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#I'm not done mourning yet.
radnewworld · 1 year
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do you remember when/how you first became really into sci-fi (whether the general aesthetic or the concepts)?
I doooooooo...
I was six or seven years old, sitting on the couch watching Star Trek TNG reruns with my father. Can't remember which episode it was, but Tomalok was in his second or third appearance so it was season 1 or 2, and the peaceful resolution confused me. Tomalok was a treacherous Romulan, yet Picard seemed to do everything he could to avoid just blasting the pointy eared asshole. My young American brain couldn't puzzle it through, so I asked my father, "dad, why doesn't Picard kill the bad guy? He's evil!"
He replied almost immediately, "because it would cause a war."
But ha, I immediately saw through a simple ploy. "The Enterprise could blast all the Romulans." The Enterprise D was by far the coolest thing I'd ever seen, so it made total sense that the flagship could lay waste to an entire fleet of D'Deridex warbirds.
"Even if it could, lots of people would die," the elder ginger replied. "Picard fixed the problem without people dying by being clever and persuasive. That's how kind, wise people solve their problems."
I still thought Picard should have wasted the sneaky bastard, but I also wanted to be a captain some day, so I figured there was something to this Not Fighting thing. I continued watching TNG and it sunk in hard. The character of Jean-Luc Picard was part of a world that offered a view of the future that I wanted to explore more. Trek hooked me into scifi more than anything else. Easy to recognize now how fanciful that future was, to the point of ridiculousness, but the optimism and ethical cornerstones of the Federation that appealed then are still ideals I think are well worth striving for.
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c0sm0butch · 2 years
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Me for like 2 years after reading gtn and htn: WOW I sure hope Harrow can kick ass enough to achieve perfect lyctorhood with Gideon, woo mega necromancers, wouldn't it be so cool and perfect if Judith snaps out of Being Second™️ for ten minutes so she and Corona can do the same and be happy, HELL YES
Me after reading Nona and meeting Paul: ........actually.......... nevermind.........
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I swear I've gone through every emotion known to man.... (And then some) today...
#spiteful angry a little happy and proud judgemental upset sad mourning#the list can go on#its been a day#my thoughts#mom went to detox today and will be in recovery for a month#i already feel lighter with her gone#but conflicted because i wasn't there for her#but i couldn't be because she wouldn't let me#and genuinely i didnt want to be because she was simultaneously never there for me#but shes done more for me than i ever could've asked in some ways#but i also never asked to be born wish i was never born and feel like ive never belonged here#like i was meant to be aborted but was born instead#and yet despite it all I'm angry at the world for the cards she was dealt#for the way she was treated as a child#and the way no one was there for her and moved on pretending like all was fine#(some generational trauma she picked up and carried over)#upset at her siblings and friends for never being there for her like she needed (but i also understand that she pushed everyone away and im#In the same boat as them in that sense#but also shes my mother and im her child and shes never been there's for me so how could i possibly know how to be there for her#i hate being understanding because white hot anger and hatred is easier#so much easier#ignorance is bliss frfr#part of me is also proud of her for finally doing this#scared that she might get mistreated at the facility furthering her trauma scared of her relapsing and what that will look like#wanting to be a support fixture for her when she comes back at the end of the month but realistically knowing i cant#spiteful because where is her support system right now? everyone has failed her#spent years enabling and ignoring her#i hope she has a support system or can curate one because it cant be me#it just cant#mother wound
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answrs · 4 months
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they're finally home. i haven't opened the packages yet but after four years my girls are finally home.
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talentforlying · 5 months
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WHY DID THE AUTHOR KILL YOU OFF?
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DEATH AS REDEMPTION. some things cannot be forgiven. what a shame, then, that so many consider forgiveness to be the be-all, end-all of character redemptions. or that forgiveness in itself is the redemption. whatever sins you committed, whatever actions weigh your soul down, the author has decided that you cannot make up for it . . . and so they will not let you try. no, you will not even be allowed to try and put as much positivity into the world as possible. ( you cannot restore the balance, but surely you could do something? ) instead, there is only one thing to do: sacrifice yourself. you'll take a bullet meant for the hero, or tackle the villain off a cliff ( dooming you both ), or you'll use the last of your magic to get everyone else out safely.
when the heroes speak of your death, they will act as if you have undone all your wrongs, as if dying was the holiest gift you were capable of giving. i cannot help but wonder . . . how much more could you have done, if you had only been given the chance?
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fa-dubu · 2 years
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not to sound unsympathetic to his plight, but thancred is doing a shit parenting job. ‘i only wants what’s best for her’; ‘i want to see her happy and cared for’; ‘i want to see her find what she wants to do in life’
ok then FUCKING TELL HER.
instead of being all distant yet overprotective, snapping at her whenever she does anything remotely risky, tell her all that, fool!!!!!
and everyone is standing around looking all sad but not doing shit about it and just telling minfilia jr ‘chin up, kid, he’ll come around’ while she’s going through some of the roughest times of her young life
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shadow4-1 · 29 days
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I'm just imagining the 141 looking for a medic because all of the ones they sign on keep dying or getting poached by other task forces. And you're a baby medic who is shadowing your higher rank and well esteemed teacher (who is actually the one on the 141's radar). But something goes horribly wrong...
You've done everything you possibly can but he's still drowning in his own blood.
He's tried walking you through everything through wheezing, wet breaths. He has a knowing look in his eye, this isn't working and it won't work. You're in the EVAC helicopter, but the time it'll take to get you back to base is too long.
"I-I'm sorry." You whimper, tears forming on your lashes. "I'm not a very good student."
Your mentor smiles sadly, his eyes glassy. He was always sweet to you when he was no nonsense with everyone else.
"You're doing great, kid." He huffs, blood leaking out the corner of his mouth. He winces and sputters up more but you're there. You try to fill up his vision and give him something to focus on. "People crash. Don't give up on 'em till it's over."
You cradle his head, memorize every wrinkle, scar, and patch on his kit. And then, it hits you.
He's right, its not over yet.
You rip through your medical supplies with shaking hands. It feels like it takes forever but it's merely seconds before you're sticking a needle from your vein into his. You watch the bag as it quickly fills with your blood before entering into him.
Your mentor chuckles and shakes his head weakly. This is nowhere near anything he taught you. But he knows it might just save his life since you're both the same blood type.
You go through multiple more needles releasing pressure on his lungs until he's even more stable than before. He finally has a shot and that's all that matters.
You're so close. Fifteen minutes out when he starts to crash again. You've exhausted everything. Your medical supplies are dwindling. You have no more blood to give. Your teacher just continues to smile at you. And he keeps smiling at you and he keeps smiling at you. You rub at his face, his eyes are far away. You feel for his pulse.
You scream.
It's not one of fear, but a deep, mournful cry. You turned your comms off forever ago but you know everyone could hear you, even through the wind. It carries your scream off and away as the heli's motors clip around you. You feel empty. He was supposed to teach you more. He was supposed to live.
You scream again and throw yourself over him. You sob and scream and grab at him, trying desperately to look for vitals. You know you won't find one but you're delirious. He's supposed to live! You did everything right!
Tears blur your vision but you notice someone out of the corner of your eye. It's one of the members of a different task force assigned to help your squad with this now terribly failed mission. He's their Captain, you think. He tries to reach down but you hiss at him. You don't care about rank. You don't care about the social ramifications. You scream to be heard over the wind.
"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"
The man's eyes soften. You don't imagine what you look like. You probably look wild, feral, gnashing your teeth and growling. You don't care. He's YOUR teacher, he's YOUR responsibility. Quite frankly, you don't trust any of the other strangers watching you. You hiss at them too. Then you cry again.
You bury your face into your now dead mentor's chest and sob.
- - - - -
The look in your eye is like nothing he's ever seen before in a medic.
Price had watched you exhaust every possible avenue to save your superior's life. When all else failed you gave him your own blood. And when he finally succumbed to his injuries you threw yourself over him, not allowing anyone or anything to get close.
Even when they arrived on base, when your other superiors tired to swoop in, you stood your ground.
"I don't care! Even in death he's MY patient!" You yelled at your own Captain.
And surpisingly, they let you take care of him to the end. They even let you escort his body to the morgue. It's where Price finds you hours later.
You sit in a rusty old folding chair just outside the morgue doors. Your eyes are glazed over, far away, and still brimming with tears. He kneels in front of you to get on your level. He doesn't say anything, just waits for you to finally see him. You blink slowly and look up at him.
"I-I'm sorry..." You apologize. "I d-didn't mean t-"
"It's alright, Love." He hums and offers you a tight smile. "I understand."
He pats your knee in a fatherly way before standing up. His knees pop and he winces. You immediately stand up, your eyes searching him up and down.
"S' alright, I promise. Just a lil' stiff s' all." He soothes. "I need you to come with me."
He notices how your pretty lil' eyes widen. He shakes his head and offers a hand to help you out of the chair.
"You're not n' any trouble, sweetheart. I just want to talk with you."
He looks down at you with a knowing, sweet smile.
Your commitment is exactly what he's looking for.
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irisintheafterglow · 9 months
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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.
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"so you're both megumi's..."
"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.
"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.
you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.
"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"
"not for me, no."
"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."
"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.
"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"
"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.
"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.
"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.
"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."
"i think that'd be worse than satoru."
"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.
"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.
"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.
"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.
"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."
"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.
"your teacher says you're doing well in class."
"really?"
"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."
"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.
"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.
"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."
"trying to follow my example?"
"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."
"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.
"i'm one of a kind!"
"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."
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poptartmochi · 2 years
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why is it every time I have a mental breakdown, I also have a breakthrough with miss gioia. she and the illness are linked your honor 🆘
#i took a shower and i feel better now.. i think i concluded why i felt so bad.. since ren faire and my little managerial stint are over‚#i have finally concluded the ''I Can't Work on the Garage'' era which started in like.. May?#so i think my brain was mourning the time that went by in a very mysterious way.. it's crazy to think about how much time has passed#in january we'll have been in this house for a year and we've barely moved in 🕴️i have yet to unpack my room..#besides that i think i was emotionally Up In Arms because man I don't want to work on the fucking garage 😭#but it must be done... storage is $200 a month and the things that remain are way too heavy to justify moving into a smaller container#i just have to finish it over the next few months.. pleakse GOD let it be swift!!!!#after that i will have my multiple jobs era and maybe my mom will get a divorce and i can start saving up for college again#I gave up on it bc my dad is so financially irresponsible that my money was basically going towards the mortgage or storage or his credit#bills 😔 even now I'm kind of anxious because I don't know if we'll have enough to pay for this month's stuff#i feel like I've been living groundhog day with this situation.. every time i think things might be okay my mom tells me what my dad has#spent and the anxiety starts all over again. and that's just me!!! i think i would have died if i was her :(#but this chapter must end somehow. im going to see that through if it kills me#anyways mini therapy moment aside it is time for me to ramble about gioia hehehe 🤪🤪🥴#sriracha.txt
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silkythewriter · 4 months
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Heyy so weird request but could you do a vox x reader who has a kinda one sided rivalry with him in the sense every time he releases tech she'll challenge herself to make a better version
Vox with a one sided rivalry with reader!
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Warnings!: A tad tinne winne bit of angst!, sorry if he’s OOC! (˃̣̣̥ ^˂̣̣̥`)
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!: OOOOOO I haven’t written rivals to lovers in a bit! Hopefully it’s not too bad!
( ̄▽ ̄)💧
Summary!: One sided rivalry with are favorite TV demon (ノ ≧∀≦)ノ
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
“In the morning, you would gone
I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To
the memory of your lips God,
I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?“
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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Devastated, like actually in greif
After YEARS of not even a single demon upon billions below in the forsaken place called hell could make a DENT in the empire he built. But then you came along! With all your Gezmos and trinkets! (He refuses to call them anything other then that)
He is insecure, no matter how much he puts a face on about not having a fear in the world. He dose, he’s terrified of being replaced or knocked off the top!
The first time you released something after he did he merely laughed. You? A small tiny little business? What idiot would do that!? Your product was most definitely gonna be looked over!
Or that is what he thought at first (ಡ‸ಡ)…
Soon he realized how quick your growth to fame was. And honestly had a melt down, who even were you?!
He makes back handed complements on his TV show like for example “and on recent news a new technology has been released by *insert your name/company name*, looks a bit cheap but it’s okay for their first time!”
Yea expect those a lot…
He’s use to company’s butting heads with him, but he always squashed them in under a day! If not less!, so he was bewildered when you just kept popping up everywhere. He doesn’t even know how. half of the channels in hell are owned or under his name! Or at least played on HIS tvs!.
