth time in your short life.

“Go to the clearing, I’ll come when I’m ready.”

You half considered just leaving him there to wait, abandoning him just he did to you. You finished splitting your cells and treating them, and in about an hour, you went into the linkpod and took your Avatar for a walk in the woods. You reached the clearing shortly, as it was close enough that even child you could do it without getting too far away from the building.

You saw him standing there, his back turned to you and his legs submerged in the river that was rushing violently downstream. It was a cold day, and rain was trickling down your body like shivers from a kiss. There was tension in the air, and you knew a storm was coming. You could practically feel the charge in the atmosphere, and were expecting thunder to start any minute now, ready to mirror the agony in your soul.

“I’m here.”

He didn’t speak for a while. Just stood looking at the river, deep in thought.

“So many of our moments throughout the years happened here. Remember when I taught you to swim in the river? Now, in retrospective, that was a bad idea since the water kept taking you away, to the point I had to wait at the end so I could catch you in my arms, like you were a baby.”

You winced at the memory. You thought you could do this. You felt numb in that lab, numb on the way here, but as soon as your eyes focused on him, tears starting pooling in your eyes and pain overtook your body, that you tried to counteract by wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. He’s caused you so much hurt, so much grief in the years he’s known you. But he was also at the forefront of most of your happiest memories. You could fill endless manuscripts with the beauty of his love, that shone so brightly over you your whole life. He was the light in all the darkness and you honestly didn’t think you would have survived this journey without him.

That is why this hurt so much, why your body was convulsing on itself in insurmountable grief. And also why you owed him this much. Owed him this conversation, and the right to explain his point of view, that you were still unfamiliar with.

“I remember. I remember even at the time, thinking this was a good metaphor for our relationship. Life kept sweeping me off my feet, but you were always there to catch me, before it could take me away. I had so much faith in you back then, you were a fact of life, like the eclipse. You were the one person in this world I thought would never hurt me.”

“Fuck, Y/N, all I did before I left is hurt you.”

“What are you talking about?” You were confused at the turn this conversation took. What did he mean? You couldn’t recall a single time Neteyam hurt you before you left. Sure, you would fight and bicker sometimes, but it was a normal part of any relationship, you thought. And he always made it up to you, would always come to the lab and sit with you with flowers he collected or trinkets he found in the woods, always holding you and kissing your forehead to make sure you were over it before he had to leave. Fighting with him was ironically one of your favourite things, because you knew the aftermath was the closest you ever felt to being in heaven.

“I almost fucking killed you. Or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten how I manipulated you into getting on top of an ikran when you were just a 13 year old human and almost watched you die? Have you forgotten I took you to the woods and raced you to your dad’s remains? I was a walking magnet for disasters in your life and I was tired, so fucking tired of watching your life fall apart all around me. I had to watch you learn to walk again, limp because of my actions, for years. I had to pull you out of flashbacks and nightmares you developed because of ME. You were always fine in the woods with Lo’ak or Kiri, but everything bad that has happened to you happened around me.”

He was crying, panting and angry, at himself or you or the universe, you couldn’t tell.

“I thought that if I left, you would be ok. I just wanted to protect you. My whole life, all I have wanted was for you to be ok. But it seems no matter what I do, I keep fucking up.”

You had no words to speak as you lay there, listening to him letting you in to a secret you have spent so many months agonising over. The reason for his departure haunted you for a year and a half, even when you refused to think about him, about it, it was there, constantly emerging from the depths of your subconsciousness, taunting you in your dreams. Why? Why? Why?

Because he wanted to protect you?

You didn’t have time to process all of this new information, before he continued.

“The night you found your dad, I was shaken to my core, in a way I have never truly been before. I was so heartbroken, for you and for myself, for knowing this will haunt you for the rest of your life. I went home and mother found me, and told me that maybe I can’t help you in the way I’ve always wanted. That maybe it’s better for you that I remove myself for a while and leave you room to breathe and heal. So I did. It took me a long time to get the strength to do it. Every time I thought today is the day, I would see you and you would smile at me, and we would sit on your bed and you would read to me or play me songs or just be there, just you and me, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You were everything to me, my light in all the darkness.

A year later, you sang me the song and you were smiling at me singing it, and I knew you were confessing feelings we have both felt for years and couldn’t say out loud. And I knew that if I stayed, whatever we had would escalate past the point of no return. If I stayed, that would be it. And that’s when I decided. I thought I was doing us both a favour. I knew it would hurt you, just as much as it hurt me, but I thought the pain would subside in time.”

You were crying now, you realised, tears falling silently and effortlessly down your face, with no intention to ever stop, instantly washed away by the pouring rain. There were no sounds, no sobs or wails, or panted breaths, just the sounds of rain and hopeless, soft cries and muffled sniffles, for the man in front of you, for all that you have lost, for the past you shared and the future that you would never have.

He got up from where he stood and turned around to face you. He walked towards you until he was so close to you could feel his breath on your face. His stare made goosebumps appear on your entire body, so earnest and desperate, so full of intensity for the words he was trying to convey to you.

“It didn’t.” He said, at the same time you thought the same words in your mind.

“A few years ago, mother and father told me I would one day have to find a mate. They knew and I knew it was expected of me, but I always put it off, so they eventually dropped it. I learnt later they both knew about us, so they didn’t push me into anything until they felt I was ready. A few months after they realised I decided to leave, they started bringing it up again. I didn’t want to hear it, but they said it was time, as I had refused for years longer than what was acceptable in the clan. I met with so many girls, all from good families, all healers in training, all wrong. Beautiful girls, smart girls, skilled healers and singers, and it was like looking at the grey walls of your lab. I felt nothing, I felt sick just thinking about it, like just the thought would be betraying the memory of our bond. Eventually, I told them they can decide. Grandma can decide whatever she thinks is best, and, as Tsahik, I would listen to her voice and wisdom, and do my duty to the clan. She chose Tiongli. I knew her growing up, and we were friendly, so I tried to make an effort. I would go to her tent, and she would show me her training sometimes, I would let her heal my wounds and imagined it was your hands touching me instead. I visited her family and paid my respects, and had dinner with them whenever they invited me. I hoped in time, I could learn to care for her, to lessen the distaste in my mouth whenever my family or the clan talked about the future, about the ceremony, about the life I was supposed to lead that I hated even the thought of.

And then, one day, my dad sent me to get Lo’ak from the lab. I was so scared of knowing I would have to see you again. It had been so long, and so many feelings gnawed at me on the walk there, terror and anxiety, guilt and longing. But then I saw you, and there was only one feeling: love. Like no time had passed at all. I knew then I was going to love you for the rest of my life, and that will never change. That was my fact of life, my eclipse.”

He slowly took your face in his hands, and his thumb was caressing your cheek trying to wipe the tears and raindrops that were falling mercilessly. You saw his face slowly getting closer to yours, and you knew you should pull away, you should remove yourself from his grasp before the kiss was going to remove the last ounce of happiness from you. You knew what you had to do, knew that no matter what information or answers or justifications he would give you today, they wouldn’t matter. You should pull away, because there is no future, no hope. But you couldn’t. You didn’t know what waited for you in the afterlife, but if there was any chance you would have your memories, you wanted this kiss to haunt you forever, to remind you of the life you left behind.

His lips touched yours so gently, it felt like a whisper. Like a hug, tender and warm, it was so different than your first kiss. Tears were still running down your face as your lips moved, entangled with his and begging for more. Your hands went to his chest, to his neck, to his back, just touching him, trying to memorise his body, this feeling. You wanted so much more, you wanted to be his, you wanted to feel him, you wanted him to own you, like he did your heart, which has been his your entire life and will still be his after your death.

You were a mess of wet tangled limbs and panted breaths by the end, and eventually, he broke the kiss to look at you through teary eyes.

“I love you, I will always love you. I am so sorry.”

“I love you, too.”

“But this doesn’t change anything, Neteyam.”

“Thank you, for finally telling me why you left. For giving me some closure for something that has plagued me for so long, it became a constant part of my nightmares. Thank you for having my best interest at heart; it couldn’t have been easy to leave, if you didn’t want to, it took a strong heart to do something that hurt you for what you thought was the lesser evil. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“You left me. You broke me. And you never gave me a chance to make my own decisions. To figure out for myself what was the path forward. I have NEVER blamed you for my misfortunes. The ikran ride is still a beautiful memory to me. You made it a beautiful memory. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, we probably would have both died at the hands of Toruk. You saved my life, Neteyam. You carried me home and stayed with me while I was having surgery, you stayed with me after, while I recovered. You pulled me out of the worst panic attack I have ever had when I found my dad, and you rode out so many of my flashbacks, I have lost count. You weren’t the cause or the common denominator of these events, I was. I am the one plagued by misfortune and hurt and death. Not you. And if you tell me you had to leave to save your own peace of mind, I would respect that. I don’t know anyone in this world who can take this, take me and all the shit that follows me everywhere I go. I don’t blame you.

But if you tell me that you did this for me, that I can’t accept. I didn’t ask for any of this. You gave me no choice, and no say in this relationship, in our shared life. You just left. I deserved better than that. And I deserved better than to find out about a mate after months of lies and manipulation and deceit. I don’t care. I don’t care if you are going to say that you didn’t want it, or you were going to undo it, or that you’ve always loved me and never her. I don’t care. You lied to me, you manipulated me. You accused me of fucking your brother as you were promised to another woman that you hid from me for months. I do blame you for that, and I will never be able to forgive you.”

“Please, Atan…I will tell her no. I will tell her -.” he was sobbing now, his hands still on your face, pleading.

“No.” you slowly took his hands in yours and removed them from your face.

“I think you should do it, Neteyam. She is a good girl, she will make a good Tsahik, and a good mate. Your mother was right, there is no future here - there never was. I love you, so much. But I think you have broken my heart one too many times. I am done.”

You turned your back and walked away from him and the life that was lost - forever.

You were completely soaked when you arrived in the lab, and you went straight to the Avatar laying room and cried. Cried until it felt like no more tears could possibly come out of you. You cried yourself to sleep and then cried in the pod, on the way to your bedroom, and in bed until your human body eventually collapsed from exhaustion. You cried in your dreams, in which Neteyam was kissing you and touching you, doing all the things you were silently begging him to in your mind just a few hours ago.

Eventually, nightfall came, and you had to get up to do the rest of your experiments and top up your analgesic. Ironically enough, you were making real progress on your work. You found a combination therapy that was showing incredible potential in slowing the virus down. It wasn’t enough to stop and eradicate it, but it was enough to give people more time and hopefully give the scientists more time to find a cure. It wouldn’t help you, but maybe you could still help others.

At some paint through the night, as you were making up some reagents, Norm bursts through the door holding a bunch of equipment and some pills, you realise. He puts them down on the bench behind you and speaks.

“Right, stop whatever you are doing, right now.”

“I am in the middle of something.”

“I don’t fucking care. Stop, now.”

You were taken aback at his words and attitude. Norm never got mad, or lost his composure. He was so most well balanced person you knew.

You put the pipette gun down and turned around to face him.

“I still need to adjust the pH on this.”

He ignored you while he prepared the myriad of little gadgets he brought with him. He motioned for you to take off your lab coat, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but did as you were told regardless. You were too tired to argue anymore.

He raised the sleeves of your top until they couldn’t go any further up your arm and put a blood pressure monitor on you. You felt tension as its sleeve tightened around you painfully, but eventually it gave out with a puff, and you heard beeping as the machine finished its reading. You looked to your right where the monitor lay, and saw red lights flashing, letting Norm know your blood pressure and pulse were dangerously low. His eyes widened slightly at the sight, but he held his composure, removing the gadget from around your arm and putting it away. He then read your oxygen levels, which you saw were constantly dabbling between 89 and 90%. Not good, you thought. No wonder you could barely breathe anymore. Norm cursed silently under his breath, trying to not let you see him, but if there was one thing you were good at, it’s reading people. Well, you thought you were, at least.

“Did you do any tests on your blood? How is your complete blood count looking?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why the fuck not, Ace? It’s not like you don’t know how to do it.”

He was angry, really angry. You’ve never seen Norm this angry, you’ve never seen Norm acting this way towards you.

You just shrugged. With a huff of annoyance, he took your arm and prepared a needle and syringe to collect some blood. He gulped and you could see tears forming in his eyes when he looked at the violet bruises and needle holes that were plastered along the length of your brachial vein.

“Just didn’t get around to it.”

“You didn’t - Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“What medicine have you been taking? Did you take the Relenta, or the combination therapy we have been working on?”

“Neither.”

You swear you saw Norm’s entire body enter a catatonic state and he turned so red you were worried he was going to release steam out of his ears.

“You have been sick for a month and did not take anything, none of the treatments we have been working on?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, finding comfort in the pattern of the tiles on the floor.

“I can’t believe you. I didn’t peg you for someone who would just throw their life away meaninglessly. Your mum had to die because we didn’t have a way to treat her illness, and here we are, with a solution that YOU came up with for your own illness, and you will just not even try?”

You were quiet, not really having a way to rebut his questions.

“Fine. We will start you on the combination treatment tonight and take it from there. There’s other things we haven’t tried yet and I’m sure -“

“NO.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m not letting you fucking die.”

“Why must you always fucking try to fix everything, Norm? Some things can’t be fixed. I don’t want the fucking pills. I am done. I want this to be done.”

“So you’ll just die? Is that what you’re saying? You want to die, and not even fucking TRY to see if there is more to this life. Goddamn it, Y/N. I thought having the Avatar would help you realise life is worth living, there’s beauty in this world beyond the walls of this lab. You got your first kill, you did the Iknimaya, you’re going to become one of the people. Don’t you want to see what your future holds? Don’t you want to live to see yourself grow up? Fall in love, start a family. There are more guys in this world than just Neteyam.”

You gave Norm a dirty look and got out of the lab.

Neteyam felt his whole body reel after your conversation. It didn’t change anything, he thought bitterly. He thought explaining it to you, allowing to see that he had good reasons for his actions would allow you to forgive him, to at least allow him the opportunity to make it up to you through time. You left, just like he had so long ago, but there was a finality to you that he didn’t feel then. Back then, he always had hope that a miracle would still be possible, one in which you got an Avatar, healed and loved him, forever. He wanted to love you forever, but his apology and explanations were not enough.

He lost you, again.

He spent the night flying on his Ikran, just flying and letting the rain soak his thoughts and hurt away. He just wanted to disappear. He wanted the rain to melt his bones until there was nothing left of him but the memory of happier times.

In the early hours of the morning, he made it back to the village, trying to hide his cried out eyes and calamitous grief. He was dreading having to talk to his parents, to explain to them what happened, to have to go through with Tiongli and this future he didn’t want and will have to suffer through for the rest of his life. He didn’t have time to worry about it too much though, because, as he managed to get to the tent’s entrance, he heard Norm’s voice and his dad’s, intertwined with his grandma’s voice rising above them.

“It won’t work. Eywa will not allow her to come back.”

“Why not? She has taken her Iknimaya, she has completed her kills, she has spent her entire life in the village’s service, trying to help the best way she knew how. If she doesn’t deserve this, who does?”

“It’s not that she doesn’t deserve it. It’s that she doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want this, Norm. The Great Mother will not transfer the conscience of someone with no future.”

“But maybe if this happened, she will realise that she wants to live. Once she’s rid herself of her weak body, of this disease, maybe she will -“

“The Great Mother’s word is final. She will die, because she wants to die.”

Mo’at’s voice rang in his ears so hard he thought his eardrums would pop.

She doesn’t want it.

She will die.

What were they talking about? Who would die?

No… it couldn’t be. No, the Great Mother wouldn’t be so cruel.

He didn’t wait to hear the rest of the conversation, running as fast as his feet could carry him back to the lab. He reached soon enough, he was faster than most other people in the village, and started knocking on the door of the lab with all his might.

“Y/N, OPEN UP, I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE!”

Eventually, Max came to the door, through which Neteyam burst without consideration for the tiny human next to him.

“She’s not in, Neteyam. She left before any of us had a chance to say anything.”

“Was she in her Avatar body?”

“No, the body is in the den where they sleep.”

He didn’t bother thanking the man, as he turned on his heel and started running again. She was there, had to be.

It was still raining, the clouds relentless as they released drops that poured gently down his face and body, and Neteyam thought the Great mother was crying, mourning the love being washed away like a pebble in the river of the clearing, just like he was.

