#Refuge Flock
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Wanted to draw something and decided to draw a piece with my OCs, Ash and 'The Preceptor'. Ironically, both have their faces covered, so it was an experience lol.
#my art#acedraws#digital art#digital artwork#oc#art#original character#original art#original artwork#The Haven#Refuge Flock#Ash#The Preceptor
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Finch finally got a redesign that suits her more... With that, if you want to know more about my riptide oc, info below! :D
WARNING: there's A LOT of yapping
Finch, originally named Farren Van Aalsburg, stands as a 22-year-old pirate whose legacy is intertwined with the notorious ship, The Arbiter.
Known for her ruthless and calculated leadership, Finch's mere approach to piracy would send ripples of apprehension through the ranks of sailors and even unsettle the most seasoned navy officers. The very mention of her crew's arrival was often met with foreboding whispers. In taverns, pirates would share knowing smirks over their mugs of beer, while officers would exchange wary glances. They'd caution one another,
"Retribution's coming."
Farren's lineage traces back to a well-known navy captain, Heimer Van Aalsburg, praised for his adeptness in handling internal conflicts and hailed as one of the foremost strategists in naval warfare. Alongside his family, composed of Farren, her stepsister Hestia, and stepmother Alisei, they resided aboard a wonderful mahogany vessel, embarking on voyages from one port to another.
For Heimer, Farren was the centre of his universe, he couldn't have wished for a better daughter. Their connection strengthened, particularly in the wake of Farren's mother, Julith Ferin's passing when Farren was just four years old.
The bond between Farren and her younger sister was equally profound, they had an unbreakable bond from the very moment they met. However, amidst this familial setting, Alisei nursed a vicious, festering resentment, convinced that Farren overshadowed Hestia in Heimer's eyes. This animosity later culminated in a tragic incident that took place one, stormy night.
In an unfortunate turn of events, Farren finds herself overboard, her desperate attempt to grasp the ship resulting in a severe injury to her right arm. Eventually, the raging waters below are quick to swallow her.
As her consciousness returns, she kneels before a colossal leviathan. The creature presents a solemn pact: it will guide her to the nearest vessel and mend her injured arm, with the condition that she accepts the burden of becoming the guardian of the seas until her last dying breath. An oath that binds her to a life on the move, forbidding her to settle on solid ground or abandon her duty. With hesitation, she agrees.
One fateful day, Skip, a hardy half-orc fisherman, discovers a young girl ensnared in his ship's nets. Swift to lend a helping hand, he extends not only a refuge but a genuine home for the girl, determined to help navigate her through the uncertain future.
Now residing on a small isle, a mere few days were enough for her to befriend a whole flock of zebra finches, who trailed behind her like loyal companions. Considering the girl didn't remember anything, let alone her name, Skip decided that the name 'Finch' would be more than a suitable choice.
Finch grapples with a zero to no recollection of herself and her family. Her only tangible link is a gilded medallion etched with the initials 'J.H.F’ accompanied by a few fleeting memories of her father.
Finch becomes a stalwart protector, earning recognition as the island's guardian. Fueled by an unyielding commitment, she gathers a crew at the age of 16. Two years later, they embark on their first voyage.
Her four years at sea culminates in a fierce clash with the navy, leaving Finch and her childhood friend, Shelby, as the lone survivors. In the wake of the tragedy, Finch confronts a maelstrom of emotions, grappling with guilt, simmering anger, and the rekindling of a long-suppressed fear of the unforgiving ocean.
"What value does a fierce pirate captain, one who commands the treacherous seas yet harbours such fear, truly possess?" - Niklaus, on their last meeting.
Finch and Niklaus have a history of encounters, each one more significant than the last.
Their first meeting took place when Finch was just 16, in the midst of assembling her crew. Niklaus dangled the promise of information regarding her family, but only if she'd abandon her oath. She refused, even poking fun at him the whole time—a stance she maintained on numerous occasions.
The second encounter, at the age of 22, followed a previously mentioned, deadly battle. Niklaus presented her an offer to turn back time, still on the condition of letting go of her oath. Once again, she refused, stating he's a fool if he thinks she'll ever give it up. After a few humiliating attempts at bribing her, he gives up.
A mere few weeks later, their paths crossed once more. This time, Niklaus proposed a lasting solution to banish her deep-seated fear of the ocean in return for a future favour. He pledged to provide a specific time, place, and a duel to be won, one she'd be obliged to fulfil, that is not linked to her oath. After careful consideration, and a few conditions, Finch shook on the arrangement (and still made fun of him the entire time).
(where are we in the timeline as of that moment? this would be around the time when silly riptide pirates are stuck in the Feywild...)
What's next for Finch? Well, she'd probably take this opportunity to uncover more about her past, of course with Shelby's help. And then maybe she'll bribe a cute moon sorcerer to join her crew...
#digital art#character concept art#dnd oc#oc#original character#oc art#jrwi riptide oc#the yappening is real#skye's ocs#riptide oc
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Glass Cuts Deepest (6)
[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]
[ warnings: kissing, fluff, angst, trauma, mention of rape, indecent student-teacher relationship ]
[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
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He felt like killing Cregan for suggesting in front of everyone that they should take Wright with them to install the stained glass windows instead of consulting him in private, putting him in a position where he couldn't disagree.
He knew he would be tense throughout their stay there because of her and was furious.
After Lyanna gave her testimony to the police along with the other girls who wanted to accuse Lannister of harassment and the statement she made, the professors who had not spoken to him in years suddenly began to approach him, offering to shake his hand in greeting.
He did not reciprocate their gestures.
No one asked him if he had a reason for doing what he did, no one was interested in his feelings then.
He did not need their pity now.
Lyanna after couple of days wrote him an e-mail saying that the charges had been filed, that she would tell the court about everything she saw, willing to take any punishment for not reacting then, and asked him if he would agree to testify to confirm their words.
He replied to her without any politeness, with only one word.
Yes.
He noticed something else and although he didn't want it to matter to him, he felt a tickle in his chest when he caught Wright glancing over her shoulder at him, that warmth again sounded in her greeting and farewell.
Looking at her, he felt the discomfort caused by how much he craved her good opinion, flocking to her like a moth to the light, tired and worn out, wanting at last to find a refuge somewhere.
He had the impression that the last years of his life had been a perpetual tossing in agony, a running to nowhere, feeling breathless and drained of strength, of emotion, so that the fact that he felt anything for her was something shocking, new, revealing to him.
He realised, albeit with a great deal of despair and denial, that she had aroused his affection.
