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baldysgate · 6 months

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Quiet Moments

HALSIN/GN!TAV SFW || ACT II SPOILERS || CONFESSIONS || FLUFF || 2ND PERSON POV ||

No Warnings just a giant sweet druid and Tav slowly confessing their feelings. Mention of Tav having healing spell.

NOTE: A bit of fluff between ACT II & III for Halsin.

You hear him before you see him, a loud grunt from along the lakes shoreline as you make your daily rounds after a long day. The sun is close to sinking past the horizon, everything bathed in an orange hue.

The Druid sits on the soft white sand, back against a bit of driftwood that made its way ashore, one arm winding a white cloth around the other as he does his best to stifle the pains that rise up in his chest.

"You know there's spells for that." You say softly as to not startle him, and despite the pain he turns his head with a smile that creases the corners of his lips.

"Ah, hello." He leans back, the old wood creaking beneath his weight, "afraid I ran out after the last battle." He sighs and even though hes in pain theres still a warmness in the way he speaks.

And so he came here to lick his wounds? Halsin had joined only a fortnight ago and yet you were learning that the druid did not like taking up space, ironic given his size. It hurt to think he would rather suffer such pain than inconvenience anyone around him. You wondered just how often he'd done this exact same thing as archdruid.

"Here." You offer, sitting on the driftwood with a soft smile, "Let me see."

His brows turn up slightly, as his lips parted only to close again, relinquishing the cloth to your mercy.

The bit he had managed to wrap soaked the cloth with red stains, pulling it away from the angered gash ever so softly as to not cause him further discomfort. With you near he seemed to stifle the sounds even more as the wrapping finally came free. The wound was deeper than expected.. had he really intended to hide this?

"It is not as bad as it looks." He seemed to notice your alarm.

"Halsin, " your voice was soft, but firm, "I need you to take care of yourself. Maybe in the grove things were different, perhaps such things even went unnoticed. But I need you here. We need you here."

He looked up towards you, grey eyes looking into yours with a look of surprise. As if no one had been concerned for him in years. A pang in your chest to think it had taken so long for someone to care as much as he had done for others.

"I understand. Perhaps I have been a bit hasty in my eagerness to lift the shadowcurse..." He admits, "sometimes I let such things cloud my mind."

A gentle admittance, only the surface of something so much deeper. It had only been a few weeks, but you had grown fond of his company.

"It can't have been easy." You breathe, soft tingles sprouting from your fingertips as they press against the angered skin around his wound, "the shadowcurse. Thaniel. Biding your time in that grove and wishing you could just do *something*. I can understand your impatience… But you must take care of yourself first."

The faint light glows and the wound begins to lessen, angered flesh slowly mending. It's entrancing to watch the red lines slowly pull together once more until all is left is tanned skin.

The silence has gone on for too long, glancing up to meet soft eyes beneath heavy brows. Halsin does not look away, as if he had been studying the lines of your face. "I am lucky to be in such wise company." He says softly, still looking into your eyes.

You chuckle, realizing your hands are still against his now healed arm, the faintest warmth touching your cheeks, "Hardly that. I just know what it's like to be frozen in fear of failure."

He looks away then, as if giving such things words were far too much. Those grey eyes staring off to watch the sun begin to sink and give way to twilight, "I suppose that is what it is. Fear. Pity that I had sought to give words to such hollow feelings for so long and here you are to sum it up in one simple word." He lets out a sound between a laugh and a sigh, "Perhaps I have been afraid all along."

Feeling the melancholy that radiates in his words you lay a gentle hand against his shoulder, "Archdruid or not, it does not make you unbound to fear. Or any feeling for that matter. Like nature, there is a balance to all things."

The soft brush of his calloused fingers caress against yours, nearly daring to intertwine with your own. The feeling steals the breath from your lungs. But as quickly as the feeling is there it is gone again and you pull your hand away from him.

Now was not the time for such thoughts of bodies intertwining and sweet poetry spoken between lovers. It is true the druid had been a steadfast and loyal companion who you had grown to admire perhaps more than you had anticipated. But he had his own goals, as did you. The threat of the Absolute would leave no room for anything else.

"Your words always have a way of quieting the unsettling of my heart. I am truly grateful." He turns to look at you once again, a soft smile lined his lips.

"I am always here, should you need me." You smile back.

"And I, for you."

The moment feels far more intimate than when his hand brushed against your own, slowly being bathed in a blanket of night. The Moonglow accentuates the lines of his face, each one like a story woven into a tapestry. You recognize- not for the first time- how handsome he is.

"We should get some sleep. Tomorrow we make our way to moonrise towers and break the Shadowcurse once and for all." The confidence is more in your voice than movement, rising up to stand. You knew if you sat any longer there would be more than just words exchanged between you.

"Together I have no doubt it will be so. Go now and rest, dear friend. I need only a few moments to reconvene with nature." His voice is gentle, as if soothing a lover.

"Goodnight, Halsin." You turn to walk away.

"Rest well." He says just loud enough for you to hear it.

—------------ z z z

The fight had been unlike any your party had seen before. Hells, who could even have imagined fighting a God mere days ago? And yet here you all sat–tired, but alive. So many things had been revealed it made your head swim. The sounds of chatter between everyone had become overstimulating after a day filled with revelations and adrenaline that you quietly excused yourself and headed for a lone hill just outside of camp's light.

The land stretched out before you, the soft sounds of crickets and the rustling of nocturnal animals scattering on the hunt were all to be heard. It was a welcome sound after the infernal drumming of the Absolute that echoed in your mind just hours earlier. After such a grim and dark place the world seemed brighter, even if just for a moment. With a deep sigh you sit amongst the grass, back against the lone willow whose leaves danced in moonlight. The air was cool, a welcoming breeze as if thanking you for ridding nature of such a blight.

Your hand touches the damp grass, a bit of dew from when it had rained earlier, the smell hanging in the air. To your surprise your fingers glide against polished wood, looking down to see the familiar sight of a lute stashed away close enough to be shielded from the weather. It’s a dingy old thing..but someone had taken the time to repair small parts that had decayed or broken. Fingers plucked a string in curiosity and it let out a warbled off tune note.

“Ah, I see you’ve found my hideaway.” A familiar deep voice says from behind you , turning your head to catch Halsin walking up the hill, the light of camp accentuating his large stature.

“I didn’t mean to intrude.” You are already moving to stand but the druid gestures you to sit as he follows, taking the spot at your side.

“Not at all, such a place is better with company.” Halsin makes a gruff noise as he sits against the grass next to you.

“You’re not injured, are you?” You ask, remembering the other night.

“Far from it.” He smiles, looking out into the forest, “Perhaps a bit sore…But I feel better than I have in quite some time.” His eyes turn to you, the smile even softer still “You truly are remarkable.”

His gaze sends a shiver through you, hiding behind a chuckle, “I can’t take the credit, without all of you the outcome would have been far more grim.”

He seems to regard you for a moment, as if mulling over your words, “Perhaps. But without your leadership we would certainly be worse for wear.”

The familiar heat rises in your cheeks, turning back to look out at the landscape as you press your back against the large willow. There’s a pang of pain and you draw your arm upwards which sends the pain shooting through your shoulder with a hiss.

Halsin moves to steady you but his hand only hovers against your arm, “Are you alright?” He asks, voice lined with worry.

You wave to him, “Fine, fine. I think the adrenaline is finally wearing off. Just a bit of an ache, starting to feel my age.”

He chuckles, a warm sound that’s deep in his chest. He’s older by far, but he makes no mention of it.

“Here.” He gestures finally, motioning for you to scoot forward. There's an unmistakable trust between you both that makes you follow his suggestion without question. He stands up just enough to nestle himself between the tree and you, long legs coming to rest on each side of your own. The feeling is now burning at your ears, feeling his hands against your back and drawing upwards towards your shoulders. He kneads with his thumbs against your tired muscles and you have to stifle the pained sound that leaves your lips.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, his voice nearly at your ear as he lessens the strength in which he attempts to worry the knots from tired muscles.

“No, no. Just a little rough going at first” You mutter out, "but it feels nice..." leaning forward as Halsin returns to his efforts.

The night of the tiefling party darts back into your mind. When spirits were high and the drink was adling everyone's mind. Regardless if you partook, the mood had given you the courage to lay your cards on the table. You had known him less than a day but the strength in which he spoke, the soft reassurance in your brief meeting had made you want him more than anything.

Which is why it hurt when he had kindly dismissed your proposition. He'd seemed interested enough, but a small part made you wonder if he'd simply meant to let you down easy. That perhaps you had read too far into things since then.

And so the days had gone by, busying yourself with the tadpole and dodging death at every turn. It helped to pry your mind from the rejection but every so often Halsin would praise you with his kindness or look from across the fire and it all came crashing down again.

And now with his hands against your back, forcing sighs and groans from your throat only furthered your confusion.

As if sensing your very thought he chuckled, "Do you remember the night of the celebration in the grove?"

It's unfortunate that your shoulders tense, as he feels the tension immediately before you can think to control it. "Yes, very much so." The sound is but a whisper on the wind.

"I was enamored with you then." He chuckles, unfolding completely, "I had resigned myself to dying in those warg pens, drawing my last breath knowing I had failed to right the Shadowcurse from over a century ago. And yet when the world seemed darkest it gave me you."

Your hand brushes against the leather of his pants, his hands slowing their work as you turn your upper body to look into his eyes, a look of surprise washing over your face.

"But when you asked me to share in a moment of pleasure, well, I was hesitant only in that my mind had been elsewhere. To not give you my full attention then would've been less than you deserved.” His gaze is warm.

“But say it isn’t what you want anymore and I will remain here-as a friend, by your side.” He adds, though there is hesitancy in his words, as if the admittance from you alone would shatter him whole.

You breathe in deeply, smelling the earth and something distinctly Halsin. A smell of blended herbs, wood and moss. Over the past few weeks you had only wanted him more… A man who had already given up so much and was willing to part with more for the ones he loved. Hells, he’d thrown away everything to follow you into the depths of despair only because he had promised you he would. You didn’t want to take anymore, only to give, even if it was for just a little while. He had voiced his propensity to roam in both heart and soul, to be unbound as nature designed. It was enough in this moment to know this was truly where he wanted to be.

“Halsin.” His name is sweet as it falls past your lips, “ There is nothing I want more.” you smile, readjusting to sit on your knees, turning to him and taking his hand into your own and feeling the rough calluses formed from years of hard work, pressing the palm against your cheek. “We don’t have the luxury of thinking far past today.. but whatever this is- for however long it will be- I want it with you by my side.”

He breathes a deep sigh of what you can only understand is relief, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone, “You have no idea how I’ve longed to hear those words.” His eyes are on you, the flecks of gold around his irises bright even with only the stars for company, “Come here, to me.” His voice is low but welcoming.

You lean in, his hand at your cheek guiding you to him as your lips meet. It feels like the world crumbles in on itself, the kiss first soft and unsure soon growing passionate and desperate. His other hand moves to your back, pulling you into him so that your bodies press against one another. Your heart is hammering in your chest feeling his tongue dance with yours, running your fingers through chestnut brown hair.

Needing air after what felt like hours you pulled away, a smile pressed against his lips, “That was far better than I could have ever dreamt of.” He admits, his hand against your neck with a soft caress of his thumb against the vein there.

“You stole the words right out of my mouth.” You smile, a fleck of light catches your eye, a glowing ball of green light that draws your attention.

A sea of fireflies dance around the willow, their lights illuminate a sea of stars that swayed with the wind. The sight makes you gasp, watching them grow near before flitting away into the night.

“It seems Thaniel approves.” Halsin chuckles, pulling you into him so that your back rests against his chest, both of you watching the green lights dance before going out. It only lasted a few long breaths but it is beautiful against the blue of night. You can feel his breathing, a steady rise and fall of his chest that could easily lull you into a soft slumber.

There was no telling how long you both lay there, stretched out under the willow tree staring up into the stars. His arms found their way under yours, his warmth like the sun as the night began to cool. At some point through the talking and soft touches your eyes began to close, trying to force them back to just feel the moment for just a bit longer.

"Rest." He whispers your name , breath hot against your ear, "I am not going anywhere."

It's all you need as your eyes finally close and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

#halsin #halsin x tav #halsin x GN!Reader #gn!tav x halsin #tav #bg3 fanfic #fanfic #sfw fanfic #halsin x reader #halsin/tav #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 7 days

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A little wicked (Dark! Aemond x reader/rhaenyras daughter) really dark aemond. 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, au MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

🔷Author's note: Dark. I don't throw that label around lightly. you know the drill, dead dove? do not eat.

🔷Wordcount :4939

🔷Warnings: Smut, p in v, mention of loss of virginty, dubcon loss, death, misgony, misogny- aemond hates rhaerhae. Dark aemond, gore, blood.

You await your husband’s arrival, back from the battlefield. Today is the Battle of Rook’s rest. A battle that would go down in the History books of Westeros, Essos, all realms that ever were or will be. Unaware to you, of course. You are miles away from the battlefield, preparing for the return of your beloved husband, King Aegon II Targaryen.

You have prayed, for the first time in years, actually. Your mother didn’t believe much in prayer, more in action. You think her relationship with Alicent Hightower forever caused a deep religious wound. Religion is something that reminds your mother too much of her lost friend. So therefore, it wasn’t important in your upbringing.

Soon, you’ll be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and finally take your rightful place beside Aegon. You have the foolish hope that you, as Rhaenyra's daughter, maybe can mend the wound. Maybe your mother can be swayed to bend the knee, to give up her claim to the throne. If only it was that simple.

You await news. Any news. At first you are positive that Aegon has made it back unaltered. He has to. He is the king, the fierce warrior you know and while he is nowhere as good as Aemond, he has more experience than those Rook Rest soldiers. It has to be enough. He has to be enough.

However, as minutes turn into hours, and the sun and the moon dance and circle one another in the sky, you become immensely worried about the fate of your loved one. You are thankful for when the doors of the throne room are pushed open and Prince Aemond enters, at long last.

Recently, the young Prince switched from dark black leather to green dark leather, to fully show his support for his family. You remind yourself you are a hostage to these people, stolen. The corners of the prince’s lips lift mere inches, as if smiling. Yet he quickly brushes that away, as if he cannot be seen that way.

Cole follows, his face sorrowful and full of pain. The sort of pain you see on a father’s face when he loses a son. You feel your smile die as the world seems to slow down, to fade, and to darken instantly. Cole steps forward.

Aemond walks to you. Your feet rush, but your legs are frozen, causing you to stumble and to almost fall flat on your face. Aemond pretends to walk to you, but instead walks past you, to the big Iron throne that looms over you as a dark curse.

You watch in silence as he sits down, confirming your worst fears. You hear yourself gulp, as tears stream down your face. Your Aegon is no longer alive. King Aemond now sits the throne, and he sits it as if it took him too long to begin with. He smiles down at you, mocking and almost patronizing. Cole speaks, as first. ‘’All hail his grace, King Aemond of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andels, and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm!’’ The words hit you like blows.

Aemond lifts his chin as all soldiers around you and all knights, servants, everyone with working legs falls down to their knees, respecting and vowing loyalty to their new monarch. Everyone but you, that is. Aemond waits quite a while before he tells everyone to raise again. Likely enjoying everyone on their knees for him, and him alone. As a cat toying with a mouse.

After that the servants are rounded up, to be informed of the King’s fate. ‘’My dear people. It is with great sadness and immense pride, that I announce the death of my brother, King Aegon II. He shall be known to history as King Aegon the Brave, for he slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys. Had it not been for her treasonous acts on battlefield, our king would be alive today.’’ He waits a moment as gasps and relieved words cross the hall. ‘’It is with great pride that I shall now serve you as King, until my younger nephew, Prince Maelor comes of age. You may all now either bend the knee, or remain standing.’’ He gestures to the guards, and on his sign, they all draw their swords. A clear choice.

You watch as the one after the other servant drops to their knees, swearing loyalty to the newly crowned King. After that is done they are all dismissed. ‘’Y/n. Please stay here.’’ The use of just your name makes your hair stand up. It is intimate, almost familiar.

You freeze.

Aemond finally rises from the throne, a smile on his lips. You wait and remain where you are. He does not beckon you closer, so you remain there. He walks closer to you until he is in front of you. He looks at your gown, taking in the details of the bodice. ‘’My condolences on the loss of your husband.’’ He whispers, gently.

You blink back tears. ‘’Can I go home now? We must write to my mother that the war is over. She can come collect her throne.’’ You look over to the ugly iron thing. Aemond chuckles, adoring your naivety and your good righteous heart.

He even reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing it and wiping away a few tears with his thumb. He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it, tasting your tears. You watch, speechless. He grins. ‘’My gentle hearted sweet girl.’’ It sounds like a compliment and also an insult. ‘’I have no intention to stop the war. Your mother will sit on that throne when your brother Lucerys finds his head again. You will leave her in a coffin or when I am dead.’’ You scoff, insulted and step away, ready to leave.

He grabs you firmly by your arms, dragging you closer. You are pinned against his front, where you can still see blood on his shirt. His smirk only grows as you lower your head, avoiding his eye. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him as you silently cry. ‘’I haven’t lost, you see. I have the crown, the throne, and you.’’ He does the unspeakable and leans in for a kiss, leaving a soft peck on your lips. He moans softly against your lips. ‘’My darling, my sweet precious thing.’’ He murmurs.

You give him a weak push against his chest, barely moving him. But it gets the message across. Aegon is not even cold yet. “I’m your brother’s widow!’’ You yell in righteous fury.

He laughs at that, capturing you easily with your hands again, and you hate yourself that you like how warm and fast his hands act. ‘’That means nothing in our family. You are my captive, Lady Strong. Remember? From the moment I first captured you at Storm’s end, until your very last. You are meant to be mine, so you will be.’’ He promises you. He is calm and collected about it as if is stating a fact.

He reminds you of the day when this all started. You don’t want to think back of that day. You tell yourself it is because of Luc, who Aemond fed to his dragon. But it is because of Aegon. You miss Luc, of course, but that wound had time to heal. Aegon’s loss is so sudden and just as painful, but fresh. ‘’I am not yours, you monster!’’ You raise your hand, striking Aemond on his scarred cheek.

He finally acts, grabbing your hands tighter and dragging you close until your noses touch. He is trembling with fury and his one eye is full of hatred, lust, obsession and cold blooded plans. ‘’Striking your king, is a act of treason.’’ He chuckles. ‘’I am allowed to punish you. I could take your hand for this, little lady strong.’’ You huff.

You roll your eyes even. Aemond hates the silent treatment more than any insult you could have hurled at him. Instead of making it clear what he intends, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, marching you back to the empty throne. You kick and slap his back, trying to break free of his iron grip. He places you in the hands of a nearby guard, who all have been silent on this treatment of their rightful princess. Aemond sits on the iron throne and what he does next shocks you.