You were there, of course you were. A current shocked Neteyam at the sight of you. This was the first time he has seen your human body in months, and he found it hard to reconcile the image of you he has known all his life with this current one. You were incredibly thin, so thin, whereas a few months ago he could trace your muscles, he could now trace your bones. You were pale, almost ashen, and the hair that he once spent so long admiring was now brittle and dull, obvious even as it was, wet and clinging to your back. You looked lifeless. He felt a lump form in his throat and tears pool in his eyes that were still not dry from all the pain this day has brought.

You didn’t notice him yet, your human ears much less sensitive than your Avatar, so you were just sitting on the riverbank with your chin resting on your knees, which were brought to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. You were looking at the water, and it was like you weren’t actually there. You were in your own world, far from here, from this hurt.

“I was going to ask if it was true, what I heard Norm talk about in the tent today, but I think you’ve answered my question.”

Neteyam saw you flinch, and it felt like even that brought your weak frame pain. You were trembling when you looked at him, and your face made his own drop in shock. Your beautiful features, the blush in your cheeks, the glimmer in your eye, the pink of your lips, your animated expressions or raised eyebrows, were all gone. Your eyes looked glossed over and numb, your face looked ghostly and sunken, and Neteyam swore he could trace every blood vessel on your forehead and neck. The sight of you made whatever happiness or hope he had left dissolve and trickle down his bones, until it reached the ground where it was eventually buried, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think I could make myself any clearer, Neteyam.”

“tell me it isn’t true. Tell me he’s lying; he’s making it up.”

“What part?”

“All of it.” Neteyam was angry now, trying to contain the temper rising in his chest.

“Tell me you’re not dying.”

“Norm has a big fucking mouth.”

“Can you for once in your fucking life just answer a question? This is fucking serious!”

You winced at his words, then struggled to get up, but did eventually and fully face him. The state of you hit him like bullets, piercing and scraping at his every organ, leaving bleeding wounds behind.

“It’s true”.

Crack, crack, crack.

“When?”

“The night you gave me the guitar. I was so busy being in love with you I forgot to put the proper protection on, and I smashed a bottle of infected blood. It got in my mouth, in my nose.”

“I thought you were working on a cure.”

“Haven’t found it yet.”

“But you said you have something that kind of works, something to give people more time.”

“I’m human, it doesn’t work that way for us.”

“So, you’ve tried.”

You weren’t looking at him anymore, just staring at the ground in front of you, somewhere next to Neteyam’s feet.

“Tell me you have fucking tried.”

It thundered aggressively as Neteyam said that, and he saw you once again tremble at the loud sound. You have never been a jumpy person. You were the bravest person he knew. You were the strongest person he knew. It was unspeakable having to watch you now, sitting meekly in front of him, when just a few days ago you took the Iknimaya, taking the climb to the toughest tests known to the Omatikaya, doing it like it was nothing, just another day for you. To know that this is what was hiding underneath, this is what you hid from all of them, made him both impossibly miserable and strikingly enraged at the same time.

“TELL ME YOU HAVE TRIED.”

“NO, OKAY?? NO, I HAVEN’T FUCKING TRIED.” You were sobbing now, your tears washed away by the rain and wind as soon as they fell down your cheeks.

“Why?”

“Because I am tired. I want this to end.”

“I thought you were happy. I thought you were better. You seemed better in the Avatar.”

“I was better… in the Avatar. Because that wasn’t my life. That was just a beautiful dream, while my life was the never-ending nightmare. It was easy to pretend in that body. It was easy to be the version of myself everybody wanted me to be. But I have to live with the real me every night. And I don’t want to do it anymore.” The more you cried, the more Neteyam’s blood boiled in his veins.

“That’s such fucking bullshit.”

“You know what I think?”

“I think dying is fucking easy. It’s your easy way out.”

You looked up at his much larger frame incredulously, and he saw how your mood was starting to mirror his own.

“What did you just say? You think this is fucking easy for me?”

“Yes, I think it is. I think all you’ve done since your mum has died is take the easy way out. Put everything and everyone in your little bottom desk drawer, keeping everyone at a distance. Do you know how much mother and father suffered every time you refused to come out, to come to the village? My mother cried herself to sleep at the thought of you alone in that lab, at the thought that you preferred that soulless, empty place to her, to us. Did you know that?

You have not once opened that drawer, not once dealt with anything. All you do is numb yourself down, pretend you are fine and the issues you have suffered through do not exist. Well guess fucking what, Atan? They exist. And until you deal with that pain and let it pass over you and through you, you will always take the easy way out.

You have made me feel like the worst person in the world, for leaving, for lying to you. But what the fuck have you done, huh? You lied to me about dying, for weeks! About dying! What, was I supposed to find you dead one day and that was it? That was what I deserved from you, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you? You said I took your choice away. You wouldn’t have even given me a choice to say goodbye to the love of my life before you fucking died!

I left you for a year because I wanted to protect you, you are leaving permanently because you refuse to fucking deal with the pain and hurt I know you feel deep down inside. You had a choice. You could have come to the many people who love you, love you unconditionally, and told us, and let us in, and let us help you. You could have gotten help, taken the pills, fight your damn hardest to make this work, to find a cure, for the life your mum gave you, the life she would have to watch you throw away. You have a choice now. To want to live, to want to fight through this and come out the other side a new, better person. To let me love you, let people love you. To do the consciousness transfer and be with me, and be happy, forever. And you’re choosing this.

You are a coward.”

Neteyam turned on his heel and walked away, before he got a chance to see you collapse on the ground, giving your last few breaths in the place he used to imagine both of your children laying in his arms peacefully while you sang them to sleep.

Tag list (I hope I didn't miss anyone, thank you so much for asking to be tagged <3): @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @inomoikawa @jackiehollanderr @jaysarchiv3 @meivap @dakotali @hlhl99 @eskamybeloved @erenjaegerwifee @winchestertitties

#neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #loak reader #avatar loak

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ltrllynbdy · 7 months

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So a few years ago I bought this trilogy called captive prince but after reading a few chapters of the first book I kind of gave up on it. I normally don't have a problem with exploring darker themes in a story but captive prince in particular was unenjoyable for me at that time

Later, I was bored with nothing much to do, so I decided to check my bookshelves, found captive prince and started reading and boy I am so glad that I did! I finished the books in a few days and proceeded to read all the short stories.

First of all, before I get to praise the book, I want to say my main criticism about the books: "the slavery stuff in the first book is badly written". Don't get me wrong, Captive prince does not glorify slavery like some haters suggest. I'm not exactly opposed to writing slavery in fiction and there are many political/historical fictional stories that have main characters trying to abolish slavery. It's a common theme.

Captive prince is not much different from the main character ,Damen ,who used to be a slaver himself, gets turned into a slave and tries to abolish it by the end of the series.

It's a fine idea on surface level but there's one big problem with it , I'd like to call it the "Erasmus problem". The first book of captive prince heavily suggested that there were slaves like Erasmus who liked to have a master and I want to believe it's Damen being biased and bigoted because of his privileged upbringing but the story itself still falls apart. There are also instances where sexual slavery becomes apparent and uncomfortable. So if any of these bothers you like it bothered me, the first book of CP is definitely not for you.

OK now for the positives:

From the second book onward, this trilogy becomes a masterpiece.

This story is truly an enemy to love. Most of the other enemies to lovers stories that I have read are just characters either having a simple rivalry or a petty misunderstanding. They dislike each other because one character ignored the other when they were kids , or because they are simply on a different sports team. Captive prince does not shy away from giving the main characters good and logical reasons to hate each other and even hurt each other to an extreme for great and understandably human reasons. They have hurt each other a lot and have no business ever falling in love and still somehow manage to grow and understand and develop something special and unique and I think it's beautiful.

The slow burn: The romance starts only after the entire first book (in which they just hate each other) and most of the second book (where they get to know and understand each other), it's not the slowest burn I've ever read but for a book with characters like these two, it's necessary. and well written

Captive prince's author is extremely brave in making the first book and one of the main characters deliberately hateable with a seemingly unreliable narrator: I don't think I've ever read a story where I hate the first book and enjoy the rest. First impressions are very important and when people don't like an entire first book they probably wouldn't try to continue. I have no idea how and why this author managed to make people still invested enough to publish the second and third book but I'm glad that it happened. It was so enjoyable reading the story from one character's perspective and going from absolutely hating the other character to loving him and understanding him. with the unreliable narrator that is Damen.

The world building, writing and the political story: This may not be the greatest political story with the greatest worldbuilding I've ever read but considering the genre that is m/m romance, I think it's excellent. Let's face it, it's not common for m/m romance to do worldbuilding and politics well. I don't want to seem mean but I've read a decent amount of books and m/m romance and very few of them were actually satisfying to me in terms of politics. Captive prince was one of the rare gems. There might be a few plot holes for me here and there but seeing the characters struggle with each other and plan things out , helping each other or getting fooled by each other in a romance story focusing on mostly only two characters was great to see. I also found some aspects of Homonormativity in the world hilarious. Unless you are married, you are not allowed to be straight in Vere because they hate bastards lol

Despicable villain: This story has the worst and most hateable villain I've ever read in an m/m story. This again goes back to the author being brave enough to write the story the way it is since a lot of romance writers don't dare tackle some really darker aspects.

Subversion of Tropes and Exploration of Power Dynamics : This one was a little hard for me to put into words but basically the series delves into power dynamics in relationships, politics, and society, offering nuanced portrayals of domination, submission, and consent and I don't necessarily mean sexually. In most romance stories, whenever character 1 goes to character 2's kingdom as a lover or sex slave (usually character 1 is the female character in a straight romance) you'd almost always see them have one specific power dynamic. In Captive prince, their characters and their dynamics clashes and changes rapidly and as the story goes on, Damen as a king becomes almost equal to Lauren (I would argue he even becomes politically more powerful than Laurent during certain parts of the story considering Laurent remains a prince for the most part but I digress)

Flawed and human characters who hurt each other without actually romanticizing toxicity: One thing that some people criticize about captive prince and I disagree with, is that it has a toxic relationship. I have to mention that there's basically no actual relationship between the characters until the end of the story and when they do get into a relationship they are a very sweet couple. I think people call them toxic because they were flawed and literal enemies who hurt each other because of it but that's not what I call toxic. Toxicity implies that them being together (they were not together) poisons their life. Both characters manage to grow and understand each other. Damen in particular is a character who you don't see his flaws at first but it becomes more evident how privileged and naive he was and he changes a lot as well as Laurent.

Overall I think excluding the slavery aspects of book 1 which are badly written, this story hits the mark of everything I need in a romance book and I just needed to talk about it. Thanks for coming to my ted talk!

#captiveprince #Captive prince #damen x laurent #laurent de vere #damianos of akielos #damen of akielos #Damen #Laurent #Book review #lgbtq #Prince gambit #kings rising #c s pacat #lamen #Capri #prince's gambit

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dbnightingale24 · 1 year

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Love Me or Just Let Me Go

A Jonathan Crane Love Story

Look who's back and trying to find her footing again 🙃 sorry for the delay, but between my mental health and personal life, things weren't going well and I needed a break. ANYWAY, I'm back with a new series (as well as ready off a few others), and I hope you all enjoy it! I really missed posting.

Just in time for Halloween, Dr. Jonathan Crane. I just figured (as I start to branch out) it's time to write about my favorite Scarecrow. I'm sorry this is so damn long (I really am), but I hope you all enjoy it! Since Tumblr is still on its bullshit, I can only post part of it here, but the full post will be on AO3 (I'll leave the link). As always, thank you @fuckingbye for the amazing moodboard. I love you!

Word Count: 56,703 (I said I was sorry)

Warnings: SMUT (Minors DNI), Swearing, Drinking, Degrading Kink, Car Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smoking, Arguing, Family Drama, Angst, Mentions of Abuse, Fluff (ish), Childhood Trauma, Self Hate, Revenge, Loneliness, Trust Issues, Mental Health (or lack thereof)...I think I handled everything?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: Man, You Make It Easy For Me. So, Why Can't I Make You Love Me?

I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this kind of behavior or relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

“Doctor Crane,” you smile sweetly as your favorite patron makes his way to the counter.

Your smile may be sweet, but you know your eyes show the same thing they always do whenever he shows up: pure desire and lust. The coy smile he always returns lets you know that he’s very well aware of the effect he has on you.

Effect.

“Same as always?”

“Coffee, black, please,” he smiles as he pulls out his wallet.

“New admittance at Arkham?” you ask, turning and starting on his second usual

At least three times a month, he orders a black coffee.

“No, but it is late night for work.”

“When isn’t it in Gotham?” you scoff, placing the lid on his drink.

“How about you?” he asks, handing you a twenty.

“What about me?”

“Another late night?”

“I’m the only one brave enough to close the store, so yeah. I always have a late night,” you laugh softly, taking his money while typing the amount into the register.

“Gotham doesn’t scare you?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve met my Mother already, and I witnessed what drove her to madness, because I saw my Father’s death, so no. Gotham doesn’t scare me.”

“Your Mother...” he trails off as he looks you over, “Y/M/N?”

“I’m surprised you’re just figuring it out,” you laugh handing him back his change. “Everyone always said I look just like her, but I’m guessing the piercings, dyed hair, and tattoos have changed my appearance a bit.”

“Your Mother is quite the character.”

“You’re putting it nicely.”

“Keep it,” he says, gently pushing your hand back.

“The coffee was only two dollars.”

“Your company is always worth much more than that,” he laughs. “If you don’t mind me asking, how were you able to handle it so well?”

“If I tell you that, there will be no reason for you to come around for your afternoon tea, will there? Besides, you’ve got a late night of work ahead of you, and I’ve got ungrateful customers to tend to,” you smirk, cocking an eyebrow.

“Guess I’ll just have to ask again tomorrow.”

“Play your cards right and you may just get an answer,” you shrug and he laughs.

“You have a good night, Y/N.”

“You too, Dr. Crane.”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan Crane,” you smile as he grabs his coffee, nods, and walks away.

And just like that, he was gone. It’s the same conversation every day, today a little more telling just because he knows a bit (or a lot depending on how you look at it) about you. It’s always the same amount of small talk, flirty eye on your part, and him looking as if he’s interested but knows better. Smart on his part.

Sure, he deals with crazies, but he’s never dealt with you.

For the rest of the evening, you live in the feeling of that little exchange. Yeah, the man looks like he can’t carry a bookcase, but you know it’s all an act. You’re not dumb. You’ve heard whispers about Dr. Jonathan Crane, and most of it isn’t pleasant. It’s most definitely in your best interest to stay away, especially considering that your Mother is a patience at his place of work, but you can’t stop yourself. Beside, you live in Gotham.

It’s not like you have a ton of “good guys” to choose from.

You can’t pin down exactly what draws you to him, but you know that you can’t turn it off. You’ve tried multiple times. From the first time you laid eyes on him, you wanted him. No, you needed him, in the most unnatural way. Maybe it’s from living in Gotham all your life but, for whatever reason, you feel a sense of security when he comes in.

Yeah, you’ve definitely been in Gotham for too long.

“You’re sure you’re okay to close up all by yourself?” your co-worker Michael asks as he grabs his backpack off of the coat rack, while the last customer scurries out.

“I do it every night, Mike,” you scoff, wiping down the counter. “Get home safe.”

“Ya know, working with you is hard,” he sighs and you start laughing. “What?! It’s true! You’re the only one ever willing to close up shop-”

“It gives me a thrill,” you smirk with a cocked eyebrow. “Go home and tell Josh that you fought off a mugger, if it’ll help your ego.”

“He’d kill me if I ever tried to stop crime from happening,” he laughs softly. “You sure you’re okay, babe?”

“I promise. Get home safe.”

“You too,” he nods before walking out.

You lean against the counter, pull out your phone, and scroll through all the evening news you’ve missed.

Another raping, another stabbing, another kidnapping....it’s all just another day in Gotham. You don’t even bother to look up when you hear the front door open and close.

“If you want coffee, you’ve come to the right place. If you want anything else, I’m afraid you’re in the wrong damn shop,” you mumble as an article about Arkham Asylum catches your eye.

You may not see your Mother often, but that doesn’t mean you don’t care about her.

“How about a cup of tea?” a familiar voice asks.

You look up to see Dr. Jonathan Crane standing at the counter, small smile tugging on his lips, but his hair is out of place.

“Rough night, Doc?” you question, pushing yourself up with your foot, making your way over to the kettle and setting it up.

“What makes you say that?”

“Your hair is out of place and there’s a bit of blood on your glasses, and the lapel of your shirt.”

“You’re more observant than I thought.”

“You’ve thought about me?” you tease, pulling out his his favorite tea powder.

Ginseng.

“More than you think.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re a mystery.”