That he wanted to get closer to her, although he didn't know how he was supposed to achieve this.
He didn't want to do it in a literal, physical way, but in a spiritual way.
A safe one.
One in which he could not be hurt.
Even so, these musings remained in his mind as he was unable to make anything out of himself or show anything, embarrassed by his thoughts and weakness, so everything was as it was before.
It was this realisation that made the thought of travelling in her company give him panic attacks, he didn't know himself what he wanted anymore, he didn't understand himself.
On top of that, he reminded himself all the time that she was his student, that he had stigmatised Jason for the same behaviour. He fell into state of depression and sadness explaining to himself that he had to focus on work and not on her.
The whole drive passed in general calm, he tried to concentrate on what Cregan was saying and on driving, refraining with poor effect from glancing in the mirror to see her face, sitting in the back behind them, gazing out of the window at the view.
He could feel the heat in his chest as he looked at her and knew that it was very, very bad.
When they arrived, unpacked and set off for the church he felt that perhaps everything would go without any problems, Cregan thankfully filling their space with his chatter made it bearable for all of them.
Once he had made sure that none of the stained glass quarters had been damaged in transit he decided that they could return to their hotel and after a little shopping each of them locked themselves in their rooms.
He couldn't sleep knowing she was in the room next door, in addition it was hot and he was wriggling in his bed.
He felt disgusted with himself, but he was also overcome by a kind of joy, because he thought he would never feel such a thing, especially for a woman.
Meanwhile, he was melting more and more each day at the sight of her, her understanding of his needs, her distance, her respect, her warmth made him feel safe around her, he knew she would never violate his space, that she would not judge him, even though he was such a wicked man.
He swallowed loudly at the thought that he was beginning to fear that he was falling in love with her.
It seemed tacky to him, a professor falling for his female student, all the inappropriateness of it which made it all the more exciting.
He figured that it probably wasn't about that after all.
It was about her way of being.
About who she chose to be.
When he looked at her, he felt like touching her.
Her cheek, her hand, her hair, without any subtext, just to see how soft her skin was, how she smelled, whether it felt good.
To rediscover the touch.
To make him no longer afraid of it.
He swallowed loudly at the thought that she would surely scold him if she heard what his thoughts sounded like.
He got up, deciding that he needed a cigarette because he wasn't going to fall asleep anyway, and walked out onto the balcony, sitting down comfortably.
He put the cigarette in his mouth and pressed the lighter to it, lighting it lazily from the flame that appeared in front of his face.
He took a drag and sighed heavily, letting the smoke out through his nose, looking at the night silhouette of the city around him.
He jumped up in his seat, shocked when he heard the sound of the door opening on the other side and noticed her head poking out towards him.
Her hair was loose.
As soon as she saw him, she immediately backed away, terrified.
"I'm sorry." She mumbled embarrassedly, and he moved restlessly in his chair, frowning his eyebrows, his heart pounding like mad.
"Stay. I'm finishing up anyway." He said lowly feeling how fast and anxious his breathing was, all tense, desperate.
Stay.
For a moment he heard no sound on the other side, but her balcony door remained open. She came out after a while, he swallowed loudly noticing her bare, slim legs.
She sat down quickly on the other side of the table, leaning against the backrest, looking out at the city, not at him, all tense.
He thought, taking another drag, feeling his hands tremble slightly, that he could just sit like that and stare at her for hours, admiring her from afar.
He could see that she felt uncomfortable, that the silence between them made her feel like an intruder after all, so with a light, casual movement of his hand, he moved the open pack of cigarettes towards her. She gave him a surprised look and shook her head.
They glanced at each other for a long moment, and he felt there was something in the air, some kind of tension that had been building between them for weeks.
He cocked his head, shaking the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray with his finger.
"Are you afraid of me?"
He saw her look at him, startled, moving restlessly in her seat and swallowed loudly.
"I'm not afraid. I just don't understand you, Professor." She said with some kind of weariness, lowering her gaze. He chuckled at her words, amused.
Interesting.
"And what is it you want to understand?" He asked defiantly, his cigarette burning slowly in his hand, but he was focused on her response, uncertainty ran across her face, she pressed her lips together not knowing where to look.
"What has happened to you."
He felt his whole body suddenly tense up and he froze in mid-motion, he felt like his heart had stopped beating for a second. She glanced at him and turned pale, seeing the look on his face.
"Careful now. You're treading on thin ice." He said in a deep, cold voice, taking another drag, not taking his eyes off her, her bottom lip quivering in terror.
"Please. Please, sir, let me understand." She whispered softly, and he felt a squeeze in his heart.
He hesitated.
He didn't want to talk about it, but on the other hand he was eager to get closer to her, he wanted her to understand him.
He didn't want her pity, though, and usually that's what he got.
He decided that if he didn't tell her now, she would never be able to fully approach him.
The same invisible wall would remain between them.
He pressed the remnants of his cigarette to the ashtray, letting the smoke out through his nose.
"I was raped by a woman when I was 16."
He glanced at her reaction and saw exactly what he had feared.
She froze completely, drawing in the air in disbelief, her eyes big and terrified, her body beginning to shake. He clenched his jaw thinking of the scene she was about to make, of her crying and wailing over his sad fate, telling him it wasn't his fault, how sorry she was.
He didn't give a shit.
He didn't want her sympathy, her tears, her despair.
He wanted her.
He wanted to be a man in her eyes, not a victim.
He reached for another cigarette and slipped it into his mouth, lighting it with a nonchalant, light-hearted gesture, taking another drag, looking at her pityingly, seeing that she was in a decreasing state. He let the smoke out with a quiet hiss.
"It's a pity you can't see yourself. They should give a Nobel peace prize to every woman who looks at me like that when she learns about it." He murmured annoyed, taking another drag, looking at her with rage, feeling like telling her to pull herself together.
He saw tears run down her cheeks, her pink, full lips parted in an involuntary, accelerated, terrified breath. She wiped them away, but to no avail; she couldn't stop it apparently. He shook his head, sighing disapprovingly, tired.
"Always this crying." He muttered dryly, shaking off the ash into the ashtray with an impatient gesture of his finger.
He saw something flash across her face, some kind of pain, as if he had slapped her, and after a moment she stood and walked out, closing the door from her balcony behind her, leaving him alone.
He felt his heart pounding, looked towards her windows completely shocked.
This was something he hadn't expected.
He swallowed loudly, burning his cigarette quickly, immediately regretting what he had said, how he had reacted, recognising that he had asked too much of her, that he had told her something like that, and then humiliated her even though she had not said a word.