And when he released a product only for the next day for it to get a bit over shadowed by yours he loses it. He immediately thinks your doing this on purpose, he thinks your doing this as a means to get his attention.
Will never admit it but he bought one just to break it outta rage but after a bit he understood the hype, will take this to his second death bed.
He’s never had a good look at you before maybe a small invention or gala for some of the highest company owners in hell. And let me tell you when this man saw you he was shocked, it took velvet to snap her fingers for him to get out of his trans-like-state. He’s more embarrassed then he’s ever been, not only are your products prove to be a good runner up to his but you were making min lose his breath.
He didn’t wanna believe at first before velvet confirmed it to him.
And may i say, the minute you glanced at him and gave him a charming smile while waving your hand at him with a small glint of pride in your eyes, he actually had a system crashed screen as his whole system rebooted.
It wouldn’t be long till you made your way over to him trying to introduce yourself(•̀ᴗ•́)و
Honestly he couldn’t think straight until you excused yourself to talk to another business owner. He dosent understand, for all the years he’s been dead how is his heart beating so fast for you?
In denial about any feelings towards you, it can’t be! He despises you !, right?
Takes him a bit to work up the courage to talk to you again, as he introduced himself properly with as much passive aggressive charm he could muster. Only to be confused at your sweet yet passive aggressive smile as you shook his hand with such care
How can someone be so competitive yet so sweet?
We’re you trying to woo him on purpose!?(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
He didn’t understand even though he knew your intent, and the underlying nature in your interaction. He still found it charming, and shocking at you technical level and marking tactics. He isn’t happily impressed, but he is definitely impressed, he would never show that though of course.
It always seemed no matter how much of a short time between releases you always managed to make it better he just didn’t understand how!. How did you have such short time to perfect something that he’s been working at for months!
He soon realizes out shinning you or squashing you business wasn’t gonna work. You guys were too evenly matched, it would be through pure luck that one of you would out shine the other one day and not the next. So he did the best next thing, purposed a business deal (quite reluctantly might I add)
To just merge company’s he knew your rise wouldn’t falter anytime soon.
At first you felt like this was a trick, to steal your soul or take you out while your walls were down. But he quickly explained it’d be easier to just have you work on things and share the profit (surprise, surprise)
Now you can decide weather you accept or not!
But after that meeting he would call you over for many more strictly for business meetings! Definitely not just desperate to spend time with you or anything
Even when you proposed to just, email, or text, he still declined saying he found it easier to say what he needed out loud. Definitely…. (≖ᴗ≖✿)
Sooner or later you’d catch on, or some people on the news would gossip of your “secret affairs”
You would soon confront him about this, and let me tell you this man is decent at standing under pressure in some if not most situations expect this one.
I feel like he wouldn’t admit it till MANY months later cause he’s just that stubborn
He just hates it, he hates your stupid smile, the way you make his stomach do back flips, the small glint of happiness and pride when your product is loved and bought by the millions. He hates the smile you keep even if at a rivalry with him. He hates everything about you, he hates it, he hates it so much he ends up realizing he loves it.
Yea he is one complicated man….
But once he finally admits it, and you end up giving it a shot. This guy would try to act like he wasn’t about to shut down, like his inner fans and vents weren’t about to self implode, he’d act cool and collected about it but behind closed doors he’s quite literally smiling like a dope
NOW if this were released to the public, the mess that would ensue is scandals upon scandals.
I mean! Imagine the head lines! “Two of hells most biggest company rivals now together?!”
News is fast to spreed lemme tell you that
I feel like he would rather have the relationship private but if it got out…let’s just say he wouldn’t stop it either per say (¬‿¬)
Overall! I feel like even if it was a one sided rivalry I feel like it would quickly turn to both of you butting heads. Cause to out shine the king of tech himself is quite the challenge, and you being able to do that says a lot!, he’ll be holding a grudge even into a relationship and still would get competitive here to there he would definitely still study your work to see how you improve so fast!. Still in the end of the day he’ll still dote on you behind close doors!
ପ(๑•̀ᴗ-♡ॢ)⋆*✩
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WOWZA THAT WAS ALOT OH MY GOSH
ヘ(。□°)ヘ
I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!, I haven’t written rivals to lover plot in a bit BUT MY GOSH NESS ITS VERY FUN TO PLAY AROUND WITH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN! O(≧▽≦)O
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kindnessisstillhere · 2 years
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Death
Topics England is bored of for £20.
Seriously, this is a big deal,
And it’s gonna change a lot of things,
But hell can we hear about something else?
There’s definitely other news happening,
Undoubtedly other actions going on,
And We’re tired of this death parade.
It’s making everything a circus;
The royals have never looked more like clowns,
So can we see something new on TV?
Get news actually spoken about,
Like the things happening in the Ukraine?
Or hell, adverts being adverts again,
Those billboards make me hate her face.
Death is solemn, private, quiet,
So why must this be anything but?
Death happens to one person,
Then it changes a family,
I argue with it freezing a country.
Can we hear about the cost of living crisis,
And what measures will be made to help?
No. Just the death of the monarch.
Queen has been said too much to be a thing.
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writeroutoftime · 10 days
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true love's kiss
pairing: azriel x reader
summary: when azriel is hit with a powerful poison what - or who - will be able to save him?
warnings: talks of death, angst
words: 2.8k (buckle up)
a/n: my first azriel story and I'm so excited!! this idea just popped in my head the other day, and I ran with it lol. it was so much fun to write, so I hope you have just as much fun reading it!
(p.s. requests are open if you'd like to send anything in!)
oOoOo
Without warning, your heart began to pump furiously and an uneasy feeling settled over your body. Your muscles tensed up, as if preparing for an attack, and only moments later, you noticed Feyre's glazed over eyes widened in fear. Lunch suddenly postponed, she shot to her feet and ran towards the living room while you, Mor, and Amren quickly trailed behind. 
Before you even stepped foot in the room, your suspicions were confirmed as the scent of blood and fear smacked you in the face. There was a brief space of time in which you mourned for the anguish Feyre would feel over an injured Rhys. However, the image of Rhys and Cass heaving an unconscious Azriel onto the couch suddenly seared itself into your mind. 
"What happened?" you whispered the words over the commotion, though it rang out loud and clear to the Inner Circle despite its wobble. 
"We were ambushed in Windhaven." Cass explained while Rhys reached into the void to call for Madja. "Az's side was struck with a sword, but it must have been laced with poison. One second he was standing behind me, and the next thing I knew, he let out a shout before collapsing almost immediately." 
Tears lined your eyes at the thought, and the pain didn't register when you dropped to the ground beside Azirel, hands hovering over his body. The dark swirl of shadows that nearly obscured him from view parted for you, allowing you access to their master. 
"Oh, Azriel." you breathed out, only distinguishable to you and his shadows. The later wisping gently around your face, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. You leaned into the gesture, wishing it was Azriel's palm against your skin. 
Suddenly, you felt strong arms pull your shoulders away from Azriel as Madja stepped in and took your place, her gaze instantly drawn to his wound. Meanwhile, your family stepped back in fear. Rhys held Feyre tight in his grasp, and Cassian offered you and Mor each a comforting hand.
The only sounds for the next few minutes were Madja's grunts and huffs as she did her best to treat the injury. You couldn't help but cringe into Cass' side as her hands turned a dark-red, tinted from the blood that should have long ago clotted. It felt like an eternity before the healer turned around to face all of you, her face worn. 
"I've done what I can to stabilize him, but the sword that struck our Shadowsinger was indeed laced with a poison I have yet to see. Unfortunately, it still seems to be working his way through his system. I can't say for certain how much time he has, but I will work swiftly to find an answer." she explained solemnly, taking in the pained expressions of you and your friends. "All I do know is whatever the cure ends up being, it needs to be a strong source of magic. I'm sorry I can't offer better news."
Rhys was the first to break through the stunned silence. "Thank you, Madja. C-can we move him somewhere more comfortable?" 
The healer nodded before taking her leave. In her stead, all of you gaped in shock before Rhys and Cass worked together to move Azriel to a bed where they thought he would be more comfortable. Once they got him settled, you pulled a chair up, next to his bed, a stack of thick, dusty books beside you. If there was nothing you could do at the moment, by the cauldron you would at least help Madja research a cure. 
When your focus couldn't get past the first few sentences on a page, you shut the book with a sigh and furiously wiped at your eyes. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Carefully, you reached out and interlaced your hand with one of Azriel's, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin. 
"Please, please wake up, Azriel." you whispered into the room. "I don't know what we'd do - what I'd do - without you." you told him, praying to the Mother and anyone else listening to heal your best friend. 
As day bled into night, Rhys and Cass came into the room, trying to relieve you even just for an hour. They tempted you with food, rest, or even just a moment alone, but you refused. How could you leave Azriel alone in his moment of need? Eventually they got the hint, and slowly, the rest of your family began to take up residence in the room alongside you.
oOoOo
"How can there be nothing on this subject?" you shouted, tossing the book to the floor with a loud thump. 
The rest of the Night Court looked up at your outburst, their own eyes red and bleary from the hours and hours of research. It had been three days since Madja first examined Azriel, and even the experienced healer was coming up empty. With every hour that passed, you felt the hope in your soul drain even further.  
"There has to be an answer somewhere." Cass placated, stretching out his wings from where he sat. "Someone has to have used this poison before." 
"That doesn't mean they had to write the antidote down, boy." Amren spoke cooly from her spot, ignoring your pointed glare. 
"What is it, Feyre?" Rhys asked, taking note of her trance like state. She shook her head slightly at her mate before turning her attention to the rest of the group. 
"Well...I was just thinking. Madja said whatever the cure ends up being will have to be powerful, but maybe we've been thinking about this too literally. Maybe it's not an answer that can be found in a book. What has been a powerful motivator for all of us over the years? Was even the answer to end Amarantha's reign?" she asked, the group shuddered at the mention of the name of that devil. "Love." 
You stared at your High Lady, head titled to the side. "Okay, but how is that going to help us now? It's not like any of us don't love Azriel." 
"And it's not exactly a position we can give him." Mor chimed in. 
Feyre reached out a tattooed hand and grasped Rhys' hand. "Or maybe it is." she countered. "I don't know about here in the Night Court, but haven't you ever heard fairytales? True love conquering all with a kiss, and all that?"  
"Do you think it would really work?" you ask, your tone warm and face full of light for the first time in days. 
All eyes fell to Rhys and Ameren for guidance. The two shared a look, silently communicating their opinions on the matter, but it was Rhys who spoke first. "I've never heard of an instance of true love's kiss being the answer, but since when have we been known to do anything traditionally?" he said with a small grin, inspiring a soft chuckle in the room. 
"Well," Cass dragged out. "I would try, but I don't think Az would appreciate me waking him up with a kiss." 
You rolled your eyes at the general, before considering the impact of his words. "Doesn't that leave us with a problem? Azriel hasn't found his mate, so we're still stuck and unable to break though." A small pang shot through you at the idea of Azriel's mated to an unknown female, but you quickly tamped that down. This was a matter of life or death. 
All eyes of the Inner Circle turned to face you. Looks of disbelief, amusement, and even understanding from Rhys, came your way. You caved in on yourself, suddenly feeling your cheeks heat under the scrutiny. This was not the time for their games. 
"What?" 
Mor spoke your name, gently, as her hand reached out to grasp yours. "Do we really need to spell it out?" she asked in your silence. 
"Spell what out?"
Amren, having had enough of the tiptoeing, finally spat it out. "That you're in love with the Shadowsinger, and have been for decades. If anyone in this room has the power to break this curse, it's you." 
A laugh bubbled up and out of your throat at her words, born out of sheer nerves that shot through your body. "N-no, no. I am not in love with Azriel. I mean, yes, I care for him - of course I do! I love him the way I love all of you. I'd do anything to help, but I really don't think this is going to work." you stuttered and stumbled over your words, bashful from the accusation. 
"We've all seen the way you look at each other, y/n." Feyre spoke gently, her eyes soft and she stared at you. "I think you love Azriel a bit differently than the rest of us." 
Her words brought tears to your eyes. Yes, you were in love with your best friend - how cliche. It had been that way for decades, but you never had the courage to speak up and say anything to him. And now, all these feelings were being dredged up in such a tense situation. What if it wasn't enough? What if you weren't enough to save him? 
"Okay, fine, you've caught me." you conceded, throwing your hands up in the air as your voice grew thick and heavy once more. "Is that what you want me to say? That I've been in love with Azriel for years, and it's killed me to just stay by his side as just a friend?" a defensive anger rose in your body as you looked at each member of your family. "But you're forgetting an important piece to this puzzle. Just because I'm in love with Azriel, doesn't mean I'm his true love." 