He grabs you by your hips, bending you over both his knees, as if you don’t weigh anything. He pets your hair lovingly and even gives your shaking body a kiss. ‘’I do this because I love you. You are in luck. You will always be able to defy me.’’ He whispers. ‘’All men who do so will meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries, but you, my special girl, you will be able to defy, rebel and upset me.’’ He whispers. ‘’Because I enjoy punishing you. And I bet you enjoy being punished.’’ You feel his hands on your butt, as he starts finding the beginning of your gown. You hear the sound of fabric ripping, and panic, bolting on his lap. He simply holds you down tighter, smirking as you begin to whimper. He calmly hums and with one brutal movement, rips your skirts. You remain on his lap, vulnerable and in your small clothes. Aemond sits up straighter, as if he wants to fully take in this view. Embarrassed, you lower your head in his lap, allowing him to caress your hair once more. ‘’Such a beautiful girl. You were wasted on my brother.’’ He speaks. ‘’You belong with me. You always have.’’ He then turns to his guards. ‘’Leave me and the Princess. She will pledge her loyalty to me in a private event.’’ You whimper as you hear iron footsteps leave the room.

When he is alone with you, he pulls your small clothes down fully, yanking them until your ankles, exposing you for all you are. It seems to awaken a certain hunger or desire in him, and he rips your corset and sleeves next. He fully admires your naked body, panting as he looks at you. He seems to calm down and finally he does what he promised. He hits you on your ass, spanking it harshly. You hiss in pain, in disbelief that he is subjecting you to this. ‘’Aemond, stop this.’’ You beg.

‘’You have no right.’’

He scoffs. ‘’I have every right. I am the King now. You were naughty, today. I don’t like naughty girls. Well, not as much as I like a good girl.’’ He says, talking to you as if you are a stupid little girl. Fresh tears fall. ‘’I like naughty good girls, who know what they want. But you aren’t there yet. You aren’t broken enough yet.’’ He says, joyfully as he spanks you. You give soft whimpers.

The spankings only become harsh when you remain silent, so you fake moans and whimpers to please Aemond’s dark desires. He sometimes groans too, as he sees how much damage your body is taking thanks to him, and how you take it.

“Aegon told me something before he died. He told me he never consummated the marriage. Is that true?” You wonder why Aegon told him that.

But it is the truth. You nod. “He knew when we first were forced to lay together I didn't want it.”

Aemond only chuckles to that comment, dealing another hurtful smack, almost as if to punish you for still loving his brother. “He raped plenty of women. I suppose you weren't special enough to make the effort.”

“Aegon loved me.” You argue, and you regret it the moment you’ve said it. Because Aemond slaps so hard that your flesh burns.

He groans now not of arousal but of pure hatred. “He didn't.”

“There's one man for you in this entire world.” You huff at his words.

You are grabbed by the throat, lifted from his lap and forced to stand as he chokes you. You are choked, tears stinging your eyes as he looks at you with the crown slightly slipping from his hairs and his one eye bigger than usual, focused on you, the object of his obsession. You fight for control but lose the fight. “It is me.” He reveals.

“No,’ You croak out weakly. “I can't. You killed my brother-”

He sighs, almost enjoying the view. His cold fingers finger one of your nipples, enjoying the reaction your body gives by hardening for him. He chuckles. “Such a beauty. Now. Defy me again.” You shake your head. He sighs, putting you over his knee again. You whimper against the cruel treatment, feeling the spot he struck. Aemond smirks, challenging you to speak out again. “I ought to keep you around like this. Just as the gods intended you to be. Pure, naked, unspoiled…” He feels the skin he struck. And you feel yourself clench your cunt, ignoring the waterfall he caused down there with all cost. It is true, Aemond is a handsome man. But this is wrong, isn’t it?

“May I please dress?” You ask, wiggling on his lap, enjoying when his thigh briefly rubs your cunt. That hits the spot.

The King laughs. “Such an obedient girl for asking me first.”

“The answer is no, however. You struck me, remember? That is treason.” You are embarrassed to speak. He laughs at that, rubbing your legs, drawing circles and kissing your skin. You ignore the butterflies. You can’t.

‘’Stand.’’ He barks suddenly. You obey, standing on your shaking legs, exposing yourself now fully to him. He leans back in the throne, grinning brightly as he takes in your body, toe to head. ‘’You can defy me as many times as you like. I will gladly put you on my lap and spank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’But if you say something regarding the whore that mothered you, I’m afraid we must do a different type of punishment. Am I clear?’’ You nod, hating how frightened you are.

He softens his face. He beckons you closer. You come closer until you stand in front of throne, your cunt barely touching the iron. ‘’I wish to feel your wares. I must see myself, If you and Aegon kept your word.’’ Without a warning, his fingers sink inside your wetness, inspecting you as you stand on your legs, almost falling over.

‘’Please, make me sit.’’ You beg.

He grins, forcing his finger to go deeper, penetrating you at the right speed. “No, you'll stand, tall and proud. I bet this is just what a dirty bastard like yourself likes. ‘’ It takes a while but sadly, he discovers what is happening. ‘’Oh, just as I suspected. A wet, warm and wonderful little place for my seed to crawl inside of.” You wail at those words, aroused as he fucks slowly, taunting you with his fingers.

“Stop talking as if we are going to -” Your talking is interrupted by a smack on your cunt by his free haunt, causing you to cry out in pain and anticipation.

He glares at you, shaking you as if you aren’t awake yet.

“As if? You think I'd kept you as a pretty cup bearer or something? I plan to make good use of you. Every hole is stuffed, until you can't even crawl forward.” He promises.

“What if I will have a child?” you whisper. ‘’That would complicate your status.’’

He sees that differently, mad with lust and obsession.

“That is part of the fantasy. Breeding you makes me happy. Seeing your belly swell makes me happy. You know why?” He asks, softly patting your belly. You shake your head.

“No.”

He leans in, gesturing vaguely down to his legs.

“It proves my seed is strong, powerful and well. It proves I have the power to make you, a stunning powerful princess to a good for nothing whore, carrying a bastard inside of her womb.” You sniffle, hurt and insulted. “Judging your wet and warm cunt, you have been thinking about me too. Why don't you admit that you want this?”

“Because I loved him. I loved Aegon. That means something to me.”

Aemond growls. “Shame he didn't love you. You know it deep down. He didn't mention you at all when he died-” You push him off you, taking off to the doors, not caring he ripped your gown or your poking breasts begging for touch.

“Where do you think you'll be going?” He demands, his voice booming.

You raise your head as much as a princess and dignity as you can. “To my quarters until you decide to trade me for peace.”

“Peace?” He laughs. Then that laugh dies. “Peace!’ It scares you how quickly it became an almost command. “You have exactly 3 seconds to get over here and to kneel at my feet and to beg me for forgiveness-” You don’t let him finish and take off running. But he is faster.

He simply drags you back by your hair, giving your behind hurtful smacks as he drags you to the throne. ‘’Ungrateful bastard. I can make you my queen.’’ He growls. ‘’Why won’t you accept that you want this? Look how wet you are for me.’’ He thinks as you remain at his feet, sitting there as a dog. ‘’I know something. We must train you, to ensure you are a proper pet.’’ He grins. One of the servants is allowed in, to bring Aemond a piece of rope.

You are worried he is going to tie your hands. But his plans are far worse. He ties the end around your neck, and holds it, as a leash. “Such a stubborn girl.” He chuckles. ‘’Now if you try to run, you’ll feel it.’’

“Please untie my neck.” You whisper, softly.

“Why? You can't behave, clearly. I must make the rules clear somehow.”

He has gone insane.

“Untie my neck, I'm worried I'll choke.”

“You know, when the right person is doing it, choking, taking control of another person's breath, nay, life, can feel…amazing.”

In response you spit at him.

“Spitting at me, you are a vile dirty minded thing, are you not? I bet you just ache for someone to pin you down against the floor and to have his wicked way with you. Don't you, bastard?” He growls, handling you.

“I want Aegon…” You whisper, half a beg and half a prayer.

He almost slams your head against the throne in pure rage. You can tell he is close to losing it. “Why? Why do you want that disgusting raper. You have me. You have all you will ever need.” He says. Then he sniffs your breasts, his long nose and hair disappearing between your breasts. “Fuck, you smell so good. So inviting. I can smell that needy cunny of yours.”

He stands up, keeping the leash in his dominate hand. ‘’I bet if I took my cock out you’d be fucking it before I could even ask you to.’’ He grins. ‘’You are your mother’s daughter after all.’’ To prove his point he lowers his trousers, revealing his manhood to you.

You are caught off guard. You never saw one before and it looks so strange yet familiar. “Look down.” He pushes your head down so you can properly.

It is red and swollen and evil in all ways. You try to glance at Aemond but your eyes are almost glued to his manhood. He snickers amused at your virginal response. “You'd like to feel this down your legs, little bastard?” He asks, and you are shocked when his fingers find your entrance once more, and now your soaked little cunt can’t even handle this. You moan, crying of shame and desire.

Aemond grins, taking it as a sign of encouragement.

“Get on your knees.” you obey, eying his cock. You wonder if it’ll hurt. But part of you wants to just feel good and happy for a moment. “On all fours.” He adds, groaning in frustration.

“What is expected of me?” You whisper soft as you kneel for him in the throne room. Aemond finally leaves his throne, so he may join you.

Silence. “I can't…I'm a princess. My virtue is everything to me-”

He laughs. “I can't wait to fuck you, so you for once and for all will shut up about your prestige and your privileges. You will learn, my sweet that I decide what your worth is now. Now, I am going to ask.”

You shake as his fingers brutally Bury themselves in your untouched tight cunt. “Do you want me to be the bad man today, little Maella? Do you wish to get your cunny raided by me, here, in the throne room, on your knees, as a little dirty harlot?’ You fall to your knees, crying out as the penetrating reaches a hight, as does your pleasure. You touched yourself but never like this. Not like he does. And his dirty naughty talk..

“Do you want to feel my cock take root and to feel me penetrate away at your innocent soft rings as they wrap and tighten around my cock as I take you on the stones, your knees bloody and your vision blurry as I bring you close?’

“Do you want that?”

You begin to doubt and he knows it. So he softens his voice, for show. “It can feel so good, Maella. You know I've won. You know it. You are already naked. You are already kneeling. All I need to do is put my cock……” He parts your legs. He rubs your needy cunt causing friction as you frustrated cry out. “here…’’

You nod pleasure winning. ‘Yes.’’ You say, consenting at last. He does not need long. He drags his finger nails in your hips, bringing you closer to his front. He sits on both his knees, as he slams inside of you, fucking you with a brutal war cry. You gasp as the cock pierces through your maidenhood, ruining you for any other man. Aemond groans in delight at your gasps, fucking you harder for every bit of sound you make.

“Oh, you're deep…” you mutter, a bit foolish.

He chuckles. “You'll handle me just fine. Any woman is a bit as a frightened stag, wishing to bolt off when a man climbs her. It is his task to smooth her back into submission so the ride may be��pleasant.” You wonder if he enjoys it the way you do. But when you hear his grunts and moans you know he does.

“Just as much of a slut as your mother.” He whispers and quickly gives you a kiss to avoid your anger. “Taking it all so well. You're a natural love.”

The fucking reaches a height your innocent body cannot handle, as Aemond comes closer to, and the fucking becomes violent, with him choking you as well now. “Meant and made to be on your knees, cock deep inside of your cunt and getting fucked until you can't crawl out of your bed tomorrow.” You gasp, your cries and soft moans filling the throne room, high on pleasure. “Agree.” He hisses, suddenly. For someone who claims not the care about others, he sure seeks a lot of approval.

You know you must obey. You know it deep down. So you swallow your pride. “Y-yes Aemond.” You say, obediently.

He spits at that idea. “You will call me King Aemond or your Grace.’’ He smacks your ass, sinking a finger deep there too. You buck your hips to him, eager for more.

You need to feel good, more than anything, you need to feel alive. ‘’Aemond, your grace, please..”

That pleases him greatly. “So fast, little girl? This is just the tip of the mountain, dear. There is so much more for you left.” He promises, planting dark desires in your head.

“There is?”

He nods. “Hmm,” He smacks your butt in a playful manner. “This is fun, but this is not the way a baby is made. I must stuff you properly for that. And there's your face…” You turn to face him, cock slightly sliding out of you in the process.

“What of it?” You ask, worried there is something stuck between your teeth.

You aren’t prepared for the answer. “It looks so clean. A nice, white and shimmering substance would look amazing on it. Something like my cum?”

“O, I don't know…” you stutter, foolishly.

You do know. But you won’t tell him that. “That is the beauty of your new life. You no longer need to know. I do. I'd love to see your cunt, breasts, belly, cheeks, chin, butt and hole covered in my cum.” He confesses. It is taking so long.

So you buck your hips to his front, hoping he mounts you soon once more. Aemond merely watches, grinning. “Taking me now, aren't we?”

“I do what you want. Just…give me…” You are at the breaking point. You are close.

Aemond slams inside of you, fucking you up and down the tiles as you scream it out in pleasure and he hisses, likely near too. “This?”

You roar in approval as pleasure explodes and you cry out in a soft voice. Aemond can be heard chuckling. “That's it, beauty. You keep being good, and I'll give you that and more.”

“Please, my King…” you whimper. “I can't…I can't handle it anymore. I need to ..I need it now.”

The King laughs, enjoying your suffering and your pleasure.

“Such a demanding little brat, demanding to come before your king.” The Spanking you get now is not punishment. It brings you pleasure and therefor shame. You nearly whimpered at it, but at the same time you enjoyed the smack on your naked ass.

And he bows your head down, and gives you the one after the other hard rough trust that only raises your pleasure. As the fucking increases, your needs reach a height unfamiliar to you and you stop, waiting for it to fade as you usual do when you touch yourself. Aemond sees this as the moment to strike, fully claiming you with a rough war cry and a trust. You fall down from your pleasure and come, all over his red swollen cock as he rides his own orgasm out on your spent body. The King is not happy yet, and fucks your body two more times after you are done with it.

When he is done, he finally removes the rope. You sit up, watching the tiles you fucked upon, sweaty and stained with your blood. Aemond cheekily grins, dressing himself again quickly. You look around for anything to cover yourself with. He throws his leather bloodied coat your way. ‘’Here. Cover. I don’t wish you to catch a cold.’’ He says. You think back of Aegon. And guilt washes over you.

The door is opened and a soldier rushes inside the room. You attempt to cover yourself but it is too late. ‘’My king.’’ He begins but Aemond does not allow him to finish.

‘’You saw my lady naked.’’ He says, instead of listening to his trusted soldier. The soldier blinks.

‘’I,I didn’t!”’ He quickly blurts out. Aemond does not even bother to explain his motivates, you can only watch as he takes his sword and chops of the head of the soldier. Blood and flesh come free as treat and paint painting the Throne room. You are horrified that Aemond murdered a man for looking at you.

You scream in horror. Aemond walks to you next, sword still dripping with blood. He levels the sword at his lips and takes a lick, before kissing your forehead. ‘’He had to die. Only one eye may look at your body. Mine.’’ He says, kissing you again as if it calms you down. It only makes you panic.

He sighs, taking you back to the throne. He makes you sit but this time there’s no spanking. Only sweet kisses and heartbroken mutters. ‘’What can I ever do to compare to Aegon? I want your love, my love. I want you to weep over my dead corpse.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want you when we marry, to become so madly in love with me, that when they find my corpse on the battlefield, you become mad and consumed with grief and you carve off one of my fingers to keep it close to you and you never think of a marrying another. I want you to die from a broken heart.’’ He whispers. ‘’I offer you the world, my love. It is ours. From Westeros to Essos and from the Dothraki grass sea to the useless kingdom of Dorne. It will fall at our feet, crumbled into dust. Thousands will die at our command, and their bones will become your crown and throne. Their blood will be your gown and their flesh will feed our love. Whoever offends you, shall die first. Let me be your King, and you will never need anyone else again.’’ You know you don’t have a choice. Once you cared about innocents. But you don’t have the luxury to care about them anymore. You must survive.

You play along for now.

Be Aemond’s Queen.

His second in command, the mother of his children, his lover and his bedmate.

To him you will be bow…

At least for now.

One of the days soon coming…

You’re going to take that boy’s crown.

//Not even therapy can fix this im afraid.

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longclawshilt · 7 months

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I’ve been rereading AGOT and this is how I’d summarize Jon Snow’s entire arc chapter by chapter

Jon l - Local teen bastard has a big realization that he has no social status while attending a royal party. He bursts into tears and goes to sulk in a corner.

[Interlude] Arya I - Local elementary schooler has an awakening about the unfairness of feudalism. She joins her aforementioned teen brother as they sulk in a corner.

[Interlude] Bran II - Elementary-age boy worried that his moody teen brother is sulking in corners far too much. He then has a terrible accident, which is a precursor to him sulking in corners as well.

Jon II - Local moody teen realizes that one should not make rash, life altering decisions while drunk. Now realizing that he has signed up for his local JROTC, which is a lifelong commitment to a frozen penal colony, he sulks around multiple corners as he says goodbye to several family members.

[Interlude] Tyrion II - Florida man makes fun of moody teenage military recruit who has just now realized that he has fallen victim to untruthful feudalist military propaganda. He laughs as the teen proceeds to sulk in a (fiery) corner.

Jon III - A local moody teen is forced to check his privilegeᵀᴹ after behaving in an appalling manner towards his fellow army recruits. Lonely, depressed, and homesick, he proceeds to sulk in a corner for a few days, but manages to make a few friends nonetheless.

[Interlude] Tyrion III - Perpetually drunk and annoying know-it-all Florida man strikes an unlikely friendship with a moody teen who has a tendency to sulk in corners due to issues making friends.

Jon IV - Local moody teen makes a new friend during JROTC training. Said friend is bullied for his exceptionally large frame, which makes for a rather poor soldier, but the moody teen stands up for him in front of the entire army base. The bullying eventually stops due to his efforts. Later, the two boys go to sulk in a corner, bonding over their shared sense of insecurity and rejection.

Jon V - Local moody teen finds out that his new bff is flunking JROTC. He proceeds to sulk in a forest, but still thinks of a solution to save said friend. Spoiler: he is successful and his friend graduates just fine.

Jon VI - Local moody teen graduates JROTC, but as a junior officer which is not at all what he wanted. He very angrily sulks out in the open, throwing a massive fit while he’s at it, until it is pointed out to him (much to his embarrassment) that this post will directly put him in the line of command.

Jon VII - Local moody teen learns that his beloved father has been imprisoned on grounds of treason. Incensed, he attacks a senior officer who makes fun of the situation. He is placed on house arrest by the army commander, which gives him plenty of time to sulk in a corner. However, his sulking is cut short when zombies attack the army base and he has to save the commander.

Jon VIII - For his bravery while fighting a zombie, local moody teen is gifted a special magic sword. He sulks about it because it should’ve been his father’s sword he’s getting. He is also conflicted because while he has already said his vows and bound himself to the penal colony, he still wants to go aid his family which is now on the brink of war after his father’s execution. Unable to do much else, he has no other choice but to go around sulking in several corners.