He made up his own mind about how she felt without asking her opinion, fearing that she would confirm his suspicions.
He stood up and ran a hand over his face, heartbroken, knowing he had screwed up. He walked to her balcony door and knocked on it, sighing loudly, massaging his forehead.
"Please, open. I'm sorry." He said in a tired, broken voice loud enough for her to hear him.
He shuddered as he heard movement on the other side, the door opened and she stood in front of him, closer than ever, looking at him with her face red and swollen from tears, her eyes full of pain, sadness and regret.
He knew he had hurt her and she had done nothing to deserve it.
He hurt her because he knew she couldn't be his.
He was punishing her for his own desperation.
He looked at her and couldn't get anything out of himself, his nose filled with her scent, again the same coconut shampoo he'd smelled when she'd first come to him. He felt a tickle in his fingertips, a warmth in his lower abdomen.
"I am not a good person. I do and say worse and worse things. I'm tired of myself and the people around me. I feel like I'm spiralling down and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't understand why you cared so much about me teaching you, but what I said just a moment ago was an expression of my pure cruelty." He said in despair, knowing that he had screwed up, that he was an aggressive, insane, broken man who had struggled for years with his trauma, which he could not overcome.
His mother never forgave herself for taking Alys on holiday with them back then, she didn't know what she was capable of and wanted to report it to the proper authorities immediately, but his father wouldn't allow any charges to be brought to the police.
He said they wouldn't prove anything against her in court anyway, and it would affect his future campaign for parliament badly.
Now, years later, he realised with painful disappointment that his father simply did not believe him at the time.
He did not have the heart to tell his already remorse-ridden mother that he was not coping, that therapy was not working.
Her words completely devastated him and even though he knew he had done wrong, he cried like a baby all night after the phone call from her.
For years she thought he had forgotten, that all was well, and when she found out he had hit a woman, she turned on him, saying that this was not how she had raised him, that he had gone from being a victim to being an abuser.
She was his only friend, his one confidant and she had left him.
He thought he deserved it.
She swallowed loudly at his words, lowering her gaze.
"I wanted to work with you because you are the best. Because you are to me the model of an artist, a hard-working man doing everything with care and attention to detail. I respect you very much in this regard, sir, and I try not to make you feel uncomfortable with me, although I am only now beginning to understand what this discomfort is caused by." She choked out with difficulty, looking at him with an understanding from which he grew hot.
She tried to comprehend him, not to judge him, not to reject him despite how he treated her, even though she had every right to do so.
She tried, and he did nothing to deserve it.
He didn't deserve that she stood in front of him and listened to him, didn't deserve that she changed her clothes before their class especially for him, that she was careful not to hurt him.
He swallowed loudly, feeling all-consuming shame, tears welling up in his eyelids as he looked at her.
He had a feeling she noticed it because her lips parted slightly, looking at him with concern.
He wanted to touch her.
For the first time since that day, he wanted to touch someone like that.
"Will you let me touch your cheek?" He whispered quietly, with shame, as if he had just told her his most disgusting hidden secret, more disgusting than rape, more disgusting than slapping his student.
Nothing seemed worse to him than the fact that he desired her.
He was sure she would look at him in disgust, that she would tell him it was inappropriate, ask him how could he propose such a thing, but she kept looking at him, something in her eyes that made him feel hot.
She nodded her head.
He stared at her in disbelief, not believing that she had agreed, that he was allowed to do such a thing.
He swallowed hard, lifting his trembling hand slowly and ran his fingertips lightly, gently, delicately over her tear-warm skin. He drew in a breath feeling how soft she was, how she sank under his touch.
He couldn't help himself and touched her again, his thumb trailed over her soft, wet lips and she sighed softly, her gaze warm, tender, misty.
"You are so beautiful." He whispered in pain, wanting her to understand what he felt, unable to muster any other confession, heartbroken at his weakness, his vulnerability, exposed to any hit from her, to any kind of rejection.
She blinked at his words and blushed in embarrassment, lowering her gaze for a moment, raising it again to his face, his fingers continued to stroke the soft skin of her cheek.
"You are beautiful too, sir." She whispered softly, and he felt heat spilling over his chest, his heart starting to pound like crazy at the thought that she was reciprocating his affection, that she had a weakness for him too.
He felt himself get completely hard at the thought and it terrified him.
He wasn't ready, he didn't know what he should do now.
He shuddered when he saw her raise her hand and quickly grabbed her wrist, scared, looking at her pleadingly.
She lowered her hand, looking at him with worry and understanding, and he let her go, breathing unevenly, terrified and aroused at the same time, wanting only to stay with her, to be by her side, to sit beside her, to do anything as long as he could look at her.
"No. Don't touch me." He said quickly, breathing hard. "Please."
"May I touch your hand?" She asked quietly, uncertainly, and he looked at her, fighting with himself, wanting it and not wanting it at the same time, afraid of what she wanted to do, what she was thinking about.
He nodded, deciding that he would trust her.
Her fingers slipped into his free hand and grasped it lightly, non-committally, leading him with her to her room.
He felt his heart pounding hard when he saw that she was leading him towards her bed and immediately panicked, knowing that he couldn't do this, that he didn't want to.
"I don't −" He began, and she let him go, sitting down on her bedding, extending her hand to him, looking at him with eyes that didn't show what he expected.
"I know. That's not what I want either." She whispered, and he felt immense relief, swallowing loudly, trying to relax.
That's not what I want either.
"Turn your back to me." He commanded, looking at her with his eyes wide open, breathing anxiously, wanting to make sure he was in control of what was happening, that she didn't suddenly touch him or make any violent gesture.
She obediently did as he asked, laying on her side with her back to him, her hair spread in disarray on the pillow around her head, her bare legs lying casually on top of each other.
He watched her figure for a moment, pulling off his shoes, and then carefully and slowly lay down behind her at a safe distance, smelling the intense scent of her shampoo and her shower lotion.
He swallowed loudly, unable to tear his gaze away from her hair, from how soft they looked, from how long he'd been thinking about what it would feel like to hold it between his fingers.
He licked his lips involuntarily at the thought.
"Can I touch your hair?" He whispered, feeling that it was immoral, perverted, but he couldn't help himself, being so close to her, his length pulsed hard in his trousers, demanding any form of intimacy with her, one that didn't threaten him.
He needed her.
He saw that she nodded, moving to arrange herself more comfortably, her chest rising and falling in accelerated breaths.