With that, you ran out of the room, collapsing against the wall in the hallway. You tried to take deep, steady breaths to calm your breathing, but it did little to help the situation. A few minutes later, you heard soft footsteps come up to your side, and Mor pulled you into a giant hug. The two of you stayed in silence for a few moments, grateful for the anchor she acted as in the moment. 
"I know that was a lot to throw on you, and for you to have to admit to us." she spoke, softly and cautiously. "And nobody judges you for how you feel or how you're reacting." 
"I'm so scared." you confessed. "W-what if I try and it doesn't work?" 
Mor looks at you with a gentle smile. "What if you try and it does work?" she countered. "I think you underestimate the extent of Azriel's feelings for you. And, if, Mother forbid, it doesn't work, then we'll figure something else out." 
Her words gave you a sense of comfort and the courage to wipe your tears and walk back towards Az's room. Before you stepped back in, you gave Mor's hand a grateful squeeze then rolled your shoulders back. 
All talking ceased as you walked back in, and you knew your family had to have been discussing what to do if you didn't agree with their plan. But this was Azriel's life on the line, and you would do anything to protect it. Even if that meant having your feelings revealed, or rejected. 
"Okay, let's try this." you told the Inner Circle, calmly and with conviction you tried to convince yourself you had. "But, all of you are waiting outside." 
There were no laughs or jokes at your expense, which surprised you, especially coming from Cassian. Instead, they all nodded their heads and solemnly and filed outside to wait. On his way out, Cassian squeezed your shoulder and nodded. 
"Bring him back to us." he whispered, board line pleading with you to save his brother's life. 
When it was just you and Azriel alone in the room, you took a deep breath and crossed the space until you knelt before his bed. You took the moment to study his features. His hazel eyes, normally full of life and mischief, now were shut off from you. His skin looked more swallow and the rise and fall of his chest seemed to slow with each breath that passed. Even the presence of his shadows seemed dimmer as Azriel's life slowly drained before your eyes. 
With a shaky hand, you reached out to brush away soft tendrils of hair that had fallen into Azriel's face. "Can you hear me, Az?"
The air was heavy as you waited a response that never came. 
"We all miss you so much. I miss you - my best friend. I-I know it's not fair of me to ask, but just keep holding on, keep fighting. Please." you whispered, leaning down to rest your forehead against his body, gathering your courage. "Look, Feyre has this crazy theory about what could save you. It's uh, true love's kiss." 
Again, no response. 
"This was not the way I expected to tell you, not that I thought I'd tell you if I'm being honest. But even though I don't want to jeopardize our friendship, I'd rather have you alive and never speak to me again than gone forever. So, here it goes." you took a deep breath. "I love you Azriel, I think I always have. You are so good and kind, and the kind of male I've dreamed about for years. I-it's okay if you don't feel the same," you forced yourself to say. "but I thought you should know given our situation."
Not sure what else to say, you took one more look at the male in front of you, placed a gentle kiss against his cheek, and then dipped your head down to meet his lips. They were chapped against your own after a few days without enough water. Az's normal smell of cedar and mist was faint, but still there, and comforted you as it surrounded your senses. 
You poured as much love and hope into the kiss as possible before slowly pulling away, falling to sit on your legs. The next few seconds that passed seemed to stretch for hours, waiting for a sign, a movement, anything. Just as you were about to sag and give up hope, a loud gasp sounded next to you and Azriel's frame jolted up. 
"Azriel!" you shouted, watching as the color returned to his face and his eyes darted around the room. 
Those hazel eyes finally landed on your frame, and Azriel quirked a small, albeit, sleepy smile at you. "y/n." he whispered, holding out a hand. 
Wasting no time, you grasped onto the anchor for dear life, and the tears immediately began to pour down your face. "I can't believe you're awake. Oh, I was so scared for you Azriel. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? We have to get Madja and the other's here. I'll go-" you rambled, before being cutting off my Azriel. 
"Hey, hey, calm down." he soothed, pulling you up onto the bed, flush against him. "I feel fine, considering I was just on the brink of death." he chuckled. 
"Don't make jokes like that." you swatted at his chest. "We almost lost you." 
"Yeah, but you saved me." he said, looking down at you in awe. 
Suddenly bashful again, you began to stutter. "Oh, no, I didn't do much. It was all Feyre's idea, and we all were here helping to research." 
"But Rhys and Cass weren't the one's to bring me back with a kiss." he said, and you felt as though your entire body was on fire at Azriel's words. 
"Y-you heard all that?" 
"I did." he nodded, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And, I can't believe it took us until now to say anything, but I love you, y/n." he admitted, turning your face so you stared into his eyes. 
As the words left Azriel's lips, both of your gasped. This time, however, it wasn't because of a sleeping curse, but because of the taught, golden thread you felt connecting your soul to Azriel's. Your mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but the loudest one was "mate, mate, mate." 
You stared at the male before you in awe, and Azriel grinned. "My mate. My knight in shining armor." he teased, then leaned down to capture your lips once more. 
This time, the kiss sent butterflies to your stomach and you revealed in the feeling of Azriel's strong arms around your body. His kiss was long and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world to explore. And as you kissed him back, you found yourself giddy at the thought of the rest of your immortal life with Azriel.
It was only when the doors had been thrown open and the rest of your family came stumbling in did you and Azriel pull apart. The two of you looked at each other, then busted out laughing at the shocked faces of your family. 
"It worked!" 
"You're awake." 
"The two of you are mates?!" 
Their voices all overlapped, and you felt Az sigh against you, hugging you close. Yes, your family was a lot, but they meant well. And now, you could live happily ever after. 
oOoOo
a/n: ahh, I'm pretty impressed by how quickly this went from an idea to a story! kinda feel like I rushed the end, but oh well! hope you enjoyed!
479 notes · View notes
ajortga · 20 days
Text
just too late
pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader
summary: where tara can't help but regret the outcome of her consequences, she was just too late. how can a heart love if it is no longer beating?
warnings: massive angst, death, stabbing, blood
word count: 3.5k+
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a/n: based of a request i got on wp! honestly, i wrote this months ago and got to the end, but their request was so similar that i redid it. posting a small second part soon<3 also omg, thank you for 500 followers!
-
You had just visited Tara, a bouquet of roses in one hand as you knocked on the door. You had seen them when walking to her apartment and you knew that they were just perfect for her. You had to get them. As you heard the lock of the door click, Tara opened the door. She peeked out and saw you, smiling shyly. You thought she'd smile back, but instead her smile dropped. 
That had never happened before. 
"Y/N, we need to talk.
You knew something was wrong, something bad was going to happen. Your breath got stuck in your throat as she stepped aside to let you in. You knew the next thing that would happen would not be good.
 fast forward 20 minutes
You stood there in Tara's apartment, Sam eyeing you with a penetrating death glare. You felt like sinking into the floor right there and then. You hated this kind of silence. 
Sam broke the quietness, her gaze stern, "Y/N, this isn't going to work out between you and Tara." She states, crossing her legs as she sighs, "All of it just adds up."
You shake your head, but before you can retaliate, Sam speaks again.
"You know it too. You started dating my sister two weeks prior before the first ghostface attack. The police found your necklace right next to the victim, covered in blood. I can't trust you and have you near my sister. All of us," she states, twirling her finger in a circle, "Are in danger and I can't let my baby sister get hurt again. None of us trust you, not Mindy, not Chad, and definitely not me. You are going to stay away from her, no more coming over or seeing each other at school. Do I make myself clear?"
"You believe a piece of evidence that barely proves anything? They didn't even find my DNA anywhere!"
"Gloves."
You felt rage crawling its way out, you couldn't believe your girlfriend's sister would think you're the killer. Sam knows all too well how much Tara loves you. "You know I wouldn't hurt you! Least of all Tara! I love her with my whole heart and I would never even think of that! I-I don't know how my necklace got there, someone framed me!" You turned to Tara, blinking away tears that stung your eyes, "Tar.. You believe me right? Please tell her. I didn't do anything! Please don't leave me."
"Please.." you begged. You saw the way her gaze slightly cracked, you knew she didn't believe you. You could feel it, you wouldn't care for fucks sake if Mindy, Chad, or Sam didn't believe you. But Tara was different. It felt like a swing to the heart, it hurt so much. It felt heavy.
Tara didn't do anything but give you a hurt look, staring down at her fingers. You expect her to throw her arms around you, tell you that they all got it wrong and you can both live happily ever after in the end. Yet she doesn't.
"I'm sorry Y/N," she forces her shattered voice in her normal tone, swallowing a cry clawing to come out, "I don't trust you anymore, I don't love you. I-I never did. I just.. Don't think you should visit anymore. We're done."
You felt like your whole heart shattered at that moment as you heard her last two words. You looked at her as you sobbed in your hands. Hurt, mournful, betrayed.
All that Tara said was, "You need to get out please," her eyes pink and glossy.
"You don't understand Tara, please I'm begging you-"
"Y/N, I'm not going to say it twi- It's n-not me Tara!" you say, this point a small cry escaping you. The way Tara looks at you is wild.
Your girlfriend's voice raised, with a fury, she wasn't going to say it again, "Get the hell out! Do you need me to say i-it twice? I don't fucking love you! I don't want to see your face again!"
You flinched, you never felt more heartbroken in your life. Your heart hurt, it felt like someone had smashed it with a hammer. Tears that threatened to fall down were now dropping on the floor. All the moments you've spent together were now thrown away, stomped on. You felt your body shaking as you toss the flowers, leaving them to fall on the floor with a thud. 
You simply nod, slowly.
"Fine." You say, more flat than ever, turning to leave as you feel the petals get stepped on by your shoe. 
All you wanted was to brighten your girlfriend's day, entering with flowers in your hand and just wanting to cuddle her all day long. Yet, here you are, your girlfriend now turning into you ex, flowers dead, no cuddles, no more trust.
Tara felt horrible, the guilt eating her alive. All of her words were lies, she just knew that if you were to separate from her, she would keep you safe. You wouldn't be the target for ghostface if he thought you were just a normal person in Woodsboro. You would be safe. She tried to assure herself that as you slammed the door. 
Her eyes met the squished flower that escaped from the bouquet on the floor and she wondered if she'd ever get flowers from you again after everything.
-
You stared at the picture frame placed on the counter of you and Tara together hugging with matching clothes, you choked on your sobs. Tara nor your friend group had chatted with you since then. Sam had blocked you on social media. At least your other friends had came along and checked up on you to make sure you were okay. Tara had sent a few messages, saying she was sorry that things had ended up like this, but to realize you blocked her.
You couldn't function properly, your eyes were dry with the amount of tears you released in the past week.
It's not your fault, you tried to assure yourself. You weren't ghostface. You can't believe the person you trusted most didn't even put her trust in you.
Maybe it all is your fault. Maybe if you were different, in personality, how much the core 4 really liked you, you wouldn't be here, crying like those teens in the movies that just feast on a gallon of ice cream. It makes you cry a little harder while you hug your teddy bear.
Especially the taunting memory of Tara screaming at you, tears blurring your vision as you stumbled back out of her apartment. Sam's eyes softening just a little bit, not meaning for this to happen. Yet you didn't even try looking into her eyes, too caught up with your own feelings to feel her sorrow.
The past few days, you've locked yourself up, abandoned school. Ignored the core 4, blocked Tara and the other three.
Your mind wandered, you were clouded in your own thoughts as you sobbed angry and hurtful tears. You cried to the point where tears stopped falling, and you were left with feeling nothing and your body feeling sore. Your breathing was still heavy, you let out heavy shaky breaths, but they started to cool down.
You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing, until you heard your phone buzz from the ground. You picked it up, there was a message.
A part of you expected your friends to check up on you, since that's what they've been doing every since you've stopped going to school. Instead, you were met with a picture from unknown of the abandoned movie theater not too far from here. There, you saw the camera facing a knife pointing towards Tara and Sam, threatening, daring. 
Your eyes widened, as you immediately take your keys and bust out the door, grabbing a small knife, maybe you'll need it, unblocking Tara and calling her and all of those you knew must be in there. They're in danger.
Each call leads to voicemail, from both Tara and Sam, you search up their location. The only one shared for you is Tara's. You almost smash it to the front of your phone holder, locating where they are at.
As much as you hurt, you knew that you would never heal knowing that someone you loved was at risk. The car engine roars to life as you head for the theater.
With each texts and call ignored, you get paranoid, worried sick. Stepping on the accelerator of the car, your car turns a corner and is out of sight.
"She fell for it, she's coming your way," a taunting voice rasps into their phone, Ghostface.
"Our plan is just setting into action."