Jon IX - Local moody teen makes the foolish decision to dip out of army school to join his family that has gone off to war. He broodily decides to help his brother enact revenge for his father’s murder. However, he is unable to get very far because his friends catch up to him (with the help of his equally moody pet wolf) and is ultimately convinced to go back. Once he returns, the army commander gives him a good talking to and tells him that it’s time to grow up go on a real mission. This local teen has been looking forward to this the entire time, but he wants to go aid his family. He is forced to make a heartbreaking decision. Ultimately choosing duty over love, he has no choice but to make his way towards the north and sulk in whatever corners he will come across beyond the wall.

#really this whole book is just—life: *happens*#jon snow: *proceeds to sulk in a corner*#valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #jon snow #a game of thrones #bran stark #arya stark #tyrion lannister #sam tarly #and big shoutout to arya bran tyrion and sam for being his sulking buddies 🫶🏽

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sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 year

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Master List

Wednesday Series

Wednesday X Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

Killer in NYC

Tara Carpenter X Reader

Intro Never Split Up Girlfriend? Suspicious Secret Secrets Secrets Secrets Part II Secrets Secrets Part III Finale

She Don't Wanna Marry Me Lorraine Day X Reader

She Don’t Wanna Marry Me She Don’t Wanna Marry Me 2 She Don’t Wanna Marry Me 3 She Don’t wanna Marry Me 4 She Don't Wanna Marry Me 5 She Don't Wanna Marry Me 6

Requests/One Shots

Innocent (Tara Carpenter X Fem!Reader)-SPOILERS The Sinclair Sister (Blind Fem!Reader X Wednesday Addams) The Sinclair Sister Part 2 (Blind Fem! Reader X Wednesday Addams) Mastermind (Ghostface Reader X Tara Carpenter)-SPOILERS Mastermind Part 2 (Tara Carpenter X Reader)-SPOILERS Frozen (Gn!Reader X Wednesday Addams) Headache (Telepathic Reader X Wednesday Addams) Mine (Camila Montes X Reader) Cat Got Your Tongue (Wednesday X Reader) Might As Well (Wednesday X Reader) Just Say Yes (Amber Freeman X Tara Carpenter X Reader)

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inknopewetrust · 2 years

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𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

summary: steven finds a missing piece of marc's puzzle as the fate of their lives are at stake.

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader; steven grant x fem!reader word count: 2.6k

warnings: mentions of child abuse and death, depression, also i love layla, just making the story complicated. spoilers episode 5.

quick links: masterlist and gif credit to @stevenrogered ; Part II Here

"Where are you going to go?"

The eyes he looked into were glassy–the kind that did not want to cry but ones that also could not help that they would. He was hurting. He couldn't stay.

So, he swallowed his pride, admitting he wasn't sure.

"I don't know." His own voice betrayed him. Here, in this two-bedroom apartment in Manhattan he had been in one thousand times, he finally shattered and nearly gave up on himself.

But it was this street. It was the memories tethered to it that made life unbearable and the admission that he needed to get away was difficult, but true. And you knew that… you had to.

"Is it selfish to say what about me?" You laughed, tears leaving your eyes in delicate drops he wanted to wipe away–his hands frozen in his lap. Marc shook his head, looking out the window where the cars were parked and the tree outside of your building was beginning to lose its leaves for the fall.

"You'll be ok…" To you, it sounded as though he was trying to convince himself that without him here, in New York, that your life would be fine. You would move on, graduate from college, get a job, build a family with someone who wasn't… broken. Maybe if he convinced himself, you could have the dream of 2.5 kids and a white picket fence.

"And you?" Marc could never get used to the kindness you gathered in pain.

"What about you, Marc?" His name caught in your throat as you sucked in a breath. "Are you going to be ok?"

Transitioning from the window to the comforter of your bed, the pale blue flowers he could see in his dreams danced beneath his fingertips. Tracing for memories beyond this block, beyond this city, and somewhere he could go without the people of his past knowing every inch of his trauma. Marc could not answer with words because a part of him already knew a 'yes' would have been a lie. So, he shrugged.

"Will I ever be able to contact you? Is this it?" Steven.

The memory was becoming convoluted. It was no longer two people inside of a bedroom, but three and then four; a voice calling out to mute the memories words.

Steven let's go.

"No…" Marc's reply went flat as he responded to the girl. Steven's arm received a sharp tug, but his eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the sight. Marc, so broken and vulnerable, and a girl he had no memory of.

"Steven!" The Marc he was familiar with cut in front of the scene before him. His eyes pained, stressed, panicked. Steven lifted a finger, pointing beyond Marc's shoulder was.

"That's not Layla."

"No, it's not… let's go now." Marc's threatening tone did not frighten him as it used to. The scale was not balanced. So much of Marc's life was a mystery and he begged to remain that way, but Steven wanted to live, as did Marc–which had surprised him. However, each memory that progressed through Marc's life made it increasingly difficult to reach that balance.

"Marc!" Steven's own voice was frantic, not understanding Marc's motivations. "We are never going to be able to go back if you don't tell me what has happened."

"This is a good memory… There are very few good memories."

"Good!? This is what you consider to be good?" Steven asked, astonished at the ex-mercenary's behavior.

"It doesn't matter." Marc pulled on his arm, turning Steven around and back out the door from whence he came. "It's irrelevant to what we need to do. She's got nothing to do with this."

"I think seeing a girl as broken as the mirrors you like to smash is indeed important." Steven wiggled, breaking his arm free of Marc's grip, and facing the man as the apartment got further and further away and the hallway returned to the psych ward. "Who is she?"

Marc sighed, looking at Steven as if he was a walking parasite. Steven held his ground, not searching for the next door nor wanting to return to the memory.

"Who is she, Marc?"

"She's not important."

"She's not Layla."

"No."

"But Layla is your wife."

"No… yes, but we are separated."

"Then who is she?"

"Why? You want to find her after we get out of this mess and ask her on a date? We all know how the last one went!" Marc got defensive again, storming off down the hall with a grudge and heavy footsteps. Steven followed, feet pattering along the tile floor as the doors remained without memories behind them.

"That is not what I said!" The English man laughed, unnerved by the attitude. "Could she help us?"

Marc stopped, whipping around, and pointing at Steven. "She has no part in this, do you understand?"

"No, no I don't." Steven swatted Marc's hand down. "We need to balance the scale. I do not want to be frozen in sand because you can't handle your own memories." Steven did not know what he was asking of Marc.

"She is not part of this life."

"What life? This one–" He pointed to facility around them. "Like Khonsu and your… jobs."

"Yes, that one."

"Alright then, so before all of this… how long ago did you last see her? When was this?"

"This was…" He coughed, scratching the back of his head and racking his memories for a date. "Two days before I left the city… joined the military and never really looked back."

"Never really? So, you have not seen her since?"

Marc was unwilling once more to answer that question. Steven tried not to think the worst, but there were two ways the 'worst scenario' could go. One, where he never saw that girl, you, again because of an accident or disease or something worse; or two, he did see you again and he cannot admit it because of Layla.

"Marc…"

"Why don't we move on, huh?" Marc motioned carelessly at the door across from him. "I'm sure all of my life is here for your amusement so why don't we see what these shitty gods have cooked up for us, yeah?"

"Marc, come on…"

Before Steven could receive a reply, Marc opened the door and another memory opened. Slowly, the tales of Marc's life became known to Steven.

Trauma, resolution, trauma, death, trauma, and the people that perpetrated it. Steven was an empathetic soul–but he hated to see the man he had known as strong, resilient, and fearless, break.

The next time he had seen you, their mother had just passed.

Marc had missed the burial–intentionally so. The shiva began at the house that he had been berated in, beat in, lost, and loved in, and he could see the mourners gather inside.

Steven could not see the shiva. His arrival brought him at the end of the street and all he could see was a drunk, distraught Marc unable to face his father because he hated his mother and missed his brother at the same time. The pain of the past often found no resolution, but the people those in pain can lean on can lessen the torment–if even for a moment.

A figure appeared in the window of the townhouse. Dad, it had to be. Although Steven had no memory of this, he could sense the familiarity behind the stone. Steven observed Marc shake his head, take a shot from the flask, and stumble away, mumbling to himself as the emotions overtook him.

Halfway to him, Marc stumbled, sobbing to the ground.

Down the block, the townhouse door opened and the girl, you, older now, looked across the street and back down to where Marc was kneeling–making haste toward him. Neither could see Steven.

The closer you got to Marc, the louder your steps became, and Marc looked over his shoulder, shaking his head at you.

"Just go back… please." He croaked, tears flowing freer than before, and Marc pulled the yarmulke from his head.

"You know I can't do that." Your voice was soft, comforting. He clutched the yarmulke on the ground and felt the woven yarn become strangled underneath his fingers–it was not the same feeling as the blue, flowered comforter of the past.

You knelt beside him–not caring if the black tights became ripped or the shoes scraped the cobblestone street. Resting a light hand on Marc's shoulder, he leaned into the touch.

Steven felt he knew the answer of his scenario. Love was a complicated thing, even if he was unfamiliar of it himself.

"I'm here…" You whispered to him, letting him cry and not telling him the classic lines of 'you'll be ok' or 'you don't have to be sorry.' "I'm here…"

Layla wasn't. And that said something to Steven.

Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you laid a kiss on his dark curls and held him as he sobbed harder and harder, breaking away when he pounded the yarmulke into the ground before cradling to his chest.

"We don't have to go in." We.

How much did you know? Did Steven know you?

There was a strange familiarity to the moment. The dress, the hair, the face. He had seen you before.

"We can leave." To where?

Steven thought for a moment Marc was going to reply but instead, he turned to the side, his eyes rolling backwards, and you pulled back. Your face was confused, alerted, concerned but then suddenly it became sullen–as if you knew it would happen.

In a second, Steven was looking at himself, not Marc.

That is where he had seen you before.

"What?" Steven said aloud and glanced at you, startled at your presence but you did not flinch.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" His accent felt so loud in that moment. "Do I know you?"

Marc had warned you of this moment. One day it would come.

You shook your head, pointing to the taxi at the corner. "No, no… I thought you needed help, but I am just on my way… are you alright?"

"Fine, fine. I–actually… I seem to be a bit lost."

Your smile was strained, eyes hurt, and deflated.

"You're on Milwaukee Avenue, just make a call and I'm sure someone can help you."

"Thank you, Miss. I'll just be on my way then."

Steven got up, calling up 'mom' on his cell phone and Steven, still knelt on the ground, felt defeated–for himself but mostly Marc. It was then that the man reappeared to him as Steven went about on the phone.

"This is it." Marc said, reliving the memory against his will. "Mom's death and Shiva two months ago. This was the moment our lives started bleeding into each other."

Steven looked to Marc as the man stayed staring as you remained knelt on the ground, missing the taxi you claimed was yours.

"I just couldn't… I just couldn't face that again. All the things I had done…"

"Marc…" Steven spoke honestly, "all those horrible things that she said to you, she was wrong. It wasn't your fault."

Marc's eyes became red, his willingness to share pain now here. "I shouldn't have brought him in the cave."

"You were just a child. It wasn't your fault."

Marc nodded, not genuinely believing but somewhere in-between. And then he looked down again, watching you sit there with a sadness he had seen too many times before.

"This was, though."

Steven looked too. You picked at the underside of your nails, the sound rhythmic and distracting.

"She does that when she's upset." Marc said, chuckling and running a hand through his hair. After one resolution, another break occurs, and another mend must be made.

"She's the only person who could have handled the switch that way. She's the only one who knew."

"But I don't know her."

"I was gone a lot…" Marc admitted, not giving every detail. "I've lived in a lot of places, seen too much."

"Does she know about Layla? Does Layla know about her?"

That side-eye that Steven had been accustomed to was chilling but filled with so much truth. No. The answer was no.

"Maybe if they did, they could help us."

"Layla chose this life, Y/n didn't. I won't put her in danger to save me." Y/n. Name. Me, not us.

"Do you love her, Layla?" Steven asked Marc, narrowing his eyes to balance the scale. One more truth, just one.

"Steven…"

"If it's true it shouldn't be hard! DO you love her? She put her life on the line for us and all I am asking is do you LOVE her, Marc?"

"I can't answer that."

"Why not? WHY NOT!?" Steven pushed, the time ticking, the end was so close.

"BECAUSE I LOVE HER TOO! I have my own goddamn life!" Marc yelled back, pushing Steven's chest as the buildings began to rumble. Steven shook his head in both disgust and disbelief. Steven only knew of Layla, maybe he would think differently if he met you too.

The ground beneath them shook.

"Did you feel that? It feels like we just stopped."

As they ran, Steven looked to Marc one last time and said:

"Maybe the truth has set you free."

London was rainy—as you expected it to be. Having never visited, your beliefs had been based in fiction. Did Love, Actually really represent English values or was it fiction? You wanted to explore the answer but a higher purpose was calling.

Marc.

You had seen him on the news, global news. An attack at the British Museum had left you to consider your future for the better—sit waiting for Marc to (maybe) return or go looking yourself.

So, you stopped sitting around and booked a plane ticket with no return flight and the first place you stopped was the museum.

It had reopened a week ago with signs blocking the Egypt wing. The vast halls didn’t surprise you, nor did the collection of surely stolen artifacts gleaming from the projected lights. In one particular exhibit, Roman vases had caught your eye and distracted your attention.

“Have a fondness for early Roman pottery?” A man, American man asked. You looked through the glass at the reflection of a man with longer hair, a black cane, and boho-chic look aced.

“Not particularly.” You responded, looking to move away from the case to give him space but he lingered—setting off the alarms in your mind immediately.

“American? Where from?” He smiled with a kind face but his eyes recalled a different story. He moved with you to the next exhibit.

“Midwest.” Vague. He caught on.

“I’ve been meeting many Americans lately. They all seem to be coming from the same place…” he trailed off, looking at the pottery in the case you settled at. You went to move away but quickly realized this man wasn’t alone.

The room was filled with people watching, waiting. They were so close and inching toward you at a slow and steady pace.

“It is amazing what a little research can lead to, isn’t it Y/n?” He said your name; the blood inside of you ran cold.

“Tell me, are you looking for someone?”

“I think you have the wrong person, I’m sorry.” You tried to get around him but his cane shot out and pushed you back. The people kept getting closer.

“I think we are both looking for something…” he talked slow and low. His eyes traced every inch of your face—trying to memorize it in case something went awry. “We are off for Egypt tonight and I think you may find what you are looking for there… he always seems to follow me.” Taunting.

This man didn’t give you a choice.

“On second thought, you are coming with.” He pointed to the followers behind him and your world went dark.

The next thing you knew, you were in Egypt, sitting in a car watching as a scarab compass found a tomb.

You truly doubted love would find you here; no resolution could be made.

#moon knight #moon knight spoilers #moon knight x reader #Marc Spector #Marc Spector x reader #Steven grant #Steven grant x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #moon knight marvel #mcu #mcu x you #marvel #Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac x reader #Marc Spector x you #Steven grant x you

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teyamsatan · 1 year

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The Archer | Chapter V: This Is Me Trying

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

Summary: A vision Neteyam sees at the Spirit Tree puts a strain on your relationship and leaves more questions than answers. Another RDA atrocity leaves the Metkayina reeling and sets in motion events whose consequences will haunt you forever.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 11.6k words

Warnings/notes: smut(18+, minors DNI!), angst, mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, SPOILERS for ATWOW

A/N: This is it, the chapter where it all goes to shit! I am very excited to explore the second half of the movie and put my own little spin on it. I hope you enjoy where the story is going and are as excited as I am for what's in store. The song the reader sings to Tuk is important for the story, as are all the lyrics I put in it, and if you replace the river with Eywa, it all fitsss! Why am I seeing Eywa in Frozen 2 we'll never know, but here we are. Also, whilst the beginning quote usually speaks to the reader's feelings, this one I felt fit all of the three POV characters in the particular hardships each of them are going through. Ok I'll stop rambling enjoy thank you for asking to be tagged and liking and reblogging and replying ily byee

I've been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have a lot of regrets about that

And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound

It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you

You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

And I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

The next day, the tension between Lo’ak and Ao’nung seemed to dissipate, and you knew whatever happened after Lo’ak took off was enough to mend a relationship you thought was too broken to ever recover. Boys, you rolled your eyes. They would almost kill each other, and it would all be forgotten the next day. You and the rest of the Sullys, as well as Rot’xo, Tsireya and Ao’nung were hanging out by the beach, as Lo’ak recounted his encounter with the tulkun that saved his life.

“I wish I’d been there. The ocean blessed you with a gift, brother.”

“The tulkun have not returned yet. And anyway, no tulkun is ever alone.”

“This one was. It had a…a missing fin, like a stump on the left side.” Lo’ak was looking only at Tsireya when he spoke, like she was the only one there. She was also enraptured by his presence, and fear flashed across her features as the realisation hit.

“Payakan. It’s Payakan.”

“Who’s Payakan?” Kiri asks, a concerned look on her face.

“A young bull who went rogue. He’s outcast, alone. And he has a missing fin.”

“They say he is a killer.” Tsireya looked at your brother almost in pain, pleading Lo’ak to hear her.

“He killed Na’vi, and other tulkun…not here, but far to the South.”

You and Neteyam exchanged a look, worried for your baby brother who was in such proximity with an apparent monster.

“No, he’s no killer.”

Tsireya reached for Lo’ak’s arm, and you watched as he wrapped his hand around her wrist, holding her intimately.

“Lo’ak… you are lucky to be alive.”

“I’m telling you guys, he saved my life. He’s my friend.”

You saw your mate get up from his spot to place his hands on his brother’s shoulder, a desperate attempt to defuse an increasingly tense situation.

“My baby bro, the mighty warrior who faced the killer tulkun, and lived to tell about it.”

Lo’ak pushed himself away from Neteyam’s grasp, evident annoyance and frustration emanating from his whole body.

“You guys aren’t listening.”

Tuk, who was nestled in your lap, spoke in the cute voice that made you melt on the spot.“Lo’ak, I’m listening…”

“Lo’ak, come back…” you tried to call after him, but it was too late.

“You skxawng.” You heard Kiri say as your brother walked away.

You gently removed Tuk from your lap and got up, determined to not leave him alone. He was alone far too often, and you wanted him to know he didn’t have to do this by himself. Neteyam gave you a look, and you knew he felt hurt that you were leaving him for his brother, and hurt that he knew Lo’ak would much rather prefer your presence to his. He always had, ever since you were all children.

You ran across the beach and caught him right as he was getting in the water.

“Wait up, you irk.” He didn’t stop until he hit the water, and you had to physically arrest him with your hand around his arm.

“Lo’ak!”

“Why does nobody ever believe me? Why doesn’t she believe me?”

Of course this was about Tsireya. You smiled a little at your oblivious baby brother.

“She does believe you, you skxawng, she’s just worried about you.”

He turned instantly in his spot.

“You think?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed a frustrated exhale. You called for an ilu and motioned for him to get on his own.

“Come, I want to meet this Payakan.”

You could tell Lo’ak was annoyed he had to wait for you, as you were not as fast or experienced in the water as he was, and needed to come up for air a lot more, but he didn’t complain. As you reached Three Brothers Rocks, he called loudly for Payakan, and you felt like an earthquake engulfed you as the massive creature surfaced. You were still a little scared by the tulkun, holding on tightly to your ilu, but you believed your brother - you trusted him, and you wanted him to know that.