He lifted his hand and placed it on her head, then combed his fingers through her hair in a slow, unhurried motion.
With his movement, an even more intense scent of her shampoo reached his nostrils, the structure of her curls was soft and surprisingly smooth, as if he were touching a newly bought brush of natural bristles.
Surprised by this pleasant sensation, he stroked her like this, resting the weight of his hand on her head, playing with a strand of her hair once in a while, fascinated by this unforced, almost innocent closeness.
He glanced at her, feeling that she wasn't moving, wondering with a pain in his heart if she was terrified or afraid he would do something to her.
"Is it pleasant? Are you uncomfortable?" He asked quietly with his heart pounding hard, wanting to know if he should stop, not wanting to do to her what his mother's friend had done then, during their holiday together many years ago.
He wanted her to be comfortable, to be calm, to feel safe.
He heard her swallow quietly, and after a moment her soft, warm, slightly hoarse voice echoed through the room.
"No. It's very pleasant. I think I'll fall asleep if you don't stop, sir."
He felt heat spilling over his chest at these words, at this proof that she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep beside him, that his touch was not unpleasant, unwanted to her.
They laid like this, not saying anything or moving, listening to their own breaths.
He watched the back of her head, her body rising and falling in her breath, feeling her soft hair under his fingertips, and thought that in two years' time, when Cregan finished his habilitation he wanted to leave.
He wanted to set up his own workshop, to get away from the rector and the professors who harassed their students, to be able to decide for himself who he wanted to hire and who he didn't, without having to listen to anyone's judgement.
He swallowed aloud at the thought that, knowing that he wouldn't then be the supervisor of her thesis and wouldn't have a say in her final grade and degree, what he was doing now would no longer be so questionably moral.
That he could then allow himself to desire her.
He woke at dawn with his nose snuggled into her hair, his arm embracing her, his hand holding her palms in a subconscious gesture to not let her touch him. He hummed as he felt her fingertips wandering over the top of his hand, forming a circle-like shape each time.
He felt a pleasant shudder every time she did this, his manhood pulsed hard, thirsty and additionally swollen as the morning wore on, pressing against her buttocks before him.
He grunted quietly, pulling back, not wanting her to think he was encouraging or expecting her to do anything, melting his face into her hair, seeking refuge from the lust he felt.
"What's going to happen now?" She asked quietly, uncertainly, her fingers continuing to run over his palm.
He murmured quietly, lying behind her with his eyes closed, inhaling the scent of her skin and shampoo, feeling bliss, peace and contentment. He ran his thumb over her lying hand, feeling the soft structure of her skin beneath his fingers.
"We shall see. Okay?" He whispered, not wanting to promise her anything or pretend that nothing had happened between them. He wanted them to just let this unfold as it was meant to, without rushing.
He was comfortable as it was now.
"Okay." She said softly, warmly, and he smiled involuntarily.
He leaned in, placing a tentative, gentle kiss on her neck, from which she shuddered all over. He tightened his arm more firmly around her body, holding her in an iron grip.
"Don't move. Tell me if you want me to stop." He whispered, trailing his lips slowly lower, brushing against her skin with a quiet click, leaving wet marks, sliding a piece of her t-shirt with his nose, placing one last kiss on her bare shoulder, sliding back down.
Hearing their breaths quicken, feeling them curl into each other's embrace, feeling her head tilt back in with a sigh, he found it more intimate and arousing than any porn movie he'd ever seen in his life.
"So beautiful. So good." He whispered in between his soft, warm kisses, feeling her fingers tighten on his hand, seeking to escape the tension, he knew she was trying not to make any sudden movements and he was grateful to her for that.
"It feels so good." She whispered sweetly, softly, and he hummed under his breath, feeling his heart pounding hard, his lips pressed against her neck again, feeling the taste of her skin melt across his palate, the word he had longed to say for so long escaping his lips like a sigh.
"Mine."
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Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#hotd aemond#aemond x fem!reader#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell fanfic#dark aemond smut#dark aemond#dark aemond targaryen#modern aemond angst#dark modern aemond#modern aemond smut#modern aemond#aemond kinslayer#prince aemond#aemond#aemond one eye#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell smut#aemond targaryen angst#aemond angst#hotd angst#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#aemond fanfic#aemond fluff#hotd fanfiction
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Save Him
You are reading: PART ONE (the teaser is from part two)
PART TWO
Adult (20) Neteyam x fem!Metkayina!Reader
Synopsis: Y/n, the eldest daughter of Tonowari and Ronal is growing into a mighty warrior and she has been promised to Txonu Te Ìkhawvo Uäeye'itan, they are to be mated once Y/N is of the proper age- twenty. When Jake Sully and his family seek refuge with the Metkayina, it is their eldest son that finds his own refuge in the arms of a woman promised to another- but will he survive to withstand the repercussions?
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: angst, mentions of war, an arranged marriage/mating, it gets heated at times but no smut
a/n: GUYS it was getting way too long so I decided to split it into two parts THIS IS PART ONE stay tuned for part two players 😎, also its kind of a slow burn in the beginning LIGHTLY EDITED PLEASE DONT YELL AT ME
༺♡༻
Gentle waves rolled across the sandy shores of the Awa'atlu reef, tumbling the sand and retreating, only to come back again. There was no beginning to this cycle, no end, it had been since before you were born and would continue after your death. It was this constant that you knew for certain, not much else.
The day had just begun, you could still taste the breakfast your mother had prepared for you and your siblings as you made your way through the village with your little sister.
Tsireya walked quietly, making your suspicions rise.
"What is it?" You asked softly, both of you coming to a halt in front of the ilu saddles.
She shook her head. "What is what?"
A look of incredulity fell upon your features causing her to let out a soft groan.
"I've just been thinking lately..." She hesitantly admitted.
"About?"
She took a breath, placing the saddle she had grabbed back down with a huff.
"We have less than a year. Less than a year until you're to be mated with Txonu, and then you leave. You move into your own marui and have your own family. What happens to me and Ao'nung when you're gone?"
Your face softened, "Oh, 'Reya, I won't be far-"
"No but it will be different." Tsireya argued. "You don't even know him, how do you know you would be a good mated pair?"
"In time, we will learn."
The response you gave, the same one given to you by Ronal and Tonowari, made Tsireya growl, her face screwing up in distaste.
As if, by the will of Eywa, the flap of wings stole the attention of you and your sister, Txonu and his tsurak flew into the reef having just come back from a hunting trip.
You looked over at Tsireya, letting out a huff as you saw her look of mild disgust.