-
Carefully, you slip into the door of the run down theater. You hear clatters, and immediately you freeze, hiding a corner and peeking out. Tara's scream echoes through the theater, your eyes widen and you look around, for something sharp. 
This is a stupid shrine committed to ghostface, you realize. It makes it a little better, at least you're guaranteed a knife to defend and fight with?
You sweep a corner, the room your in is silent, and you creek down the floor board, being greeted with glass display cases.
You're not good with blood, yet there's evidence from ghostface's mark years ago. TV's, a knife laced in the red crimson color. A gag almost leaves your lips, yet you open the display case and your hands grasp around  a cool metal. It's a knife alright, not too sharp if you were to drop it you wouldn't cut your whole toe off. Yet it's do-able. 
"Tara?" your voice echoes, walking around and exploring, you're frantic. You keep hearing her voice mail ring through your ears and your worry increases.
You thought the room you were in was obsessive with ghostface, yet when you go into the middle of this shrine, it's filled with obsessive things. Masks, robes, knives, even the TV that Stu Macher was killed by. A shiver escapes you.
You look up, and you see the chaos going, glass shattered on the floor, action buzzing around. You see Tara.
"Tara!" You shout, trying to keep your voice low, your eyes meeting the ladder that goes up, you climb on it, grunting in effort. You climb, climb, climb, climb, until you reach the top.
Tara is with Sam, they're talking about their plan, they're a couple hundred feet away from you. The sister's clothes are smothered in blood, Sam's arm has a wound, and you feel sick seeing the blood seeping from your girlfriend's clothes. 
Your about to say her name, until you see a shadow emerge. It's not any that you know, this one is dark, tall, more man-like. 
It's not until you see the tilt of their head the sliver of light reflecting off their mask. Ghost face. 
You don't know what gotten into you from the adrenaline from the moment, but your legs begin to run, move, nothing sounds more fitting than slow motion. His knife lifts from his chest, the sharp metal edge glistening.
You try to scream, the words bubble up in your throat, comes out in a dry cough.
Your legs feel like jelly, run faster, damnit. 
They can't see him, he's behind them, tucked just 2 feet away in a corner, yet you see him. You can save Tara and her older sister, you can save the both of them, you have time. 
You can save the both of them, your love outplays your brain. It's telling you to stop, you're going to get killed. But your heart overwhelms it, beating quicker, with each beat all you can hear is 
Tara
Tara
Tara
Save
Her!
Tara
You
Have
Time.
The knife ghostface is holding gets brought down.
"Tara!" You finally scream, it comes out as a desperate cry as you lunge towards her. Her eyes turn from the setting below her to you, confusion, then shock as your hands shove her shoulders. The strength you built up finally goes to use, pushing her out of harms way, she shoves into Sam, as they both stumble back. 
You hear them both say your name, confusion at first, before the second time they holler it out. It's a scream, yet it dies down in your ears, feeling the cool metal of the blade slam into your shoulder. The ring from Tara's screams fade, replaced with the blood pulsing in your ears. The pain, the sharp knife sinking into the flesh of your shoulder. All you can do is let out a soft cry, too tired to scream. 
Your eyes water, looking up at ghostface, the ugly mask boring into your eyes. He tilts his head, shocked for a moment. Until he tilts his head back again, like the target he hit is even better than what he wanted. They didn't expect you so soon.
The knife tears out from your flesh, a sob leaves your throat, kicking and flaring your arms. 
"Y/N!" Tara screams your name, this one you can hear. She's crying, sobbing, wailing. Begging for her older sister to let her go and save you. 
Sam shushes her, all they can do is watch. All Tara can do is watch you suffer.
His knife slams into you again, your abdomen. You hear a disgusting squelch as it goes in. The pain is unbearable, this stab hurts even more than anything you can think about. You thought the 4 foot thorn going through your foot was bad. You cry, grabbing the knife that's tucked into your pocket and slam it against the black coat, right where the neck meets the shoulder.
A raspy whisper escapes your lips, "F-fuck you." You snarl.
You barely hear him grunt. Yet he doesn't back down, in fact, you hear the disgusting squelch again.
And again.
And again.
The pain lessens. You know why. You're dying.
You can't hear it anymore, but there are now several stabs on your abdomen. You collapse, blood seeping through your clothes, your hands, your face. It's warm, dark red, spreading. It oozes out of your wounds, and the squelching sounds are gone. Your eyes flutter, seeing the flurry of the white masked figure leaving you to rot. Your body collapses to the floor with a loud crash.
You saved Tara, you would die before he could ever kill her. Before she could ever die. If Tara died, you'd kill yourself, or you'd die quicker from a broken heart. 
Sam's yelling, kicking ghostface as he lets go of you, you can barely see her bringing him down to the bottom floor, both of them collapsing off the second story.
Your eyes begin to close, your breath comes in short heaves and wheezes.
And then, you see her, barely, through your weak vision.
It's blurry at first, but you know it's Tara, who else would look so good with blood all over her face?
She presses her body down to you, her warmth barely seeping through, your body is colder. Those warm, soft eyes are wide, looking so scared, hands pressing down deeper to your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Fuck, no. Nononono.. Why the hell would you do that?" She yells at you, shaking your body, you whimper.
You barely respond, croak her name out, cough out blood.
She's crying, you realize, she's choking on sobs as she cradles you, lifting your body up to her chest. She smells like your favorite scent, sweet.. light.. vanilla.. So lovely.
You just want to be in her arms forever. Let her sweetness soothe the pain.
"Y/N," she sobs, seeing the way you're struggling to stay conscious, you're only holding on because she's there. She can tell the way your eyes are slowly glassing over, your vision is twitching, blurring, un-focusing. 
Don't cry, you want to tell her, even though you know you're here, dying in your girlfriend's arms. But you're too weak to speak, instead, let a slurred murmur leave you. Her hand is clinging to yours, like if she were to let go you would immediately fall away.
"It's okay baby," Tara sniffs, clinging to you. Like if she lets go you'll shatter, "I'm here, help will come soon. Stay with me. Eyes on me baby."
You look at her, your girlfriend, being in her arms. She has a small wound, around her arm to her shoulder, yet it's barely bleeding. Being here, in her arms. It's your favorite thing ever, you've done it so many times to feel her warmth. You never thought you would not be in Tara's arms at night with you buried against her.
Yet you know it's your last time you'll be in them. You can barely feel the warmth she's trying to transfer to you, you're freezing. She senses it too, the way she's hugging you tighter. Pleading you to stay here, with her. The brunette squeezes your hand, distracts you from the pain that's already leaving. Along with your pulse. 
"I'm so fucking sorry," she sobs, "I love you so much, you don't fucking understand," she wails. Pulls you closer to her, "I should have never left you, you mean the world to me, I never meant what I said. I t-thought I could protect you if ghostface knew that you were no longer in our circle."
You wheeze, your eyes never looking away from hers. She notices, how you're studying her, like the moment you don't, you'll forget how she looks like in heaven. 
Freckles, doe-shaped crying eyes. You lift her hand to your chest, let her feel your heart, to let her know that your giving her your heart, your love. You don't want her to forget about you. 
You don't want to die.
Yet if you don't want her to die, you'll die before she could ever. 
Tara's still sobbing, ripping her shirt and tying it against your stomach, the blood seeps through, she tightens it. Looks worriedly down at you. 
Ugly shapes of swiggles and dots cloud, you see random shapes flying. Try to focus on Tara.
Sirens ring in the distance, Tara looks back, yet immediately looks back at you. A tear falls from her stained mascara cheeks, down your shirt. Weakly, you bring it up and wipe her cheeks. Assure her it'll be okay. Yet she knows it's not. They're just too fucking late.
You saved her. That's all that matters now.
"It's all my fault, I'm so sorry my love. I never meant to hurt you. I never thought it would end so soon. I don't want you to die."
You swallow, blood slightly gurgles through your throat, use your dying strength to speak, "I'm h-here." You croak, "T-tara."
"I love you so much," you slur, hiccupping on a cry. Trace the matching necklace she gifted the two of you years past on her neck. You're wearing it too.  Hers was silver, yours was gold. A silver and golden dove.
The blood loss is too much, you can barely speak. But she's here with you, in your last moments. You're able to have a goodbye you might not have had. She might not be ready, but you almost are.
Time wasn't in your favor. It really wasn't. 
This isn't goodbye this is a simply see you later.
She's okay, knowing that makes you feel a little more okay. A little more okay and soothe the worries.
Tara plays with your necklace. A proper goodbye. Her eyes glisten with tears, and she leans down, presses her lips to yours. You kiss her, knowing it'll be the one you'll live to feel. Then you slump back down on the concrete. You don't care about anyone but her anymore. Sirens holler, people bust into the theater, and you look up at her, taking off her necklace and putting it into the palm of her hand.
"I w-want you to promise me one thing."
She sniffles, tears wont stop anytime soon, keeps tying cloth around your deep wounds. It's no use. She nods, "Y-yeah?"
"Promise me y-you won't forget me. E-even when you find someone you love, maybe even more than me. You won't t-throw.." You pause, coughing, "T-throw our memories away.  Promise me that. That when your h-hands hold theirs, you realize that mine was once warmer. When you're by yourself on F-Friday nights, you'll remember that you used to come to mine and cuddle m-me." You hiccup, losing your train of thought, blinking, your words are barely audible, yet Tara can still make them out.
"...When you look at the stars on the grassy meadow, you'll remember that that's the spot we always w-went to to get our thoughts out of things," you barely giggle, it hurts your stomach. "A-and, when you look at all my pictures, or maybe one day I won't pass your mind for once, you'll be ready to let me go. The thought of me still being here. Y-you'll be able to love, even though I might still scar your heart."
She sniffles, seeing the way you begin to struggle on your words, they grow quieter.
"But I won't let that happen, I don't want your h-heart t-to scar," You place her hand on your chest again, "You can have mine."
Tara swallows her tears, still, they drop.
"I love you, Y/N," she sniffles, it's the same word from every other time you both said you loved each other. Yet this time, it's so fucking different. It's the last time you'll ever hear her say it to you while you're still hear. "I'll never love anyone more than I loved you."
"I love you too, Tara," you whisper. It's the last time she'll ever hear it from you. A small, weak smile cracks on your face as she leans down one more time, kisses you softly, taking the last breath from your lips.
And it's time to go. Your chest stills.
And for the last time, she hears your heart beat one more time.
A heart that once beat for her was gone.
405 notes · View notes
little-diable · 2 months
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May thy knife – Feyd-Rautha (smut)
This is y'alls fault, all your comments made me write this. So, here we go, psychotic reader is back, but with a somewhat loving relationship. It felt only right to twist this famous scene – I'm sure this has been done before but I haven't read a fic that takes on this twist just yet, so I'm in no means copying any fic out there. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: What if the reader, who is married to Feyd-Rautha, didn't know that Paul, her brother, was still alive? What if it was her fighting against him instead of Feyd – all for revenge, to make her brother feel the same pain he had forced her to feel with his faked death?
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), willingly rough loss of virginity, choking, dom!Feyd, degrading, spitting, fighting, passing out, blood licking, knife licking, reader is a psycho fitting Feyd, yet there's some form of love between the two, and no, I ain't killing us so we survive the fight
Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!Atreides!reader (4.2k words)
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The hatred she emanated was felt by all people surrounding her, people who didn’t dare meet her icy gaze – not even the emperor dared to turn towards (y/n). It was a wise decision, for the sake of all their lives, knowing that she could rob their soul and their last breath even without any weapons on her. 
It had only been a few minutes since they had been taken prisoner, and while (y/n) could have easily fought her way out of the tight grasp, she hadn’t been able to move. Frozen to her spot as she had never been before, unable to move as her eyes followed the frame of the Muad’Dib. Paul Atreides. Her brother. The man she had believed to be dead for endless weeks. The prophet who hadn’t spotted her in the small crowd. 
Not even Feyd-Rautha’s closeness had managed to rile her up at that moment, the man she had been forced to marry, the man she hadn’t allowed to touch her, not even on their wedding night. It hadn’t taken him long to accept that she’d cut off his hands should he touch her, speaking lies to the Baron to answer private questions that had left (y/n)’s insides churning. Feyd had protected her even when she went against a simple contract, lured closer by the darkness she carried deep within herself. 
She had made too many sacrifices for her brother and their mother’s lies, tossed away for a strategic marriage she hadn’t been prepared for. All to mourn her brother who was still alive and breathing, guiding those who saw the prophet in him.