Lo’ak immediately jumped from his ilu and onto the fin of the tulkun, which could comfortably fit a few Na’vi on it. He closed up on Payakan’s eye, and spoke looking closely into it.

“It’s good to see you.” Through sign language, Lo’ak continued speaking to his new friend. “Why are you outcast? What happened?”

You heard Payakan make a trilling sound you couldn’t understand, but you knew from the Metkayina they had their own complex language that you hoped in time you could master somehow.

“I trust you. You can trust me.”

The tulkun gave another trill that sounded quite content, and you smiled at the real connection that blossomed between these two. You saw Lo’ak smile a gummy, wide, genuine smile, and you couldn’t remember the last time you last saw it. The thought made you sad, but you pushed it aside.

“I want to introduce you to someone.” Your brother motioned for you to dismount your ilu and follow him, which you did cautiously.

As you reached his eye, you brought you fingers to your forehead and signalled an “I see you” to the mighty creature and smiled as it pushed its massive head a little closer to you.

“This is my sister.” You saw Lo’ak signal. You were both hanging on the fin when you felt it being lowered, and your brother told you to take a deep breath and hold on.

The next few hours were some of the most spectacular of your life, as you allowed Payakan to carry you around on his massive fin, feeling similar to how you did when flying at high speeds on top of your beautiful ikran. You mostly watched though, feeling as though Lo’ak deserves this moment for himself, deserves this connection that is his and his alone.

Eventually, they returned and you both got on top of him, sunbathing on his back while he floated away peacefully.

“So… Tsireya, huh?”

You smiled as Lo’ak turned purple.

“It’s ok, Lo’ak. You can talk to me.”

“I feel weird talking about this with you.”

“Oh…” you felt a little hurt at the comment, but decided not to push. “You don’t have to, I just thought you might like to. I don’t want you to feel alone, or like you can’t tell me things.”

“I would like to, it’s just, I have loved you my whole life, and for so long I thought that there was a chance that you and I might…” he shook his head, like he was trying to push the idea out of his mind, before continuing.

“It was weird between us, for a while, it was hard for me to watch you with my brother, knowing you were just one more thing he got that I didn’t… just one more thing he beat me at.”

“I’m not a prize you win at a carnival, you know?” You raised your eyebrow in his direction, a little indignant at his comments.

“I know… what I’m saying is that it is just a little strange for me, in light of everything we have been through. But I want to talk to you, if you want to listen.”

Neteyam decided there was no point in dwelling on his brother, or on you, both of whom were adults, and able to make your own decisions - and if that decision meant abandoning him and the rest of them on the day you were all supposed to go see the Cove of the Ancestors for the first time, then so be it.

With a small sigh, he got up from the ground and helped his sister up. Kiri eyed him intently, trying to gauge how bad his mood was, and right now, he couldn’t tell. He just knew he wanted to go, and calm down before he even thought about it further.

“Let’s go, it will be eclipse soon and I think you will really like it.”

He was excited to see the spirit tree, excited to see how it would differ from Vitraya Ramunong. He was excited to see what Eywa had to show him, what vision or dream he would be transported to this time. He tried not to dwell on the last time, the one he saw Auntie Jo and how she told him you were almost dead, tried not to dwell on the memories of seeing you in that room, a small and frail human, tubes protruding in and out of you like a nightmare he couldn’t wait wake up from.

They all got on their own ilu, except from Tuk who got on Kiri’s, and when they were all ready, they left. Neteyam was still amazed at the underwater beauty of this world, so unlike his own, but just as mesmerising, and he wondered if he would ever get used to it - ever not have his heart pick up speed in his chest at all the colours and the fish, at the coral and the reflections of the sun on the surface of the water, on his skin. When they resurfaced, Neteyam saw floating islands, that brought him back home a little, to the miracle of the Hallelujah mountains, although these were a little different, much smaller and flatter, and he thought with a swell of pride that although the beauty of this corner of the world was unparalleled, there still was nothing to top his own.

He took it all in, feeling all the resentment and anger melt away at the sight, arcades reaching peaks he could barely see, and the shift in the air reminded him a lot of the Tree of Souls - he felt Eywa in it, knew she was here, with them, right now. His thoughts lingered on you, on the fact you were missing this, that his brother was missing this, and how much he knows you would have enjoyed it. He imagined your face, glowing in surprise and awe, mouth agape and eyes wide, your ears flickering animatedly and freckles glowing stronger than usual, and he felt the pang of jealousy and hurt return in full force, fighting with his conscious mind that was telling him to let it go.

“This is the Cove of the Ancestors. Our most sacred place.“

Neteyam felt blinded by the sun as eclipse was starting to set in. He put a hand in front of his face to relieve some of the discomfort, and when he removed it, he was once again in unadulterated shock at the seascape beneath him. Bioluminescent glow brought light to the entire cove, purple and pink and blue.

“This is it. This is the Spirit Tree.”

The tree was resting on the ocean floor, and unlike their own, it was adorned with enormous leaves, reminiscent of delicate sea anemone. They dove in, each of them choosing their own, and he reached for his queue, gently bringing it forward to form the Tsaheylu. He felt air fill his lungs as the tree was providing a way to maintain the bond for longer underwater, and he was grateful as he always was, for Eywa and the way this planet worked together to maintain balance and a sense of communion among all its inhabitants.

He felt it instantly, being transported through space and time, through dimensions into a higher one, higher than his own, higher than he’ll ever know until his death.

He woke up outside of the clearing, your clearing, back in the forest, and his heart constricted at the sight. The smell of the wood and wet ground, the moisture in the air from the morning dew, the constant buzzing and humming of life all around him, the feel of the grass on his feet that he wiggled, trying to memorise the sensations it evoked in him.

He heard the unmistakable sound of a guitar, and a song he has never heard before playing, muffled voice breaking through the rest of the quiet sounds. He rushed to it, excited to see you, even in this universe, parallel to his own, you were still the only light guiding him. He was going to call for you, when the voice caught in his throat and his mouth remained agape, too surprised to remember to close it. It was you, but not as he has known you for a year now. It was human you, sick you, pale and skinny, wet from unshed rain, hair clinging to your bony back. You didn’t turn to face him, continuing to play the song that rang painful in his ears now, like it didn’t belong - like you didn’t belong.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly this summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

“Atan?”

You stopped playing and finally turned to him, and he hated seeing you like this, brittle and frail, so unlike the you he knows and loves, so unlike your soul, which shone brightly and stood tall. A kaleidoscope of emotions crossed your features as you took him in, a mix of fear, and happiness, wonder and anguish, all fighting for supremacy on your face.

“How are you here?”

“How am I here, how are you here, Atan? What is going on?”

“It’s good to see you. I missed you.”

Neteyam was so confused, his mind was mush trying to understand what was going on. He saw you slowly wander towards him, a soft smile on your face as you seemed to make up your mind about which feelings plagued you seeing him in front of you.

As you approached him, he tried to not focus on your ghastly features that he still had nightmares thinking about at night before bed, and he thanked Eywa for bringing you back to him, healthy and strong again.

You reached a hand for his face, that you stroke gently, and he couldn’t help lean into your touch, still familiar and necessary, even in this strange world, in this uneasy scenario.

“You shouldn’t be here, Neteyam. I am so happy to see you again, but you need to go.”

You were as tall as him, he mused. Even in your human body, you were as tall as you were in your Na’vi form, top of head reaching his chin, and he took you in his arms and into a hug, that he needed desperately.

“I don’t understand, Atan. What is happening?”

You hugged him back, as tightly as you could in this body that was falling apart in front of him, and pulled back, resting a hand above his heart, a soft tear falling down your cheek.

“Neteyam, I don’t have a lot of time.” You looked panicked around you, and he knew your time together was quickly coming to an end.

“Your life is fast approaching a crossroad and when it reaches, you will have a choice to make. Please, please choose right. And please, don’t think about me again, or about this. You can’t think of me again and you can’t tell anyone about this, you can’t tell me about this, do you understand?”

Neteyam couldn’t speak, couldn’t process what was happening in front of him. He didn’t have to, though, as you brought your face to his and kissed him, salty tears falling all over your face and into the kiss, that he felt staining the taste of you, that he loved so much. The last thing he saw was you walking away, your hand that you were resting on his body dripping in red liquid down your arm and onto the ground, that he recognised faintly as blood.

“I love you so much. I hope we never see each other again.”

He was violently pulled out of his dream by a hand shaking him awake, and the world came bluntly into view once more, commotion happening all around him. He turned to face the cause, and almost drowned as he saw his baby sister shaking aggressively, the freckles all over her body flashing concurrently.

He immediately rushed to her side and pulled her out of the water, by which time she had completely lost consciousness, and called for an ilu. He didn’t even have time to think about his own stirring experience, as every thought was screaming in terror and fear for his sister, who was not responsive at all, and whose previously bright markings were now completely dim.

Neteyam had to clear his mind and think. He’s seen seizures before, as they sometimes appeared in people who had the disease you helped cure. Kiri inhaled a lot of water as she was seizing, and her absent breath brought his own laboured one forward. He knew what to do.Thirty compressions, two breaths, thirty compressions, two breaths. As he continued the CPR, he saw with relief flooding his being that his baby sister gasped for air, now breathing on her own.

“Get her to the village. Hurry.” He thinks that was Tsireya, he was too focused on Kiri to care.

“Let’s go, let’s move.” He didn’t stop to see if any of them were following him, hurrying as much as he could to get her to safety.

You were happy you came with Lo’ak, although guilt was starting to gnaw at you when you thought about Neteyam’s hurt expression as you took off. You blew him and the rest of your family off on one of the most important days here, the day you were supposed to see the Tree of Souls. You knew that, but you knew it in your heart that Lo’ak needed someone to talk to, outside of his new mammalian friend, someone to show him he’s not as alone as he feels every day. Unlike the rest of them, you knew all too well the deep ache that came with feeling all alone, and you couldn’t bear the thought of your baby brother going trough that. You smiled a little to yourself at your conversation, and your now better understanding of his feelings towards the kind Metakyina girl, and you were grateful you were able to overcome a barrier you felt has plagued your relationship for a while.

It was a little past eclipse as you returned to the village and you saw with some surprise commotion happening outside of your tent. Your ilu took you right there in no time, and you jumped onto the platform, where your family was, alongside the Metkayina kids.

You hurried towards the entrance, where you saw Neteyam, and you gasped loudly when you looked inside and you saw Kiri laying on the floor, unconscious, Neytiri huddled on top of her, screaming for her to wake up.

“What the hell happened?”

Neteyam shot you a dirty look, which you recoiled at. Neteyam never looked at you that way, and you knew then he was a lot more upset about you leaving than you thought he would be.

“Kiri had a seizure at the Tree of Souls. She hasn’t woken up since.”

You ran inside and quickly got your medical bag out of hiding. “What have you guys done about it?”

“I gave her CPR because she inhaled a lot of water and she wasn’t breathing. She started breathing on her own, but that was it, she hasn’t woken up.”

“When was this?”

“Maybe 20 minutes ago?”

“Shit. If it was a seizure, she should have woken up by now. This is serious. She shouldn’t still be unconscious.”

“Can you do anything?” You heard Jake say, concern dripping from every word, tension thick in the air that was now hard to breathe.

“I can give her some IV fluids, but I’m not sure, Jake. She might be in status epilepticus, which is when a person seizes for longer than 5 minutes, but I don’t know what to do about it. I’m not trained for this. She needs EEG scans, which I don’t have, and she might need to be put in a medically induced coma so her brain doesn’t get damaged.”

“A coma?” He looked at you like you grew another head.

“I’m not sure, Jake, this is just a guess. I don’t have the equipment to run these kinds of tests. You need to call Norm and Max.”

“It’s dangerous, they are watching the air space, they could find us.”

“If they can help her, we have to try.” Neytiri stood up and came to you, taking your hands in hers. “Please help her!”

“I will, sa’nok. It will all be alright.”

Neteyam was painfully aware of everything happening around him, aware of people going in and out, aware of your presence back in his, making his heart race and breath labour. He was mad at you, mad at Lo’ak, mad that you both were selfish and left them, mad that if you had stayed, with him, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened - maybe Kiri would have been fine. On top of everything, his own experience at the Tree of Souls left so many questions, so much lingering in his mind. Why were you there? What did you all mean? What crossroads? Why couldn’t he think of you? How was he supposed to know which choice was the right one?Why couldn’t he tell you? You were his best friend, the person he told everything to, and most importantly, the smartest person he knows. If anyone would have an answer for this whole surreal experience, it would be you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Neteyam turned his head to see you standing there, looking up at him, a tired and pleading look in your eyes. He felt his anger melt, if only slightly, when looking in those eyes that still shone as brightly as the sun, and his mind flashed to your human eyes, that he saw for the first time in a year. He felt a little guilty for thinking of another pair of eyes than the ones currently staring at him, even if they were still your own.

“How is she?”

You sighed and turned towards Kiri’s unconscious form in the tent. “I don’t know. We won’t know until the morning, when Norm and Max get here.”

Neteyam scowled, not looking at you, but at the tiny flickers of bioluminescent light coming from the water, where fish were peacefully swimming near the surface. Maybe if you had been there…

“Neteyam… there’s nothing I could have done either way. There’s nothing I could have done differently, even if I was there.” Neteyam’s scowl deepened, but mostly cause he was unnerved by your continuous ability to see through him.

“I’m sorry for leaving. I didn’t think I had a choice.”

Neteyam let out a mocking laugh. “You did have a choice.”

“I didn’t, Neteyam. Lo’ak needed me.”

“I needed you. You’re never around anymore, you’re doing the exact same thing as you did when you were young. Pushing me away, isolating yourself in this marui while everyone else is trying their fucking best to adapt. Everyone but you.”

Neteyam knew he was being harsh, but his emotions were running high in light of the clusterfuck of a day he had, of frustrations that had built in him for months, that were coming out to the surface now, even if he tried to stop them.

“Stop… you can’t do this. I know you are hurt that I left, and I know you feel annoyed at me, but I am trying my best. I’m sorry if it’s not good enough for you, but it’s the most I can handle right now. I am sorry about Kiri, Neteyam. I will do my best to help her, but right now, there is nothing else I can do. I am sorry about Lo’ak, but you guys always give him shit and you don’t take him seriously and I don’t want him to be alone. I know what it’s like to be alone, courtesy of my abandoning parents and you. You don’t get to blame me for not wanting someone, my brother, to go through what you put me through. I’m sorry I am not out as much as you guys, but unlike you, I didn’t grow up swimming and I am struggling, and I feel like a burden, and I feel like everyone is abandoning me for Tsireya, and I just need some time to deal, I need some time to figure out who I am now, in this new place, in this - yet again - new life, another one in a year. And a little bit of fucking understanding would be nice.”

He was still angry, probably even angrier than he was, at you and at Lo’ak, at your knee-jerk reflex to bring back his leaving whenever you were hurt. But he also felt guilty, because in truth, he didn’t try to see things from your perspective, and understand how hard this must all be on you. Neteyam watched as you turned your back to him and went back into the tent, kneeling over Kiri. That could have gone better, Neteyam thought with a deep sigh.

It was the morning when you heard the unmistakable sounds of a helicopter approaching, and you knew then that Norm and Max have arrived. You felt happy to see them and relieved they were here, as you felt completely out of your depth in this situation where your sister was involved. You didn’t sleep a wink last night, monitoring her vitals and making sure she was getting all the nutrients through the IV. You haven’t talked to Neteyam since then, his harsh words still fresh in your mind.

A swell of happiness enveloped you at the sight of the two men entering the tent, and you jumped up and hugged them, trying not to crush Max’s tiny body in the process. Norm was teary eyed when taking you in, and you found it hard letting go.

“Good to see you, Ace.”

You didn’t realise how much you missed that voice and that nickname until now, like a constant noise you don't realise is giving you a headache until it stops ringing in your ears.

“We missed you, guys. Sorry this is not under better circumstances.”

You watched as the men took out equipment you didn’t have with you, such as a portable EEG, and looked at her brain activity.

“I gave her 5mg/ml of propofol every 3 hours to maintain the coma, but I stopped a few hours before you arrived so you could do this. I’ve been keeping her on IV fluids to maintain hydration and nutrient intake.”

“Good job, Ace.”

You looked alongside the scientists at the scans of her brain.

“There’s no bleed, there’s no fracture. No effects of hypoxia. Her brain looks good.”

“You still have this interictal activity right here in her prefrontal.”

“She’s definitely had a seizure.”

You went outside to discuss this further, while the Sully children and their mother looked over Kiri.

“Look, I don’t think it was a seizure.”

“Ace, it was definitely a seizure. There’s nothing else it could have been.”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Maybe it was a seizure, but I don’t think it’s epilepsy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, guys. It happened while she was plugged into the Tree of Souls.”

“I think the kid is right. I talked to her a couple nights ago. She says she could feel Eywa, she could hear her heartbeat.”

“That is classic frontal lobe epilepsy.”

“Epilepsy?” Jake looked out of his mind with concern, and you shook your head quietly, disagreeing with Norm, but not wanting to interrupt him.

“Yeah.. you see visions, you get states of religious ecstasy, like the kind she’s described. Plugging into the spirit tree is some sort of a trigger. You definitely can’t let her do that anymore.”

“What…? Ever?”

Max interjected softly, trying to be as understanding as empathetic as he could, given the situation at hand. "Jake… if she seizes underwater again, it could kill her.”

Jake turns to look at you, pleading, begging for you to disagree, to give him some sort of hope that this wasn’t as dire as it seemed.

“What do you think, baby girl?”

“I think Norm and Max are understandably looking at this the science, biological, human way… no offence.”

“I think everything you guys are saying makes sense, if you decide to forget who Kiri is. Kiri is not just anybody. She’s special, she is connected with Eywa in a way none of us can imagine. We have discussed about her parentage before and everyone has their theories, but mine is a little different. I think Kiri is Eywa’s child, as much as she was Grace’s. I think Eywa communicates through her, I think Eywa has bigger plans for her than any of us know. When I died, I saw my mother.” At the shocked expressions all around you, you withdrew into yourself a little. You didn’t want to talk about this, but it was necessary. “She was there, in Eywa. Has been with her, in this higher plane, ever since she died. She’s been watching over me. She told me that Kiri was the answer to the virus, that she would know. And she did. She has gifts, guys. I agree that her plugging into the spirit tree is a trigger, but not the one that can be measured by an EEG or treated by some Carbamazepine.”

“I think in order to wake up, she needs the Tsahik.”

You saw Neytiri thinking ahead of you, as she usually did, and closely behind her Ronal was making her way to your tent. You got up from next to the men, and all of you tracked back where Kiri was, and you watched as Ronal performed rituals you had no understanding of, but were fascinated by. Your gaze was fixated on Kiri’s face, as was the rest of your family’s, and all of you gasped loudly as you saw your sister’s eyes open slowly.

“Oh, thank God!” Jake was almost in tears, but couldn’t hold a candle to Tuk, whose face was littered by them.