“I’m sure you’ve met far more interesting subjects than me. You’ve already met my Mother.”

“While she is very much a fun case to study, now that I know she’s your Mother, you’re much more...complex.”

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” you laugh, finishing up his drink before pouring it in a to-go cup. “That’s the nicest way I’ve ever been called insane.”

“Far from insane, Y/N. Very far. More like-”

“Troubled?” “Not that either...a to-go cup?”

“You’ve never been one to sit and stay since you started working at the Asylum.”

“A good point. What else do you know about me?”

“Nothing.”

“What else have you heard about me?”

“Things I’m sure you don’t wanna hear about,” you promise, looking him over as you lean against the counter. “No charge. You get home safe.”

“You see blood on my glasses and my shirt, but tell me to get home safe?”

“Who am I to judge?”

“You know, this day has been very telling about you but, at the same time, I feel like I know you less than I did before.”

“If I’m not keepin’ ya guessing, what’s the point of our lovely little chats?”

“Who says that I need these little moments to keep me interested?”

“Show me that you don’t.”

“Have a drink with me and I will,” he smiles coyly, mischief in his eyes.

Every red alarm in your brain goes off, but you’ve never bothered to listen to them before, so why start now?

You poured yourself a cup of coffee and slowly made your way from around the counter, ignoring the the sirens as they grow louder and louder, and sit across from him at the small table.

“Jonathan,” you smile, mischief dancing around in your own eyes as you take a sip of your coffee. “Take your best shot.”

“What do you fear?” he asks with a cocked eyebrow and you scoff. “What?”

“What do you think I fear?”

“I can’t get a read on you.” “That’s fair, I guess,” you shrug, swirling the coffee in your cup around a bit. “I’ll tell you what I fear if you tell me something about you. I’ll know if you’re lying, so don’t try it,” you proposition, meeting his gaze with a devilish glint in your eye.

You really shouldn’t be playing this game.

An evil smirk spreads across his face before he responds with, “I’m the one who created the fear toxin.”

‘Will you stop fucking playing this game?! Tell him you need to get home!’ your brain begs, but you’re just starting to have fun.

You’ve never been good at doing what’s in your best interest.

“That tracks,” you shrug before taking a sip of your coffee.

“It tracks?”

“You work at the Asylum, no one in this city really has a good and clean record-”

“Oh? What’s on your record?”

“I put laxatives in drinks of customers who piss me off,” you tell him nonchalantly and laugh and when he practically chokes on his tea. “What? I don’t seem capable?”

“For some reason, I thought it would be something along the lines of murder.”

“No, I’m afraid the only thing I’ve ever really broken is hearts.”

“Why’s that?”

“I learned very early in life to never get too attached to anyone in Gotham. Never works out well for me.”

“Your parents?”

“Parents, first real love, last serious relationship. I fuck until I’m bored and then I leave.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, but you can’t tell what it is. It’s not disdain or disappointment, but more along the lines of...shock? Confusion.

“So, you have fear of abandonment?” he asks as your timer goes off.

“Well, it’s time for me to close up shop, Dr. Crane,” you smile, getting up making your way back behind the counter with your half full cup of coffee.

“I didn’t take you as someone who’s a liar,” he comments and you don’t miss the irritation in his tone.

“I never said I wouldn’t tell you, I said it’s time for me to close up shop. However, I do like having this effect on you.”

“And what effect is that?”

“Rattling your cage.”

“Oh, you do much more than that, and I think you’ve known that for quite some time.”

“Oh, but Doctor Crane, this is the first time you’ve ever had the balls to court me,” you smirk over your shoulder and he laughs.

“How long does it usually take you to close up shop?”

“As long as I want it to. Why do you ask?”

“Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I figured we could...take a walk around the city.”

“You’re a very confident man, Dr. Crane.”

“No one’s gonna touch me out there.”

“And what on earth would we talk about on this little walk?”

“You.”

“Your obsession with me is cute. I like it a lot.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s an obsession, more like...fascination.”

“And what’s so fascinating about little old me?” you ask, covering the tops of all the different syrups.

“Like I said,” he responds softly right behind you, causing you to jump, “because you’re a mystery.”

Oh, you’re fucking in it now.

You can read the full story here

tags: @autumnrose40

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x oc #scarecrow x y/n #jonathan crane x y/n #Scarecrow Dc

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calmasyoghurt · 3 months

Text

The joker out pride project.

One last chapter, in the form of letters. Also on ao3.

Chapter 30, prompt 27. Future/growing old.

January 4th 2023

My dear Nace. One month ago today I asked you to be my boyfriend. You said yes. It’s one of the best yes’s I’ve heard in my life. It got me the blessing of getting to stay over at your place, the blessing of kissing you good morning and good night, and the blessing of getting your mighty D. Sorry for that last part, but it had to be said. But that yes also got me a new years kiss. A new years kiss sweeter than any I’ve had before. When you pulled away, you didn’t wish me a happy new year, but a happy birthday instead. None of the other new year kisses I’ve had have even known my birthday. But you do, and you made sure to make that the subject of the first words you spoke this year.

One day I might let you know how special you make me feel. One day I might let you read this letter. One day I might tell you that I love you more than anyone I’ve ever loved before. Because I do. Maybe I’m a lovesick idiot, or maybe I’m a sick idiot in love. Either way, I want you in my life for as long as you’ll let me have you.

With love, from Jan.

***

February 3rd 2023

My dear Nace. Yesterday you officially met my parents for the first time. They absolutely loved you. It doesn’t surprise me, it’s quite difficult not to love you. Or maybe that’s just my opinion, seeing how I’m madly in love with you. I told you that yesterday too. Maybe I didn’t use those exact words, but as we were on our way to my parents house I told you that I love you for the first time. Your smile got so big, showing of those adorable dimples. Then you said you love me too and it made my heart melt. You make me so happy. Once again, I want you in my life for as long as you’ll let me have you.

With love, from Jan.

***

June 1st 2023

My dear Nace. Today is the first day of pride month. Today we told the rest of the band that we’re together. Of course, Kris already knew. You knew that Kris knew. I tell him everything about me the second it happens. But he’s a really good secret keeper, he didn’t even tell Bojan. But today we told Bojan and Jure too. They were nothing but happy for us. It would have been weird otherwise, seeing how they’re also in gay relationships with people in the band/crew. I'm so happy for us too. I'm happy that I finally found a guy that I can see a future with. Because I can, I see a future with you Nace. I can see us moving in together, growing old together, maybe even getting married. If we do get married, then I'll give you these letters then. I'll continue to write to you until that day.

With love, from Jan.

***

December 4th 2023

My dear Nace. One year ago today, you woke up and decided that after fucking me three times, you were finally sure that you were gay. You woke me up and told me so before fucking me once more. Just as we were coming down from our orgasms, I asked you to be my boyfriend. I was nervous for no reason, because you said yes. Now we've been together for a year, one of the best ones of my life. Not only because of you, but for the things we've achieved with the band. When we get back home, this time we'll come home to our home for the first time. You've moved in with me, and I couldn't be happier. You weren't spending that much time in your own place anyways. You're now officially my live in partner. I like that.

With love, from Jan.

***

Febuary 19th 2024

My dear Nace. We almost went public with our relationship. Damon took pictures of us, ones of us kissing. We almost posted them, but I got scared. I realised I'm not brave enough to have the entire world know. We're going on tour, and if we would have made it public, everyone would have asked questions I'm not comfortable answering. I hope you understand that. You said you do. I love you so much for always understanding. I love you so much for all the other things too. I want you in my life for as long as you’ll let me have you. Maybe I'll ask you to marry me sometime.

With love, from Jan.

***

December 4th 2024

My dear Nace. I haven’t written a letter like this for a long time. Instead I’ve spend time with the version of you I have right now. The best version of you, the one I’ve had, have, and will have right in front of me. It doesn’t matter if you change, the way you are when we’re alone, together, will always be my favorite version of you. Right now, you’re sleeping in my bed, our bed, and you’re as beautiful as usual. It’s almost weird to think how for the past year, my bed has also been your bed. You, who have been my love for the past two years. I’m looking forward to so many more. Now I'll try to go to bed so that you can wake me up with anniversary-breakfast-in-bed in the morning.

With love, from Jan.

***

June 2nd 2025

My dear Nace. We met your parents yesterday. You were so nervous. I was too, to be honest, but I tried not to let it show. I thought it would be akward, you were scared that they'd change their mind about being in contact. But everything went alright. Maybe they won't be walking a pride parade anytime soon, but at least they want you in their life again. They don't even seem to dislike me, so I'm satisfied with the visit. When we got home you were so happy. I was happy for you. Your family is not only made up of the band anymore, but your parents as well.

With love, from Jan

***

June 20th 2025

My dear Nace. It's been a weird couple of days. We've finally come out publicly. It wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. We all did it together, the entire band. It feels better that way. I wrote in my Instagram post that I've found a boy I'm willing to marry. It's a true statement. For the first time ever I'm sure about wanting to get married. Yesterday I told you me and Kris were going out for coffee. In reality, we went to a jewler so that we both could buy engagement rings. I'll ask you to marry me when we go on vacation in August. I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with you.

With love, from Jan.

***

August 14th 2025

My dear Nace. It's rather comical how it all turned out. We went on a hike today, and I had planned to propose to you by a waterfall. But when we got there, you got to it before I could. You got down on one knee, and asked me to marry you. Of course I said yes. I decided that you couldn't completely steal my idea, so when you'd put the ring on my finger, I pulled my own ring box out of my pocket. By the time I was down on one knee, we were both laughing so much I could barley ask the question. But when I did, you said yes. So, you're officially not my boyfriend anymore. You're my beautiful fiancé who I'll love and cherish forever. I can't wait until we're husbands.

With love, from Jan.

***

May 3rd 2026

My dear Nace. We've managed to plan a wedding in just eight and a half months. Not that it will be a big one, but it has still been hectic. Tomorrow we'll be walking down the isle, together, to become husbands. We'll be getting ready together too. The guys will be there, but I'll make sure to get a moment alone for just the two of us. It's then that I'll give you these letters. I'll give you all of them, and I'll hope you'll like them. Now, one last sleep before you're mine and I'm yours until death do us apart.

With love, from Jan.

***

June 30th 2089

My dear Nace. It's your birthday today. You would have been 95. But you're not here anymore. I got more than 66 years with you, and I couldn't have enjoyed them more. Your smile and laugh could make my entire day better. Your smile was the last expression I ever saw you do. You said 'we'll meet again, soon'. I took your hand and it made you smile. Then you closed your eyes and suddenly you were just gone. I miss you so much, every day. But we'll meet again, soon. I'm not that young myself either, I won't be staying here for too long. Now I will wrap this letter up. Then our lovely granddaughter Sofia will take me to your grave so that I can leave this for you there. The head stone we got is really nice, just the way we said we would have it. My name and date of birth is already on it. They'll just have to add the day I die when they've put me down next to you. At some point we'll be together again. I still love you, so much.

With love, from Jan.

#jan peteh #nace jordan #jance #jo pride project #joker out

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not-a-space-alien · 4 months

Text

K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 6B

Part 6 of the "B side" universe for AU4. You can check chapter 4B for clarification on what this means if you're lost.

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings: Transphobia, unsupportive family relations

***

The hug lasts for an absurdly long time, but they do have to pull away eventually. Liz gives Valen a soft clap on the back. "Whenever you wanna go home, I'll take you over to the border, just like you brought Jim to me. You just focus on resting up and healing, okay?"

Valen curls up in on himself, looking dejected. Go home? He can't just go home. Can he? He is still reeling from this whole experience--and it honestly feels like he'll never be safe again by himself. What does he even have to go back to? He didn't have much before he'd gotten taken, but now, five years later? He isn't even sure what home he'd have to go back to. He would have nothing.

But they had to feed him with their own blood. Of course they'd want him out of their hair as soon as possible. This was probably their polite way of saying they wanted him to leave, right? But they'd just been hugging him, had that just been polite, too?

Trying not to look too pathetic and sad, he picks up the notepad and writes Does it have to be today?

"Okay, first thing, it's not gonna be today no matter what, 'cause you're not healthy enough to get back on your own yet." Jim says. "Second, you don't have to do anything. We just kinda assumed you'd wanna go home. You can stay here with me for as long as you want. I'm happy to have you." He smiles.

Valen almost can't believe what he's hearing. For once he wants to stay, and that's allowed. He writes: Even though you have to feed me? Oh, maybe it'd been presumptuous to assume they'd keep feeding him, since 'feeding' isn't necessarily included in 'letting you stay here.' Too late, though, he'd already showed it to them.

"Of course. Whatever you need, Valen." Jim gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Or maybe you could visit out there to get blood packs. We got options."

"I'm gonna go finish working on the door." Liz gives Valen a little wave before going back to the basement entrance.

"I probably can't make it out here every day, but you can put me on the menu sometimes for sure." Laken says with a wink before going to join Liz.

Valen politely clasps his hands together in front of him and gives a little bow. That's something a person does, right? Instead of just cowering on the floor.

Jim interprets that as a thank you. "You're welcome. I take it you don't really have anyone waiting up at home then, but if you wanna make a phone call, I can like, read out stuff you write down to make it work if you wanna. You know you're not a prisoner here, right?" He thought that should be obvious, considering the door was open all night and Valen could have left at any time, but maybe it needs to be said. "You're- well, I'd like to think we're friends by this point."

Valen's lip wobbles. How had he so quickly gone from leech, parasite, lower than dirt to friend? He wants to hug Jim again, but Jim doesn't want hugs right now, so instead, he folds his legs under him and bows even lower than he had the first time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

"You're all good, buddy. None of this would be possible if you hadn't saved me in the first place. We'd both still be stuck in hell." Jim points out. He reaches a hand out to help Valen up and takes him back over to the couch to rest.

Honestly, the prospect of Valen staying excites Jim. He'd be a lot less paranoid about Kane coming back for him with Valen here, plus he gets lonely. And the thought of Valen going through the pain of recovery alone hurts his heart.

Valen sits on the couch and wraps himself up in the blanket there, watching Liz finish her work on the door curiously, but not bravely enough to go check it out.

Liz and Laken eventually finish, coming back out carrying a lot of silver. "Well, guess we'll be seeing you around then, Valen!" Liz calls happily.

Valen waves with both his hands. His face hurts if he tries to smile, but he hopes he's waving enthusiastically enough to get the point across.

They leave, and Jim puts the TV on to just hang out for a little. After about an hour, he asks, "Are you gonna... be okay? If I head into the kitchen for a bit to make food, you'll still, um, be okay when I get back?" You're not gonna off yourself, right?

It's been a while since Valen has felt this okay. He's fed, and people care about him, and no one is hurting him. Jim was right, everything did feel a lot better after he'd eaten. It no longer feels so insurmountably scary. He nods, and gives a thumbs-up, but then when Jim actually gets up to make lunch, he gets up and follows Jim into the kitchen.

Jim smiles when he notices Valen following him. He decides to make beans and rice, the meal he ate in Valen's house, for old times' sake. Except this time, it's actually good, because he has a stove this time. "Remember when you offered me a bunsen burner to cook with?" he asks with a laugh.

Valen had been excitedly rocking from foot to foot, but he stops when Jim says this. Jim thinks it's funny. That it's ridiculous. He vaguely remembers it. He'd remembered it better before he'd been tortured, because that had made everything before feel so distant, and blurred together. Is it bad that Valen did that? Jim doesn't seem angry, but he is laughing, like it'd been stupid. The hunters laughed at him for a lot of things. Being too weak, being helpless, being stupid, making mistakes. Jim wouldn't punish him for what he's talking about, would he? Jim's not going to punish him. He'd said that. It's just hard to feel that, instead of the constant, pounding anxiety that at any second the pain is going to start again.

He thinks Jim is probably just bringing up a funny memory, but the urge to always interpret things in the worst way possible is too strong. Jim can't possibly just be joking around with his friend, Valen doesn't have friends, only tormenters.

No, that's not right, Jim had said he was a friend.

It's too much, it's too much to decide. He quickly scribbles I'm sorry I won't do it again I'll be good and shows it to Jim, eyes firmly on the floor

Jim's smile turns sad as he reads the note. "Nah, I'm glad you did. It was considerate. It's a good memory."

He remembers when he first got back. He was so jumpy. He used to say stuff like that all the time, after years of Kane hitting him at best and beating him at worst for any show of defiance. "It'll get better. The I-gotta-be-good stuff. It's real bad at first 'cause it's all you've known for years. But you start to get used to being a person again, and it lessens. Never goes all the way away, but it gets good enough. Least in my experience."