“You’re quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, wife.” Feyd’s breath teased her neck, he stood with his armoured front pressed against her back, hands resting on her waist. It was a dangerous game, a game she didn’t buy into, too focused on her racing mind. Feyd gave (y/n) another moment to push him away, just like she had always done – but she didn’t, she kept herself pressed against him as if he was an anchor saving her from drowning. “What are you planning?”
“How I will kill the Muad’Dib.” Not one ounce of love thumped through her veins, an emotion she had once held onto, at least for her older brother; a love that had frozen in her system the second she had heard his voice ring in her ears minutes ago. Feyd’s raspy chuckles left her skin tingling, adding fuel to the fire simmering deep inside of her. 
For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to focus on her husband’s touch, how he held onto her, tight enough to send a clear message to wandering eyes. He may have not claimed her behind closed doors, addicted to their game of back-and-forth, but to all those eyes, she was his as he was hers, a ruthless husband to a cunning wife. 
“You know, I am always excited for a fight.” She wanted to reply, wanted to tease him for fighting against drugged prisoners who never stood a chance against him, but the second his cold lips met her throat, her words were lost on her sharp tongue. Her heart roared in her chest, not used to being kissed by Feyd, not after their first and only kiss in front of their wedding guests. 
“You won’t fight. This is between my brother and me.” (Y/n) turned in Feyd’s grasp, letting her eyes wander over her husband’s features. He was handsome, she had always been drawn to him, and yet something had always held her back – the fear of being tied down by a man who perfectly matched her ruthless ways, a man who would rather kill himself than back down from a fight, just like (y/n). They were too similar, a scary realisation she had been forced to face many moons ago. 
“I will let you fight, wife, but for that, I get to claim you tonight.” The mischief twinkling in his bright pupils pushed anger through her, anger clashing against lust. Her mind didn’t get to interfere as (y/n) shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. She pulled away before Feyd could deepen the kiss, heart roaring in her chest as if it was communicating with his. 
“You’ll have to lick my brother’s blood off me before you get to touch me.” Her words were meant as a warning, a warning Feyd clearly found enjoyment in. And with his raspy laugh echoing through the room, she found herself thrown back into her darkening mindset, preparing for a fight against her brother. 
……
“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me?” Paul’s voice filled the room. She didn’t see much of his frame, standing behind Feyd to shield herself from her brother’s and her mother’s eyes. She hated the way her fingers trembled, urged on by her anger, by her sadness, emotions flushing through her like poison set to kill her. “They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis.”
She wanted to shoot forward, wanted to throw herself against her brother’s frame to force him to his knees. But the hand Feyd pressed against her stomach to hold her back was enough to stay glued to her spot. The time wasn’t right just yet. 
“Gurney, send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all spice fields.” Paul’s words left most of the people surrounding (y/n) tensing, words that were about to force a laugh out of her. She could feel and see her mother’s influence on Paul, forming him into the son she had always dreamt him to be. 
“You’re out of your mind.” The Emperor’s slightly trembling voice drew a smirk to both (y/n) and Feyd’s lips, they got a taste of the chaos soon unfolding in front of them, drawing a sick sense of satisfaction and anticipation through the couple. 
“He’s bluffing.” She couldn’t stop a soft laugh from leaving her at her husband’s words, urged on by the need to stand even closer. Her body was guiding her without giving her mind a chance to protest as her hand found Feyd’s. She was still covered by his tall frame, and yet she felt him freezing for just a second as she interlaced their hands. 
“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides.” Within seconds, the voice filled their ears, forcing the Reverend Mother to lose her balance. No longer could (y/n) focus on the exchange between Paul and the Emperor, no longer could she focus on Feyd whose hand she had dropped once again. (Y/n) knew that the time was finally right, it was now or never, a fight that would end with either her’s or her brother’s life on the line.
“Stand or choose your champion.” Those were the words that ripped (y/n) out of her trance, pushing past her husband. She didn’t see how Feyd’s fingers twitched, having to stop himself from reaching for her, to stop (y/n) from fighting a battle he had been destined for. 
“I’m here, Paul.” (Y/n) spoke the words with venom dripping from her voice, watching her brother’s bright pupils widen. From the corner of her eye, she could watch her mother shoot to her feet, and yet (y/n) didn’t dare let her gaze wander, enjoying the realisation that began to widen on her brother’s panicked features. “I need a blade.” 
“Accept mine.” She didn’t rip her eyes from her brother’s to look at the Emperor, seizing the chance to read Paul well enough to tell her that he fought an inner battle. Paul whispered her name as he slightly shook his head, begging his sister to step away. Her tongue kissed her teeth as a blood-curdling smile widened on her lips, she didn’t need to speak up to tell Paul that she’d try everything she could to kill him, a simple act of revenge for leaving her, for forgetting her, for playing her. 
With a slow nod thrown her way, seemingly accepting her will to fight, Paul turned from (y/n) to walk back towards his people. Only Feyd’s hand on her waist managed to rip her gaze from her brother’s frame, “Make me proud wife. Kill him.” 
Feyd squeezed her waist as he pressed a harsh kiss to her lips, a clear signal for all those who were watching their interaction. He’d kill them all should she die, avenge her death as if it was his own life they tried to take. Without speaking another word, (y/n) pushed Feyd away from her, she tightened her grip on the Emperor’s blade, and let her feet carry her towards her brother. 
“(Y/n),” Paul’s choked-up voice drew a humourless chuckle out of her. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to stray, to look at their pregnant mother and the unreadable expression she wore. (Y/n) had never been the favourite child, even though she was the girl Jessica had been asked to birth. She had always been too ruthless, too cold, too cunning for their family, the outcast who had been married to Feyd at the first given chance. 
“Say it.” (Y/n)’s words were venomous, spat at her brother whose pained expression made him appear even more pathetic in her eyes. She wanted Paul to speak the words, words the siblings had spoken as mere children whenever they challenged one another into a play fight. Paul kept quiet, unable to part his lips until she almost screamed her words, “Say it!”
“May thy knife chip and shatter.” Paul’s voice trembled as he spoke the words, momentarily closing his eyes as if he struggled to accept their fate, to accept that he was expected to kill his beloved sister, unable to back down from a fight like this. She repeated the words much slower than Paul had, with a dangerous smile tugging on her lips – no longer did (y/n) care about her own life, about the mere chance of dying in her brother’s arms. She was hungry for revenge, to make him feel the pain she had been forced to carry deep within herself these past weeks. 
And then everything began to blur, one attack after another, one strike after another, one stumble after another. She felt all their eyes on them as they fought, but (y/n) couldn’t give into the temptation to study the crowd, searching for Feyd’s eyes that were glistening with adoration for his wife. A woman fighting like a snake, slithering along Paul’s body to squeeze him to death. 
Only as Paul’s knife cut (y/n)’s skin for the first time did her world begin to slow down, momentarily stopping its spinning motion. Paul seemed to freeze just like she did, focusing on the blood pouring from the wound. Perhaps he expected her to back down, to leave the circle to search for her husband’s protection. But (y/n) did something she had studied her husband do one too many times: Her fingers found her wound, picking up the drops of blood to suck her fingers clean, high on the coppery taste. Feyd’s laughter rang in her ears as she attacked her brother once again, faster this time, even more ruthless than the rounds before.
With blood sticking to her lips, (y/n) and Paul kept circling one another – all until she seized her chance to ram her knife into his side. Paul’s gasp forced their mother to her feet once again, searching her daughter’s eyes to shake her head, a silent warning not to kill her brother, a silent gesture that they wouldn’t mourn her death, only Paul’s. But while her mother’s eyes carried a clear warning, Feyd’s carried encouragement, asking his wife to end this right there and then. 
A moment of distraction that gave her brother the chance to slice his blade through her skin, forcing it to nestle inside her stomach. Both siblings held onto one another, glassy eyes finding back together as neither loosened their grip. 
“Do it, kill me. Feel the pain you’ve forced me to feel, feel the grief that has almost killed me.” Tears dripped from (y/n)’s eyes as she choked on her blood, knowing that she’d pass out any moment now. And even though she felt the darkness creeping through her veins, telling her that it was time to bid this life goodbye, a smile began to widen on her lips. 
This was the moment she had imagined all these weeks, it was finally upon them. 
Slowly Paul sacked to the ground with (y/n) clinging to him, holding onto her as he lifted his teary gaze. She didn’t see the way her brother's panicked gaze looked around the room, didn’t see the way his eyes found Feyd’s rage-filled ones, luring her husband closer. All she could focus on were the tears dripping from Paul’s bright eyes, holding back his sobs as Feyd kneeled next to them. 
“Do whatever you must, save my sister.” 
……
She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open. It took her a moment to focus on her surroundings, the grey walls, the dim light, and the figure standing close to her bed. Pain shot through her as she tried to move, forced to plop back down onto the mattress with a curse clawing through her.
“You’re finally awake.” Feyd’s raspy voice drew a whimper from (y/n)’s chapped lips, eyes momentarily fluttering close to try and remind herself of what had happened. “You almost died, killed by your foolish brother who has never fought fair before. I should have killed him for hurting you.” 
“Come here.” (Y/n) ignored her husband’s words, not daring to think of her brother, of their fight, and of the blood she had lost. Wordlessly, Feyd came to a halt next to her, staring down at her to wait for (y/n)’s next command. With another gasp roaring through her, she shuffled around on the bed, making space for her husband to lay next to her. “If you tell others of this I will kill you.”
His chuckles filled the room as he carefully placed himself next to her. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, giving the married couple a chance to be close to one another for the first time, without any eyes on them, without hatred urging words to leave their cold lips. 
Feyd’s hand slightly trembled as he reached for her no longer bloody fingers, slowly interlacing them. Never had he done this before, reaching for her without any further message to communicate, holding onto her for the mere chance to be close to her. 
“What happened to Paul?” Pain clawed through her at the thought of her brother. Anger had forced her to act, anger she hadn’t been able to swallow until now, unsure how to accept that her family had lied to her. 
“Don’t worry about him for now.” Feyd didn’t tell her how he had left the planet with her, how he had brought her away from that place. Feyd didn’t tell her how he had sworn to Paul that he’d avenge (y/n)’s death should she die. Feyd didn’t tell her how Paul had told others to let them go, not knowing where Feyd was taking (y/n), not knowing if he’d ever see his sister again. 
And at that very moment, (y/n) didn’t find the strength to ask another question, the strength she would regain soon enough to find her path back to her cunning self, set on ending the ruleless game between her and her family. 
…… 
“Fight like a Harkonnen for fuck’s sake!” Anger pushed her words past her clenched teeth. Sweat was pooling on (y/n)’s forehead as she stared at her husband with spite swimming in her pupils. She knew Feyd was holding back, not trusting that (y/n) had regained her full strength just yet, the strength she’d need to force him to his knees in a training session like this. 
“Wife.” It was a warning he spoke, a warning not to rile him up even further, knowing that he’d lose his patience soon enough. (Y/n) darted at her husband, her body collided with his to throw them both to the ground. She straddled his waist with a grim expression tugging on her features, knowing that in any other scenario, she wouldn’t have been able to attack Feyd like that. “Fine, this is your own fault, darling.”
Feyd harshly pushed her off him, momentarily robbing his wife of her breath as her back collided with the cold ground. He rose to his feet with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists – the version of her husband (y/n) desperately had tried to trigger. They circled one another, holding onto their blades with twitching fingers, set on regaining the upper hand.
Now it was on Feyd to attack first, his blade met hers over and over again, until he cut her cheek, drawing a hiss out of (y/n). She was heavily panting as he chuckled, bringing the bloody tip of his blade up to his pale lips to lick it clean, moaning at the taste of her blood. 
Something began to shift at that moment, something that forced her to drop her blade, to throw herself into his grasp and to kiss him. Both fell back to the ground, allowing Feyd to cage her between the floor and his frame. His hand found her throat to keep her pinned down beneath him, all while their tongues fought for victory. 
(Y/n) tightened her legs' grasp around his waist to pull him even closer, moaning at the way he ground his hips against hers, making her feel his hardening cock straining against his tight trousers. Everything about this moment was new to her, unsure of where to go from there without any experience guiding her, not knowing how to touch her husband. And yet, everything seemed to come almost naturally to her, trusting her body and Feyd to push her through the soaring waves of heat filling her trembling body.
“I should have fucked you months ago. You had your chance, but now I won’t be gentle with you, I will fuck you as a woman like you deserves to be fucked.” His words shot heat straight to her core, words that forced her to hold still as Feyd kept manhandling her, cutting her shirt open with his blade. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked chest made (y/nn) back arch, desperate to feel his hands on her. “I should tie you up, keep you as my toy to claim whenever I am hungry for you. I bet you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”
“I hate you!” It was nothing but a lie, a lie both easily saw through, but at that very moment neither Feyd nor (y/n) cared about pleasantries, urged on by their desires. He cut open her trousers before another curse could leave her, exposing her arousal-covered folds to his darkening eyes. Tonight he’d litter her in bruises. Tonight he’d force her to follow his rules. Tonight he’d show her his most ruthless side. 