Txonu is a strong hunter and a good fighter. He had been trained under your father from a young age, the future Olo'eyktan of the clan, and you his future Tsahìk. You had yet to see his stoic front dissipate, it seemed a frown was permanently etched into his skin.
Even now, as he walked to meet your father at the front of the village, the crease between his brows was evident.
"He's so...angry." Tsireya complained.
You sighed, "He's just serious."
Tsireya turned her head to look at you, taking in the sadness that creeped behind your pale green eyes.
"Do you...think you will be able to see him?"
Her voice was soft, but it felt like it had reached out to your throat and wrapped around the column, making a lump form and block your airways.
Without meeting her eyes you exhaled, "I will learn to."
༺♡༻
You and Tsireya had been out with your ilus, riding through the kelp and around the reef when someone blew into the conch shell, alerting the Metkayina people of newcomers. A flock of flying creatures through the air, making you look up into the sky and squint your eyes. Looked like Na'vi.
"Come one, let's go see." Tsireya tugged your arm, bringing your attention back from the sky.
Synchronously, you two dove into the water, guiding your ilus to the front of the village.
Upon your arrival, you noticed a group had formed around the newcomers. They were easy to spot, skinny, tall and dark blue- they were not from these waters. You dismounted your ilu, ducking underwater to swim closer to the shore before breaking through the surface. Unbeknownst to you, you had an audience of one.
Neteyam saw the movement in the water from the corner of his eye. Turning his head to get a better view, he felt his eyebrows shoot up and jaw go slack at the sight before him. A Metkayina woman walked onto the shore from the shallow water, her thick, wavy hairy dripping with sea water. His mouth went dry as he followed a droplet that had fallen from her chin travel across her chest, down to her navel, and along her right leg.
Realizing that he was quite shamelessly checking this girl out, he snapped his head back up, eyes darting to her face. Her eyes never met his, not until she was standing behind Tonowari- she was the Olo'eyktan's daughter.
The tips of his fingers began to tingle with numbness- a new sensation all together- as he made eye contact with the Metkayina girl as her head turned to meet his gaze. Neteyam offered her a small, inconspicuous smile, making her purse her lips in an attempt not to reciprocate the gesture, instead looking away.
You felt your heartbeat against your ribcage as the boy, the forest boy you had just learned, looked into your eyes and smiled. Quickly, you averted your gaze, not wanting anyone to notice the innocent, albeit flirty, interaction- but a smile fought to make itself seen upon your lips making you raise a hand to cover them.
"...Our son Ao'nung and daughters Y/N and Tsireya, will show your children what to do." Your ears perked up, only now realizing you had completely tuned out his voice while looking at the forest boy.
Ao'nung was quick to try and argue, "But father, why do I-"
"It is decided." Your father shut him down.
Again, Ao'nung opened his mouth to voice his complaints, you put a hand to his shoulder, silently telling him to cease his arguing.
He turned to face you, "If they drown, I won't be the one to save them."
"If they drowned, " You whispered harshly, "We both know I would be the only one who could save them."
Your emphasis on 'could' made Ao'nung screw his face in annoyance, moving to push your hand off of him as he started to walk away with the rest of the clan. He hated your teasing.
"Come on, my sister and I will show you around our village." Tsireya smiled, stealing your attention from your brother.
You nodded, smiling at the family before nodding your head in the direction of the maruis, "Yes, this way."
The walk through the village was quick, Tsireya doing most of the talking while you led the way through the throngs of Metkayina coming to see the guests. Your mind wandered back to the boy, who you had an innate sense of awareness of as he walked just a few steps behind you, it was like his energy, his aura was tangible- it was reaching out with its tendrils and tugging on your wrists just begging for you to turn around and acknowledge it.
You fought against the temptation.
"Here is where you will be staying." You gestured toward the large, empty marui as your sister came to stand next to you.
Jake Sully, the former Omaticaya Olo'eyktan thanked the both of you before you and your sister left quickly, giving them space.
Neteyam watched your tail swing gently as you left, the vision etched into his mind, he hopes, forever.
The next morning you watched as Ao'nung grouchily put his hair up, being unnecessarily rough due to his pent up annoyance with today's agenda - teach the forest kids the skills of the Metkayina.
"Are you excited?" Tsireya asked, a giddy smile painted across her lips.
You nodded, mouth full with your breakfast.
"The forest boy was looking at you yesterday." She said matter of factly, making you nearly choke on the food in your mouth before you hastily chewed and swallowed.
"No he wasn't." You argued, face heating up at the fact that she had noticed the exchange.
Tsireya shoved your shoulder playfully, "Yes, he was. And you were looking too. I could tell."
You stood up, cleaning the remnants of your breakfast as you spoke monotonously, "Tsireya, I am promised to Txonu, I was not 'looking' at anyone."
"I hate when you do that." She mumbled, following you out of your family's marui.
You stopped, "Do what?"
"Speak like you are an old woman. You only do it when talking about Txonu." She explained, before walking past you and diving into the water.
"I don't sound like an old woman." You mumbled to yourself, offended at the insinuation.
Ao'nung finally made his way out of the marui, "Yes, you do." He concluded, diving into the water just as Tsireya had done.
You grumbled a small 'no, I don't' before entering the water yourself and swimming behind your siblings.
Breaking through the surface of the water, just outside of the forest family's marui, you moved to climb up and onto the ledge in front of the entrance.
You have a soft knock to the side of their doorway.
"Come on in."
It was Jake Sully.
Slowly, you stepped forward toward the doorway, the privacy flap had not yet been rolled up so you couldn't see what was happening inside. You pushed the edge of the flap as you walked through, nearly making it in in one piece...that is until you were hit by what felt like a solid tulkun fin.
You stumbled, trying to regain your balance, only to feel arms wrap around you and steady you themselves.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
A response was forming on your now dry tongue, but Jake Sully was quicker.
"Neteyam! Careful, huh? Keep your eyes open."
Neteyam nodded, "Yes, sir."
You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling awkward with the way his family had all stilled to stare at the way he was still holding you to his chest.
Lo'ak, his younger brother, let out a chuckle, "You can let her go, bro."
That seemed to catapult everyone back into action, Kiri going to help Tuk tie her top on while Neytiri rearranged their belongings in the hut with the help of Jake. Neteyam was also quick to remove his arms from around you, only for a split second however, before his palm came to rest on your bicep.
He leaned closer to you, lowering his voice ever so slightly, "You are okay? I didn't hurt you, right?"
You shook your head, slowly reworking through the wonders of spoken language.