Valen wants to make eye contact so, so badly. He hasn't looked Jim, his savior, in the face yet, not even once. But he has to be good. But Jim was just saying about that...

He writes May I look you in the eye?

"Yeah, of course. Look away." Jim had thought Valen was avoiding eye contact due to nerves, he didn't even consider that he might think he's not allowed.

Look away. Oh no, conflicting directions. He averts his eyes, looking away from Jim, whimpering, confused.

Jim is confused for a moment, then realizes his phrasing was bad. "Oh, uh, something-away means to do something. Like, you can look. Sorry, my bad."

Oh, right. Yes, yes of course. It seems so unfair that the humans can just speak willy nilly without even thinking about how they phrase things, when Valen has to parse each syllable for signs of danger.

No, he doesn't have to do that, that's the point.

Valen slowly works his eyes up Jim's body, stopping at his shoulders, hovering there. He forces them to go higher, just briefly flicking them up to Jim's eyes, then immediately letting them fall again. Okay, that's good, that's progress, he looked into Jim's eyes and nothing bad happened, he didn't get accused of trying to use persuasion, he didn't get thrown in the sun.

"There you go. Making progress." Jim spoons his lunch into a bowl. "You've got nice eyes. You don't need to look at the floor all the time." The bright red of Valen's eyes doesn't scare him like the eyes in his nightmares. There's no malicious intent in them.

Nice eyes, he has nice eyes, nice eyes?! He goes beet red, now avoiding eye contact out of sheer embarrassment and being overwhelmed, unable to figure out how to handle the compliment.

You've got nice eyes would have been a prelude to a hunter gouging them out in his old life, but that's far too brutal for Valen to even worry about Jim doing in his imagination.

He makes a choked sound and brings his hands to his face, hiding his reddened cheeks.

Jim tries not to laugh again, worried it might be taken the wrong way. "Sorry, didn't mean to fluster you or anything." He leans against the counter and starts eating.

Valen watches Jim eat with fascination, wondering why he isn't sitting at the table.

Valen thinks about what Jim had said earlier, about making a phone call. He doesn't want to call Priscus, but maybe talking to his parents would be nice. They're probably worried about him.

Valen waits patiently until Jim is finished eating, then holds his hand up to his head to pantomime a phone call.

"Yeah, I can help you make a phone call. Who am I calling and what do you wanna say?" Jim asks, leading Valen over to the phone.

Valen sits down primly next to the phone and writes out his parent's phone number and some instructions.

This is my parents' house.

My mother will probably answer.

Please tell her what happened and where I am. In very general terms. And that I'm alive and safe now.

"Gotcha. Um, I just wanna prepare you, if you've been missing for years and you can't talk to her, she might not believe me. You can always call her back after you can talk again." Jim tells him.

He picks up the phone and dials the number. "Hello? Is this Mrs., uh, Valen's mom?"

"Hm?" says a woman's voice. "Hello? You knew my daughter?"

"Yeah. Um, about that, I know this is gonna sound really hard to believe, but Valen's alive and here with me. Sh-she's recovering from a mouth injury and can't talk right now. Got captured by hunters and hurt a lot, but she's out and safe now. We're in human territory. Valen should be well enough to talk in a couple days, I bet." Jim takes the notepad and writes Not out to mom? while he talks.

Valen rolls his eyes in an exasperated way and writes I came out to her, she's just in denial.

"What?" Valen's mother says. "Oh my god, that sounds just like something she would do. Walk right on into human territory with her arms open to try and give the first human she sees a big old hug. She probably tried to talk nicely to the vampire hunters, I bet." Her voice is dripping with disdain. "She's such a bright girl, but her head is full of such.... unrealistic ideas. Wait...who are you, why are you in human territory? Are you a human hunter, do you work for the blood farms? You should know that she's married, understand?"

Valen groans and lets his head slump.

Jim is speechless for a few moments. "Is that seriously your reaction to learning your kid, who you thought was dead, is alive and finally safe after being locked up for years?" he asks, incredulous.

"Well," she says, suddenly sounding defensive, "she barely ever calls us, I was half convinced nobody could find her because she just finally ran off or something. I don't hear from her for years at a time anyway. Of course I was worried for her, but I've always advised against this reckless behavior precisely because of this. Tell her she's welcome to come home, of course, although she really should simply go back to her husband."

Valen looks so, so tired, resting his head on his hand. He's wondering why he thought this was a good idea

"I don't need to tell him because he can hear you. He's been listening this whole time. And you know what, you're a shitty mom. He deserves better. Valen, you got anything else you wanna say to her?" Jim asks, heated.

Valen shakes his head sadly.

"Who do you think you are?" she says. "I've never been anything but supportive!"

Valen mimes hanging up the phone.

Jim hangs the phone up without another word to her.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Valen. That's... wow." He shakes his head. "With family like that, who needs enemies, y'know?" Jim's eyes shine with tears. He's really upset about Valen being treated this way.

Valen gives a noncommittal shrug. In his mother's mind, not disowning him and not forbidding him to go to college like he wanted to is enough to classify herself as supportive. He taps the pencil, sighs heavily, and writes I'm not sure what I really expected.

"You said you might wanna stay? You've got a new family now, if you want." Jim wants to hug him, but he can't seem to make himself do it. He reaches a hand out and squeezes Valen's upper arm gently instead.For some reason, the phone call and getting put down by his mother has been very grounding. It's reminding him of who he was before. He's a person, who has a mother he can have a bad relationship with. He moves his hand on top of Jim's, squeezing it back, nodding. He's certainly not going back to his husband. The thought of being this vulnerable and scared around Priscus makes him shiver with dread. He would fall prey to Priscus's manipulation every time, he knows he would. And going back to his parents' wouldn't be much better. No, this feels like the safest place, against all odds.

***

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@emcscared-whumps

@gt-daboss

@hurtpluscomfort

@jakersdaboss

@lolrpop

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@pigeonwhumps

@some-thrilling-heroics

@starfields08000

@t0rture-me

@thecyrulik

@thejinglingcourtjester

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-my-heart-away

@whumpycries

@wolfeyedwitch

@whump-addict

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

#whump #K+J #angst #whumpblr #hurt/comfort

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c-e-d-dreamer · 11 months

Text

Barbarian Bat: Part Three

A/N: Let's all just pretend that I'm not super behind on writing and updating.... aha? But I hope everyone enjoys this next part! We're getting angsty up in here.

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part

Nesta’s heart pounds between her ribs, the thrumming beat in time with every hurried step through the snow. She’s half aware of the cold biting across the skin of her cheeks, of the numbness beginning to creep into her fingers, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than forcing air into her lungs, forcing it around the lump pressing painfully in her throat. Her whole chest feels hollowed out, feels bruised and empty, and she can feel the familiar prickle of tears burning just behind her eyes.

The snow and the trees pass by in a watery blur, but Nesta keeps pushing forward. She refuses to give in to the dread that weighs heavy in her gut, refuses to give in to the darkness swirling in tighter and tighter and threatening to pull her under. Perhaps, if she keeps walking far enough, she’ll finally wake up back in her bed in her tiny apartment back on earth.

“Nes!”

Nesta takes a moment to close her eyes, a near hysterical laugh bubbling up and out of her. Of course. Of course, he followed her. Of course, she’s never truly allowed a second of peace.

“Nesta!”

“You are quite literally the last person I want to see right now,” Nesta calls over her shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“Nes, please. Stop.”

“I’m serious. Leave me alone.”

Nesta hears Cassian let out an annoyed huff, hears him jog through the snow to catch up to her. “If you are going to storm off, at least do it in a different direction.”

“Just because we’ve resonated that doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, you insufferable alien,” Nesta seethes, trying to pick up her pace.

“And your stubbornness is walking you straight into Metlak territory.”

Nesta whirls back around to face him, her hands clenched into fists at her side. “Didn’t you know? I’m the stubborn one. The scary one. So why don’t you take a hint from the rest of the tribe and finally just steer clear?”

Cassian frowns, and even across the distance still between them, Nesta can see the pained look that mars his expression as he presses a hand to his chest. “You are my mate. The one my khui has chosen as mine.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be.”

“Yes, you have made that perfectly clear. I am sorry. I am sorry that your khui did not choose someone better for you. I am sorry that it is me you are stuck with.”

The words hit Nesta hard enough that her breath stutters for a moment, cracks ricocheting through her chest. The defensive quip dies on her tongue, any other words tangling into a tight knot.

How could he not know? How could he not know that she had been drawn into his gravity from the moment she laid eyes on him? How could he not know that every teasing remark, every smile, every laugh he directed her way left something warm and dangerous blooming within her that Nesta refuses to name? How could he not know that he is all that is good and brave and kind, and it is her that does not deserve him?

“Cassian…”

But Nesta trails off as Cassian’s eyes widen, his attention drifting firmly over her shoulder. He looks nothing short of alarmed, and it has every hair on the back of Nesta’s neck rising, anxiety beginning to spark in her veins. Tentatively, she turns back around and comes face to face with a pair of large, round eyes. The white fur of the creature is dirty and splotted with brown spots, and when Nesta takes in a gasping breath, she’s hit with what smells a lot like a wet dog. The creature tilts its head, peering up at her almost curiously, before opening its beak-like mouth and giving Nesta a perfect view of its fangs.

Nesta tries to slowly back away, but her feet have sunk too deeply, her snowshoes catching and dragging in the snow until she’s toppling backwards and landing with a quiet cry of surprise. The metlak lets out some sort of call, a sound that reminds Nesta of an owl hooting, and then two more creatures are stepping out from the tree line and approaching her.

“Nesta!”

Nesta's heart stutters and pounds in her chest, and she tries to scramble back away from the creatures, away from their large unblinking eyes that are pinned on her, away from their mouths full of fangs. Another hooting sound and that first metlak dares to take a step closer to her, Nesta's whole body locking up with a full body flinch in anticipation of an attack.

A roar sounds from behind her, and Nesta can do nothing but gape as Cassian goes rushing forward and barrels into the group of metlaks. The creatures are quick to fight back, arms swinging and dragging their claws against his skin. Cassian reaches to pull his knife free from his belt, but one of the metlaks sinks its fangs into his arm, and he lets out a pained shout of surprise as his knife falls into the snow.

With a growl, Cassian throws his arm out and shakes the metlak free, sending the creature sailing through the air until it goes crumbling into the snow. The other metlaks are briefly distracted by their fallen comrade, so Cassian whirls around, his hands sifting through the snow to find his missing knife. But the distraction is short lived, and soon, the two remaining metlaks have their attention solely back on Cassian, letting out more of those ominous hooting sounds.

“Cassian!” Nesta screams out in warning. “Cassian!”

Cassian looks up in alarm just as one of the metlaks pounces, claws and fangs burying into his back. He turns around before the remaining metlak can join the attack, kicking out his leg and sending it back toward the tree line. His hands reach back to try and grasp at the metlak still attached to him, but the creature rears its head back and takes another bite out of Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian stumbles, dropping down to one knee and clearly in pain. Nesta can’t take anymore, can’t just sit by and watch. She pushes back to her feet and rushes forward. She spies Cassian’s abandoned knife, scooping it up out of the snow as she goes. She curls her fingers tight around the hilt, drawing her hand back and swinging forward until the carved bone is embedded deep in the metlak's fur. The metlak lets out an anguished sound, squirming until warm red spills across Nesta’s hands and between her fingers, but it releases its hold on Cassian and collapses at their feet.

Nesta’s chest is heaving, and the knife slips from her grip as she staggers back a step. She swallows hard around the bile threatening to rise up in her throat, blinking down at the metlak blood staining her skin. A finger beneath her chin has her gaze raising and meeting a pair of eyes glowing with concern.

“Are you well, Nes?”

A hysterical laugh threatens to bubble up out of her at the question. “You’re the one who was just attacked, and you’re asking me if I’m well?”

Nesta reaches her hand up in the space between them, trying to put pressure on the wound left behind from the metlak’s claws on Cassian’s chest. Between the way her fingers have started to tremble and the slickness of the blood, her hand slips against his skin, but Cassian’s own fingers curl gently around her wrist, halting her movements. With everything that’s happened, the touch shouldn’t be as warm and grounding as it is, but there’s no denying the calming feeling that washes over her.

“Do not worry about me,” Cassian tells her as he reaches down and grabs his knife, standing up with a grimace. “We must get you somewhere safe, away from metlak territory.” Cassian looks up and around them, taking in their surroundings. “I know this area. There is a hunter cave not far.”

Somehow, numbly, Nesta nods her head. She stumbles back to where their packs are laying in the snow, shouldering the weight of both of them. Cassian tries to take them from her, but she holds firm, especially as blood continues to slide along his skin in streaks of red. He seems less than impressed, but he leads the way through the snow, keeping his knife raised and ready in case of another attack.

Thankfully, they really don’t need to walk too far before reaching the hunter cave, but Nesta still lets out an exhausted sigh as she drops their packs to the floor. She goes to move the privacy screen into place at the cave entrance, but a pained grunt draws her attention back to Cassian. He’s dropped to his knees, whatever adrenaline that was keeping him going now gone.

He winces as he pulls his vest off and tosses it aside, and Nesta gets her first look at just how bad the wounds to his back are. The gashes are deep and still bleeding, the one at his shoulder where that metlak bit him especially gruesome. When Cassian falls forward, just barely catching himself with his hand, Nesta rushes to his side. She drops to her own knees beside him, stretching an arm across his waist to try and hold him up.

“You need to see Madja,” Nesta tells him, eyes raking over the concerningly high number of scratches and gashes. “We need to get you back to the main cave.”

Cassian shifts enough that he can slide his palm along Nesta’s cheek, thumb skating across her skin. The way his eyes droop and are unfocused has fear spearing icy cold through Nesta’s chest, twisting tighter and tighter until it hurts to squeeze air into her lungs. She curls her fingers around his wrist, squeezing hard and holding him there. Holding him here with her.

“Cassian…”

“My mate,” Cassian whispers, his words slightly slurred. “Safe.”

Cassian’s eyes flutter closed, and then he’s slumping forward, Nesta just barely able to brace him and the dead weight before his face makes contact with the stone floor of the cave.

“Shit,” Nesta whispers to herself, giving Cassian’s shoulder a shake but he doesn’t move or make a sound. “Shit shit shit… Okay… Okay.”

Nesta closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, steadying herself and willing her thundering heart to calm. She can do this. She has to do this. With a determined nod, Nesta pushes back up to her feet. She goes over to where she dropped their packs, rooting around in Cassian’s until she finds his flint. She finds fuel in one of the baskets tucked along the far wall of the cave, stacking them in the makeshift fire pit the way she’s seen the other members of the tribe do before.

It takes a few strikes of the flint, but finally, Nesta is able to get sparks. She holds her breath until the sparks grow into proper flames, the orangey glow quickly filling the cave. She grabs their waterskins next, stepping just outside of the cave and filling them both with snow before setting them above the now crackling fire to melt. It takes some tugging on Nesta’s part, but she’s able to drag the heavy privacy screen in place over the cave entrance, trapping the warmth from the fire in with them.

Nesta uses the first waterskin to pour the now melted water over her hands and clean them, and then she turns back to Cassian and his wounds. She frowns and tilts her head, trying to determine the best next steps. She doesn’t exactly have a first aid kit handy on this planet. She decides to reach for her furs, untying them from her pack.

She takes Cassian’s knife and slices the furs into strips, cutting the final strip into squares. She crushes some soap berries into the waterskin and dips the first square of fur into the sudsy water. She keeps her touch careful and gentle as she cleans each of Cassian’s wounds. Amazingly, some of the more shallow scratches have already begun to heal, his khui clearly working hard and quickly.

She covers the worst of his wounds with the strips of fur, finding some twine in Cassian’s pack to tie the ones on his shoulder in place, then sits back on her haunches with a soft sigh. She only allows herself a moment before pushing back to her feet. She discards the now pile of bloody furs and dumps the dirty water. It takes some awkward maneuvering with Cassian’s large body, but Nesta is able to roll out his furs and get him into them.

He hasn’t moved or made a sound since he lost consciousness, but his chest continues to move up and down with each breath, and when Nesta presses the palm of her hand there, she can feel the beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. With nothing to keep her hands or her mind busy anymore, it’s hard to stop the dark thoughts that swirl and roll in like storm clouds. A lump presses in against her throat, her stomach churning as she grips at the leathers of her clothing until her knuckles turn white. She has no idea if she’s done enough, no idea if Cassian will be able to heal, if he’ll even wake up. And she has no idea where they are. No idea how to contact anyone from the main cave to get help.