“Kiri, you’re awake!”

Neytiri took her daughter’s hand in both of hers, bringing it affectionately to her face, as her and Kiri’s pained cries filled the muffled sounds in the room.

“Oh, Kiri, my sweet child. Oh, my sweet daughter.”

You were so happy, so relieved, and you couldn’t help gaze over to your mate, whose eyes were already on you. It was tense, the situation between you, and you wondered if it could be solved with one discussion, if this was really only about you leaving with Lo’ak. Your head moved minutely in the direction of the entrance to the tent, and he nodded at you, understanding instantly.

You left quietly, so as to not disturb the jubilant reunion, and sat on the edge of the platform, dipping your feet in the warm, clear blue water.

He sat next to you, and his body was turned towards yours, his thigh touching yours, his eyes staring down at the side of your face, that refused to look at him.

“Atan…”

“I’m sorry for what I said. It was hypocritical of me to hold your going after Lo’ak against you, when I have been doing that my whole life and getting injured as a result and coming close to dying a couple of times. I’m sorry for saying you are not trying. You obviously are, and I’m sorry I didn’t try to look at this from your perspective. You are doing amazing, you have had to overcome so much and you always come out stronger than you were, and every time I don’t understand how that’s even possible. I need you to know, that nobody is abandoning you. Tuk is still your biggest fan and she talks about you all the time when we are swimming. I think she chewed Tsireya’s ear off about you, and she misses you being around in the water with her. And Kiri, well, she just finds comfort in nature, and you know this, and right now the nature is… well, where you aren’t. You have nothing to be worried about.”

Your eyes lifted to meet his and you saw he looked… off, although he was being earnest in his apology. You couldn’t place what was wrong with him, what happened to him in the last couple of days, and it worried you, doubt eating at you mercilessly.

“I’m sorry for bringing up the fact you left. It was unfair of me.”

“Friends?” You smiled a little, still unconvinced that the situation was resolved, but cooing to yourself quietly when his hand caressed your cheek in the way that made you melt into him.

“Friends.”

Gideon stood behind as everyone was flying peacefully above the forest. He watched them all attentively, all of them, trying to think of everything he knew about them, everything he could use. He needed to figure out weaknesses, possible liabilities. He needed a plan to find you, talk to you on your own. He needed to know all the things he’s missed, needed you to know he would do anything in his power to protect you. This time, at least, he’d make sure he wasn’t too late. His mind flooded uncontrollably with images of his first daughter, Sarah, and how hard she had fought that cancer, how tiny she was, how he wasn’t even there when she died. He gave up everything, his integrity, and power, and life, his future, his family, his peace of mind, to come here and be paid the money that would save her life, but it was too late. It haunted him at night, the knowledge that she died alone. That her own dad wasn’t there to hold her as she gave her last breath. Further guilt brought shame deep in his soul as he realised he also abandoned you - willingly or not, you had to grow up alone. You were alone since you were ten, Spider mentioned, orphaned as a child. You were surrounded by Jake Sully’s kids, so he was hopeful that your life didn’t turn out as miserable as his nightmares painted it. You looked protective over them, they all thought you were all siblings. You had a family, one that he had no part in. It hurt him, the thought, it killed him like poison daggers, slowly, agonisingly. He hoped he could still see you, at least once. Could at least hear your voice, look into your eyes and apologise for all the mistake that lead to this, for all the time he has not loved and protected you the way he should have.

“Boss, long range patrol picked up a radar hit. A rogue gunship.”

“Where?”

“Eastern Sea, 400 klicks North.”

Turns out he was gonna get to see you sooner than he thought, and turns out he wouldn’t be alone. Fuck.

Everybody was really happy that Kiri was awake, except herself, it seemed. Neteyam noted with concern that she ate much less that she normally did, and didn’t want to come swimming with everyone else, which used to be her favourite thing to do in this village. It was early morning when the whole Sully family was up and about, most of them already gone. Later in the day, you would go deepwater hunting and scavenging with the rest of the Metkayina, but for now, you had a free morning. Neteyam peered over at you, hunched over the fire, chatting with Kiri and preparing food for her, determined to get her to eat. You sensed his eyes on you, as you always did, and you looked up, eyebrows raised in the direction of the exit. As Kiri was absentmindedly turned around, in her own little world, you signed to him in the language you now knew fluently. Go. I want to chat to her. Go find your brother. He needs you.

He did as he was told, walking through the village saying hello to all the people he has come to know in the past couple of months. The Metkayina were nice, he concluded. A little strange, but good, kind people once they got past his family’s… unique circumstances. It helped, he thought, that his dad was Toruk Makto, and he saw every day how people treated him almost like a deity, like a king among men. It was hard to think of his dad that way - he’s heard the stories, he’s seen the outcome of his war with the Aliens, he met other clans who he brought together during the time of Great Sorrow, but to him, he was just his dad. A little rough around the edges sometimes, particularly since the RDA came back, but still, just his dad, that used to carry him places and make him fly in his arms as a child, who carved wooden toys for them and taught him how to use a bow in a river near the village.

He found Lo’ak on the beach, deep in thought as he looked somewhere in the distance. Neteyam traced his brother’s gaze to a few girls, having fun in the water, enjoying the sunny day. He smirked when he saw the girl that seemed to take most of his baby brother’s attention recently. A four-fingered hand on Lo’ak shoulder startled him, and the oldest Sully laughed a little at how focused the boy must have been on Tsireya to not even notice his brother approaching at all.

“Bro, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I can see. Poor Tsireya’s ears are going to flame up with the amount you are staring at her.”

Lo’ak’s own ears turned purple and twitched in chagrin. Neteyam took a seat next to his brother.

“Lo’ak, I wanted to apologise.”

That got his baby brother’s attention, who rose an eyebrow expectantly. You and Lo’ak and your fucking eyebrows.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you that Payakan is good. And that I got jealous after you left.”

“You got jealous? Why?”

“Because she followed you. Because you got to stay, a whole year I couldn’t. Because you were there to watch her grow up, look after her when I wasn’t. Because your presence in her life was always positive and filled with laughter and human things I can’t understand, but you seem to, things you like. I think I’ve held a grudge for a long time, and I shouldn’t have. Because it wasn’t your fault. And I am grateful you were there for her, and that she had you. You have a connection with her I never will, and while it pained me watching you give her the Avatar, ask her to be your mate, none of it was on you, and I shouldn’t have let it come between us. I am sorry, Ma’tsmukan (brother).”

Lo’ak was speechless and Neteyam revelled a little at the sight, which was as rare as a new Toruk Makto. He should have done this a long time ago. There were plenty more things Neteyam had to apologise to his baby brother for, but he didn’t want to overwhelm his already disheveled demeanour.

“Bro, you’re going to make me emotional in front of the girl I like.” Neteyam laughed a little and opened his arms for his brother, who more than happily closed the gap and hugged him, just like they did when they were young.

They lay on the soft sand, bathing in the warm sun rays that provided a welcome respite from the constant state of moisture they usually found themselves in.

“Neteyam…?”

“Mmm?”

“How did you know?…”

Neteyam propped himself up on his elbows to look at his brother, that was sitting again, staring again.

“How did you know you were in love?

It was Neteyam’s turn to be speechless. In love? He knew Lo’ak had a crush, but didn’t realise how deep it ran. He thought about it for a long while, mind wandering to you, to your currently messy situation.

“Hmm… that’s a heavy question, brother. It might be a little different for me than for you. You see, I have loved her my whole life. Loving her has always been as easy as the air I breathed - as necessary, too. I don’t actually know the moment I fell in love with her, because it was not sudden. Back when we were younger, every once in a while, she would say something, or look at me a certain way, and my breath hitched in my throat… she’d laugh or smile up and her eyes gleamed in a way I only saw the night stars do, and my mind went blank. But over time, it happened more and more, until one day every touch, every glance, every moment gave me the same sensation, until I couldn’t be around her without turning into a mess of musings and feelings. There was one moment, the first moment, when I remember thinking ‘Shit, I am in love with her, what I am going to do?’. I think we were about 16 at the time, and I had sneaked out of our tent to go spend the night with her. We used to do this a lot, but that night, she fell asleep earlier than she normally does, and she fell asleep on my chest. I could feel her ribcage go up and down every time she took a breath. I think she had a cold, because her nose was blocked and she was snoring a little, and I just watched her. And I had never been happier, than in that moment, just holding her in my arms, and feeling her sleeping on me… and then she said my name. She was dreaming, and she said my name. And it was with love, with yearning, and my whole heart just stopped. And I knew then, that I could no longer hide, I could no longer pretend that what I felt for her was anything less than everything. That I would give her everything I have, that I am, for as long as there is still breath in my lungs.”

“Lo’ak, when you are in love, you will know. And if you are, then I am happy for you, little brother. Because despite the hurt, and the pain and the fights, there is no better feeling in the world. And if she’s the one, then she’s lucky to have someone like you.”

You finish grilling some fresh fish on the fire pit in your Marui to feed Kiri, and if you could actually get her to eat it, you were going to celebrate. You couldn’t blame her, having been in her position one too many times. In fact, if anyone could understand what she was going through, it was you.

“Please talk to me? I know you may not want to, but it’s me… you used to tell me everything. And whatever it is, we can work through it together. We always have, no? It’s always been you and me, the two girls with scientist human mothers and no dads? The two girls who used to watch endless hours of video logs and read through encyclopaedias, the girls who used to theorise about who our dads were, what they liked, what traits we got from them? I’m still the same person… just a little bluer, and a little taller, but still me.”

“I saw my mum… you know? The same way you did.”

Your mouth fell agape, but you tried to focus on being calm, so as to not startle her into silence once again.

“Did she say anything?”

“We hugged… it was so nice. It felt like home. We were back in the forest. I asked… I asked her why am I different. I asked her who my father was. But she didn’t answer. She was just taken from me, pulled from my arms and into the abyss. That’s all I remember.” Her eyes were leaking soft tears, and you went to her side and hugged her. She reciprocated, holding you close. “It was so scary…”

“I know… I’m sorry.”

“You said you had a whole conversation with your mother. Why did the Great Mother not allow me to do the same?”

You thought about it for a second, needing to choose your words carefully.

“I think the Great Mother is very careful as to what escapes her, because the knowledge that our ancestors, the people who have reached that plane have is beyond us. It’s beyond what we’re supposed to know. I think when Grace was about to share something that could potentially change the course of your life, your future, Eywa stopped her. Because I don’t think we’re supposed to know, we are supposed to live our lives with no outside interference.”

“But what could she have told me about my dad that was so dangerous, so monumental that Eywa had to stop it?”

You bit the inside of you lip aggressively and wondered if the Great Mother would strike you down if you opened your mouth in that moment. To be fair, all you had were theories, so maybe you should keep them to yourself.

“I don’t know, Kiri… All I know is that you are special. And that’s something to be celebrated, not hidden.”

A couple of hours later, you were ready to go diving, and a smile broke through as you watched Neteyam and Lo’ak walk back to your tent, laughing and pushing each other playfully. It was good to see them together again, it was good to see them be brothers again, like they used to be when you were all young. Neteyam’s face split in a dazzling smile, that took your breath away, when he spotted you, and your heartbeat rose as you took him in, those beaded braids flinging from side to side, his imposing yet boyish walk that you found so attractive, those piercing eyes and that beautiful smile, all there to make your tail swish furiously, a dead giveaway for your emotions. He didn’t say anything as he approached you, but took your face in his hands and kissed you, like nobody was there or watching, like the whole world was a mere void around you, like it was the first time. You were surprised and a little shy, knowing Lo’ak and Kiri were right there, but you reciprocated, melting into him, as you always did, and appreciating the very rare public display of affection. You were dizzy when he let you go, pressing his lips to yours gently one more time, and you laughed at the peculiarity of the act.

“What was that for?”

“I just really really love you. And I am very grateful to have you. And sometimes I feel I take for granted what we have, this meteor-strike, one-of-a-kind love that somehow beat all odds. I forget how you have been the only constant in my whole life, how you are the only one I have ever seen, in this whole world. I let frustrations get the best of me, and I am bad at communicating, and I am so so sorry.”

You looked at him incredulously, and then at Lo’ak. “What did you do to my mate?”

“Nothing, Angel. He got there all on his own, if you can believe that.”

You had no answer to that, as a loud horn was met with excited yelps and scream from all around you in the marui adjacent to yours. I think, whatever this was, it was safe to assume the deep water scavenging was cancelled.

You saw Tsireya on her ilu, waving her hand with a big smile on her face, as every villager around her dove in and got on their own.

“The tulkun have returned! Everybody, our brothers and sisters have returned!”

You eyes locked with Neteyam’s, and a wave of enthusiasm washed over you, and you took his hand and called one of your new little aquatic friends, wishing secretly it was Neyn instead, so you could share this moment with her. You both got in the water and on top of the same ilu, hurrying towards the spot everyone else was. You felt his hand slide up your thigh to hold you better in place, and as you wrapped your arms around his abdomen and placed your hands flush against his abs, you knew you had more than one thing to celebrate tonight.

The return of the tulkun was a spectacle few words can do justice. The mammoth beings played and breached and barrel rolled in the water, and you watched as their Metkayina brothers and sisters joined them, talking and catching up, sharing secrets and anecdotes gathered in their time apart. Both you and your mate were in awe at the events unfolding all around you, smiling from ear to ear and holding your hands tightly together. This was love, and you knew it too well, you felt it around you and within you, you felt it in him.

This amazing rare encounter marked a time for celebration among the tribe, and festivities would be underway soon and last for a couple of days. Tsireya said it is the best time of the year, with dancing, and singing and communal dinners and communion with Eywa to give thanks for the safe return of their spiritual brothers and sisters.

It was everything she promised and more, and once again you found yourself reminded of the beautiful customs of the Omatikaya, and how much all the celebrations nuzzled their way deep into your heart, to never be forgotten, to always be yearned for. It was unlike anything else, the feeling of community as you all danced together, girls courting their prospective mates, boys watching entranced at the beauty and grace of it all. The drums that beat in sync with your heart, and how your voice filled the void with music from your home planet that the people accepted and encouraged, and then later on, began joining in for. You wondered if these would also start feeling the same in time, the more the forest began feeling like a long forgotten dream.

You and Neteyam slipped by unnoticed in the midst of the seemingly unending celebration. You were chuckling as he was chasing you, tugging playfully at your tail and soon enough, you reached a deserted plot of land, hidden behind some shrubbery. You laid down on the hard surface of a big flat rock, and you both sighed as you positioned your head on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat and settling breath. You had your fights, and being with him was frustrating sometimes, as you were sure it was for him too, but damn, nothing in the world could ever measure up to this feeling. The feeling of his hand slowly caressing your bare back was sending shivers down your spine, and you raised a leg on top of his, getting closer to being so intertwined no would would be able to untangle you. He turned his body to the side, facing you now, and smiled softly at you, a look of melancholy pushing his eyebrows together. You brought your hand to his forehead and smoothed it out, caressing his cheek when you were done, action met with a quiet, low purr.

“Atan… I need you, so much.”

You kissed him, slowly at first, but as desire quickly overcame your senses, you were putty in the kiss, giving in to him as he deepened it, rolling you both until he was on top of you, one leg in between your own.

Neteyam moaned, overwhelmed as his consciousness was flooded by your scent, your taste, your body. His mind was in shambles as it was trying to understand the intensity of all the emotions coursing through his veins, from the arousal and need for you, to the formidable love his heart was barely able to contain in his chest, to the fear and confusion of the vision of you he was met with at the spirit tree and finally the deep seeded hurt at the unresolved conflicts still plaguing you both, still plaguing his dreams, feeding his insecurities.

As you were hurriedly tugging at his loincloth, trying to untie it without breaking the kiss, one emotion won by a landslide. His cock sprung free as you finally succeeded, slapping messily on your abdomen. Neteyam bent the leg that was in between yours, until it reached your core, and he felt a patch of wetness stain your cloth. You couldn’t help grinding on his leg, and the sight of you writhing underneath him, trying to get yourself off on him drove him mad. Whatever ounce of self-restraint went straight out the window, and he ripped your clothes swiftly away, plunging two digits into your wet core, twitching at your whimpering noises.

“I need you. Fuck, I need you so bad, Atan.”

You reached for your queue, begging to feel him, for some reassurance that you, what you had was alright, that despite all the mess you both made of each other, he was still him, and you were still you, forever intertwined, forever one. He looked at you, slight panic displayed all over his features, but eventually he brings his forth and the connection makes you knees wobbly and your mind fuzzy. It pains you, feeling him, feeling all the contradicting emotions taking over his soul, feelings the hurt and pain, the dread and affection, need and yearning, and trying to make sense of them all. What was on his mind? What could possibly be plaguing him to such an unnerving extent? It couldn’t all come from the past couple days, could it? You hoped your emotions would put his at ease, at least a little. Sure, you were a little upset, and somewhat worried for him, but that always paled in comparison to the ever-growing love and desire that nested deep in you, that started years ago, that will never falter.

You looked at his face, furrowed and pained, and you brought your hand up, caressing it slowly.

“Neteyam… what is wrong?”

He kissed you, forcefully, taking your jaw and holding you in one place, and you were scared of him, for him, you weren’t sure.

“Hey… stop.”

You pushed him away and he rolled over with a frustrated growl. You straddled him and lowered your body until you were face to face. “What is eating at you, Yawne (beloved)?”

He brought an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from you. You waited, knowing better than to push him. Eventually he removed his arm and you saw tears falling down the side of his face and onto the ground. Your heart broke at the sight, at the sight of your mate who was going through something you couldn’t understand, that he didn’t share with you.

“I feel like I’m losing you, like I’m going to lose you.”

The feelings of confusion and fear were perfectly clear on your face that was contorting to accommodate the emotions electrifying your being, but you tried your best to remain calm, as to not hurt him further.

“Neteyam… why would you say that? What happened at the Spirit Tree?”

You were met with silence, deep, unsettling silence, that rang more painfully in your ears than all the music that has been loudly enveloping the village for hours at this point.

“Hey, look at me. Look at me.” Eventually he did as he was told, and with blow after blow, you felt exhausted at his despairing look, that was mirroring the deep-seeded sadness in his soul, that you could feel through your still-intact bond.

You took his hands by the wrists and directed them to your body, on both sides of your abdomen.

“I’m here.”

You kissed him, softly and intensely, pouring your whole heart in it.

“I’m here.”

You took him, his whole impressive length in your hands and started pumping him, slowly, firmly, until he was moaning loudly beneath you.

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever again. Let me show you, that I am here, that I love you, that whatever this is, we will work through it, like we always do.”

You never got to do this - be in control. You never felt the need for it, you loved being his, being owned, wholly and completely, but you needed this now, he needed this now.

You continued pumping him and his look - parted lips, flushed cheeks, eyes tightly shot, ears pushed back, quick breaths and heart racing - drove you wild and the power you felt made liquid pool as you started grinding on him, looking for your own release. It felt good - too good, and sensing his worries melt away slowly only intensified it, and without being able to withstand it any longer, you got up and lined his cock to your sopping entrance and lowered yourself on him slowly, feeling every inch of him, allowing him to do the same. You both moaned in unison, and he got up, aligning your faces, looking deep into your eyes as you bottomed out, wobbly at how deep in you he was, at the maddening stretch that was almost too much to bear.