"I'm-I'm alright." You assured quickly, standing up straight.
Neteyam smiled softly, "Good."
༺♡༻
The forest people were not the best divers, your brother, and his friends, made sure to make them very aware of their shortcomings often earning him a smack to the head from either you or Tsireya.
"We don't know this finger talk, we don't know what you are saying." Neteyam said, head bobbing gently up and down as he tread water.
Your voice came out first, "I will teach you."
Both Tsireya and Lo'ak shared a look trying to conceal their laughs.
"We will teach all of you." Tsireya corrected, making you roll your eyes in embarrassment.
The next few weeks progressed as such. You and your siblings taught the forest kids the way of the water, helping them grow their skills in the sea. You and Neteyam seemed to dance along a line of friendship, both of you yearning to push past an unknown boundary, yet reeling back each time. Neither of you could make the jump, afraid of the simple fact that getting close would lead to something irrevocable.
You all sat on a rock, outside of the water as you practiced breathing techniques. Ao'nung and Rotxo had since left, deciding they had better things to do.
Lo'ak, Neteyam, and Kiri listened as you explained the way of water. Your voice slowing down as you speak, an auditory representation of your heart rate slowing. Tsireya continued the speech as you went to adjust Kiri, resting your hand on her chest as she inhaled and exhaled. A smile danced across your lips as you felt her heart rate slow with her breathing.
"Good, Kiri. Your heart rate is dropping." You affirmed.
Neteyam felt as though your grin was contagious, his own mouth stretching into a smile as he watched the way your eyes flitted between your hand over his sister's heart and her face. A long curl fell into your face, making his hand twitch, fighting the urge to gently push it back behind your ear.
Removing your hands from Kiri, who still had her eyes closed as she inhaled and exhaled, you could overhear Tsireya assessing Lo'ak's breathing.
"Lo'ak, your heart is beating really fast." She mumbled, making you snort to yourself.
"Sorry."
Almost instinctively, you turn to look at Neteyam who sits across from you. Both of your eyes meet as you two give each other a knowing look and smile.
Neteyam felt his palms start to clam up as he watched you crawl over to him from the other side of the rock. Sitting on your knees before him, he could smell the salt and...something else, something floral, wafting off of you. He decided then that whatever that smell was, it was his favorite.
You felt him stiffen slightly as you put your hands against his chest and above his naval.
"Let me see."
With a slow, focusing breath, Neteyam started to breathe as you had instructed, slowing his heart rate. The feeling of his heart rate slowing had excitement radiating in your bones. Subconsciously, you scooted closer to him, angling your neck so you could beam up at him. He felt his breath hitch at not only the sight of you smiling up at him with bright eyes, but the feeling of your thigh coming right up against his, dangerously close to his hand that was resting near his bent knee.
Your brows furrowed, "Your heart is going so fast now."
Curiosity got the better of you, his sudden increase in heart rate taking you by surprise. You lean in close, pressing an ear to his chest listening to the strong buh-bum of his heart.
If anything, this new position made it worse. He could feel your hair falling over your shoulders and gently caressing his skin, it made his cheeks burn. Unfortunately for him, Kiri had opened her eyes just in time to catch you pushing your head into his chest. She let out a chortle, making her brother send her a deadly glare while his body remained stiff- this only made her laugh more.
You pulled away from Neteyam, bringing a hand to cup his cheek while the other rested against his forehead.
"Are you feeling alright, Neteyam?"
Neteyam wished that Eywa would take him, end his suffering, or perhaps make everyone else on the rock disappear so he could be left alone- alone with you, and your hands holding his face so tenderly, listening to your voice saying his name with such softness.
"I'm alright." He quickly reassures, hands going to grab your own that had been placed on his face.
You frowned, still curious about his sudden jump in heart rate but before you could say anything else on the subject a familiar sound rang through the air and settled- unwelcomely- in your bones.
Txonu flew over the rock you five had been sitting on before circling back and sending out the call again, it was his call for you.
His tsurak landed just far enough from the rock for you to figure it was an intentional show of dislike for the forest Na'vi.
"I'll be right back." You muttered, diving into the water and calling for your ilu to take you over to the brooding man.
Neteyam's face twitched, "Who is that?"
Tsireya groaned, "Txonu Te Ìkhawvo Uäeye'itan. Y/N is promised to him."
Neteyam turned to the younger girl, nearly breaking his neck in the process. You had never mentioned a mate, but his stomach fell with a new thought now gnawing at his heart- perhaps Txonu was the reason for the wall you've put up between yourself and Neteyam.
"They are mated?" Lo'ak asked, before Neteyam could get the words out.
Tsireya made a face of disgust, "No. Not yet. Txonu is waiting for Y/N to turn twenty, when she is a fully matured woman, to mate. The pair was decided by our parents."
"They are never together. She doesn't even talk about him." Kiri said, a lilt of confusion carrying through her words.
Tsireya nodded, "He's out hunting most of the time."
Her teal eyes glanced at Neteyam, seeing his evident antipathy toward the Metkayina man.
"I don't think Y/N likes him but she says she will do what is necessary for the clan."
Tsireya's explanation made Neteyam grumble. She was betrothed to another man, a man who had made it very clear he did not welcome his family with his standoffish demeanor and cold shoulder.
The Omaticayan's eyes watched carefully as your ilu stopped just next to Txonu. The man barely turned his head to look at you as you spoke. But the conversation was too low to be carried back to where Neteyam sat, forcing him to rely on reading your body language.
"Your father has sent me to see how the lessons have been going." Txonu spoke, eyes looking off into the horizon as if expecting something to jump out and attack at a moment's notice.
"They are learning, some faster than others, but they are all advancing." You explained, looking down into the water as you spoke.
Txonu nodded, "Good. They won't be useless."
You shook your head, "No, they will become strong members of the clan."
Tsireya's voice rang in your head 'you sound like an old woman'. You shake the comment that had been ringing through your head ever since she had said it a few weeks ago before looking up at Txonu.
"If that is all I must get back to the group." You tried to end the conversation.
Txonu turned to look past you and at the Na'vi on the rock, you followed his gaze catching sight of Kiri laughing and shoving Neteyam's shoulder, making him turn to her.
"I will see you during tomorrow's feast then. You are to sit with me, not your siblings." Txonu stated before commanding his tsurak to move out of the area.
You watched as he retreated, letting out the breath you hadn't realized you were holding in before turning on your ilu and diving into the water. For a moment your ilu stilled at your command under the ebb and flow of the surface. Unable to hold it in, you let out a scream, only to be silenced by the water. The air bubbles being the only sign of your cry for help.