“Hate me all you want, wife, your body still craves the touch of your husband. You’re dripping for me.” He didn’t warn her before he plunged two fingers into her tightness, feeling her walls flutter around his digits. Feyd held eye contact with her as he spat on her cunt, rubbing his saliva against her pulsing bundle. (Y/n)’s moans rang in his ears, urging him on as if he was high on spice, blurring out their surroundings, blurring out the calmness they were now disturbing. “I can’t wait to rip you open with my cock, make you feel pain you won’t ever forget.” 
Her mind was silenced, fogged up by the lust thumping through her veins. Feyd fucked her with his fingers, he pushed her closer to the high she had only allowed herself to feel whenever she had been desperate for his touch but too proud to search his closeness. But her body wasn’t ready to give up the chase just yet. Her hand found her blade, moving without gaining Feyd’s attention, who was still fully focused on her cunt.
With quick movements, she brought the tip of her blade to his throat, stopping him in his movements. The chuckle leaving Feyd left her smirking, looking even more psychotic with the blood still dripping from the cut on her cheek. She barely put up a fight as Feyd ripped the blade from her hand, as he shifted them around to bring her to her knees and up against his front. 
The blade teased her throat as he held her to him, even as he freed his aching cock, ready to disappear deep inside of her, “You had your chance, I would have prepared you for my cock, would have given you time to adjust. But that kindness is no longer among us. Now you’ll take my cock like my own personal whore.” 
He forced his cock into her cunt, groaning at the tightness engulfing him. Tears ran down her cheeks, tears of lust, of pain, of desperation – finding an unfamiliar sense of enjoyment in Feyd’s rough touches. His name rolled off her tongue as he fucked into her from behind, dropping the knife to choke her with his cold hands once again. 
Feyd was treating her like his pet, treating her like he had been raised to treat women – momentarily forgetting about the love he fostered deep inside of him. And she loved every second of it, finally able to give up control for the first time. 
“It brings me great pleasure knowing that no other man will ever get to have you like this. Your body is mine, you’re my whore, you only listen to my commands. And you will kill whoever dares to touch you should I not be fast enough to do it myself.” His words left her choking, forced to claw her fingernails into his pale skin as her mind began to race. Even though the words didn’t sound like it, it was the most sincere love confession Feyd had ever spoken, words that cut deeper than any blade ever would. 
“Feyd.” She whimpered his name as his free hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push her towards the edge. The first of many orgasms was awaiting her, set on ripping her from this place into another dimension, led by her husband. (Y/n) felt his black teeth run along her neck, biting the spot where her neck met her shoulders, close to drawing some more blood from her weeping body. 
She came without another word clawing through her, calling out his name as her orgasm momentarily robbed her of her vision. Feyd kept a strong hold on her throat, his hips kept meeting her behind, forcing his cock further into her clenched tightness. He gave it a few more thrusts before he pulled out of her and rose to his feet. 
With his hand finding her hair, he forced her towards him, making her scalp burn from the strength of his touch. His cock was shoved past her parted lips, letting (y/n) taste herself on his cock as he fucked her mouth. The corners of her mouth began to burn within a few moments, once again making tears fall from her glassy eyes. 
She had never seen her husband like this, trembling for her, with his head thrown back, and his eyes closed, fully focused on the pleasure thumping through her. No longer did she feel the need to fight, no longer did her fingertips ache for the feeling of her blade, no, for the first time since knowing Feyd, she wanted to give her everything to satisfy the man. 
“You’ll swallow every drop of my seed, and then you’ll lick me clean.” It was a simple command, a command that left her moaning around his cock. Feyd came within a few more seconds, releasing himself down her throat and on her eager tongue. The two held eye contact as she swallowed, as she ran her tongue up and down his twitching length, following his every command. 
“Where are you going, wife?” She froze in her movements, her heavily panting self had turned from him, set on plopping down on the ground to catch her breath. (Y/n)’s wide eyes were drawn back to his like spice forced up into the air, following the wind’s call. “That was only the beginning. I won’t be done with you for a while.”
622 notes · View notes
azaleaniath · 1 year
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~ AO'NUNG X FEM! SULLY! READER ~
Terrible liar
summary: Ao'nung loves to mess with your siblings, as they always get mad. Your reaction to his behavior though not only confuses but also frustrates him. Why are you always nice to him?
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includes: swearing, cuddles, bullying, injuries, soft and harsh psychical touch, denial, anger, falling in love
SFW
5.4k words
------------------------
You lived in Awa'atlu with the people of the Metkayina clan for a while now.
Some of them were curious about you and your siblings. Others ran off as soon as you were near. Some of them even seemed to be disgusted by your presence.
Ronal did not want to have you here. She was certain that you would bring war and death above her folk.
Tonowari on the other hand had a kind heart and allowed you to stay here. If he would've been in Jake's position, he would've pleaded for Uturu as well, at least for his children.
The chief's daughter Tsireya proved to be a bubbly and lovely girl who had helped you voluntarily from the moment she saw you. She always helped wherever she could.
And then there was his son Ao'nung. He used every chance he got to bully you and your siblings. He found it absolutely amusing to see you fail, it entertained him to get especially Lo'ak all angry.
Seeing your brothers and sisters all pissed and annoyed was fuel to his fire. To him, is was only a game. A game he always won. Or so it seemed at first.
"Ooh, what have he here? A forest freak~" His friends laughed at his dramatic pronunciation. You sat on the dock all alone, carving an ilu out of a peace of wood you had found underwater.
You looked up to Ao'nung and his two friends with a genuine smile. "Hey guys, what are you doing?"
Your friendly voice already disgusted him, but he loved to mess with your family.
"Better question, what are you doing there?"
Reaching your carving out to him with a proud face, you watched his grin turn into a disgusted yet still amused expression.
"Can you see what it is? I'm as good as done! If you want to, you can keep it." Your smile did not seem to lessen, even when Ao'nung snatched the wooden figure out of your hand. He heard you wincing, but he did not really care.
For a tiny moment, his mask fell. The carving was very impressing, it really looked just like a mini ilu.
"Can't tell. You forest freaks don't have any other talents apart from swinging through trees."
His friends took a look at it as well, bragging about how 'awful' it looked.
"You could've just asked me to hand it to you, Ao'nung. It's supposed to be an ilu."
As you checked your hand, he also noticed the bloody cut across the palm of your hand. Now seeing that he had actually hurt you, he almost felt bad for it.
"Aw, did little (Y/N) get hurt? You're gonna run to you big brother now?" one of his friends teased before throwing the carved ilu into the reef.
"Whoops~" he flashed a wide grin, but you still smiled as friendly as before.
Instead of being angry, you thanked him, calling it a good idea.
The three boys watched in confusion as you sheathed your knife and jumped after the wooden ilu, retrieving it from the depths.
Once you came back to the water surface you held the carving out to them again. "I can practice diving like this! What a wonderful idea, thank you!"
Ao'nung looked into your eyes, trying to hide his grin and instead faked a mournful face.
"I should apologize for my behavior. I'm sorry for treating you like this. Boys", he turned to his friends, "apologize to her too."
They only looked at him in confusion. Ao'nung, saying sorry? There was no way.
"Seriously, guys. It's wrong to treat her like this."
For a moment you hoped there was an ounce of truth to his words, but before the thought could even blossom, his devilish smile returned to his visage.
"It seems that poor (Y/N) hurt her head, she probably fell face first off a tree. That's why she's so dumb."
His friends laughed together with him, so loud it also caught Tsireyas attention.
"That would explain everything!" They wheezed, slapping their knees while Ao'nung wiped his tears from all the laughter.
"What's going on?" Tsireya asked, as she rode closer on her ilu.
You showed her the carving you had worked on all day, and she immediately fell completely in love with it.
"That's so pretty! It looks just like mine. Here, look-"
She held the wooden ilu against hers, comparing them.
"And it's so small, it fits right into the palm of your hand!"
With that, she reached out to your wrist to place the ilu back into your hand, as she saw the fresh cut.
"Ow, you need to be careful while carving, (Y/N)."
When Ao'nung saw Tsireya inspecting your hand, he almost felt bad since the cut was his fault.
None of your siblings behaved like this. He loved how aggressive they got, his ego fed on that.
But you were so pure, so kind. It confused him. More accurately; it didn't even feel satisfying to mess with you. But why didn't it bother you?
You almost reminded him of his sister, even more as he saw you two next to each other.
"Let's just go, guys." He murmured with a shaking head and left.
~~~~~
The next morning you trained ilu riding with your siblings again.
Kiri and Tuk had already taken off as they had mastered these animals pretty easily.
Tsireya tried to teach it to Lo'ak, Neteyam watched closely.
Much to his displeasure, Ao'nung was designated to teach you.
"You're still doing it wrong, ugh! Get it together!" he hissed quietly, so that your brothers wouldn't hear him.
You shrugged lightly while he held his temples in annoyance.
"I'm sorry Ao'nung. But if you could teach me more precisely, maybe we can get through it quicker."
The young man sighed and grabbed one of your knees unpleasantly, pressing it against the ilu.
"Close your damn knees, skxawng. Now try again."
You gave a thanking smile. It worked better already, you noticed, as you took off for a quick round with the ilu before returning to Ao'nung.
"Finally. Took you long enough."
He turned to leave, but you stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait!"
"What else do you want? Unlike you I have something actual to do."
You guided your ilu closer to him to pinch his cheek.
"I wanted to thank you. For taking your time-"
"Like I have a choice." He slapped your hand away. "I'd rather be hunting."
You huffed at his comment and nodded. "You're always so stressed and angry, how about you come over and we teach you some human ways to calm down through training. A smile yould suit you so much better." 
Instead of a proper answer, all he gave you was that confused and disgusted look again.
"You're wasting my time."
With that, he swam off to the shore again and you decided to join your brothers and Tsireya again.
"(Y/N)! You got it!"  the young woman happily cheered while your brothers high-fived you.
As you looked back to Ao'nung, you caught him looking back to you as well. Once he noticed he turned away quickly, and it almost looked as if his cheeks seemed darker than before. Was he blushing?
~~~~~
A few days passed. You sat at the docks again, simply enjoying the warmth of the sun, until you noticed a shadow over your face. You felt someone kicking your leg, which made you open your eyes soon after.
"You think you can live here, sitting around doing nothing?" Of course it was none other than Ao'nung again.
"I've been busy until half an hour ago. How was your day?"
Ah, there was it again, that friendly smile you carried on your face, no matter what he said to you.
As you watched him closer, you noticed his bruised face.
"Great mother, what happened to you? Are you okay?" you asked while getting up to take another close look at his bruises.
Backing up a bit, he turned his head slightly.
"You can tell me how it happened, i won't tell anyone. Why don't you come to my marui, I can treat your wounds there?" He visibly froze as you invited him over. Something inside of him screamed to agree and follow you, yet he knew if your brothers would be there, he wouldn't get out alive.
"I'm a man, I can handle myself. I don't need you."
Why did he felt like he just lied to himself? Something about the sentence felt wrong.
Not listening to him at all, you grabbed his hand and dragged him over to where you stayed. Even though he refused to go with you verbally, he almost automatically followed. It felt like he was losing control over his own body.
A relieved sigh escaped from his lips as he saw that there was nobody else in here but you.
"Sit down, I'll treat your wounds. Just hold still for me, will you?"
Ao'nung internally cursed himself for following the order so easily. What kind of magic was this?
He hated you to hell and back, wanted to have nothing to do with you at all.
All he did was mess around with you, and yet you sat here now, treating his swollen face.
"Did someone hit you? You know", you gathered all of the utensils you needed before kneeling down next to him to take care of him, "I thought my brother was a troublemaker, but you're an entirely different story."
The young man did not say a word. All he did was stare at the ground, wondering why his heartbeat was betraying him.
He jumped at the cold feeling of the paste on his skin.
Giggling quietly, you covered your mouth with one hand.
"It's not gonna burn. Trust me, it will help you."
You spread the paste over his cheek with gentle touches. Some of it you also smeared across his bruised chest. He prayed you wouldn't notice his pounding heart which he couldn't even explain to himself.
"This will help you. See, that's better."
The treatment pleasantly cooled him off right away.
Ao'nungs eyes followed yours in mental absence. "Why are you always so mean to my family? We don't want to harm you, we just want to survive."