“I’m here. Do you feel this, feel me? Do you feel what you do to me, how you make me feel? I love you, I will always love you, it’s just you and me. Just you and me, forever.”

“Forever?”

You smiled and threw you head back, overwhelmed by all the sensations you were experiencing.

“Forever.”

You moaned, eyes tightly shut, hair tickling your lower back, that he grabbed and pulled on. You started moving, an agonising pace that didn’t last long as he grabbed your hips forcefully and lifted you off his dick and back on it, over and over, over and over, a ruthless back and forth that made you mewl and whimper, hysterical over how good it felt, how you knew this orgasm was going to rush over you like volcanic fire, leaving nothing in its wake but the ash of your trembling body. He knew you were close when you squeezed around him, and he increased the pace at which he was rutting upwards into you, animalistic desire overtaking his every conscious thought.

“I need you to come in me. I need to feel you in me, feel you filling me up, please.”

You were barely coherent, but he understood you amongst the moans and pleasured cries.

“Come for me, Atan. Let me feel you.”

You did just as you were told, as you always did - his words holding such power over you, and you felt your orgasm prolonging as thick spurts of his cum shot into you, filling you up and sliding down your ass. It was a holy experience, this feeling, this time with him, unlike anything else you have ever experienced, and you were happy to make out only positive emotions in his mind for now. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want this to end, and you stood like this, looking in each other’s eyes, kissing softly, filled to the brim, just like you loved to be.

You came back from your outing and left for the tent, spent and in need of respite. You left Neteyam with his family, and you were surprised to see little Tuk still up. She got on her feet when she saw you and jumped in your arms, which you were happy about, having felt a little disconnected from her recently.

“Hi, cutie, what are you still doing up?”

“I cannot sleep when everybody is away. I want to be dancing, too!”

“Oh, sweetie, you danced all night! It’s past your bedtime, you need to sleep a lot so you can get stronger. You want to be strong like your mummy and daddy, no?”

“I want to be strong like you!”

You let out a small cry at the words, a mantle of surprise engulfing you like a shroud. You needed this, you realise, needed her, needed to know you were still loved, you still had a family that would choose you, despite your many shortcomings, despite being different, despite being nothing new.

“I’m not that strong, baby. I need you to be stronger than me.”

Tuk crossed her arms around her chest in a defying motion, shaking her head furiously, a small pout gracing her beautiful features.

“No. You are strong. The strongest. You are smart, and kind and good with a bow, and a gun. You stand up to daddy even when Lo’ak and Neteyam don’t, and you’re the best ikran rider in the village!”

You laughed loudly at her unbridled praise, and found it funny how unreliable of a judge she was, but appreciative and grateful to know how she saw you, in spite of all your insecurities.

“Don’t say that in front of Neteyam!”

“So you don’t love Tsireya more than me?”

She gasped and circled your neck in a tight hug.

“Never. You’re my second mummy, you always will be.”

“That’s good to hear, baby.”

“Can you sing me to sleep?”

“Of course. Come on, scooch in.” Tuk made a temporary home in your lap, head propped in a comfortable position and legs sprawled all over her woven sleeping mat. You removed her hair out of her face and continued caressing her forehead in a calming motion, the same way your mum used to do for you when you were her age. You remembered a song from a movie you loved from back then, and you decided you needed to show it to Tuk one day, but for now, your singing would have to do.

Where the North wind meets the sea, there's a river full of memory

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound, for in this river, all is found

Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear, and in her song, all magic flows

But can you brave what you most fear, can you face what the river knows?

Come, my darling, homeward bound

When all is lost, then all is found

Gideon stood and watched as Quaritch was burning yet another village in his quest to find Jake Sully. He was sick to his stomach at the damage this was doing to these innocent people. Gideon had no problem with murder. He had no problem with intimidation, or hurting people, but at least back on Earth, it was to protect his country. It was against people who were a threat to the security of everyone who lived in it, a potential threat to his family, to his daughter. He could justify it, the atrocious acts, and it would help him sleep at night. But this, all the things he has done since coming to Pandora, no matter how badly he knew he did it to save his daughter, that he had no choice, it still haunted him, giving him nightmare after nightmare he would never outlive.

“IT’S TORUK MAKTO! HAS HE BEEN HERE?” He winced as the rest of the crew was tasing villagers, as Quaritch pulled roughly on the queue of the Olo’eyktan, that he now knew how painful and connected to the rest of his being it was. He didn’t say anything - he couldn’t. Any intervention would be a risk he couldn’t take, not when his plan would warrant him instant death, not when he was so close to seeing you, to meeting you.

Quaritch came close to him and pulled him to the side.

“This shit ain’t working.”

“No,” Gideon said. “They’re stone-walling us.”

“If we turn up the heat, he’s just gonna keep running. We got to draw him out.”

Gideon looked back from Ikran at the burning village, and felt his own self-hatred eat at him, like a parasite, like a virus that would kill him slowly, driven mad by his inaction, by the feeling is his gut that what he was doing was just as bad, if not worse. The Recoms reached the ship that has been doubling as a home for a while, while they navigated the Eastern Sea and this seemingly never-ending archipelago. Scoresby, the captain of this ship and a grade A asshole was waiting on the deck of the ship, a furious look on his face.

“I’m over it. I’ve got quotas to meet.”

“You want to hunt? Let’s hunt.”

Everyone turned, shocked at the words coming out the colonel’s mouth. Even Scoresby, that psycho, couldn’t believe his ears.

“What? Here? Not here, there’s too many villages.”

“No, no no no.” the scientist, Dr. Ian Garvin interrupted, then hated himself for it, as dread clearly filled his eyes looking at the 10 foot tall solider in front of him. Gideon felt for the man, with whom he had a little more in common than he was willing to admit. A broken man, an alcoholic who came to Pandora with dreams and good intentions, his love for the planet and the science fueling his fire, a fire which was promptly snuffed out when he realised the never-ending depths of the depravity that surrounded this whole company that he was now working for. A marine biologist who had to watch as the beings he adulated were murdered brutally in front of him for profit, and he watched, like a coward, like Gideon.

“Respectfully, sir, you do not understand the kinship bonds between the Tulkun and the Ocean Na’vi. It would be like murdering a member of their family.”

“If we start hunting here, the hostiles will come after us.”

“Exactly. One hostile in particular.”

Gideon prayed Jake Sully was smarter than to fall for this, and he prayed for whatever little remained of his soul after this whole endeavour.

You woke up the next day sandwiched between your mate, who was snug behind you, snoring lightly in your ear, leg in between yours, and Tuk, whom you were keeping close to you, and whose hands you have been holding all night. You felt content, even despite the craziness of the past couple of days, and grateful for the people you were sharing a tent with. Things finally seemed to be looking up, you thought, as your swimming improved, and your relationship with Lo’ak mended, and your insecurities about Kiri and Tuk melted away a little. You were worried about Neteyam, but you hoped he would open up about whatever was eating at him soon, and you hoped you eased his mind a little last night.

You had a pleasant family day, laughing and chatting idly by the fire, enjoying the calming sounds of the rain falling all around you and hitting the water right outside your home. It was a short-lived comfort, however, as Tonowari towered at the entrance, dark haunted look marring his features. You all quieted taking him in, and your mum and dad, as well as you and Neteyam went to check on whatever it was that made him this way.

You were barely holding in tears as you neared the dreaded sight, the dead tulkun and her calf, both of them floating aimlessly, held up by orange floating bags with the RDA logo on it. You felt yourself hanging on tighter to your mate, squeezing your arms around his abdomen and letting out quiet sobs that were drowned out by Ronal’s. You watched as she dismounted her Tsurak and approached the departed pair, climbing so she could look in its now empty eyes. You look to your left at Jake and Neytiri, who had similar expressions to yours, and reached your hand for Neytiri’s, who squeezed it, both needing the comfort and the feeling of companionship in these trying times.

Pained wails escaped Ronal’s mouth as she took in the dead calf accompanying the mother.

“Her name is Ro’a.”

“She was my spirit sister. She was a composer of songs - much revered. We would sing together. She waited many breeding cycles to have this calf. The clan was so happy for her. What is this, Tonowari?”

“WHAT IS THIS?”

“What is this?” Tonowari barked. “Why is she marked?”

You were confused, but tapped Neteyam on the shoulder to take the ilu to where the chieftain was.

“It is probably just a way to distinguish them. A cruel way, but that’s humanity for you.”

You finally reached the other side of the tulkun, and looked at what everybody was appalled at. There was big, red, blinking rod, impaled deeply in her skin. Next to it, there was writing on the underside of the fin, carved with a knife. It was red, from the dry blood that spilled as it was drawn, and scarred slightly, meaning it wasn’t fresh. There wasn’t a lot of blood, or any drippings as gravity pushed it down, so you concluded it was done after the tulkun was killed.

“Can you understand it?” Ronal said in a scathing voice, more a snarl than actual words.

“No, it’s not English.”

You looked at it, and stupor overcame you, but you tried your best to maintain your composure. Breathe… breathe… breathe.

To Jake this might mean nothing, but to you it did. It was a language you didn’t know well, but you knew enough to understand. Your mum taught you some of it when you were a baby, telling you it was the language her and your dad spoke to each other when they wanted to not be heard, when they wanted something for themselves.

“Tonight. Midnight.

10 km E of village, deserted island.

Come alone.”

“Kid, can you understand it? You’re the smartest one here.”

“No, Jake, I can’t. Sorry.”

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr

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auroraborealyss · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢𝐢.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader, corinthian x reader if you squint

⊹ summary: you reunite with an old enemy and an even older friend, the corinthian, and confront him about his betrayal to morpheus, and more importantly, to you

⊹ tags: unexpected hints of a love triangle (more like a love V since there's no third line), contains more corinthian than morpheus in this part

⊹ warnings: violence, spoiler for 1.09

⊹ word count: 3492 (an absolute menace)

⊹ previous part: part ii

⊹ up next: part iv → coming soon

⊹ now playing: run boy run by woodkid

𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚗! 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚗! 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞

The basement is cold and empty.

You shiver as you walk quietly through the hall. The years have taught you how to step lightly as if you were gliding on the marble rather than stepping.

Even though there was no logical reasoning that bound the Corinthian and you, you can still feel his presence. He was somewhere on the floor, getting closer and closer with each step you take even though your not working purposefully in a directions. You can feel him waiting for you to find him. To come to him — ironic, considering it’s been him chasing you all this time.

You don’t know what will happen when you see each other again. Will he hurt you? Try to claim the very bounty he set on your head? Has he finally gotten tired of your cat-and-mouse game?

Your thoughts are put to a pause when Jed Walker appears ahead, just a few doors from where you’re standing. You whisper his name but it goes unheard as he pushes open a set of doors and steps through, disappearing from your view. You still don’t know what the Corinthian could want with two young mortals, but given his track record, you don’t trust him with them. If saving them means your game has to continue, then very well.

“Jed!” you whisper louder. You hurry after the boy, slipping through the doors just before they close and nearly bumping into him.

The room isn’t empty. In fact, there are four—technically, three—other people in the room. A dead mortal, two killers, and in the centre of it all, the Corinthian himself.

The Corinthian smiles at you.

You push Jed behind you. He grips onto the back of your shirt, trembling in fear as you and him both look at the Corinthian and the man being stabbed to death behind him.

Even with those dark shades on, you know the Corinthian is looking at you. You can feel his stare burning into you, taking in every inch of you greedily. It has been a century since he last saw you, after all. An entire century since he stopped you from entering the basement of Rodrick Burgess and freeing your husband and his maker, and instead put a bounty on your head.

“Hello, my lady,” the Corinthian says, his honey-like drawl drawing shivers from you. He takes a step towards you, and you take three back. “I’ve missed you.”

He hasn’t changed much since the last time you saw him—nearly a hundred years ago. He still insists on indulging his materialistic side—something he got from Morpheus’ tendency to spoil you, probably—by wearing high-end suits. His golden hair is still the same length, though he no longer wears his hat. And he still wears those damn shades that covers his eyes—eyes that Morpheus spent days crafting specially for him.

You shove Jed further back, and the boy thankfully takes the hint and bolts. You stay.

“Who’s she?” one of the killers, a woman with straight hair, asks.

“She’s mine,” the Corinthian says dismissively. “Just continue with him.”

The woman looks at you before shrugging. She raises her hand to resume stabbing the man.

“Both of you, stop,” you command, and the two behind him immediately stop. Not just their arm, but every muscle in their body has frozen in compliance with your order. Even their hearts have frozen, and though you’re sure they’re feeling terrified, their bodies can’t show it because of what you’ve done to them with a single spoken word.

“All these years, and you still can’t control it, can you?” the Corinthian says. Though he sounds slightly disappointed, he keeps his tone light, as if remarking that it was raining when it should have been sunny. The casualness in his voice enrages you.

He’d always been a nightmare, but the last time you saw him, he had also been your friend. Not the maker-and-created relationship he has with Morpheus, but a friend. You hadn’t been surprised he’d want to keep Morpheus trapped and stop you, but you hadn’t expected for him to put that bounty on your head and reveal Morpheus’ and your’s, secret. To Morpheus, it was an act of defiance. To you, it was an act of betrayal.

“Corinthian."

His features softens slightly at the name you chose and gave to him. “My lady.”

“What have you done?”

“I inspired people, just like you said I would be able to.”

You flinch, as he’s spat your words back at you verbatim. You and him had been walking through the Dreaming once, your arm linked around his. It had been after your wedding to Morpheus but before the power transference ceremony. The Corinthian had asked what your intention was for him, as while it had been Morpheus who crafted him for you, you had decided his purpose. Even Morpheus had been surprised that you would choose to craft a nightmare rather than a dream, but you defended the Corinthian by saying nightmares had just as much power influencing a person and their decisions as much as dreams did.

“Confronting one’s fears challenges a person, but when they emerge, they come out stronger and firmer in their beliefs,” you had told him. “That’s what I want you to be. To be a mirror for humanity’s darkest self so they would choose to be better.”

He had smiled down at you in response, and dipped his head in a small bow. You tightened your grip on him as you resumed your walk, the sun warm down on both of you—so different from the cold that filled the air between the two of you now.

“I wanted you to inspire others to be good, Corinthian. Not…this.”

“I’m letting them be their true selves.”

“You’ve taught them to be selfish and cruel.”

He tilts his head before taking a step forward. You take another three back until you hit the door. But you don’t run. Not yet.

“Are you disappointed in me, my lady?” he asks lowly.

You toss your nametag to his feet in response. Of all his atrocities to you, that was the worst. “You made me that,” you spit out. Lady of Whispers. The name he gave you. He was the one who blew on the flames and built your reputation when he knew that you never meant to hurt anyone. It was his fault that people feared you, when you had been the complete opposite in the Dreaming.

“I gave you a name of your own,” he says through gritted teeth. “Something for people to know you by other than being someone’s wife.”

There is truth behind his words. People still knew you as Lady of the Dreaming, but now they feared you for you, and not because of Morpheus solely.

The two killers behind him fall to the ground, dead. Death was always the only one able to put a stop to your powers.

The Corinthian bends down to pick you your name. As he does, you seize his distracted nature and run, going after Jed wherever he is. As the doors swing shut behind you, you hear the Corinthian’s throaty chuckle, the sound raising bumps all over your arms.

You sprint up the stairs rather than wait for the elevator.

Floor after floor, you search the halls, hissing out Jed’s name. By the fifth floor, you’re breathing heavily. By the eight, there’s a sharp cramp in your side. On the tenth, you’re forced to stop against a wall to catch your breath. As you will the fire in your lungs to go away, you remember the key in your back pocket. The room reserved for you is on this floor. It’s a completely irrelevant point, but you can’t help but wonder what you would find if you entered that room: one bed or two.

A girl walks past you, her head tilted upwards to the room numbers. You stare after her in surprise, recognizing her from the picture you’re carrying.

“Rose Walker?” you ask.

She turns to you. She blinks, and you see the recognition flare in her eyes. “I know you, don’t I?” she says thoughtfully. “I think I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

That wasn’t possible. Mortals already rarely remembered the full extent of their dreams. They rarely remembered Morpheus being by their side as they went through the Dreaming, you even more, talking to them and guiding them through. The most they remembered was the warmth of your presence.

“Y/N,” she says. “You’re Dream’s wife.”

You stop. “How do you know who I am?”

“He told me I’d know who you were.”

“My husband?” You step closer. “He’s spoken with you? Is he here? Is he alright? What did he say?”

“He told me to tell you something.”

“What is it?” you ask insistently, the desperation clear in your voice. Was it an explanation for why he isn’t here? Anger or hurt? Understanding?

“He told me to tell you that I’m a vortex,” Rose says.

You freeze and stare at Rose. It takes a few seconds for the pieces to click—why your husband would want her to tell you that apart from everything else. But when it does click, your shoulders relax and you smile at her. Of course he’d have her tell you that. You never would have figured it out on your own.

“Why would he tell me to tell you that?” Rose asks. “Does it mean something special to you?”

Of course you pity her for what has to be done, but you’re also relieved that you’re almost done. But before you can give her an answer—a partial truth to not be so cruel—someone calls her name.

You both look down the hall and see Jed Walker standing there. Rose breaks into a smile, forgetting you, and hugs Jed tightly. You recognize the man behind Jed, Fun Land, who’s too busy looking at him like prey. He moves forward and starts to tug Jed from Rose, who screams at him and you for help.

You rush forwards and slam your elbow down on Fun Land’s neck, hitting a nerve that sends him crumpling to his knees.

“Run, Rose!” you bark at her, and though her eyes don’t turn gold, she does as you command anyway.The three of you sprint down the hallway, only to be forced to a stop as you reach a locked green door. You try to kick it down, but the lock is thick and made of metal. As Rose and Jed begin to knock on it desperately, shouting for help, you think about who you’d call for help—Morpheus. But he isn’t here. At least, not yet. And you couldn’t let someone like Fun Land appease the appetite that the Corinthian had inspired in him.

“Cover his ears,” you command Rose. As Fun Land reaches you, you shove the kids behind you, using your body as a protective shield.

“Stop,” you command. Gold fills his eyes, swirling in his irises like sand. Fun Land halts a few step from you, standing completely still and waiting for more instruction. “See yourself for who you really are.”

Immediately, he flinches and recoils into himself. He starts to whimper and seek forgiveness from Jed and Rose and every other unfortunate child he’d collected that would not and should not ever be given to him.

“What are you doing to him?” Rose whispers.

“Exactly what I said,” you say coldly. If the Corinthian inspired them to be who they really are, then let them see just that. He would see the monster he is.

Fun Land’s whimpers begin to turn into screams as he slaps his hands over his eyes to hide the world. Because that isn’t enough, he digs his fingers into them, the squelch as he hits his eyeballs echoing in the hall despite Rose’s horrified gasp and Jed’s cries. You only continue to stare, true, merciless and just, just as the Lady of Dreaming should be.