“Please don’t die on me,” Nesta whispers, brushing the dark strands of Cassian’s hair out of his face. “You can’t die on me, you stupid alien, you hear me?”

Nesta holds vigil until exhaustion sinks into her limbs and threatens to tug her under. Until her eyelids start to droop and she has to shake herself to keep them open. She curls up beside Cassian, keeping her hand firmly on his chest, on his still beating heart. She allows the assurance that, for now, he’s okay to wash over her, allows the steady thrum under her hand to finally lull her to sleep.

It’s the cold beneath her hands that she feels first. Cold and hard, and when she curls her fingers, it’s the distinct feel of metal beneath her touch. In a second, her eyes snap open, taking in the white, clinical walls, the various metal panels, the flashing lights. Fear grips her tight enough that Nesta swears she’s being burned from the inside out by its icy grip. She opens her mouth, tries to scream, but all there is is a lump pressing into her throat.

Nesta tries to sit up, tries to clamber off the table, but she can’t seem to get her limbs to work. It’s like she’s pinned down, like she’s paralyzed, and that fear turns into a full blown panic, clawing at her chest and leaving it heaving. She thrashes her head, trying to escape, but as she turns to the right, she realizes she’s not alone in this room.

Cassian is sprawled across the floor, and it takes Nesta a moment too long to realize that his eyes are staring unblinking up at the ceiling, that his chest isn’t moving. In fact, the longer she stares, the more gashes that seem to appear across his skin, blood gurgling and pooling beneath him. Nesta thrashes harder against her invisible restraints, tries desperately to reach for him as the familiar sting at the back of his eyes blurs her vision.

Nesta wakes with a jolt, Cassian’s name weighing heavy on the tip of her tongue. Her heart pounds between her ribs, squeezing and twisting in a way that leaves a steady ache. Her stomach roils, and she’s confident that if she had anything in her gut, she’d have lost it. Her breath still heaves out of her as she turns her attention to Cassian, but he hasn’t moved, his condition still the same as before she fell asleep.

She lets out a quiet breath and lays back down beside him, tries to lull herself back under, but sleep does not come easily, and it’s fitful for the rest of the night. By the time pale morning light starts to creep into the cave around the privacy screen, she feels more exhausted than any sort of rested. Her chest still aches like a festering wound, her limbs heavy as she shifts and stretches.

But Nesta still pulls herself up. She slides the back of her hand along Cassian’s temple and cheek, and she frowns at the way his skin feels warm, like he’s practically radiating heat. Does that mean he has a fever? That his wounds are infected? How is she supposed to know what the normal temperature of an alien is? She peels back each of the strips of fur to check, but almost all of his wounds have closed up, even the worst of them scabbed over.

“Cassian,” Nesta tries, gently shaking his shoulder.

Cassian lets out a quiet groan, a soft murmur that Nesta can’t quite make out what he’s saying, but she decides any sound is a good sign. She quickly adds more fuel and stokes the fire back to life, tugging the privacy screen back enough that she can reach a hand out and pack more snow into a waterskin, melting it down. She adds soap berries and takes the time to reclean all of Cassian’s wounds, carefully laying the strips of fur back in place and tucking him back in.

By the time Nesta has finished, her stomach seems set on being louder than even her khui, and she knows she’ll need to venture out of the safety of the cave. She grabs Cassian’s knife and keeps it poised in her hand as she slowly pulls back the privacy screen the rest of the way and peeks her head outside. When she’s sure the coast is clear, she steps out properly into the snow and the two suns already sitting high in the sky.

Nesta knows that the hunters have caches near each of the caves. She knows that she just needs to find the tree that has the markings in the bark to indicate where this cave’s cache is. She heads for the tree line, making sure she keeps the cave in her line of sight at all times as she wanders through the snow. Her eyes scan the different trunks until she finally spots the one with knife markings on it. She drops to her knees and digs through the snow until she finds a quillbeast buried there, tugging it free and piling the snow back on top of the cache.

It’s messy and imperfect, skinning the quillbeast when she makes it back to the hunter cave, and it takes much longer than Nesta thought it would but she makes it work. She cooks the meat over the fire and nibbles on the pieces, occasionally glancing toward Cassian to check on him. She’s going to need a proper plan soon. A long term plan soon.

But for right now, all Nesta can think about is how gross she feels. The trek to the Elder cave and everything that’s happened since then hasn’t exactly lent itself to the opportunity to bathe and she’s certainly feeling it. Her braid is practically crusted over with grease, and there’s a layer of grime and sweat clinging to her skin that has her nose scrunching in distaste.

She clambers up to her feet, grabbing one of the waterskins and making for the cave entrance. Darkness has started to creep in outside, and Nesta swears she can feel eyes staring at her from behind the tree line. It has her shuttering, memories of the metlaks still fresh in her mind. She makes quick work of packing the waterskin with snow and securing the privacy screen firmly back in place, some of the tension finally loosening from her shoulders when she’s sat safely back at the fire.

She sets the waterskin above the fire to melt the snow and gets started on her hair while she waits, tugging the leather strap free and carefully unwinding the strands. She digs a bone comb out of her pack and uses it to work through the tangles. By the time she finishes, the snow has melted and the water has warmed, so she crushes up some soap berries, lathering up her hair and carefully rinsing the strands.

Just that one thing already has her feeling infinitely better, but she peels off her shirt and sets it aside. She uses the spare squares of fur to scrub and rinse down her arms, along her shoulders, across her collarbones. Her khui begins to sing loudly in her chest, sending vibrations skittering through her veins, heat creeping up her spine, and her hands pause their movements. A shudder takes over her body, her breath catching in her throat, as if it knows what’s happening before her mind catches up.

She didn’t even hear him get up. Didn’t hear him move across the cave and closer to her. But now she can hear the way his own khui answers the song of her own, can feel the warmth radiating off him as much as the fire in front of her.

Despite his overly large hands, Cassian’s touch is surprisingly gentle. The tips of his fingers whisper across her exposed shoulder, tracing shapes and patterns along the skin. Nesta can feel her heart starting to trip over itself between her ribs, can hear her damn khui practically screaming away, but she can’t find it within herself to move away from him, can scarcely breathe. Goosebumps bloom down her arm at his touch, and she hates it.

She hates his tenderness and his kindness and the fact she doesn’t deserve it. She hates the way their khuis sing and twine together, filling the space of the cave around them. She hates the way she wants to lean back into him, to give in until she’s consumed. But, instead, she stares resolutely at the shadows cast across the cave walls from the fires, focusing on anything other than this big, blue alien and his intense stares and his easy smiles and his charming words and his boisterous laughter and his stupid gentle touches to her shoulder.

She tries to focus on being back on that spaceship with her sisters, back to what she left behind on earth. Tries to focus on every barely sutured wound, every chink in her armor weighing her down and promising to pull her under. Tries to focus on the sorry bruised and battered state of her heart, not even close to worthy of being offered over.

Cassian switches his attention to her other shoulder, fingers still tracing those soft, aimless patterns. The shuddering breath that tumbles past Nesta’s lips sounds too loud even to her own ears, but his touches don’t falter, and she swallows hard, forcing herself to find her voice again.

“Freckles,” she breathes, turning her head enough that she can meet his gaze. It’s a mistake, their faces now close together, but she pushes on anyway. “They’re places where the skin goes darker. Often from the sun.”

“Free-kels,” Cassian repeats, his brows dipping as he focuses on speaking the word.

Nesta snorts amusedly at the pronunciation attempt. “Close enough.”

Cassian drops his gaze back to her shoulder, his fingers resuming their movements. “Your sisters have them too.”

“Yes. Feyre on her nose, and Elain on her cheeks. I have mine on my shoulders.”

“I like them.”

He says the words so genuinely, almost reverently, and Nesta’s heart gives a traitorous squeeze in her chest. That tightness only seems to grow when Cassian shifts his head, his mouth brushing along the same path his fingers had traced moments before. Nesta closes her eyes, letting the feeling wash over her, but her eyes snap back open again when Cassian’s hand skates across her cheek. She blinks in surprise at the tear he caught, not even realizing it had slipped free.

“I’m sorry,” Cassian murmurs, shifting away from her.

The loss of his presence and his warmth is jarring, the cold seeping in around her and sinking its claws into her. She wraps her arms tightly around herself, her bottom lip finding home between her teeth.

“I had this boyfriend back on earth,” Nesta begins, her voice quiet. She’s not sure where the need to tell him comes from, but once she starts, the words continue to flow out of her. “Sort of like a pleasure mate, I guess. But he was… cruel. He was awful. He made me feel weak. And when I finally left him, I swore to myself that I would never feel weak again. But I did. On that spaceship. Waking up there and seeing Elain and Feyre and knowing there was nothing I could do to save them. That I couldn’t save them. I felt just as powerless again. I want to stop feeling weak and powerless.”

Cassian reaches across the space between them, settling his hand overs and stopping her from twisting her fingers into knots. “I could train you, if you want. Teach you how to use our hunting weapons, so you can always protect yourself. So you will always feel strong.”

For a moment, Nesta can do nothing but stare at him, her heart lodged firmly in her throat and tangling with the words there. This is a ledge, one that she can’t come back from if she steps off it, and the ground is shaky beneath her feet. If Cassian picks up on her trepidation, he doesn’t let on. He merely watches her quietly, patiently, his thumb sliding almost soothingly along the back of her hand.

“And what if I decide to use those skills to fight you?” Nesta teases lightly, hoping to steer the conversation back to familiarity, to steady footing.

“Then I would know that I trained you well,” Cassian tells her sincerely. “I would be proud of you.”

Nesta pulls her hands free from Cassian’s touch, turning her attention fully back to the fire. “You should be resting. You shouldn’t be up. You’re still healing.”

Cassian lets out a soft sigh, but Nesta can’t bear to turn and look at him, to see the expression she’s sure is on his face. She hears him move away, the shuffles as he moves back toward the furs. She bites her lip to keep it from trembling, grabbing her shirt and yanking it back on.

“What is your plan then?” Cassian asks from behind her. “We will have to go back to the main cave.”

“I know,” Nesta murmurs, curling her knees up against her chest.

“Rhys is a good leader. He will not force… it will be your choice, but we will not be able to keep it a secret any longer. Everyone will know that we have resonated.”

“Maybe just you should go back to the cave then. Then, no one will know your mate is the scary one.”

“You think that is what I wish?”

Nesta lets out a dry, mocking laugh, whirling around to face him. “It’s what you should want. There’s something wrong with me.”

Cassian frowns, tilting his head curiously. “Are you well, Nes? We will have Madja speak with your khui. We will fix it.”

“You don’t get it,” Nesta huffs frustrated, barely stopping her eye roll. “You can’t fix it. They can’t even fix it back on earth. It’s… it’s inside my head. In my mind.”

Cassian’s expression is pained as he watches her, like his own heart is breaking at the admission. He hesitates for a second before closing the distance between them again, his hands reaching up to frame her face. He presses his forehead against hers, each touch so gentle, so caring, and Nesta’s vision starts to blur.

“Then tell me how I can help. Tell me how to ease this pain in your head.”

Nesta shakes her head, swallowing down a choked sob before it can escape. “I’m telling you. You can’t. I’m broken.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Cassian tells her fiercely, his thumbs catching every tear that slips free and slides down her cheeks. “Because there is nothing broken to fix.”

“You just don’t understand,” Nesta scoffs.

“And you do not see what I see. I know that you are hurting. That these males in your past have hurt you. But I see how you still walk with your head held high. You are still so strong. I see how fiercely you care for your sisters, that you would do anything for them. I see everything that you do at the cave and everything that you are doing now, and I am honored that my khui has chosen you as my mate.”

Nesta pulls her face free from Cassian’s grip, scrubbing the back of her hand against her cheeks. “I thought I told you to rest.”

“You need to rest too.”

“I will.”

Cassian scrutinizes her for a moment, but when he finally seems satisfied with what he sees, he nods his head. He moves back over to the furs, but rather than slip beneath them, he begins to rearrange them, fluffing them up, preparing them.

“What are you doing?” Nesta demands even though she already knows the answer. “Cassian.”

“I will not have my mate be cold,” Cassian explains, as if it’s that simple, shifting the furs closer to the fire.

“I’m not the one who’s injured. You’re still healing.”

“I do not care.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at that, crossing her arms across her chest. “Gods, you can be so stubborn, did you know that?”

“Then we are evenly matched,” Cassian tells her, meeting her gaze head on.

Nesta sighs, already knowing she’s going to regret this. “Fine. We can share. Then everyone wins. Just… just don’t make it weird.”

Cassian’s expression betrays nothing, but he gestures toward the furs for her to go first. With another roll of her eyes, Nesta moves and slips beneath the furs. She shifts as far to the edge as she can, keeping her back to Cassian as he clambers beneath the furs beside her. She relaxes once he’s settled, but it’s short lived when his arms reach out and curl around her, tugging her back into his chest.

“Cassian,” Nesta warns between clenched teeth.

“I am not making it weird. I am merely helping to keep you warm.”

It's a lie and they both know it. Especially with the way his hand flexes against her waist, his arms tightening. As though he's afraid she'll disappear on him, as though he's desperate to keep her here in his embrace just a little bit longer. And maybe Nesta should call him out on it, maybe it makes her selfish, but she allows herself to sink back into him, allows her eyes to flutter closed, allows his warmth and the security of his arms around her and the steady beat of his heart at her back lull her into blissful sleep.

—

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#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #IPB AU #my fic

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 6 months

Text

The Blood of the Covenant

Chapter One: First Steps (Toward White-Faced Cliffs)

Summary: Ominis Gaunt makes his very first friends. || Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song: We Are Gonna Be Friends - Carried Away

A/N: Please tell me what you think. This is my first real contribution to this fandom and I'm unreasonably nervous about it.

He felt a certain fondness looking back on that day. Sitting in King’s Cross Station, assaulted by unfamiliar and frightening sensations. It was scary at the time, but he’d only been eleven then. The hulking monster of soot, smoke, and steel lurched out of the station, and with it, he was finally, finally free.

Even though, at the time, he hadn’t quite figured out that he was trapped to begin with.

That would come with time. And pain. But he didn’t know that quite yet.

And to be fair, he wasn't entirely free. His mother and father would scarcely let him flee so effortlessly from their clutches. But for the first time in his life, he had a real choice - many real choices, in fact. Surely, if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't have to be the villain. He wasn’t destined to become his older brother or his father. He could be the hero, he was sure of it. At eleven years old, he was determined. He would write his own story - prove mother and father and ‘Volo wrong. He would just have to be brave.

That was the tricky part.

Bravery wasn't particularly his forte.

Well, he would just have to work on that. After all, how hard could it be? Without mother and father around to punish him, or ‘Volo over his shoulder to ensure they would, the boy was sure that bravery could be forged easily enough. And Hogwarts, of course, would be the perfect place to build up a little courage.

Perhaps he could start with what Aunt Noctua always said: Making some friends.

The only problem there was that… well he'd never really had a friend before. The closest he'd ever come to a playmate were the family house elves and somehow, he didn't think that magical enslavement was quite what his Aunt had in mind.

" How does one go about making a friend ?" The boy wondered with a frown.

A soft click jarred him from his reverie, and the boy tilted his head toward the door of his little seating area, listening to the voices he'd previously been ignoring.

"Well, I don't know… push it a little harder?" One of the voices, likely a girl's though it was hard for him to distinguish, said.

"I'm pushing on it as hard as I can." The second speaker sounded more like a boy, at least in temperament.

"Then why isn't it opening?"

"Perhaps it's jammed?" The second voice suggested. This was followed by an indignant huff from the first.

"But everywhere else is full!" The girl complained. "Try it again, Sebastian."

"Oh, fine!" The boy - Sebastian, evidently - exclaimed. "But if I break my shoulder, you'll owe me a new one."

The boy inside the compartment raised a brow and stood. Reaching out, he felt around for the door's handle before twisting and easily sliding it open.

"It helps to unfasten the latch," He hummed, rather amused. Then, gesturing inside the compartment, he smirked. "In need of a seat?"

"Yes, please!" The girl chirped. He quickly stepped to the side as she slipped past him. Sebastian followed, though not without a low grumble.

"I would have gotten that eventually," He said. The rustle of fabric that followed usually indicated that a speaker had crossed their arms and the frown in his voice wasn't hard to detect.

"Of course you would."

Sebastian huffed. "As if you didn't do the same thing your first time riding a train."

"I didn't." The boy shrugged, chuckling. Sebastian opened his mouth to contend that only to be met with a quick jab in the ribs from his companion.