Collecting yourself, you had your ilu swim back toward the rock ready to rejoin the group- but it was too late, the mood had shifted entirely.
It wasn't long before your small group began to head back to the village. Tsireya rode in the front, her ilu guiding the others through the reef while you fell to the back of the group.
You were the last to hang up your saddle, the rest of the group having already dispersed when you slowly made your dismount. Forcefully, you threw your saddle over the rack, tying it in place before feeling the burning of someone's gaze.
"How did you like today's lesson?" You asked, not turning to meet Neteyam's eyes.
You could hear the soft smile in his voice, "It was nice. The reef is beautiful. I've never seen anything like this in the forest."
"My favorite is after eclipse, that's when it's the most beautiful. There is this hidden cove with a cave that glows with different plants..." You trail off, finally meeting his soft stare.
There was something about the way he looked at you with his amber eyes that made you feel as though he was looking right through you, reading your soul like a book. His freckles glowed with some sort of truth serum, pulling your most honest confessions out of you, making them simmer on the tip of your tongue. Neteyam made you feel so vulnerable, for the first time in your life you were painfully aware of being perceived by someone else.
Neteyam took a step closer as you moved to avoid his gaze again, with a sharp intake of breath.
"Show me."
Maybe Lo'ak's recklessness was rubbing off on him.
You met his eyes with raised eyebrows, making a hum of confusion.
"Tonight, after eclipse. Show me the reef."
You wrung your fingers together, "I'm not supposed to be out after eclipse, especially not with...you."
Neteyam knew what you meant, if you were to be seen out after eclipse with someone other than your promised mate- the clan would definitely talk and it would definitely get back to your parents.
But right now, he didn't care.
"Me neither. It would be our secret." He lowered his voice, eyes staring intensely into your own.
A fire burned in the pits of his stomach, he wanted-no, needed to see you tonight.
Fiddling with the beads on your waist scarf you tried to respond, tried to think of a reason for why you didn't want to do it.
"Come on. Don't be a wuss." He taunted, hands coming up to cover your fidgeting ones.
He watched as mischief grew in your eyes, the same look he had seen in Lo'ak so many times just before he did something stupid- it made Neteyam smirk.
"I'll meet you at your marui, after everyone is asleep."
༺♡༻
Ronal brushed through your curls with her fingers as you sat on your woven sleeping mat, it was something she had done every night ever since you could remember.
She hummed gently, taking her time to untangle your hair before sleep. Secretly, she wished time would freeze in moments like these knowing that soon you'd be mate and gone, no longer her little girl.
Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of her fingers running against your scalp, almost enough to put you to sleep. Unfortunately for the serenity that was fighting to wash over your body, tonight's plan had irrepressible excitement bubbling in your belly.
Neteyam felt a similar feeling rising through his chest, making his leg bounce and fingers drum.
"Bro, you're shaking the whole tent." Lo'ak grumbled, rolling over to face away from his brother.
His family was all either asleep or close to it, the day's events draining them. It was only Neteyam that was fully awake, sitting up on his sleep mat with his back against the side of the marui. His leg stilled and the shaking ceased, only to be replaced by the tapping of his feet as he waited- he would argue that it was rather patiently- for your arrival.
Lo'ak let out something between a hiss and high-pitched growl, as he shifted again pulling his woven blanket over his head dramatically. It was in the silence that followed that Neteyam heard it- a soft clicking, not unlike your call for your ilu.
After hearing it again, same cadence and tone, he knew it was meant for him.
Quietly, swiftly, Neteyam stood up and began inching closer to the doorway of the marui. He looked over to his parents, both sleeping soundly with Tuk between them. Lo'ak was next to fall under his gaze, his head buried under his blanket- he couldn't care less about what Neteyam was doing as long as it wasn't disturbing him. Finally, Neteyam looked over at Kiri, only to find her looking back at him with a knowing look.
She smiled at her brother's startled expression, before she quietly turned around, facing her back toward him and his daring behavior.
Neteyam let out a breath before pushing his way through the doorway of his family's marui.
"I didn't know how else to get your attention." You laughed from the water.
Watching as Neteyam lowered himself into the water as smoothly as he could to keep from making any sounds that would wake up his family.
"I knew it was you." He smiled, swimming over to you.
He made a motion to call for his ilu, making you jump to push your palm over his mouth effectively silencing him.
"No ilus, they would bring too much attention. We swim."
Neteyam nodded before looking down at your hand still covering his hand. Bashfully, you removed your hand from his mouth, only to grab his own hand in a spurt of boldness.
"Come on."
And suddenly, it was so easy to be disobedient if it meant you'd hold his hand just as you were right now.
Your grip never faltered as you swam through the waters, guiding him to the cove you had spoken of earlier. With every pass of a glowing fish or unique plant, you would squeeze his hand a few times to get his attention, effectively making Neteyam melt.
Coming to a halt at the edge of your home reef, you sign for him to go up to the surface.
"It's just outside the reef, stay close to me." You informed, gripping his hand tighter to punctuate your point.
Neteyam chuckled, "Ah, mighty warrior is going to save me?"
His teasing got a quick rise out of you, making you splash him with water. Neteyam blinked, his mouth falling open as he retaliated with a wave of water directed at you. You dropped his hand as a fight ensued, both of you laughing hard as you tried to dodge the water shoved toward you.
You readied yourself to send more water his way, only for him to grab your wrist and pull you towards himself effectively stopping your planned attack- only he underestimated his own strength and ended up pulling you so close your noses nearly bumped.
Neteyam used one hand to grab onto your waist, steadying you in the water while the other he moved to keep you both afloat, along with his legs that were kicking softly next to yours.
The breath in your lungs disappeared, forcing you to gasp gently as you placed his hands on his shoulders.
Words felt insincere as your eyes met Neteyam's. His eyes followed the trail of glowing freckles that were scattered across your face like constellations, a map written into the stars, leading him to your lips.
"Nete-"
"Don't." He cut you off quickly, his voice soft yet strong. "Don't say my name. Not like that. Not when I have so little stopping me..."
His voice trailed as your eyes fluttered shut, trying to regain your composure. Neteyam nearly let his resolve crumble as you placed your hands on his chest to softly push yourself away from him, his fingers trailing against your waist that was pulling away.
"Let's go."
This time you didn't grab his hand.
Neteyam followed you closely as you swam through the water, his mind running a mile a minute thinking about what had just happened. He had half the mind to kick himself over how boldly he acted, how little willpower he had when it came to you.