Fun Land’s cries are cut off when he suddenly drops dead. His body falls to the floor, a dagger protruding from the back of his head. Standing behind where he one stood, is the Corinthian.

“What a waste of a snack,” he says with a tut of his tongue. He licks his lips. “But my lady. We haven’t finished our conversation. Shall we?”

The Corinthian tosses your nametag to you. Out of instinct, you catch it.

“I did not make you this way,” the Corinthian says. “Dream did. If there’s anyone to blame for your talent, your gift, it’s him. He made you this way, just as he made me this way.” He takes a step towards you. “This is who we are, and if you would just stop running for one second and look in the mirror and see how much better you are in this form—with your powers and without him—you would be a lot happier.”

“With you?”

The Corinthian looks taken aback. “What?”

“Do you think I would be happier with you than with my husband?”

If Morpheus made him, then perhaps he had put his affection for you in the Corinthian as well. Perhaps that was why the Cortinthian insisted the bounty be for you to be taken alive, and why you had never been able to use your powers to stop him. You’ve always known those emotions were there, even if it went unsaid by you or him. Even before Morpheus’ capture, the Corinthian’s affection for you had always been soft, gentle. Lingering touches on your arm, laughing a little too loud at your jokes, his gaze on you longer than a friend’s should. But you always ignored it, as you never saw him in the way you saw your husband. You loved the part of him that was Morpheus,, but you could not love him completely. You could never.

“I did them for you,” the Corinthian insists. “Inspired them for you. They worship you, just as everyone should. Dream never let the others see your beauty and talent, but I did. I let them see you as you really were and they adored you. Because of me, you are loved.”

His words and the veneration in his tone—something you wish he was faking but can tell is genuine—struck you into silence. He’s standing before you now, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His movement is gentle. A caress.

“My lady,” he says quietly, his voice deep and thick with emotion. “I have missed you.”

Was it possible that he was right? That he loved you in a way Morpheus loved you differently? In a way you should be loved? Whereas Morpheus hid you from the world to protect you, the Corinthian showed you to the world and gave the world a reason to fear you—your own protection. Was he right?

He’s about to brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb when you grab his wrist tightly; painfully. A stark contrast against his touch.

Through his shades, your eyes meet. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Though you don’t see his eyes, you know they fill gold as the effects of your powers take control. The Corinthian yanks his hand back like you were the surface of a hot stove. He tries to slap you, but his hand stops inches from your cheek and he cries out in pain as his other hand grabs his wrist and pulls it away forcefully. He stares at his hand in repulsion, then up at you in anger, and just like that you know that whatever emotions he has for you is gone. The Corinthian had rebelled against Morpheus so he would not be under his maker’s will, and now you had just forced him under yours.

His lips curl into a nasty smile. He directs his attention to Rose, who’s been watching with fearful eyes this whole time.

“You don’t think she’s going to protect you, now do you, Rose Walker?” the Corinthian says, his tone sickly sweet and charming. “Do you know who she is?”

“Dream’s wife,” Rose says hesitantly.

“Oh, she’s so much more than that. She’s one of his tools.”

“His tools?”

“Dream is known for three of his tools: his pouch of sand, his helm, and his ruby. But what’s lesser known is his fourth tool: his wife. While the first three were crafted, his fourth was given to a mortal that he fell in love with.”

“Enough,” you snap, but the Corinthian doesn’t listen.

“The ceremony was beautiful. A slice from his palm to draw blood, which he placed on top of hers so that his blood may enter her veins. In his blood was his power. When the blood had dried, it was done. She had been remade into one of his tools, and like his other tools, she has powers. Did you see what she did to Fun Land?”

“She told him to stop,” Rose says slowly. You can hear her piecing it together, and as you turn to her, you see the growing fear and apprehension in her eyes. “You told me to cover Jed’s ears…it’s because you didn’t want him to hear what you would say. Your order. Is that your power? You can tell people what to do?”

“The proper term is she inspires,” the Corinthian said.

You aren’t blind. You’ve seen the slow, small steps he’s taken to Rose, as if he’s offering her his protection. And you can see how Rose has been leaning away from you and towards him too. He’s always been good with words. That he got from you.

“Dream stored inspiration in her,” he says. “The ceremony turned her into the physical manifestation of inspiration; of the aspect of our thoughts and dreams that incline us to do something.”

Rose looks at you, perhaps waiting for you to say he was lying or there was more to the truth, but you don’t say anything. You can’t.

“Dream’s coming to kill you, Rose Walker,” the Corinthian whispers in her ear.

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re the vortex.” He turns to you. “And as Dream’s tool and his wife, she’s going to kill you too if she can.”

There’s betrayal in her eyes towards you as she tugs Jed closer to her. And fear. That’s what’s in her eyes. That’s how everyone’s looked at you in the past century.

“Is he telling the truth?” she asks. “You’re both going to kill me?”

“You have to die, Rose,” you say, void of emotion. “For everyone. For your brother’s safety. You are the vortex.”

“Is that why he had me tell you that I was one? So you could finish the job if he couldn’t?”

Perhaps it was one of the reasons he told her that, a sign that he still had trust in you. But you knew the main reason he had her tell you that was to reassure you that he still loved you and was coming for you. As the vortex, Morpheus had to come for her. His message—the unspoken words behind it—was to tell you to stay close to Rose Walker so that he could find you.

In other words, he was asking you to wait for him.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” you say softly. Behind your back, you reach for the hilt of your dagger. Morpheus will find another way to get to you. But he won’t be able to do that if the Corinthian has Rose.

But before you can grab onto it, the Corinthian moves. He’s a blur of speed and strength, and you’re soon slammed against the wall with a syringe sticking out of your neck. You gasp and dig your nails into his wrist, hard enough to draw blood, but it’s too late. When he pulls the syringe out, it’s empty. The liquid burns through your veins and dulls everything immediately, and you go slump against his body as he brushes your hair out of your face.

“He’ll come for me,” you mumble.

“Oh, I’m counting on it, sweet thing,” the Corinthian murmurs. He grips your chin with his thumb and points and points your face towards him. “What do you think the reward for the bounty is?”

Your eyes widen in horror. The Corinthian smiles and nods.

“Dream, your husband who’d do anything to get you back. Well. Let’s see just how much he means that, shall we? When you get home, why don’t you tell your husband that I’m waiting for him?”

You try to push away from him, but you’re too weak. Soon, you can’t feel your limbs. Then, you begin to drift. For the first time in a long time, you’re falling asleep and entering the Dreaming. But before you do, you feel the Corinthian press his lips against your forehead. His words are the last you hear.

“I’m sorry, my lady.”

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ…

Morpheus walks slowly towards the Corinthian, the weight of his footsteps and anger to be felt by all as the world tremors. Across the waking world, dreamers encounter nightmares that haven’t been seen since the Morpheus was first captured. They stir and cry out in their sleep, unable to wake and escape the monsters. Some wake up and find that the monsters have followed them into the waking world.

They all scream.

But in the hotel, where the cult of serial killers are asleep in their seats, it is only the King of Dreams and Nightmares and the Corinthian.

“Where is she?” Morpheus asks eerily calm. His voice is deep and dangerous; wrath being barely restrained from being unleashed on the Corinthian.

The Corinthian smiles. “You can feel her, can’t you? Feel her strength? Or shall I say, her strength diminishing?”

“What have you done, Corinthian?”

“I want to kill you, Dream. And what easier way to kill you, than to kill your wife.”

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ…

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀? 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝗂'𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌??? 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽??? 𝗐𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇.

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗒. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝗅𝗈𝗐-𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖼) 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾'𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍!

𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗋, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖻𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵!

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927, @hueanhdang, @queen-taryn, @cyanide-mustard, @azrielloveselain, @sherazyjade

𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @justviktormlolm, @amirahroronoa, @sunna-fangirls, @mrs-captainsteverogers, @absbdbshhs, @urbanbts, @theamuz, @ac-procrastinator-13, @thegreatestsandwich, @julegrav009-blog, @harrypotter55, @blossomedfloweroflove, @lestaikkeullsokka, @thetrashypanda423, @ponyboys-sunsets, @izzicle, @dilfsandtherapy, @mischiefmanaged71, @grippleback-galaxy, @cynic-spirit, @thecrazytealady, @violet-19999, @junobutbored, @avanisbored, @redskull199987, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @ladymoon666, @celestialceremonials, @mm2305, @ttae-yong, @thegreatestsandwich, @notabotiswear, @boofy1998, @crimsonsabbath, @megumimind, @itsnanabun, @spygrrl99, @regulusblacksimpsblog, @maverey, @storm4433, @writerinlearning, @lokigirlszendaya, @thesadvampire, @thestarsanctuary, @floreoo, @pinkpunkdynamite, @jesllianaquilesrolon, @aegeanblues, @anjimimimoo, @imaginativefanatic, @book-place, @littlemoistcarrot, @lorosette, @wondermia69, @commanderfreethatdust, @flowerpersephone, @carrietrekkie, @mividaesmeh,

@tea-effect, @lex-the-flex, @dreamamubarak, @witchxlove, @mxtokko

𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎!

#the fourth tool #the sandman imagine #morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #dream imagine #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman fanfiction #dream fanfiction #sandman imagine #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #sandman angst #corinthian imagine #corinthian x reader #corinthian angst

623 notes · View notes

notealotgoingon · 4 months

Text

2023 Bullet Journal Cover & Lists

- movies - books - physical music stickers

(typed list below cut)

Movies

X (2022) ★★★★★ 1/9

Pearl (2022) ★★★★★ 1/10

Jason X (2001) ★★★ 1/17

X (2022) ★★★★★ 1/26

Pearl (2022) ★★★★★ 2/11

Rosemary's Baby (1968) ★★★★★ 2/11

Harley Quinn: A Very Problematic Valentine's Day Special (2023) ★★★★★ 2/12

Skinamarink (2022) ★★★★ 3/8

Re-Animator (1985) ★★★★ 3/12

Ring (1998) ★★★★★ 3/12

Ju-On: The Grudge (2002) ★★★★ 3/12

I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997) ★★★★ 4/2

Scary Movie (2000) ★★★ 4/3

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023) ★★★★★ 4/5

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) ★★★★★ 4/18

Scary Movie 2 (2001) ★★★ 5/3

Scary Movie 3 (2003) ★★ 5/4

The Green Knight (2021) ★★★★★ 5/20

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022) ★★★★ 5/21

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (2023) ★★ 6/6

Evil Dead Rise (2023) ★★★★1/2 6/27

Nimona (2023) ★★★★ 7/2

Barbarian (2022) ★★★★ 7/6

Malignant (2021) ★★★★ 7/7

Barbie (2023) ★★★★★ 7/23

Scream VI (2023) ★★★1/2 8/1

Saw (2004) ★★★★ 8/1

Frozen (2010) ★★ 8/2

Resident Evil: Death Island (2023) ★★★★ 8/21

Studio 666 (2022) ★★★★ 9/4

The Exorcist (1973) ★★★★1/2 9/4

Saw II (2005) ★★★★ 9/9

Saw III (2006) ★★★1/2 9/9

Saw IV (2007) ★★★1/2 9/9

Saw V (2008) ★★★ 9/9

Saw VI (2009) ★★★ 9/9

Saw 3D (2010) ★★ 9/9

Jigsaw (2017) ★★★ 9/10

Miss Americana (2020) ★★★★ 9/10

Spiral: From the Book of Saw (2021) ★★1/2 9/17

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) ★★★★1/2 9/24

Saw (2004) ★★★★1/2 9/25

Saw II (2005) ★★★★1/2 9/26

Dracula (1931) ★★★★ 10/1

Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984) ★★★1/2 10/1

Friday the 13th: A New Beginning (1985) ★★★★ 10/1\

House of 1000 Corpses (2003) ★★★★ 10/8

Friday the 13th (1980) ★★★★1/2 10/13

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (2023) ★★★★★ 10/19

Saw VI (2009) ★★★1/2 10/28

Saw 3D (2010) ★1/2 10/29

Saw X (2023) ★★★★1/2 11/6

Saw IV (2007) ★★★1/2 11/20

Saw X (2023) ★★★★1/2 11/20

Terrifier (2016) ★★★1/2 12/4

Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth (1992) ★★ 12/4

Saw V (2008) ★★★1/2 12/4

Terrifier 2 (2022) ★★★1/2 12/11

The Green Knight (2021) ★★★★★ 12/18

Sonic Christmas Blast(1996) ★★1/2 12/22

Black Christmas (1974) ★★★★★ 12/23

Black Christmas (2006) ★★★1/2 12/24

Saltburn (2023) ★★★★ 12/29

Taylor Swift: Reputation Stadium Tour (2018) ★★★★★ 12/30

Books

The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor Lavalle 1/2

The Witcher: The Last Wish by Andrzej Sakowski 1/12

We Can Never Leave This Place by Eric Larocca 1/14

Causes and Cures in the Classroom by Margaret Searle 1/29

Vox Machina: Kith & Kin by Marieke Nijkamp 2/1

Black is the Body by Emily Bernard 2/4

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas 2/18

The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green 2/19

Black Klansman by Ron Stallworth 2/26

The Dark Tower V: Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King 3/7

Ring by Koji Suzuki 4/14

What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher 4/14

In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez 5/8

Circe by Madeline Miller 5/19

When the Emperor Was Divine by Julie Otsuka 5/30

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe 6/1

The Hellbound Heart by Clive Barker 6/25

The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson 6/28

The Lesbian Classics Get Me Off by Chuck Tingle 6/28

Icebreaker by Hannah Grace 7/5

Teacher of the Yearby M.A. Wardell 7/7

The Colorado Kid by Stephen King 7/17

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone 7/31

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle 8/4

The Writing Revolution by Judith C. Hochman & Natalie Wexler 8/10

You Can Go Your Own Way by Eric Smith 8/20

Phasma by Delilah S. Dawson 9/12

Small Spaces by Katherine Arden 9/27

Reforged by Seth Haddon 10/8

Fifty Feet Down by Sophie Tanen 10/23

The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty 11/22

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett 12/2

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade 12/7

Wildfire by Hannah Grace 12/5

Interview With the Vampire by Anne Rice 12/12

Tender is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica 12/19

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy by Becky Chambers 12/20

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo 12/28

Stowaway and Silent Song by Vera Valentine 12/29

Physical Music Media:

(this isn't all of the records/CDs I've gotten or listened to this year, but I figured I'd decipher the stickers I put in the book; these are all of the promo stickers on the outside of the plastic wrapping on the releases)

Beat the Champ - the Mountain Goats

Paradise - Lana del Ray

Red (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

What's it Like? - Sure Sure

Did You Know There's A Tunnel Under Ocean Boulevard? - Lana del Ray

Stick Season - Noah Kahan

The Rest - boygenius

Midnights (Late Night Edition) - Taylor Swift

Raving Ghost - Olivia Jean

The Record - boygenius

Speak Now (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

Dark in Here - the Mountain Goats

Bangerz (10th Anniversary Edition) - Miley Cyrus

God Games - the Kills

1989 (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

#mine #studyblr #notes #aesthetic #bujo #bullet journal #bujolife #bujo aesthetic #bujoinspo #bujoblr #bujo list #2023 reap #booklr #books #film

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meteorstricken · 7 months

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Unsolved Mysteries of the Realm

This post details several matters in FFXVI that remained unsolved or obscure, and therefore could play into DLC that does not simply add details to the past, but carries the story forward. This is *not* meant to serve in any way as a critique of so-called "missed opportunities"--just an exercise in curiosity and anticipation. Feel free to reblog with anything I might have missed, but please keep it positive.

And of course, be mindful of the load of spoilers below the cut if you haven't made it through the story.

>Behold, Leviathan the Lost! Or rather, this seems to be the fandom consensus about what the odd figure off the coast of Sanbreque is supposed to be. The supposed Eikon of Water appears as though frozen in time, and is notably named similarly to Titan Lost--the form Kupka took as a giant tentacled mountain. I think it's important to remember what exactly Eikons are, so I've included the late-game lore entry here. My theory is that, since Ultima is the only one we truly see exercise an extensive amount of space/time magic, they might have been responsible for freezing Leviathan, and that their passing might release it from that hold, making it a problem. That said--this might serve as a last ditch preservation mechanism for Ultima themselves.

>Are we truly done with Mothercrystals? Based on the 8 elements and 8 Mothercrystals known in game, the answer would seem to be yes, but if you speak with Jill when she's seated at the Tub and Crown prior to heading for Origin, she wonders if there could indeed be more. If there are more, then we need to start talking about unaspected magic such as Flare and Ultima (the spell). If they're not a subset of Dark aspected magic, space/ time/ gravity magic is another set that might prove worthy of their own Mothercrystal. Holy is another one, if it's not counted as part of Light aspected magic. Again, it should be noted that if these are magic types used most heavily--or in some cases, exclusively--by Ultima themselves. If there are hidden Mothers out there, he/ they are not likely as finished as advertised, and the existing lore does seem to suggest he's fond of having quite a number of failsafes to fall back on.

>Reverie II, or Ultima's Rosarian Penthouse. It has no formal name, but this towering structure appears to be a conspicuous twin to Reverie in Waloed, and possibly in better external shape besides. Early on in the game, on the way to Phoenix Gate, Clive questions what appears to be the entrance, found in a Blighted area called The Dim. Later on, if you hang out around this door, Torgal becomes agitated and begins to growl. I tested just hanging out in other random places in Storm with Torgal, and it did not produce quite the same effect. Torgal really, really does not like this door. However, as it stands, we never get to take a peek inside--a prime opportunity for a DLC environment. What horrors and wonders might lurk inside?

>"True Freedom? Or something else entirely...? Once Origin has appeared, if you talk to the defected Waloeder Intelligencer referred to simply as a "Suspicious Character", he says what's depicted below. (He's confirmed to be an Intelligencer if you talk to the Gaoler at the right point early in the game, while still working out of Cid's Hideaway.) This guy keeps on top of everything going on, tends to joke or comment rather darkly on it, and admits at one point that old habits die hard--that in essence, he's been continuing to spy on you for his own entertainment. By this late point in the game, it's well understood that Waloed has been under Ultima's clandestine control for many years, so it's rather glaring that this particular character would say something like this. What does he know? What does await after Origin? I personally am of the opinion that Clive made a huge mistake in absorbing Ultima like he would any other Eikon, and that he may in fact turn out to be possessed. That would certainly rank as "something else entirely", and make for quite the compelling trip as far as a DLC plot goes. Clive is always saving everyone else--mayhap it's time he needs someone to save him from 'himself'.

On a related note, I think it's significant that Clive is shown at the end of the game to have developed the Crystal's Curse in spite of supposedly having eradicated Ultima's legacy. This may be a more complicated matter than he expected, as one might even argue that humanity itself is part of Ultima's legacy. Potential future DLC may involve cleaning up/ managing the complications of Clive having used a power he didn't fully comprehend.