"Sebastian!" She chastened. "Don't be rude!"

"Right. Sorry."

"Apologies on behalf of my brother," The girl said, an eye-roll quite evident in her tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Anne Sallow, and he's Sebastian."

The boy nodded. "Pleasure to meet you both," He replied.

"Are you not going to introduce yourself?" Sebastian wondered. Were he an adult, likely there would have been a hint of displeasure in the boy's tone, but seeing as he was merely eleven, the only undertones in his words were those of curiosity.

The boy froze. If he shared his name, the likelihood that these two would desire to befriend him would either drop or rise significantly. (The latter for all the wrong reasons, of course.) However, he could hardly go about befriending anyone should he withhold his name from the entire school.

"I'm Ominis." He took a deep breath, grimacing as he readied himself for the backlash (or quite the opposite) to come. "Ominis… Gaunt ."

There was silence.

“Oh…” That was Sebastian.

"I've… heard things about that family," Anne's voice began softly. Not at all an odd thing to say really. Because everyone who was someone had heard something about the Gaunts. Looking back on it, he could hear it in her, just as he had so many others.

The fear. The disgust.

And beneath it all, there was that reluctant awe. (In his usual circles - his parent's circles - that awe was less reluctant and more forced. ) As though he were some sort of prince, heir to a vile, imaginary crown.

Oh, how he grew to hate it.

Though he was only eleven at the time and oh-so-innocent, Ominis knew enough. He knew enough to recognize that his family was awful rude and stuffy and old fashioned. He just didn’t know how bad it really was. Not at the time. His name - his bloodline - was his crown, revered by all, and coveted by those who didn't have the sense to fear it. The Gaunt legacy was one of darkness and hate - it was not something to be exalted.

Why could people not acknowledge them for what they were? Not royalty, but-

"Pure-blood maniacs - the lot of 'em. That's what my uncle says," Sebastian cut in, foregoing his sister's more polite tone. There was no awe in his voice. Ominis caught only a steadfast surety. "I never understood why the Prophet always talks about your folks like they're some kind of royalty, but that whole clan sounds more like a bunch of spoiled brats to me. What say you, Ominis?"

The blunt honesty caught him off guard. Ominis blinked.

You see, despite having been born blind, (or perhaps because of it) Ominis Gaunt was quite adept at reading people. He could hear the difference between a smile and a sneer, even when one masked the other. He could scent out a lie from across a room, even in a setting steeped with deceit. He could taste a challenge before it crawled its way between a speaker's lips, not unlike a snake that tastes its prey from deep within its hole - never giving a warning before it strikes. (An apt metaphor, though Ominis would never take pride in it.)

The boy was so used to deception - had lived his entire eleven years of life by its principles. Navigating the cloak-and-dagger conversations of pure-blood high society was a skill sewn into his very essence. Yet, none of his parents' instructions on navigating polite conversation could have prepared him for the metaphorical bludger that was Sebastian Sallow.

His words alone painted for Ominis a perfect impression of his entire personality.

Thus Ominis was quite sure that the child before him was unlike anyone he had ever met. This boy had never known wealth nor privilege as he had. (Ominis could smell the dirt on the clothes he and his sister wore.) There were no schemes nor hidden agendas, it seemed. No, he simply didn't have the patience for such things. He was purely upfront - a trait Ominis was far from used to. Sebastian wasn't going to play nice for the sake of propriety.

And truthfully, Ominis was quite bored with propriety. Perhaps that was why he didn’t lash out in his family’s defense. Or perhaps it was because ‘Volo had pushed him down the stairs earlier that day. He wasn’t sure. Either way, that was the beginning. That was how the wool over his eyes began to unravel, so to speak. But again. He didn’t know that yet. For now, as an eleven-year-old who was quite annoyed with his brother would, he just found it all rather funny.

"Ugh! ‘Bash!" Anne hissed, though the admonition died on her lips when Ominis cracked a smile.

"Oh, I quite agree," He said with a smirk. "You can't imagine the family reunions."

Oh , if his parents heard him say that…

Rather, only Sebastian and Anne did. They didn't seem particularly affronted. In fact, a broad grin stretched into Sebastian's next words.

"I think the three of us are going to be great friends, Ominis."

And Ominis smiled then. They had extended their friendship first, and he hadn't even needed to do anything! He'd thought he would have at least had to buy them off, but no! They didn't ask a knut of him. What a spectacular feeling that was!

He could be normal, like Auntie Noctua always said. He could make friends. He could do this .

He would prove his siblings and his parents wrong, just like Aunt Noctua always said he could.

"Thank you, I look forward to it," He said, with a slight smile. "So, this is your first year at Hogwarts as well, I presume?"

"Yes, it is!" Anne answered readily, practically buzzing with excitement.

"I see." He nodded. "Would the two of you happen to be twins then?"

"Indeed we are," Sebastian hummed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Can't you tell?"

Ominis frowned and retreated slightly. "As a matter of fact, I-I can't," He said.

"Why's that?" The boy wondered, genuinely confused. His sister sighed.

"Because he's blind , Sebastian," She hissed under her breath.

"Oh… Wait, really?"

Ominis raised a brow. "Yes?"

"So what's that like?" He wondered, leaning forward in his seat. "What color is everything for you? Is it black or white?"

Anne groaned.

"I wouldn't know…" Ominis answered slowly. Yet a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, despite himself. "I was born this way. What's your excuse?"

Most questions he received about his blindness were demeaning in some way or another. He was used to them by now. However, for once, he didn't mind because this one was entirely genuine… if only in the sense that not a single ounce of thought had been put into it.

"He doesn't have one, I'm afraid." Anne deadpanned. "He's just an idiot."

Sebastian's robes rustled as he drew back, offended. "What are you two getting at? I just ask-" He paused. "Oh."

It would seem that Sebastian's mouth ran a bit faster than his head. There was honesty in that. Ominis found himself appreciating it.

"Merlin's beard, Sebastian." Anne sighed, shaking her head. She shifted to address Ominis. "Believe it or not, my brother's got the brain of a Ravenclaw."

"Pity he doesn't use it," Ominis hummed, teasingly.

The girl giggled. "That's what I've been saying for years."

"Oh yes, how clever of you, Anne. Let's all just applaud your stunning originality," Sebastian said flatly. Ominis could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "You know, Ominis, I've always thought my sister more inclined to Gryffindor," He continued. "She reminds me of a lion quite often. Though, not so much in temperament as in looks. I mean, you're lucky you can't see because it's rather frightening - razor sharp claws, yellow teeth, and when she wakes up in the morning, she's got quite the impressive mane. She's also unreasonably loud!"

"Wha-" Anne gasped and a loud thump indicated that Sebastian was going to have an impressive bruise on his arm by the end of the day.

Ominis couldn't help but laugh. And, oddly enough, that laughter lasted for the duration of the train ride. He'd never before felt the urge to laugh quite like he did in the presence of the Sallow twins. Because… well he could . With no one around to chastise him, he could laugh all he wanted.

Something warm and entirely foreign stirred in his chest. Thus, on that very day, Ominis Gaunt experienced the sensations of both true freedom and kinship for the first time in his life and, like a Niffler, he welcomed it greedily, relishing it in the moment before it would inevitably be taken from him. After all, good things were always taken from him. He wasn't good enough to keep them. He hadn’t quite learned that lesson yet. But he would.

Rather sad that, but no one ever said this was a happy story.

By the time the train arrived in Hogsmeade Station, the twins were practically bouncing off the walls of that little compartment. Though, in hindsight, the mounds of candy Ominis bought for them to share certainly didn't help matters. He did it because he could. Because mother and father would have told him no. Because he had money and his parents never spent a Galleon on anyone else. Auntie Noctua said generosity is a good thing. So Ominis would be a generous little boy.

“Oh, Sebastian! Just look at it!” Anne squealed, her face plastered to the window. Her brother, in an attempt to remain composed and thus appear more mature than his sister, remained in his seat. He was equally excited, however, if his voice was anything to go on.

“We’ve passed by dozens of times. We practically live here! Why is today any different?” His feet drummed on the floor. Oh, he couldn’t wait.

“Because today we’re going inside !” Anne shook her brother vigorously and Ominis couldn't help but laugh.

“Look at it, Ominis!” She then implored him.

He didn’t hesitate a second.

“Oh, yes. Stunning. Positively mind boggling.”

“Isn’t it just?” She sighed. “I’m just so… wait.” She whipped around again and crossed her arms.

“HA!” Sebastian gave a rather loud and phony laugh. “Who’s the moonmind now?”

Anne kicked her brother before resting her hand on Ominis’s arm. He flinched, but only a little bit. He was proud of that. Thankfully, she didn’t touch his skin. That would have been far too much. He was only eleven, after all. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t normal for touch to be an awful thing. He hadn’t yet realized it wasn’t normal for parents to hit their little ones.

“I’m so sorry,” She said. “I truly didn’t mean to be so rude.”

Ominis just chuckled in response. “Don’t be. You’re not mean, Anne.”

The poor girl seemed so genuinely and deeply upset. It honestly floored him.

“No, no. I really will be more careful.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” He maintained. “It will happen again. And again… and again.”

He was, after all, quite used to much worse.

Then the train pulled to a stop. Ominis was a bit thrown in his seat, but otherwise alright. Sebastian jumped up like someone had just lit off a Wizzpopper in their compartment. He and his twin were bouncing on their feet.

“Are you ready, mate?” Sebastian prodded. Now, this made Ominis frown. He fleetingly reached into his robes to touch his wand. Still there.

“I… I think I’ll wait.” He said. Anne immediately frowned.

“Wait?” She sounded like she couldn’t possibly fathom what the word meant. “Merlin’s beard! Why would you possibly want to wait?”

He caught himself swaying a bit again and corrected.

“Less people.” He replied.

“Oh… I see.” Sebastian nodded slowly. Then he giggled. “Dammit. I did it again.”

Anne hit him. For the fourth time. Ominis suspected she did that quite a lot.

“Sebastian!” She admonished. “Language! There is a lady present.”

“Shit. Where?” He gasped mockingly. “Ominis, have you lied to me?”

They were trying to make him feel better. It was working. He smiled.

“Oh, I hope not.”

“Damn. Don’t say that, mate. You got my hopes up.”

Anne died a little bit, smacking her palm against her forehead loud enough for Ominis to flinch again. He opted to change the subject before she did herself (or her brother) any more damage.

“Say, if the two of you live in this valley - as I assume you must - why take the train?” He wondered.

“You talk so fancy,” Anne said. Not an actual answer to his question and she sounded rather sad. He decided then and there that he didn’t like it when Anne Sallow sounded sad.

He’d hardly had time to frown before Sebastian spoke up.

“Mum and Dad were so excited about it,” He said. “They ate up any bit of news they could. They so desperately wanted us to be able to ride.” The boy laughed and then his voice fractured - and not because he was an eleven year old boy. “They set aside some money. Put it in their will. Uncle Solomon says its just this once.”

“Oh.” And really. What else could he say? “You’re… orphans?”

The thought of simply not having parents seemed so foreign to him. But then again… perhaps not.

Before her brother could say anything brash (and he was going to judging by his intake of breath) Anne huffed and placed her hands on her hips.

“That we are,” She said. “Come now. Looks like most everyone has cleared out.”

She took him and her brother by their sleeves and promptly dragged them from their compartment. Sebastian was rather stiff - his footsteps gave him away.

“You’re very brave, you know,” Ominis told the other boy under his breath. Sebastian froze.

“There are steps here, Ominis. Three of them. Be careful.” Anne informed him, remaining deliberately unresponsive to his comment.

“Yes, thank you.” He pulled out his wand and it pulsed a few times. It vibrated, seemingly happy to be put to work after hours in his pocket. There were indeed three steps. Ominis liked Anne quite a bit. Thoughtful she was. Loud, but in a good sort of way. An honest way. His wand liked her too. She descended the steps first and her brother, though he didn’t turn to face Ominis, he did speak. His voice was quiet in an awful sad sort of way.

“Brave… That’s not what people usually say,” He murmured.

Ominis cracked a little smile. Noctua always said that a stretch of the lips and a crinkle of the cheeks makes people more at ease.

“Well, I do like to be different.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh and helped Ominis down the steps. There was something warm about that. He was trying. They both were.

However it was Sebastian who ended up slipping off the last step.

Ominis and his new friends stood at the back of a herd of eleven-year-olds who began to walk almost as soon as the three of them got off the train. They quickly followed. At the head of the pack was a man who introduced himself as Mr. Moon - the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He inhaled quite a lot throughout his speech and Ominis found that rather annoying. Speech patterns aside, the groundskeeper led them down a rather steep gravel-covered path. It was still rather slick from the afternoon rain, which the young Gaunt did not appreciate in the slightest, but really that only made something amazing happen. Every time he slipped (which was only thrice, mind you) Sebastian would catch him.

Ominis really didn’t need him to. He didn’t need help . In fact, he never really even lost his footing - just slipped a little. Yet, Sebastian was there. He helped, and not in a demeaning way. He didn’t say anything. Just helped. But that was enough and Ominis felt a little warm around him.

The next obstacle, however, was worse .

There were many things that Ominis Gaunt did not like. He was a particular person after all. But rather high on that list was a simple little thing called water . He didn’t like it. He didn’t like floating in it, he didn’t like being doused with it, and he most certainly despised the thought of drowning in it.

Now, most unfortunately, he was led by this groundskeeper onto a dock of all things and waiting for the little first years, were boats . Waves lapped against the shore and the little wooden contraptions bumped against the dock. Ominis did not want to be in a boat. All the other first years were climbing on in and the boats rowed themselves away from the dock soon after being filled. Or at least, he assumed as much, as the accursed things bobbed their way out of his wand’s range. For the record, his wand was a little curious about the water. After all, it had experienced so little aside from the dusty wand shop which had housed it for most of its inanimate life. It wanted to learn of water, but Ominis would not indulge such curiosity.

“Oh, how lovely!” Anne chirped. “Boats!”

“No.” Ominis said simply.

Sebastian frowned. “No?”

“No,” He said again. “I’ll not be getting in one of those things.”

“Doesn’t look like you have another option, mate,” Sebastian noted. “Thats the only way to get to the castle.”

He crossed his arms. “There are carriages.”

“Those carriages over there?” Anne referenced some point in the distance. “Good luck. They’re at least a hundred meters to our right and moving fast.”

Ominis hesitated.

No,” He said again. “I’ll wait right here.”

Now, he was fully aware that he sounded like a spoiled child. But really - Boats!

“Oh, come on. Its not that bad,” Sebastian tried to persuade him.

“Drowning at age eleven seems quite bad!” He exclaimed.

“Ominis! They’re leaving us behind!” Anne pleaded.

He huffed. “Then you two go on. I suppose I’ll not be receiving an education.”

“Not without you.”

The twins were then unusually quiet for a moment, and Ominis really should have seen it coming. But he would learn. One day he would learn.

He felt a pair of hands grab onto each of his arms, and with a strength that belied their size, the twins lifted him into the little dingy waiting just off the dock. Ominis protested vehemently but that changed nothing. As he was set down, the boat rocked dangerously from side to side. He cried out, latching onto the sides with a death grip. But now that he was in the boat, it wasn’t like he could get out.

“You two are going to get it for this!” He spat - an entirely empty threat, but he felt it needed to be said.

“Whatever you say, Ominis.” Sebastian climbed into the boat next and Ominis just about lost all that candy from earlier as the thing teetered and tossed. Then Anne boarded next and all he could really do was grumble.

“Come on… you too,” Anne said once settled.

Ominis frowned. ”Hm?” He hadn’t heard anyone standing behind their little trio - no breathing, no footsteps.

Yet, the boat rocked again and a pair of robes brushed over his leg. A tiny, quiet little voice apologized.

“And what’s your name?” Anne asked as the boat began to move. Ominis just groaned.

“I-Irene.” This student was clearly a girl. She sounded more terrified than he was. “My name is Irene.” And she had a funny little voice too - flat and throaty, scratched up like she’d been screaming all day.

Ignoring the oohs and ahhs of his companions, (the other girl didn’t make a peep) Ominis tried very hard not to think about anything at all as their little boat approached the castle. Certainly not how just one wrong move would have him flailing in icy liquid until his clothing dragged him down to the depths of the Black Lake. Yes. He absolutely wasn’t thinking about that.

When finally their boats bobbed into a harbor that was apparently underground according to Sebastian, Ominis finally let himself breathe. Which was a relief as he was beginning to get a bit lightheaded. Sebastian and Anne climbed out first and together pulled him from the death trap dingy.