Your blatant words hit him like another punch and pulled him back to reality.
How the hell should he anwer this? He just didn't like your family. You were strange, different and new. He hated it for some reason.
On top of that, messing with your siblings just entertained him. But messing with you was... frustrating. And yet so strangely addictive.
You shifted into a more comfortable position and mustered him carefully. These doe eyes of yours almost made him feel guilty again.
"You seem so frustrated. Usually, people mess with others if they are hurt. They mostly are unhappy with something about themself. So in case you need to talk, know I'm here, listening."
Before he could get any word out, your parents returned to the marui. Neytiri and  Jake stepped in, looking at the two of you sitting on the ground. The entire energy around shifted in an instant. Jake decided to speak up. In english.
"Looks like your mind games are working, huh?"
"I think so. You should see how mad he gets when I don't react."
Ao'nungs body nervously tensed up from not being able to understand your words.
Were you talking about him?
Jake was very happy and proud that at least one of his children didn't argue with this young man. Instead, your mind games actually seemed to have an influence on his behavior.
You got up, held a hand out to Ao'nung then. He ignored your help and got off the ground by himself.
By now, your treatment had already eased some of the pain of his bruises.
"What did your father say?" he asked rather quietly as you walked him out of the tent a bit later. You bit back a smile seeing him so suddenly humbled.
"Oh, not much."
This didn't really help him at all.
"What kind of language is that?"
He slowly walked besides you, his posture not as arrogant as usual.
"English. I can teach you if you want?"
"Demon language?", he huffed, "What am I supposed to do with that?"
His eyes landed on you. After watching you closely for a while, he gave in.
"Let's hear it."
A wide smile spread across your face, and you gave it your best shot to teach him some basics. If only he knew what they actually meant...
Soon you arrived at the marui he shared with his family. They all looked rather surprised seeing the two of you actually talk to each other.
Tonowari walked over to you and greeted you with a simple nod.
Ronal also came closer, inspecting her son's bruises. Her eyes widened in surprise as Ao'nung told her that you had treated him, and she found nothing to complain about.
"We're eating soon. Why don't you join us?" Tsireya offered kindly. Seeing the two of you next to each other without him pestering you was a nice change of scenery for her.
Ao'nung looked at his sister in confusion, and something inside of him was pretty relieved yet also sort of hurt as you thankfully rejected her kind offer.
"I'm sure my family is waiting for me. I'll better be going. Good night."
As you gently patted his back, his muscles immediately tensed up again. It burned anf tingled, wherever you hands layed on his skin.
After saying goodbye to his family, you turned and left, leaving the young man rather speechless. Something about you worked like magic on him, and he absolutely hated everything about this.
He felt weak around you. There was nothing he could do to get you out of your positivity.
As he sat down to eat with his family, Tonowari mustered his son silently. Since you had treated him, he was so unusually quiet and seemed like he wasn't present with his mind.
"My son, it is good to see you getting along with (Y/N). She seems to be a nice young woman."
He did not answer, but only stuffed his mouth with his food so he wasn't expected to talk. Tsireya listened to her father attentively.
"Maybe you should invite her to eat with us?"
While Ao'nung stopped chewing immediately, he looked up to his father unamused, unlike Tsireya, who giggled at her fathers words.
"What a great idea! She's such a sweet soul, and apparently a great healer too! You've been circling her a lot lately, Ao-"
"Over my dead body. I can't stand her."
His father took a deep breath.
"If Tsireyas words are true, and I've seen it myself, it is rather hard to believe."
"I said I cannot stand her! What would I like about her? Her baby tail, her weird yellow eyes? Or her skinny arms?"
His words immediately reprased in his head. That delicate, graceful tail of yours that he caught twitching whenever he picked on you.
These shiny, golden eyes, which seemed so full of love.
Your elegant, almost fragile looking wrists which he could just wrap his hands around so perfectly.
"She's beautiful, Ao'nung, stop saying mean things about her!" Tsireya defended you in your absence, before their father spoke again.
"She seems like a good person. Bring her over to eat with us tomorrow evening. She can be our guest."
The young man balled his fists, both at his fathers words and his thoughts.
You were an ugly freak. Nothing more than that. A four fingered freak.
"Father I-"
"It is the least thing you can do since she treated your wounds." Tonowari said rather loudly, to which Tsireya agreed nodding.
His guts were tossing and turning. He wanted to hate you, but how could he? You had done him no harm.
"Agh!" he hissed in annoyance before he got up again to take a walk on his own, to sort out his thoughts.
'She is a freak. A forest freak.' Internally repeating this over and over again, a recent memory started to crawl up in his mind.
As you had treated him, your touch on his chest had burned. It felt like his skin was on fire. Yet not in a bad way, rather like a warm, tingly embrace.
You treated him like a friend, still all he did was pick on you.
You never took any defense. You never got mad.
It made him feel awfully bored at first, but that boredom turned into frustration, confusion and in the end; guilt.
Usually his ego fed on your hot headed siblings getting annoyed and even aggressive through his behavior. It was fun. But the more he bothered you, the worse he felt about it.
He wanted, no, he needed to get rid of these disgusting thoughts about you.
~~~~~
Tsireya hopped over to you and your siblings with a wide smile. All of you greeted her with the same energy, especially Lo'ak who was head over heels falling for her.
"Good morning, guys. Should we start with breathing lessons?" She asked, still smiling happily.
"Sure!" Lo'ak answered right away. You and Neteyam exchanged amused looks at his reaction.
"Wonderful. I see, you guys are getting better and better at swimming as well. Unfortunately I'll be teaching you alone today."
The girl smiled at you especially, as if this had to do with you. Did you miss anything?
"How come? Your brother's throwing tantrums again?" Neteyam joked, making everyone huff.
"Not at all. He's hunting right now, we're having a guest tonight. At least, that is the plan."
"A-a guest?" Lo'aks eyebrows furrowed at her words. Was she probably seeing someone he didn't know about? But she just shook it off quickly, seeing how his heart was about to crumble.
"Let's get to training, shall we?"
~~~~~
After training you decided to sunbath and relax in the sunlight on the docks again. Getting better at swimming and holding your breath did not make it less exhausting in the end. While dozing off, your thoughts gathered around one thing only; Ao'nung.
You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him. He was a pain in the ass sometimes, but after all, something about him made you all warm around your heart. By now, him trying to annoy you was almost something you adored. He tried so hard to make you mad, there was something cute about it.
You were almost sure that he actively seeked you even if it was just for his own entertainment.
The intense smile on your face almost hurt your jaw and cheeks, which lead you to the decision to cool yourself off. Immediate regret hit you after sinking your hot body into the cool water beneath the docks.
Your head started spinning soon,
swimming was only hardly possible.
"(Y/N)!" you heard a voice call out.
Yet you did not react, thinking this was only fabricated by your brain.
With heavily lidded eyes you tried to hold yourself over the water surface until you felt a hand wrapping around your waist.
Someone supported your body and held you up so you could calm down from the shock. Your upper body fell forwards in dizziness, against the chest of the person that held you up.
"Brother...?" you mumbled, trying to figure out who was supporting you.
"Yeah, take another guess."
It was Ao'nungs voice which was pretty close to you. While resting against him, you dropped the weight of your head onto his shoulder.
"And here I thought you didn't like me?"
Your voice was still quiet, even if the spinning lessened slowly.
"Don't get any ideas, skxawng. You helped me yesterday, so we're quit."
While he talked to you, you got even more comfortable against him. Never before had he been so close to you, but you were thankful. Him being caring for once was also something you could get used to.
Even as the spinning in your head disappeared slowly, you decided to stay like this.
"Did I get promoted from 'freak' to 'skxawng'?"
Ao'nung still held you close. One arm hugged your waist completely while the other one supported your back. He had gently pressed one of his knees between yours for more support, so you got to sit on his thigh.
"You're both."
You couldn't help but silently giggle at his comment, but so did he.
Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders while he still held you in his arms safely. You could swear that his hands traced along your back the slightest bit.
"How do you stay over water so calmly without your arms?"
"Cause I don't have such a thin baby tail like you."
You wrapped your tail around his waist, hearing his breath hitch as you tickled him like this. His facial expression hardened.
"It has other benefits." you grinned against his shoulder.
Again. He made fun of you and you laughed about it.
Ao'nung bit his lip in anger.
"You're weird."
"The way you don't give up mocking me is adorable and fascinating. Maybe this is just your love language?"
Chaos raged inside of his racing heart.
How the hell did you turn his insults into something so lovely? That's not how it was supposed to be.
He pushed you off of him and dipped your face under the water surface.
"Is this how you show your affection?" you asked with an amused smile once you came back up.
Ao'nung simply groaned and swam back to the dock, getting himself out of the water. You followed him and held him by his shoulder.
"Thank you for helping me."
His blue eyes stared at you in confusion. He was confused through not just your words, but also his feelings.
"Should've let you drown." he cursed before pulling away from your grip.
"Where are you going?" you asked as he stomped off, following him for a few meters.
"Prepare food for tonight. Why else do you think I went hunting earlier?"
"Right, your sister mentioned that you are having guests tonight. Who's coming?"
Ao'nung sighed, he didn't even look at you but just left.
"You." he said while walking away.
~~~~~~
You had spent the rest of the day with you siblings before going over to the chief's family marui.
"Dude I'd trade my ikran to be where you get to be tonight!" Lo'ak hissed at you.
"She isn't even trying to, bro", Neteyam laughed, "I guess she is the chosen one."
His exaggeration made Lo'ak turn his eyes. He would've done anything to get invited for dinner with Tsireya.
Kiri sat next to you and fumbled with her braided hair. "I don't think it was her choice, and I'm certain it wasn't Ao'nungs choice either."
You looked at her nodding, then back to Lo'ak who was still more than jealous.
"Is (Y/N) going on a date?" Tuk asked, she didn't fully understand what was happening.
"Yes." Neteyam grinned.
"No."  You corrected right away.
Tuk didn't understand. But in all honesty, neither did you.
Neteyam pulled his youngest sister into his lap and covered her ears before speaking again.
"He has to choose a mate soon, I'm sure Tonowari had this in mind when inviting you."
"As do you, dear brother. I'll better go, don't wanna be too late."
With that, you got up and left. It only took a few minutes until you arrived at the home of olo'ekytans family. Tsireya was the first to greet you, she got up as soon as her eyes landed on you.
"It's so good to see you!" she cheered happily while leading you inside.
You greeted their family with a humble gesture before sitting down at the place between Tsireya and her brother.
Ao'nung barely looked at you. Ronal and Tonowari on the other hand mustered you from head to toe.
"Our son's bruises healed in no time. May I ask what exactly you used?" Ronal asked with high interest.
"I've used yalna bark. I know you don't have that here, but I brought some from home."
Ronal nodded in approval.
She seemed to like you, so the first ice was broken.
Tsireya meanwhile got some of the grilled fish on a flat leaf that served as a plate and handed it to you.
"So, do you enjoy our customs and our way of living?" the chief asked, thrilled to get to know you better. He had no doubts about his son following his footsteps, but he needed a wife, and a worthy one at that. Some times already he had seen the two of you interact, Tonowari was sure that you would be able to handle Ao'nung well. On top of that, you were the daughter of another olo'ekytan and tsahik.
A few hours passed in no time. You sat with the chiefs family, ate, talked and laughed until it was late at night. It was getting so late that your father even came to check on you to make sure you were still with them.
Tsireya turned to yamn silently, it had been an exciting and exhausting day.
Most of the time you had talked to Tsireya and Tonowari, even Ronal had gotten comfortable to talk to you a bit more. Yet Ao'nung didn't say anything unless he was personally spoken to. He only watched his family and you interact.
Over the time, he caught himself staring a few times, and so did his sister. She found it rather amusing to see him like this while Ao'nung hated the fact that his heart wanted to jump out of his chest whenever his eyes landed on you.
He wanted to find negative aspects about you, but during his mission to find anything, he only ended up appreciating the smallest details about you more and more.
"I'm glad you joined us tonight. Know that you will always find a place here in the future. Feel free to visit us anytime."
Ao'nung clenched his jaw at his father's comment and took a deep breath. He hated how his father was trying to get the two of you together.
"I think I will go to sleep." Tsireya announced in a tired voice before she got up and went to her mat.
"As should we all." Ronal said, visibly tired as well. The chief hated to throw you out, he would've liked to see you and Ao'nung interact more.
You got up and wished a good night to the entire family, thanking them for the invitation and the meal before leaving  the marui.
As you did, you watched watched the stars burn bright above the horizon.
What a pretty sight, you thought, until your ears twitched at the sound of silent voices.
"Son, I'm not discussing that with you!"