>What's Out There? A great deal of factors influencing Valisthea occur outside the Twins' shores. Context clues from early conversations with Harpocrates suggest a land not as steeped in magic, but at the same time, later lore on the Children of Dzemekys reveals that the outer continent plays host to the Circle of Malius. (Ultima's faithful.) During the side quest "Trading Places II", when Eloise is trying to buy and free Bearers from the Silverpeak Consortium, she is outbid by a trader from the outer continent. One of the Consortium members notes that continentals are notorious for treating Bearers very well in comparison to Valisthea. This becomes even more interesting in light of some additional detail shared online from the FFXVI artbook, which suggests that Ultima's intended world order ranks Bearers as superior to normal humans--meaning a Circle of Malius adherent from the outer continent would want them treated considerably better. (Which in turn suggests that the persecution of Bearers is 100% mankind's home-brewed BS, despite how badly it transpires in Waloed.) But if the more distant Circle of Malius adherents have been buying up Bearers, what exactly is their end game? What plots and machinations could there be cooking across the sea, and might DLC delve into them?

#ffxvi #ff16 #ffxvi spoilers #ffxvi dlc speculation #Clive Rosfield #Jill Warrick #FFXVI Ultima #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16

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sorcerersseestars · 2 years

Text

his eyes, your ears [part iii]

part i part ii part iii part iv

summary: Gojo is beyond bitter about the higher-ups’ constant indifference to the well-being of sorcerers. A storm is brewing, but what will become of it?

They say history repeats itself. Shoko hopes it won’t. The past is the past – right?

pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn! reader

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

warnings: mentions of injuries, jjk spoilers, slight tsundere gojo?, swearing ig, lots of crying, running away from reality, stupid decisions

word count: 3.5k

a/n: it’s my personal belief that Gojo is actually extremely private about his true feelings about anything, especially ones involving people/relationships – hence the warning lol

You’re completely dead to the world: brain numbed, pain dulled, limbs frozen. Two sorcerers are hovering over your body, but you aren’t aware of their presence, not even when the weird one with the blindfold pokes your cheek.

“You really shouldn’t immobilize a patient before explaining what you’re doing,” Gojo frowns, still indenting your skin with light pokes. “That’s not HIPPA-friendly.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t have shut up otherwise, and you know it. It’s better this way,” Shoko tuts, waving a finger at him disapprovingly. “They need lots of fluids. They’re very dehydrated.”

Gojo sighs, stalling his poking to study your peaceful expression. “Figures. They were missing for over 12 hours.”

A bitter chuckle bubbles out of him. “It was painfully obvious they were in trouble, but the higher-ups wouldn’t tell me anything. They told me nothing, Shoko. They didn’t care.”

“Are you surprised?” She eyes him. “They’re willing to execute kids, Satoru. This is hardly surprising.”

“You think they’d care more when two powerful special grades are roaming around as they please,” Gojo scoffs. “They forced them to track the ones I ran into weeks ago.”

Shoko’s eyes widen at the news. “What?”

“Why wouldn’t they just order me to immediately exorcise the curses? It’s too dangerous to just let them exist,” Gojo continues, voice raising in volume as he becomes more agitated. “Whatever they’re after, it’s not worth it.”

Shoko snorts. “They’ll sacrifice anyone for their agenda. And when you have the world’s best tracker at your disposal…”

Gojo swallows the words that threaten to expose you: and the Jujutsu world’s best spy.

“I can’t just sit idly while they torture us all like this!” Gojo cries, barely contained frustration leaking through. “I’ve had enough of it, Shoko. Something needs to change, it all needs to change. The system the higher-ups uphold is failing us.”

The hand that is plastering gauze to your leg pauses mid-stroke. There’s a flicker of emotion in her eyes makes Gojo uneasy. Shoko’s eyes are always cold, steely, even void of emotion – so why does he see fear resonating in her dark eyes?

Her eyes quickly return to their normal state – annoyed yet unbothered, holding that trademark aloofness she shows even to her closest friends. (They weren’t always like that, though. It all changed after–)

Shoko, although visibly unbothered, withdraws herself. Under his blindfold, Gojo’s eyes track her padding over from your side to her medical cart. She grabs more gauze – presumably for your other singed limb – but it is just an excuse to distance herself from him.

Gojo’s lips turn down at the realization. What is she scared of?

When Shoko returns to wrap your arm, Gojo sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Shoko sits rigidly, almost as if she were hesitant about having unpracticed hands, but Gojo knows she is skilled in her profession. She couldn’t possibly be nervous about patching you up – this is only confirming that his presence is making her uneasy.

Gojo rises, stepping away to the foot of your bed, then leans casually against the frame. He tries to embody nonchalance even though he knows he must appear at least somewhat on edge.

An echo of the past sounds through his mind. Words that he has agonized over, words that still wake him up in a cold sweat at night, remind him of shared sins: If I could become you, wouldn’t my impossible ideal become possible?

He’s the strongest. He could do anything, even destroy the world if he wanted. He could.

“Shoko,” He says quietly. “I’m not...it won’t be like before. I know when to stop. My ideals...I hate self-righteous stuff, but I won’t do that to you. Or to them. I won’t put either of you through that again.”

Shoko closes her eyes, head bobbing in a subtle nod, and breathes out slowly. Without words, she resumes her work. The sounds of tape crinkling and cotton ripping fill the silence.

When Shoko finally speaks again, her tone is typical: bossy and blunt. Gojo holds back a smile at her obvious maternal instinct over you.

“Don’t do anything drastic,” Shoko warns. “Who will that affect? You may be untouchable, but nobody else is.”

His arms fan out behind his head as he paces back and forth in front of your bed. His eyes land on your still form as he considers Shoko’s words.

“I know you want to punish the higher-ups for putting them in this situation, but anything you do will lead back to them.”

“I know that,” Gojo sucks his teeth. “But I can’t just let it happen again. If I don’t do anything, it will. You know it will.”

Shoko bites her lip, then sighs deeply. “Just be careful. I won’t forgive you if something happens to them.”

“It won’t,” He breathes. “I won’t let it.”

A cackle echoes through the room. Gojo stares at Shoko incredulously.

“What?” He asks defensively, almost offended by her reaction.

Shoko wrinkles her nose. “You’re so whipped for them.”

Gojo immediately presses a hand over his reddening face. “What are you talking about, I’m not–”

Shoko interrupts him, “Yes you are. Why don’t you just tell them?”

Gojo pauses, then sighs out, “It’s not that simple.”

Silence blankets the room; even the sounds of Shoko patching you up have halted. A sort of invisible pressure washes over Gojo – he feels two beams trained into the back of his head. A thin sheen of sweat appears on his palms as the sensation only heightens.

When he slowly turns around, he is faced with hard, unamused eyes. She stares at him intently.

Her voice is firm and unwavering when she speaks, “In this world, you can’t afford to wait. I learned that the hard way. You saw it firsthand.”

Gojo’s expression is pained. “Shoko, I-”

“No. Listen,” She says sharply. “I’m lucky. I could move on with my life. I met Uta. But...”

She sighs deeply, fingers steepling the bridge of her nose. “I still regret it. A part of my heart died that day. I loved him, I did, but I did nothing. That part of my heart won’t ever go away. I can’t escape it now. How can I let go of something I never admitted to him?”

Gojo is silent, gaze downcast. His heart is heavy.

“You are both incredible sorcerers, I’ll admit it,” Her gaze drifts to your injured form. “But that doesn’t mean things can’t happen.”

“Please don’t let the same happen,” Shoko whispers. “For...for both of your sakes.”

Gojo turns his head back to Shoko sharply. Her enigmatic words swirl in his head, making him dizzy. For both of our sakes?

“Now go away. They need to rest for a while.”

Gojo opens his mouth to protest, but Shoko beats him to it.

“I won’t have any more moping around here. Just come back in a few hours, they’ll be asleep for a while more anyway,” She says, and when he still looks unsure she adds, “I’ll watch over them the whole time, don’t worry.”

Gojo’s lip curls into a scowl, but he hears her out.

“If you want to do them a favor, make sure Yaga stays away from here. If he finds out, they’re sure to be interrogated for a long while, and I’ve found that really disturbs the recovery process. You can do that for them, yeah?”

“Yeah,” He breathes. “Of course.”

He hesitates, hovering over your form, before gently pressing his lips to your forehead. Before Shoko can tease him again, his long legs have hastily carried him to the hallway outside of the infirmary.

Shoko blinks hard, staring at the door that is still swinging from the force of his exit. She wonders if she just hallucinated, or if Gojo actually showed affection in front of her.

She huffs out a half-irritated, half-relieved sigh. “Thank god he left. Finally. Can’t even work in peace when he’s around.”

She turns back to you, observing the gentle rise and fall of your chest. She chuckles under her breath, “He’s so easy to manipulate when it comes to you. Thanks for that, cutie. Rest up.”

“Finally awake, sleepyhead?” He smiles. At your confused expression, he adds, “It’s well past noon, sweets.”

You try to form words, but only a grunt passes your lips. Strange.

That’s when you are aware that your head is fuzzy, thoughts constantly bleeding into each other. You feel good though — too good. Unnaturally good.

You feel good, that is, until you notice the tube attached to the needle implanted in your arm. You try to shake it off, but only after that doesn’t work do you realize it’s not going to budge without a little elbow grease. That’s when your clumsy hands stumble with the tape and tube as you attempt to rip it out.

“What are you doing? Hey, hey, don’t take that out,” He rushes over to your side, trapping your squirming hands under his. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but that has to stay in, alright?”

“No,” You groan out, words finally flowing. “Not alright. I want to take it out.”

“Soon,” He says, his face crinkling sympathetically. “She took the other ones out earlier. Must not be too long until you won’t need the IV anymore, too.”

“Noooo,” You pout. “Now.”

Gojo chuckles. “Shoko put you on some shit, huh?”

“Feels good,” Is what escapes your lips, even though a complaint is pinging in your brain. “Feels like I’m floating.”

“Maybe I should ask her for some too, huh?” He raises his eyebrows playfully at you. “Sounds like fun.”

You lay unmoving, only able to blink at his response. Fun? Are you having fun?

Even though you can’t process your thoughts, they still zoom by your brain — the forest blurring past you as you escaped, the fear that gripped you as you chanced glances behind you, whispers from the curses that draw shivers down your spine, memories of the pain from their assault.

“Fun? I don’t know,” You frown, tears already beading on your lash line. “Can’t think, but I’m scared.”

“Shit, sorry, that’s not what I–Look at me,” He whispers, waiting a moment until your eyes are on him before speaking again. “It’s safe here. You’re safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You feel warmth encapsulating your hand – both of his envelope yours entirely. You smile when you realize yours is nowhere in sight; his are so large, they consume yours whole.

“Okay,” You accept easily, settling back until the covers. “Cover me while I sleep?”

A puff of air leaves him, and he raises a hand to hide his amused smile. You suppose he’s trying not to laugh. “Yes, I’ll cover for you. Promise.”

You nod, eyes already closing. “Okay. G’night.”

Your eyes are still closed when you brush past consciousness again. You’re still asleep, you suppose, but the half-moons being traced on your palm are so visceral, so soothing. So real.

The touch on you is familiar, comforting, even causes your heart to flutter. Ah, so you are awake. You can’t open your eyes yet, but you must be awake – at least half-awake.

You try to speak normally, but your voice comes out weak and raspy. “Satoru?”

“Ah, finally awake again?” He hums. “Your eyes are still closed, sweets. Still sleepy, huh?”

You let out a mildly annoyed groan in response to his teasing.

He chuckles. “You can sure sleep a lot. It’s truly a gift. What a talent.”

You force your eyes to part a crack. Your vision is hazy, blurred with sleep, but you can still make out his figure. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not. I’m only expressing my jealousy,” He bites back playfully.

“What, you haven’t been sleeping well?” You inquire.

“Well, considering one of my closest…friends went missing for over half a day, no, I have not been,” He says it lightly, nearing on playful, but you don’t miss how tight-lipped his smile is.

You look to the side opposite him, flushed with shame. You mumble out an embarrassed, “Sorry…”

You raise a hand to your face, rubbing the crusted sleep from your eyes, and are pleasantly surprised when you don’t experience any resistance. The IV must have been removed.

You sit up as you normally would, but nearly plop back down from the wave of dizziness that hits you.

While you try to blink away your dizzy spell, his hands reach under you to support your back, holding you firmly in place.

“Lay back down, you still need to rest,” Gojo scolds, gently pressing you back into the covers. “You’re just gonna hurt yourself more if you move. Thought you were smarter than that, sweets.”

You pout and stick out your tongue at his dog on your intelligence, but don’t try to argue. He’s right.

“I dont want to push you,” Gojo starts, tone more serious than before. “But I’m here to listen whenever you want to talk about it, okay?”

You nod. “I think I’m rea-”

A thought suddenly materializes in your brain – the higher-ups are going to want to know what happens. They will pry and push and prod until they get answers.

Your demeanor changes quickly – fear returns to your body, tensing your muscles and causing them to quiver.

“Do they know? Do Yaga and the elders know? I-I can’t see anyone else yet – please don’t make me talk to them,” You beg softly, frantically. “Does Yaga know I’m here?”

When Gojo shakes his head, you sink back into your sheets in relief.

“Oh, thank god,” You breathe out. “Don’t think I could handle that.”

“They don’t know anything, I made sure of it,” He reassures. “Shoko was going crazy having me around, so she sent me to talk down Yaga about sending out trackers to trace your cursed energy. A bit ironic, isn’t it?”

“Speaking of our medical deviant – do you want her here for this?” Gojo asks softly.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head vehemently. “No, no, not…not yet.”

Gojo can’t hide his surprise at your firm and immediate refusal, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Okay. That’s okay. Whenever you’re ready, then.”

You smile weakly at him. “It’s better to get it over with, I guess. So, you...already kinda know why I was there.”

He nods, gaze downcast. “The higher-ups forced you to track the two special-grades.”

“Right. They did. More than just track, though. They…they found out about my innate technique.”

His head shoots up. “What?”

You sigh. “They found out, decided to put it to use. Espionage. Monitoring the curses and recording everything they said.”

“But how?” Gojo asks, brow furrowed. “How did they find out?”

You bite your lip, exhaling deeply. “They found my parents and threatened them. I still don’t know exactly how they found out, or what they said to my parents, or exactly how much my parents said; I still don’t know anything.”

You shake your head as frustration stirs up inside of you again. “I probably should have tried to find out, but I was just so scared of what they’d do if they found me prying. So I just shut up and did what they asked of me. Track the curses, listen to them, collect information.”

“Those old geezers,” Gojo chuckles darkly. “Bastards, all of them.”

A pang of guilt burns through you – you worried him, are still worrying him, for what? This could have been avoided.

“I should have just told you,” You say quietly, choking on regret. “I should have, but I was so scared what they’d do if they found out. It was stupid of me. It would have been fine.”

You bark out a watery laugh, which he almost flinches at: it’s so sudden and out of nowhere. “You’re a really good secret keeper. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

He’s at the very edge of your bed now – leaning in towards you, torso pressing into the edge of the mattress.

“Stop blaming yourself,” He says softly. “It’s a difficult situation to be in – loved ones being used as leverage. You did your best. It’s not your fault.”

You lean into him appreciatively, not trusting words; your eyes flutter shut as you savor in his warmth.

His fingers dig into your skin. His voice is low when he speaks next. “The higher-ups wouldn’t tell me anything no matter what I said or did, but I knew it was something bad. Between this and first years’ mission, I’m ready to k–”

“No, don’t,” You say hurriedly. “Please stop saying that. I’m fine, Itadori’s fine. It’s okay. This was my fault, anyway.”

“Sweets, it wasn’t,” He sighs, clutching your form.

“It really was, though,” You insist. “If I had been careful it would have been fine, it always is. It’s just that–”

You bite your lip, willing tears not to come, but they spill down anyway. Gojo quickly wipes them away.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” He says softly, encouragingly.

You fight to keep your voice from breaking as you release the secrets that have been plaguing you. “Everything would have been fine. They never knew I was there, they could never tell. It was all fine until yesterday...really...”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. Seeing your obvious internal struggle, Gojo takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it tightly.

“Jogo is always complaining about his ‘Boss’, and I never really thought anything of it, but he said...” Your final words are shaky. “Someone’s name. Someone I know to be dead.”

You feel nauseous as you force the words out. “It’s Geto, Satoru. He’s working with the curses.”

His breath hitches. The hand around yours goes rigid, his shoulder you lean on goes stiff. He’s frozen, unmoving. For Gojo, time stops – for you, the ticking of the clock on the wall is absurdly loud.

“That’s...” Gojo murmurs. “That’s impossible.”

“Nobody ever recovered his body,” You whisper, your voice airy and barely audible.

Your eyes never stray from him; you watch as he drags a hand down his face, the pressure dimpling his skin where his fingers make contact.

“Did you see it with your own eyes?” He asks quietly, voice taut.

It. Not him, but it.

Your teeth catch on your bottom lip, and the pain almost welcome. “No, but…there’s no way he was lying. Hanami scolded Jogo for even just saying his name. It-it couldn’t have been a set-up. They didn’t know I was there.”

Gojo presses a hand to his chin, clutching his own skin hard. His gaze is downcast. Aura dark.

“I’m scared,” You whisper, eyes searching his face. “What if he...what if...”

You allow yourself to sink into his chest, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His arms automatically wrap around you, tugging you close to him.

“Please be careful,” You murmur into his neck. “Please, Satoru.”

“You’re going to lecture me about being careful?” He chuckles, but it’s weak and broken. “You’re so funny, sweetheart.”

“I’m being serious,” You whimper. “This is serious. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think. You a-and Shoko, fuck…what are we going to do, are we going to be okay, are you–?”

“It’ll be fine,” He says quickly – too quickly. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, sweets. It’s all fine.”

“Satoru…” You say, not convinced. “But it’s not. And it’s okay that it’s not.”

You study his face, eyes landing on his blindfold, voice barely a whisper. “It’s okay if you’re not okay.”

He takes a ragged breath, then releases you from his arms. The force of it shoves you away from him, and you’re left blinking in confusion at his actions. You swivel around, concerned but also hurt, and watch him straighten out his signature sorcerer coat.

Panic bubbles up in your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“What do you mean?” He cuts you off, a broken smile twisting his lips up. “It’s all good. I just have places to be, missions to complete. Maybe I’ll pick up some dinner in another country too, huh?”

You’re on the verge of tears, and the lump in your throat makes it hard to squeeze out your next words. “Satoru, wait, can we please talk about this, I’m worried-”

“I’ll be by later, alright?” He says, dismissing your words with a tight-lipped smile. “Well, bye then. Don’t miss me too much.”

Before you can get another syllable out, he’s gone. Teleported away. You couldn’t run after him even if you wanted to – the thought rips a sardonic laugh from you.

You’re alone, brain on fire, heart in pieces. Your head is swimming with thoughts of those who have touched your heart throughout your sorcerer life – Geto, Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara.

Another bitter cackle echoes through empty infirmary: you’ve come to the realization that you’re all either broken or dead, and you can’t decide which one is worse.

next part

[a/n pt 2: for anyone confused – implied past shoko x geto, implied current shoko x utahime]

tag list <3: @screwyou3

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #hurt/comfort #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru needs a hug #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #ieiri shoko #Gojo satoru needs therapy

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