“Alright, up and out now,” Sebastian urged the other girl. Very helpful these twins were, he decided. Ominis heard the clasp of their hands and then… a second noise, this one none too pleasant. See, Sebastian tugged on the girl’s arm and there came a loud, rather stomach-churning pop. Ominis assumed it was her shoulder.

The poor little thing hissed but miraculously stayed upright in the boat. Seeing as their little group was the last to arrive and most of the other first years were already filling out, the little mishap garnered little attention. However, Anne, always so concerned, was positively mortified.

“Bloody hell, love! Are you okay?” She immediately climbed off the landing and back into the boat, before helping to lift the other girl out.

“I’m fine,” Irene said, still so quietly.

“I-I am so, so sorry…” Sebastian swallowed audibly. “I think you should get that looked at…” He sounded downright sick. There came another disgusting popping noise followed by a nasty grinding that made Ominis even more queasy than he already was.

“Great gobstones!” Anne gasped. “Did you just shove your shoulder back into its socket?”

Irene seemed to back away a bit. “It's fine… happens all the time.”

“Alright…” Sebastian scratched the back of his head. “Wait a minute, are you an American?”

Ah, so that’s what was so odd about her voice! Ominis had been looking in the wrong place, so to speak. It was her accent that was funny. The little oddity was American. How… exotic.

“Y-yes… I am,” Irene practically whispered.

“Well… God blind me,” Anne said.

“Language, Anne,” Sebastian teased.

“Oh, shove it.”

Ominis just huffed, still rather grumpy - or at least reminding the twins that he had been. “Well, come on! Let’s not miss the sorting.”

Pulling out his wand, he and the twins followed after the rest of the first years. The strange American trailed behind them, quiet as a mouse. Destiny awaited them. And all four of them knew it. Perhaps, however, with all fate had in store for them, they shouldn’t have been quite so giddy.

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kcrabb88 · 7 months

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So it's gonna be a while before this gets posted because I've got other stuff and I'm probably going to write this whole thing (for once) before I start uploading (I'm thinking it'll be about 5 chapters) but I'm obsessed with my QuinObi AIDS Crisis AU (set from 88-96) entitled Blood Makes Noise and wanted to share this little snippet I have after Obi-Wan gets his diagnosis (he is one of the lucky ones who survives in the end but obviously he doesn't know that here and it's a hard road):

There’s just one name that feels right when the kind nurse asks him if there's anyone he wants to call. Quinlan Vos. His best friend (love of his life). Best. Friend. (Love of his life). Positive.

HIV … positive. “Honey?” the nurse prods, putting one hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. She’s not scared to touch him. Not scared to breathe his air. “Yes.” Obi-Wan swallows, and the test results crumple in his clenched and shaking fist. “I’d like to call my best friend. Can I … could I use your phone?” His runs his thumb over the ACT UP button on his denim jacket while he waits for her to cart the phone in so he can call in private. It was one year ago today, exactly one year, when he heard Larry Kramer’s speech at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Community Services Center. When he heard him say AIDS was allowed to happen. It is a plague that need not have happened. Quin was there too. Quin’s voice is muffled with sleep when he answers. There aren’t music classes at the elementary school where he teaches on Fridays, so he must have slept-in. “Lo?” At first, Obi-Wan simply can’t speak. “Anyone there?” “Quin?” Tears cut into Obi-Wan’s voice despite himself. “Obes? You okay?” Quinlan asks in the lyrical lilt of his Haitian accent. “I’m at the HIV clinic down the street from my apartment. I’m—” He can’t say it. He must say it. He has to be brave enough to say what thousands of dead men before him have said to their loved ones. “I’m positive, Quin.” Obi-Wan breathes in deep. “I ... I can't call my dad yet." Even the thought of Qui-Gon makes Obi-Wan want to cry again. Qui-Gon, who is sitting at his desk at the ACLU without the knowledge that the kid he adopted and loves so much will die before he does. "I can't ... can you come?” “I’ll be there in ten, babe,” Quinlan says without a moment’s, a second’s, hesitation. “We'll call Qui-Gon together, yeah? Just sit right there. Right there, okay?” Obi-Wan says he will. So, he waits. He calculates.

#This fic is my precious little child #Blood Makes Noise #QuinObi #My fic #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Quinlan Vos #Star Wars tag

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fushiglow · 1 year

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sooo... can we all agree that this fight is definitely ending next week???

some (lots of) thoughts on the jjk 234 leaks below!!

i feel like i'm the only person who's still really enjoying this fight??? like i think it's great????? anyway.

i can't believe megumi had a TIGER SHIKIGAMI??? and now it's just GONE????? honestly, ever since the yorozu fight i've been bummed out by how much of megumi's growth sukuna has taken from him, but this one *really* hurt.

i convinced myself that gege would save the tenth shadow for the boy's big comeback (because i'm an idiot) 😭 i know there's still a ton of potential in megumi's domain but his precious animals!!!! ugh.

although speaking of comebacks — "how long are you gonna make me wait? you're no longer fushiguro's shadow, you're MINE" is suspicious as hell 👀 is mahoraga reluctant to follow sukuna's wishes??? WHY????

as for gojo, turns out he *is* the strongest because he's gojo satoru. i've got so much respect for him after all this, he doesn't even need to win to prove himself.

when hakari said gojo told them only to intervene when he's weaker than them, i laughed out loud. he's there with half an arm, no rct left, brain damage from using his domain too much, and you're telling me we're *still* not at that point?? like i knew the gulf between him and the next strongest was big but not THAT big??? just how strong is he???? 💀💀💀

as a side note, i'm *so* happy to see that the students have a plan in place!! and i love that gojo wasn't too proud to make one — although we knew that already. i hope we get more insight into what's happened over the last month in the coming chapters. (also will everyone stop coming for my boy yuta now??? he was just worried about his sensei!!)

still, i feel like the peek into the future on the last page spells either victory or death for gojo. the insight into sukuna's thoughts was very welcome and i'm glad to see that he's sweating as much as gojo right now. however, the dialogue about win conditions at the start of the chapter keeps playing on my mind. a lot could happen in 41 seconds and there's no guarantee that gojo is still standing by the time that hollow purple hits.

(by the way, are we thinking it's the same purple from the start of this fight swinging back around like red did a couple of chapters ago?? or is this the unlimited hollow thing from last week??? confusion)

i have no idea how this fight will end, but it definitely feels like next week's chapter will mark the conclusion. it lines up with the end of the volume, so it seems likely. anyone brave enough to make any solid predictions???

i keep changing my mind about what's going to happen. like i know we've all convinced ourselves that gojo will die (probably to prepare ourselves for the worst) but it seems too predictable for gege. i think he's done well to keep us guessing for this many months though.

anyway, the essay i started writing about gojo a few weeks ago has turned into a monster essay about gain and loss and karmic cycles and how they play out in this fight. unlikely that anyone else will care but i've spent too long rotting my brain over it not to post so... maybe later this week??

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 234 #jjk leaks #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #jjk manga leaks #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen leaks #呪術廻戦 #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #sukuna

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madrabit · 2 months

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Hi! ❤️ I'm here for FanFic Ask Game: F, G and X please :3

Heho 🩷✨️

Thank you for the ask, I had to really dig deep with this one 😂

If anyone else wants to ask me something about my fics, feel free to look at this list!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Ohhhhh, that is a tough question, I tend to like the dialogue I write, but it's not always my main focus, and I'm also not necessarily the funniest person, so... also, I couldn't decide, so you can have a sad dialogue, sth spicey and maybe an honourable mention or sth😂

for clarity, I've taken out a few parts of non dialogue for readability. If you want to read the whole thing, feel free to click the links!

"I'm sorry I didn't come with you", he continued when the other two didn't say anything, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said no."

So first, I have this snippet of You're the only one who can:

"I'm sorry for not being able to be honest", he pressed out, getting closer to the bed.

"For not being brave enough..."

"I didn't want this...", he said, his knees finally hitting the mattress, "I didn't want to make you feel like this..."

"I love you, both of you. So much. I didn't want to make you feel like I don't want you, don't need you, because I do. I need you so much that it scares me..."

"I don't want to have to hide you anymore", Jan said lowly, pressing their foreheads together.

This might be more of a monologue since it's mostly Bojan talking, but I honestly really like this, as well as Jan's reply. I liked writing it. It made me tear up, and I think it's showing a lot of the emotional chaos Bojan is going through in that fic and how much he still loves his boyfriends and how much he needs to show them, even though he doesn't wanna go public yet. It's cute and idk, I don't really like going on about my writing that much 😂😂

The other snip of dialogue I have is from chapter two of At your beck and call (I wanna ride):

"Isn't he perfect like that, Janči? Such a good boy for us", Nace says lowly.

"Yeah, he is", Jan presses out through his teeth.

"You know what would make him even more perfect? How he would look even better?" "He'd be even hotter dripping with both our come, fucked out, sloppy and wet, a good little boy, just for us."

It's the first fic North and I collabed on and it's still one of my favs. This is pure filth and Nace "Mr. Cum Kink" Jordan is running his mouth to get what he wants. Idk what possessed me here, but it felt right having Nace dirty talk like that, cause I think he'd be good at it ngl

Now to some honourable mentions 😂

I really like most of the dialogue I wrote in Intertwined.

Especially the little dialogue in the second chapter between Jan and Kris, where Jan was in front of the door waiting for Kris to buzz open the door for him because he didn't want to get out his key.

Or in chapter four (the big sad as I like to call it) when Bojan met Nace who was on a walk with Oli and they had their little back and forth about whether or not the band would've just taken any bassist as long as they got a dog that then shifted into Bojan talking about Igor being a good kitty.

I also have some dialogue from fics that are not yet published or where the next chapter isn't up yet, so if you want to know more about those, feel free to ask me 😊

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I wish I could just write my scenes out of order, that would make my process much easier and probably faster, but since I'm constantly coming up with things on the go and don't really like having to decide early what I still have to write, I don't really like doing things out of order. This sadly leads me to sometimes being stuck tho, so that's why writing always takes a while for me.

What I do, however, is going back and putting in more details. While I need to write things from start to finish, I love editing and love putting in little touches. I really hate having a blank page, so I hate having to come up with the first sentence of a fic or the beginning. I stall and don't know what to do, so I'm feeling unsure and awkward. The same thing applies if I have a blank page in front of me. That's why I sometimes pre write my dialogue in one go for a scene, just so I have words I can jump between and don't have the dread of the great nothing holding me back.

Also because sometimes dialogue comes easier to me, so I like writing it down and coming up with replies on the go is much easier than anything else.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Oh god... eh... I don't like making my blorbos suffer, I don't enjoy them being sad and I'm not a fan of unnecessary hurt... with what I'm writing in Intertwined, you might be convinced otherwise tho and somtimes I'm not too entirely convinced myself, ngl. But if by suffering, we mean crying, I do absolutely enjoy having Bojan cry (but mostly in a begging, shaking, sobbing way, less the actual real tears because he's sad), so yeah 😂😂😂

#ask game #fanfic ask game #fanfic talk #interwined #aybac #joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #jan peteh #nace jordan #bo(jan)² #bonace #bojance #joker out fanfic #feel free to send me asks!#fanfic #writing #ask

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targaryensluttt · 2 years

Text

muse on fire (chapter five)

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader

warnings: smut, fluff , light character description but still referred to as y/n, insert yourself and your features as much or as little as you'd like!

word count: over 4,500 I believe, idk

notes: I am so happy with the feedback and notes I've been getting on this. I'm so glad people understand my obsession with this man. mmmmpfh.

I honestly want to keep going for at least like five more chapters, but who knows?

I have also been debating switching from second person (you) to third, (she/her) because to me it reads smoother. I've kept it at least for this chapter because I want you guys to be able to live the fantasy like I do when I read/write this stuff. Thoughts?

Translations:

jurnegon around, ñuha jorrāelagon. = look around, my love

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

You awoke to being held, his face tucked into your neck, where he had marked you days before. The slight pressure of his chin resting on the spot made it sting slightly. The sting of it caused you to let out a small groan from the ache and arousal. His arm was wrapped securely under your bosom, clasping your own forearm.This was the first time in your life that you had awoken next to someone. Everyone had been dead and gone at such a young age, and the starts of your mornings had always been spent in solitude. Your heart was beating out of your chest with joy. So, he had stayed with you, you thought. You wished you could remain like this for the rest of your years. You would give much, anything, to have the Prince in your bed like this every morn. You looked over to him, and he was softly snoring. Hmmmm, a snorer, you giggled, with unreasonable delight at the opportunity to find things out about him no one else was privileged enough to know. You gently turned your body to face his, eager to observe him in such a peaceful state. When he was awake, Aemond always looked weighted down with worry. Even as a child, before his eye was taken (and more so after the event), his brow came to a natural furrow, and he was often seen pacing back and forth with a book in his hand, too concentrated to acknowledge the world around him, or in the training yard, practicing his swordsmanship with whatever poor fool felt brave enough that day to take him on.

But now, he was serene, even divine. His skin glowed in the morning sun. You frowned when you noticed he had slept with the leather patch on. It couldn’t be comfortable. Still, there would be time to prove to him that he had nothing to be self conscious of, especially around you. You would convince him that he was a true Adonis, a God sent to you from the Heavens above. You couldn’t resist reaching over to lightly trace his features. The prominent bow above his relaxed lips that had fallen into a slight pucker when he slept, down the crook of his long nose, his strong brows that rested above his eye and patch, down again to the side of his face and his chiseled jaw, concluding your short journey of his face by lightly dragging your fingers down his elegant neck, coming to rest at his collarbones. You wanted to kiss him, badly. Realizing there was no reason this couldn’t be done, you softly put your lips upon his, and were surprised when you felt his mouth respond back. He must have been awakened when you were exploring his face, you thought guiltily.

You gave him short kisses, at first. One, then two, three and four, lips meeting and lingering longer each time. Before long, he reached to graze his fingertips through your hair, and each time you broke away, enjoying the smacking sounds your lips made together, he started chasing your mouth, unwilling to part your lips.

“Mmmmmmmmmm” he gave a long, deep sigh when you broke apart for air. His eyes had stayed closed this whole time, letting himself savor the moments you spent exploring him. He would take whatever you were willing to give, gladly, enthusiastically, without reservation, he thought.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been woken up in such a bewitching way before.” He said, before returning his mouth to yours.

“I’m sorry to have woken you” You said softly, and you meant it, feeling genuine regret for disturbing his deep slumber.

He rubbed your noses together, so close you could feel his eyelashes brush yours, and replied, “An angel need not apologize for bestowing blessings from Heaven above.” Finally opening his eye to meet yours for a moment, he then closed it again when he kissed one corner of your mouth, then the other, before joining your lips once more. It was so warm, and he took his time, languidly swirling his tongue in your mouth and around yours, gliding and exploring. He reached down to grab your hip, and you responded by slinging your leg over his. The angle was perfect. You could feel his body resting against your cunt, his exposed skin from where his shirt had ridden up in sleep meeting between your legs, feeling your warmth that had increased substantially in the last few minutes. You gasped at the feeling. He was rubbing your side, feeling the dips and hills of your curves, and kissing you deeply, when you both heard the door open.

It was Millie. It had to be. You had forgotten everything that didn’t involve the man in your arms, including the fact that she would show up precisely at the same time every morning.

You automatically moved to sit up, to free yourself from the scandalous position you had gotten in with him. As you tried to spring up, you felt Aemond grab you to pin you down, so fast your body gave a slight bounce of resistance on your soft bed, but he just moved his body over yours.

“Jurnegon around, ñuha jorrāelagon. I drew the bed curtains after you fell asleep. Be still. She cannot see us.” he whispered into your neck, giving you small kisses, until he reached the spot he’d left the bruise two days ago.

“Good morning, Y/N. Surely you are not thinking of sleeping in on such a fine morning.” Millie said, cautiously. She was not stupid, and there was something in the tone of her voice that you she knew more about your current situation than you wanted her to.

Aemond had not stopped kissing your neck. In fact, he had only gotten more vigorous in his efforts, running his tongue over your bruise and giving you open mouth kisses down to the beginning swell of your breast.

Blushing furiously, hands tangled in the Prince’s hair, weakly trying to pull him up, (against every natural physical instinct your body contained) you replied hastily, “No, of course not Millie, I will be up momentarily to take breakfast.”

“Miss, the Princess Helaena would like you to join her and her babes this morning. I suspect she is concerned about you after last night, and wants to make sure you are well.”