"She's old enough to walk home alone, isn't she?"
"It's about courtesy and politeness!"
You sighed as you heard Ao'nung and his father arguing and hissing at each other.
"I can't stand her anyway! I hate her! She's an ugly forest freak, useless and stupid! It's annoying enough already to teach her our ways, I can't wait for her to get back to wherever the hell she came from! Disgusting demon halfblood!"
"Ao'nung!"
Even if you did like him, his words did not hurt. You knew that he had a weakness for you no matter how much he denied it.
You looked back to the marui as its curtains swung open, only for Ao'nung to step out in fury, he wanted to cool his head off, but as he saw you so close he was sure you had heard him.
Even if he said the same things to your face already, he was still shocked that you heard his words. But seeing you smile nonetheless was something he did not understand.
"You're a bad liar." You smiled while looking up into the stars again.
"There are some things in this world that we have to accept. Some things we cannot change. It's childish to think we could control them through denial."
You calling him childish only fed his fury. Ao'nung balled his fists in frustration.
He wanted you to leave and never come back. You made him weak, made him lose all focus whenever you were around him. The most embarrassing part for him was the fact that bobody believed him anymore. More than anything he denied his feelings for you but nobody seemed to believe it.
Was it so obvious?
He came a few steps closer only to drag you away with him. Nobody else was supposed to hear this conversation.
No matter how frustrated he was, his thoughts betrayed him again.
Ao'nungs curiosity about your wrists got confirmed; he could just wrap his entire hand around them. It fitted like they were made for his hands.
Shaking his head once, he got rid of the thought. At least, he tried to.
You looked around to where he was leading you. In no time he had guided you to a small bay, away from the village, where the two of you could be alone.
He turned towards you and pulled you closer by your wrist.
"Why?" was all he managed to get out, but all you did was look at him in confusion.
"What why?"
Aonung closed his eyes for a second, trying to remain focussed.
"Why are you so nice? I don't understand! I treat you like this, I pick on you every day and all you do is laugh! You never defend yourself! By Eywa, why are you so friendly? Why do you like me?"
You watched how he got completely mad, his eyes were filled with rage.
"Frustrating, isn't it?"
"You've been doing this on purpose?!"
His jaw dropped in anger while you simply smiled.
"You mocked me and my siblings on purpose too. It's fun to see them get mad, right?"
Ao'nung was completely speechless. It suddenly clicked in his head. All you had ever done was making him feel how he made your siblings feel.
And now that he thought about it, your behavior was only fair.
Something deep inside of his mind visibly changed. His anger turned into realization. He couldn't be mad at you, as much as he wanted to hate you.
"See, Ao'nung, I was never mad at you because that is what you wanted to achieve."
He swallowed the big lump in his throat. Nothing compared to the hatred he felt for admitting that you haven't done anything wrong. His tight grip around your wrist had loosened, his furious eyes seemed to calm down as well.
You came closer to him and took his hands instead, but he pulled away. Sighing, you engaged once more and placed both hands on his cheeks to hold him in place.
"Be honest to yourself; do you really hate me that much?"
At the question, his eyes darted right at yours, then softened at the sight of your gentle expression.
"... Maybe not that much..." he mumbled in shame, knowing this was definitely an understatement.
Your thumbs caressed his cheeks while your over four fingers softly traced over his neck.
"I forgive you, Ao'nung."
He almost overheard your voice since he was only paying attention to your soft touches and these golden eyes of yours which he secretly adored so much.
Once more he swallowed as he lost himself in your eyes.
As guilt took over his heart completely, he simply pulled you closer and held you pressed against himself. His arms fell around your neck, one hand buried in your hair, caressing your head carefully.
"What I said to my father about you-"
"No worries. Like i said, you're a terrible liar."
He swallowed heavily at your words again. Was he so transparent for you?
"I know you like me. But you've grown on me as well." you giggled into the crook of his neck.
"You're weird... but at least you have a good taste in boys..." You looked up to him, his face actually turned into a genuine smile.
"You're a skxawng , you know that, Ao'nung?"
You pinched his cheeks playfully until he pulled away, only to lift your head and look into your eyes once more.
"And you're a freak. My freak."
4K notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 3 months
Note
span it into March, Liz. Make us cry instead
You asked for it.
Pieces of You Pt 1
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Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected
Warnings - depression, self destructive behavior, babies, grieving, loss of motivation in life, Rhys feels his spark is gone, we haven't seen into readers headspace yet
Prologue
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Rhys had not left his bed in 7 days. He had not changed. He had not bathed. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes as a permanent reminder of the lack of sleep he allowed himself.
It took one week. One week for him to feel the light Feyre lit in his soul to go out. One week for him to feel the last of his spark die. One week of tugging nothing but an aching empty void. Rhys saw no joy in life anymore, just burden and heartache.
Cassian entered the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. It had been like this the whole time. Each day, a different member of the Inner Circle would come to his newly claimed room. They'd try to tell him about his son, try to force him to eat, to drink something other than another bottle of whiskey or wine. They all would leave when they realized he wouldn't budge, and that's how Rhys wanted it to be right now. He wanted to be alone. To drown himself in self hatred, in guilt, in anger, in the depths of sadness he had never felt before. “She's asking when you're going to come see him. She's concerned you aren't bonding with him and-”
“Tell her I just lost my fucking mate and I will see him when I'm ready to.” Rhys growled out every letter, glaring at Cassian. “She's fully fucking capable of caring for both of them.”
Cassian's shoulders fell. “Rhys, she just lost her mate, too, remember? The so-called accident in the port? The one we are fairly sure Beron and Koschei planned? He was one of the males killed.”
A moment of sympathy crossed through Rhysand's face before his own grieve ate through the emotion completely. “She was one of Feyre's friends, Rhys. Trust me. She's mourning as hard as we all are as well as mourning her mate, and trying to process it all while caring for two newborns in her home unexpectedly.”
Rhys rolled away from him, indicated he was done, and Cassian sighed, looking down towards his feet. “She's keeping Nyx alive, selflessly, Rhys. Our last physical piece of Feyre. At least consider going and seeing him.”
-
Members of the Inner Circle had all but moved into your cottage.
You had gone from just you and Wen to you, Wen, Nyx, and which ever member or members arrived to take care of you that day.
Today, Lady Death stood at your door with Cassian. They were holding baby supplies, food for lunch, and clothes for both of the babies. Nesta was a shell, moving into the home in silence and setting things down as if time was moving at a slower pace for her.
Cassian tucked your messy hair behind your ear. “I asked him to come see Nyx.”
Your eyes lit up, hope for the little heir shining in them. “And?” Cassian just shook his head, eyes beginning to water as he did.
“Is he asleep?” You nodded at the question. “And Little Mor?” You nodded again.
“I fed them both about 20 minutes ago.”
“Go do something for you,” Nesta's voice was lifeless. “We will make lunch. Azriel will be here soon.”
Azriel had become a constant companion. As soon as he realized Rhys had no interest in seeing Nyx, he had been here, standing in where a father should be. Doing whatever you needed, whatever the babies needed. Even though he was there for Nyx, he still treated “Little Mor," as the Inner Circle had all named your daughter, like he was here for her too.
You moved into your bathroom, looking at the now lukewarm bath you had drawn for yourself. It would be fine. You'd be quick. Then you would be ready to go be super mom and nanny again.
-
Azriel froze when he saw Rhys dressed in casual clothing, waiting for him at the door. He had lunch for the High Lord, hoping he'd be able to make him eat before leaving to be with you and his favorite babies. A shadow curled his ear, whispering how Rhys wanted to go see his son. How he needed to meet you officially. How he was struggling to set aside his own needs. How he was a scared lamb where a lion once stood, ready to run the second things became too difficult.
Azriel held a hand out, reaching for Rhys like the brothers had reached for each other so many times before. He waited, smiling softly at Rhys as a shaking hand placed itself in his and he walked them through the shadows before Rhys could change his mind.
-
Struggling flowers in pots sat outside of the cottage, wilting slightly from the lack of time and care put into them. A blue door sat on silver hinges, greeting them brightly. Mocking Rhysand's sadness with its cheerful presence.
You were an artist, Rhys knew that much. Where Feyre loved to paint, you used charcoal to express yourself. He also knew the two of you were fast friends, constantly having lunch together, shopping together, giggling.
You had been all Feyre spoke of when she met you 4 months ago. Her first true friend with no ties to a lover, to the inner circle, to obligations. You chose her, and she relished in every moment of your love, and from what Rhys understood, you relished in hers.
Rhys had a piece of your artwork. You had sketched out Feyre, mind and hands deep in paint, glowing towards the tail end of her pregnancy as she worked on painting Nesta rising from the Lake as Lady Death.
You had an impeccable eye for details and for making emotions readable through lines. You were a true gem to the Rainbow. A valued member of Velaris. He knew your name long before Feyre had mentioned you, but now, you were irreplaceable.
To him, to Nyx, to the Inner Circle.
They owed you. Rhys owned you. The very least he could do was drag himself out of a bed, throw on clothing, and come see his son. Rhys shook as his hand reached to knock, before scarred ones gently lowered His and twisted the knob.
“We don't knock. We just enter. No loud noises, okay?" Azriel opened the door, nodding to where Nesta sat with her hands on her hand, and Cassian was making lunch. “They must be sleeping?”
Cass nodded not turning his back to face them yet. “Little Mor and Nyx just fell asleep 25 minutes go. Y/n is Bathing in cold water because Mother forbid that female takes a moment for herself-”
As if on cue, as if sensing Rhysand's presence, a piercing cry broke through the house, and they heard a door open and then another. Azriel pulled Rhys with him to the nursery where Nyx and Morwenna slept during the day. "That cry was Nyx," Azriel said softly. "He struggles during naptime. Little Mor has a more rattle cry."
Long hair dripped water onto the wooden floorboards as a small winged figure rested his head on a bare shoulder. “I know, sweetheart,” you bounced him so softly, soothing him back to sleep. “I know you're lonely. It's okay. We can cuddle, I don't mind.” A deep huff left his mouth as he settled in, basking in the contact you were offering him.
Rhys moved like a ghost to the second bassinet where a sweet girl slept, happy and content for what he hoped was a few more moments.
The two of them could have been twins. Same dark hair, similar noses, similar lips set in a forever baby pout.
Aside from gender, there were only two glaring details sitting on Nyx's back that were the tell-tale sign of their different parents. Two glaring details that killed his mate, his wife. “And your son's mother,” a soft feminine voice whispered. “She was his mother, too, High Lord. He is missing her just as much as you are.”
Azriel looked to Rhys, calling for him in his mind. Daemati. Check your shields.
"His shields are fine. He's just screaming his thoughts like they're going to manifest into life if he does."
A deep voice finally answered, void of all emotion. “I don't think he misses her half as much as I do, my lady,” Rhys continued to look at Morwenna. A picture-perfect babe who caused you no harm.
“Little Mor,” Azriel said as he stroked her tuff of dark hair. "This is Morwenna, but we call her Little Mor.” Azriel then moved to Nyx, a ghost of a smile as his lips quickly trembled before he masked it. “You should hold him, Rhys. He might remember your voice.”
“It would be good for both of you,” you whispered. “He needs you. Look into his little mind and then Wen’s,” a pointed look to Azriel allowed Rhys to finally see you.
Tired eyes, features pale from exhaustion, a small smile that didn't reach your eyes. Your beautiful eyes. You were stunning, even by high fae standards, Rhys knew that, but he could hardly appreciate it the way he once had. There was no more beauty in his world. No more light. Feyre had taken it all with her.
“High Lord, please, holding him. Even just for a second.” You moved to Rhys, standing before him, offering so much more than just his son. “He needs you, and you need him. Just open your eyes and see that.”
Rhys held out shaking hands, taking his son in his arms for the first time, holding him for the first time. Bright blue eyes looked up at him, laced with sleep and confusion, before snuggling so closely into his chest that Rhysand felt something stir again. You moved him to the chair, forcing him to sit and handing him tissues as the tears began to fall.
He looked up to where you had grabbed your daughter before she could start crying, soothing her as well. He listened to the soft whispers of your voice, he watched you care for her no differently than you had Nyx, treating them like they were both your own.
It explained the little heir's health, the rolls beginning to form on his little body, the rosy cheeks. You loved him like he was yours, and he loved you.
Rhys looked back down, and as he stared at Nyx, watching each little movement of his chest, feeling his warmth, his happy thoughts and dreams of his and Feyre's voices, of you singing to him and rocking him to sleep. Looking at his son, Rhys realized that maybe, just maybe, there was still some light left in this world. He felt for the first time in a week that maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to live for.
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