“Very well. I will meet her in her chambers within the hour.” you replied, honestly just trying to end the conversation at that point.

You heard the door swing shut. She had taken the hint.

Playfully, you smacked the Prince who was still on top of you. “She could have heard you! She could have seen!”

“I suspect she already knows. She is loyal to you, anyway, I don’t care.” He said candidly and forcefully, speaking into your neck, grabbing your tits, and grinding his cock into your panties that covered your cunt.

The feeling of him covering your body like that was like nothing you ever felt before. The other night, you thought being on top of him was magnificent, and it was, but this felt the same, if not more. Your whole body was radiating pleasure.

“Oh my gods.” you moaned.

Feeling his thick cock lay on your cunt, you kissed him, swirling your tongue around his, biting his lip. Hard.

“Mmmmm.” He said, with a smirk on his face, and pulled himself away from you.

“Aemond! What?!” You asked him, unable to form full sentences, and tried to drag him back to you, body alight.

“It seems you have an obligation to attend to this morning, beloved, and if I do not cease now, you will not be leaving this bed in the foreseeable future.”

Beloved, he had called you.

You could have cried out of both joy and frustration. Your brain was short circuiting. You had no reply but to sit there and look at him with a mopey expression. It was the first time in a great while you wanted to throw a fit to get your way. You could beg, you thought. Surely, he would not be cruel to you, his beloved.

He watched you think, clearly amused, and reached for you once more, to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Spend the afternoon with me.” he said, stroking your hair and holding your face, eye meeting yours to gauge your response.

“I-” You thought about continuing to protest his departure, but relented at his suggestion of spending the day with him.

“Yes.” You said, “yes.”

“I will come for you after breakfast.” He responded, kissing the top of your hand, and then, regretfully, standing to leave.

You saw him adjust his hard cock in his trousers, trying to hide it, (although you suspected that would prove to be a difficult task for the Prince) staring at you all the while with a devilish look on his face, then turned, and left.

Falling back on your bed, you took a moment to collect yourself. You felt like you were burning in the sweetest fire, and a wicked idea drifted into your mind. You had to calm yourself before breakfast anyway, you reasoned. Helaena could sense moods well, she would know even more so that something was up if you came in there tense.

Closing your eyes, you touched your lips, which were still swollen from kissing Aemond. Reaching down lower, you lightly touched the bruise he had ran his tongue over only minutes before. It was still wet from his mouth. You reached up to grasp your breasts, wishing it was his large hands replacing yours. You remembered the way he had squeezed them, and rolled his fingers. You mimicked the action, and started breathing heavily again, open mouthed. Keeping one hand on your breast, you reached for your cunt, still noticeably wet through your underwear, and laid three fingers flat against your clit. You began rubbing at the pace Aemond had been thrusting his cock when he was humping you through his night pants. Thinking of him and the attentions he had given you this morning, and the other night, It was not long before you sped up and were writhing so hard you practically fell off the bed. Rather quickly, you had met your release, nothing but The Prince’s stare in your mind.

Coming down from the moment, you began to get dressed. Aemond was still very much on your mind. After your orgasm, though, you felt the bubble of bliss that had formed waking with him in your bed begin to deflate.

You had been at the Red Keep for now twenty years. You had grown up with the royal family.

The Queen had all of that time to betroth you to her son, if she wanted to.

And she had not.

Aemond was willful, and good at getting what he wanted, yes, but you weren’t even positive what he wanted was you. At least, not like that. Not for the rest of his life. He had certainly not yet said so.

You knew he would not dishonor you on purpose. But you found yourself wondering if he had just been caught up in the moments between you two, acting on what was a simple flirtation in his mind. The connection you had was real, surely, you felt it as much as you could feel the grass between your fingers, or the flames roaring in your fireplace. But was it enough for him, to give himself up to you, body and soul, for all your lives? Because that was what you wanted from him. For him to truly be yours, unabashedly.

He was dashing. He was beyond intelligent, and talented at everything he set his mind towards. He was the dragon rider of the largest in the world. He could be ruthless, and there was a whole world out there, his oyster for the taking, if he wished it so.

And you. An orphan. Not the most graceful woman around, nor a Princess, with little but gold coin to offer his family and your heart to offer him.

What if he thought of you as he would a mistress?

Your heart panged painfully, the thought of it made you feel nauseous. Humiliated, even.

You frowned, the topic weighing heavily on your mind, and made your way to the Princess’s chambers.

The walk there was a blur, as you were so lost in thought, and you almost walked right into the knight stationed outside her room.

Nodding once at you, seeming not to notice you almost tripping over him, or at least really good at pretending he didn’t, he opened the door and announced your presence.

Seeing you enter, Helaena put down the apple she was about to bite into, and ran towards you, enveloping you into a hug.

“Y/N!!!” she squealed, hugging you harder.

Momentarily, the despair that had entered your mind had vanished. The Princess always made you feel better- she was so warm, so genuinely kind, and you could tell she really did care about you a lot.

You hugged her back, and noticed her blonde haired twins babbling in the middle of the room, laughing and playing with the many toys the Princess had spoiled them with. The sight gave you more cause to smile. You were so glad Helaena had them. Her own little family, you thought, and your heart panged with a bit of jealousy, never having had anything of the sort yourself.

She pulled back to look at you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“Sister, how are you? You gave me such a fight when your head hit the floor last night!”

She called you sister on and off during your lives, but lately, you noticed she was doing it even more so. It made your heart warm. It was an honor to you that she thought of you so.

“I am fine,” you replied, blushing with embarrassment that you had worried her by fainting.

“I will believe you, but only because I was told the Maester has cleared you!” She said, teasingly.

“And where did you get this information, Princess?” You asked back, curious of her sources, but mostly teasing her as well.

“Aemond told me this morning, of course.”

“He told you?” You asked her, trying to sound casual but most likely failing miserably.

“Of course, Y/N. I tried to show him Jaehaera‘s new tooth, and he ignored me completely! It was all he could speak about!” She said, almost indignantly.

Your heart pounded in your eardrums. It seemed he was not doing a good job keeping your new relationship a secret. He never was good at hiding his feelings anyway. But how far did those feelings truly stretch? Maybe he was able to talk so much about you freely because he did not take it seriously, and did not feel the weight of the situation as you did?

“Y/N, something troubles you, I can tell” Helaena said, looking at you very solemnly.

“It’s nothing, Princess. Let us eat and play with the twins! I feel like I haven’t seen them much lately.” You insisted, and she relented at the mention of her babies, letting you draw her to the middle of the room where Jaehaera and Jaehaerys played. You stopped by the breakfast table that was full of a wide variety of fruits, juices, pastries, and jams, then proceeded to pick out both of your favorites, along with some soft things specifically for the twins, that would be gentle on their developing teeth that often still pained them.

You all sat cross legged on the floor, enjoyed your breakfast, and had a delightful time, chatting with one and other and laughing with the children. They really were good babies, you thought. Attached to their mother, so much so that if she left them for too long they would endlessly wail until she returned, but could anyone really blame her for raising them like that? You definitely did not. If you ever had children, you thought, you also would want them to be your constant little companions. You did not wish to leave the raising to nannies and maids and septas. You had been so alone in that way as a child, and you feared that as a mother, you would be hard pressed to let them out of your sight.

Jaehaera had fallen asleep in your arms mid you trying to feed her some porridge. You stared down at her, watching her sleep peacefully in your arms, and smoothed back her hair, that was as silver as her parents, of course.

“She was up all night. I am glad she is finally resting, her teeth were bothering her and nothing the Maesters gave me for her seemed to make her any better.”

“Poor babe” you said, still staring, enjoying the weight of a baby in your arms.

“Y/N, would you ever want children?” Helaena asked, watching you observe the sleeping baby. The subject surprisingly had not come up between you two before. The twins were very active usually, and they kept you both busy focusing on their antics to have moments of peace when you two could really talk.

“Yes, very much so.” You confessed to her, in a small tone, smiling sadly.

Helaena lightly touched your hand that rested on her baby’s head, and whispered slowly, ”four…four of them.”

You snapped your head up to look at her when she said this to you. She had a wide eyed, unfocused look on her face. You just stared back at her in shock until she shook her head left and right, seeming to come back to the room you were in.

“Helaena…what…” you asked, thoughts scattered, too scared to ask what she meant by that. Because you already knew, really.

She just moved her hand that was still resting on yours to the side of your face briefly, smiled, and let her hand fall. It seems she had no reply to your unformed question. Your heart pounded against your chest, and swelled with hope. Four of them, she had suggested. You wanted to put the thought of it all out of your mind. Having hope like that was dangerous, and made for a higher fall when you were torn from that high up place. You also knew Helaena’s thoughts, or prophecies, as some called them, could be interpreted in many ways.

The rest of your breakfast was quiet, both of you trying not to disturb the now both sleeping babies. The Princess had decided she would rest along with them, as she was also unable to sleep when they were in pain the night before. You bid them all goodbye, and gently laid Jaehaera in her ornate crib, kissing her on the forehead before you turned to leave.

Walking down the halls, you felt a combination of both sadness and content, the latter being because of the wonderful morning you’d had with two of your favorite people, and sadness at Helaena’s sudden prediction, not truly being able to believe something so beautiful could happen to you. You had accepted being alone, without anyone really wanting to make you part of their family. You were even comfortable in the loneliness. It was safe. You could not get hurt there.

Then, two days ago, you and your best friend had kissed in the middle of the night in his chambers, and you felt yourself changing. Desire of all kinds had been re-awakened within you, including the renewed feeling of wanting to belong somewhere, to have true kin of your own. For someone to make you their home. Preferably, someone with long blonde hair, an eyepatch, and the largest dragon in all of Westeros. But, you scolded yourself for having these feelings. You felt yourself wanting to retreat back into solitude, where it was safe and predictable.

Lounging back in the little nook by your window, you curled up with a book you had read many times before, and wondered if The Prince really would come for you this afternoon. It was not as if he had ever ditched you intentionally before, but he was a busy man, bound to his duties. Huffing, you slammed your book shut and held your head in your hands, frustrated at yourself for caring so much. Just as you were trying to redirect your train of thought to something that didn’t involve the dashing Prince who was invading every corner of your mind, you heard something hit your window. You ignored it, at first, until you heard it again. And again. Lifting your head, you peered down, to see the same man standing below in the grass who had been occupying your thoughts.

“Y/N!” He called.

You opened your window wider and leaned out further, so you could hear him better, with a big, stupid grin on your face at the sight of him.

“My Prince. This is certainly an unorthodox way to get my attention. You’ve not thrown rocks at my window since we were one and three.” You said, teasing him.

“Yes, well, that may be so…but will you still do me the honor of joining me in the garden?” He asked, hands cupping his mouth to project his voice, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Hmmmmmm,” you replied, still teasing him, and put on a thinking expression, then raised your hand to put your first finger on your cheek and your thumb under your chin. You might have puffed your chest out so your bosom was displayed for him to admire from below, but if he ever asked about that, you would adamantly deny it was on purpose.

“Don’t make me climb up there and get you that way. You know I will, dearest.” He said, grinning wickedly.

You shivered at the suggestion his words contained. You knew he would climb your wall and carry you down himself if he had to. He was jesting back, but also completely serious in his threat to take the drastic course of action. It was a tempting thought, and you seriously considered making him wait longer, just so he would make good on his threat.

Relenting, you told him yes, you would, trying to keep your voice impassive but knowing your expression of pure happiness would betray your real feelings about being asked to stroll in the gardens with him.

You practically ran down the stairs, lifting your skirts so you wouldn’t trip and avoiding colliding into servants who stood to the wall to let you pass in a hurry. You slowed yourself before reaching the main doors, wanting to appear more nonchalant before Aemond than you actually felt. When the guards went to open the large doors that led outside, you abandoned that idea, impatiently tapping your foot while the heavy doors took forever to swing open.

He was waiting for you right past them. You smiled brightly at him,and he reached for your hand to give it a soft kiss as a greeting, keeping his eye on you all the while. He did not release your hand, rather, he intertwined your fingers together, and wordlessly led you to the inner gardens. You walked past other nobles and staff. They whispered in each others ears the moment their eyes locked on you and Aemond walking hand in hand. You looked to him for guidance, or a reaction, but he kept his face ahead, his signature sly smirk adorning his face the rest of the walk.

He didn’t seem worried about what the hell they assumed anyway. It was not as if anyone would dare challenge him. You had to remind yourself that he was known as the most fearsome, capable, and daring Crown Prince in the castle. Violent too, to those who crossed him. He was rarely unarmed, even if he outwardly appeared to be, like today, he wore his long black coat with the silver clasps, but you’d bet ten gold dragons that he had his handsome dagger, the one he’d held to his own brother’s throat just the night before, made of valyrian steel and dragonbone, hidden in it’s black sheathe under his jacket.

You reached the gardens, and took in the scene before you. It was like he had recreated yours and Helaena’s picnic a few days prior, but far more extravagant. There was a table low to the ground, filled with silver bowls of exotic fruits, breads, honey, fresh, creamy butters, flagons of red and white wines, and numerous books piled high capping the end. He had also had some of your drawing supplies brought down, and your sketchbook, too. A wooden flat black box with intricate gold carvings was purposely laid in the center. The ground was layered with thick quilts and furs, and a small tent had been set up in case you wished to get out of the sun. It was a nice autumn day, still cool from it being the early afternoon, but sure to warm up later.

You looked at him, dumbstruck, with no real response in your mind, but to grab him and hug him as hard as you could. He gripped you back, and for a long moment, you two just stood there holding each other, swaying softly, his hand stroking your hair, both enjoying the moment. He spoke first, but not to you. With a quick dismissive wave of the hand that was holding your waist and a “You may leave us,” the garden’s courtyard cleared of castle staff quickly. He lifted your chin from its resting place on his chest, and said, “I wish to give something to you.”

“But Aemond, My Prince, this is already too much, I don’t even know what to say.” you replied, blushing hard but a smile still lingering on your face.

“This is nothing. For you? This is nothing, darling. I’d do anything, anything, for you, and I want to make you see. You have to know. You must know…” he said, trailing off, fingers caressing the side of your face, down your neck to the tops of your exposed shoulders.

He released you, only to turn to the table to grab the handsomely decorated box. It had golden dragons breathing fire, two of them, intertwined.

“This made me think of you. It has been in my family for a very long time, and I wish for you to have it.” he told you, whispering in your ear from behind. You heard him unlatch the box and move your thick hair to one side of your neck. He then took what was in the box out, and you held your breath as he draped a delicate silver chain around your neck and clasped it shut.

You felt the weighty pendant lay above your breasts, and you looked down to see what it was.

A large, black opal. Bigger than a golden dragon coin, and it sparkled brilliantly in the sun. Aemond moved back to the table, to grab a mirror, and handed it to you, so you could have a better look at it. You gasped. It was as if it contained the essence of fire itself. Deep within the black stone, flickers of reds, orange, blue and green danced in the light. You couldn’t keep your hands off of it, even as a wealthy lady who had owned more than her fair share of jewels, you had never seen a piece so enchanting before. You shook your head in disbelief. Just as he did this morning, he rested his chin in the crook of your neck, watching your reaction closely in the mirror, and asked you tentatively, “Do you like it?”

You laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question, and spun around. “Like it? Like it?! Aemond, I…” you paused, making sure to meet his eye, willing him to understand your feelings not only about the necklace, but hint about the ones you had for him too, and said, “I love it. I adore it. It is too much for someone like me. I cannot possibly accept.” Even though, you wanted to.

You looked back down at the black opal, which was now glimmering orange and red in the light, and looked back up at him, gaze landing on his lips. Clicking his lips with disproval, he began, “You would deny me?,” likely to argue with your statement about the necklace being too beautiful for you, but you stopped him, laying a finger upon his lips. He silenced himself, but kissed it. Your heart swelled at the gentle gesture. You did not yet have the words you needed to show him how you felt, or even the courage to really acknowledge them. How touched you were by this moment. You wanted, needed, to show him. Tentatively, as technically you were still in a very public setting, you raised yourself up to your toes, and joined your lips with his. You kissed him deeply, and slowly. You tugged at his hair, that was done loosely half up with a silver clasp in the back, freeing it. You did not let him take a breath that was not one you shared. He responded enthusiastically, and held you tight around your waist. The birds chirped, the bees buzzed, and the trees rustled, but neither of you heard anything that wasn’t the sweet smack of your lips coming together and apart, again, and again, and again.

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@parabatai-winchester

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@landlockedmermaid77

as always, let me know if you wish to be added or removed :) <3

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic

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