Arrival to the cove felt sudden, due to his not paying attention. The walk up the shore was silent, it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward but rather dim and empty, there was a lack of emotion- one that Neteyam felt used to be so prominent- suddenly stripped away. He watched as your feet made prints in the sand, a part of him wanting to try his best to walk in your exact steps, fearing that it may be as close as he'll ever come to touching your skin again.
Neteyam's sense of longing evaporated as the entirety of the cove came into view. A cave had formed just a few feet from the shore and the bioluminescent waves tumbling against the sand. In the darkness of the eclipse, it looked like the cave went on forever, the entire back wall- significantly deeper into the cave- was covered with glowing green plants, like the ones he could find back home in the forest.
It looked like just that, Neteyam thought, a secret passage way back to his forest, back to his home.
"It's beautiful." Neteyam breathed out, walking further into the cave.
You watched him, a smile dancing across your lips without your knowledge as you whispered your agreement, not taking your eyes off of him, "Beautiful."
Carefully, you sat down on the ground and held your knees to your chest as you watched the waves beat against the shore. You felt Neteyam's presence before you saw him, the wispy, winding, tickling tendrils of his aura licking at the backs of your arms and down your spine. Turning your head, you watched as he sat down next to you, his eyes coming to meet yours.
"Thank you for showing me this place." He whispered so genuinely, so earnestly, it made you want to take him to every hidden corner and crevice of Awa'atlu, paint him a map of your home just before etching your heart onto his palm.
You nodded, words foreign to your tongue.
Neteyam felt a knot form in his stomach, your lack of response reigniting his guilt over what had happened in the water.
His hand reached out for yours on the sand, stopping short and falling just next to your own before he spoke, "I'm sorry I overstepped."
Your ears twitched at his apology, quivering voice making your heart ache.
"You don't-"
"I do." Neteyam cut you off, "I do have to apologize. It was not my place to speak so freely."
His freckles seemed to glow brighter, making your fingers go numb and tongue go dry with the need to tell him the truth- after a pathetic fight with your own willpower you gave in.
"I wish it were."
It was almost comical the way his eyebrows shot up, making you softly giggle. You made the move to push your hand into his, nudging your fingers under his palm only for him to grab them with such care it made you want to cry.
Neteyam smiled, looking down at your hands before a darkness washed over his features.
"It still is not my place, it is your mate's." His hand let go of yours.
Your mood soured at the mention of Txonu.
"Do you... see him?"
The question made you snap your head to look at Neteyam again, this time as if he had grown two tails.
You shook your head angrily, pushing yourself up and off the floor, "That's not something you can ask. You can't just-"
"It's a simple question, Y/N. Do you see Txonu?" He argued, standing to follow your steps as you paced around the cave.
Perhaps this was a bad idea, you felt too open, too vulnerable, too close to admitting something that you’ve willed yourself to never even think of.
If only the glow of his freckles hadn't been caught in your peripheral vision, along with his handsomely furrowed brow and amber eyes.
"No."
Your answer echoed throughout the cave as if to mock you.
"But he is good. Mother says I will learn to see him."
Again, you could feel Neteyam's presence behind you before he placed a hand onto your shoulder, lips coming to the shell of your ear as he spoke lowly, making your ears twitch against his upper lip.
"Y/N-"
"Stop." You whispered, unable to handle the intimacy.
Neteyam nudged the edge of your ear with his nose, closing his eyes as he reveled in the petal-like feel.
"Stop what?" He questioned, not moving a muscle.
You let out a shaky breath, turning your head to be face to face with the captor of your composure. Neteyam pressed his forehead into yours, eyes still closed as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, the other hand going to your waist and turning you to fully face him.
"The pressure of your perfection is crushing me, I can't remember how to breathe when I am near you." You gasped, chest heaving softly from your revelation.
"Then don't."
With that Neteyam pushed his lips onto yours. You were desperate to take everything he had to give you, lips chasing after each movement. He brought a hand to cradle the back of your head, effectively deepening the kiss. Your lips seared and ached with repressed passion, needing Neteyam the same way you needed air. For a moment you felt anger rise in your chest toward the Great Mother. How could she be so cruel, bringing Neteyam into your life knowing it is another man that you have been promised to.
Neteyam was the first to pull away reluctantly, both hands now cradling your cheeks. You pushed yourself closer to him, desperate to shower him with your affection, pressing soft, tender kisses to each of his freckles and running your lips along each of the deep blue lines that colored his face.
The feeling of your lips moving slowly over his skin made his eyes flutter shut, head angling up having you complete access to his lengthy neck. You ran your nose along the column, stopping at the connection between neck and shoulder and inhaling his raw scent.
For the next few minutes, nothing existed to either you or Neteyam as you both took turns familiarizing yourselves with skin you've longed to touch, kiss, and worship. It wasn't until Neteyam noticed a glimmer of orange out of the corner of his eye that his attention was pulled from everything that was you, his heart dropped- sunrise.
"Shit." Neteyam grumbled, pulling away from your lips and holding you to his chest.
Lazily, you kissed the skin there before fully realizing the reason for Neteyam's frustrations. The sun was coming up, the sun starting to peek through just enough that the front of the cove was now illuminated in an orange glow- that meant the village was waking up soon.
"Shit!" You repeated before grabbing his hand and running toward the water.
Neteyam followed you as you dove into the waves, the swim back to the reef had his lungs and muscles burning but your hand clasped around his dulled the ache.
Just as you got to the rocky entrance to the reef, Neteyam tugged you back towards himself. He pulled you into one last kiss, under the water and hidden from the view of the Metkayina. Breaking the kiss you signed 'Meet me here tonight. Same time', receiving a nod in response.
It was by the grace of Eywa that the both of you made it back to your maruis on time and undetected.
༺♡༻
The fire in front of you crackled and popped, captivating your tired tired eyes. Txonu notices as you start to doze off, eyes slowly lulling to sleep, making him roughly nudge your arm with his elbow.
You hum in acknowledgement.
"Why so tired?" He grumbled, though you believed that was just his natural voice.
Your tongue was tied, trying to think of a reasonable explanation, anything other than you had spent the night pressed up against the damp wall of a dimly lit cave trying to memorize the creases of a forest boy's lips.
"Didn't sleep well." You muttered, picking at your food.
Txonu side eyed your less than adequate manners, "Good hunters, good warriors sleep. They are ready. You need to sleep."
You assumed that was his way of trying to care about you, his own special way of saying 'try to get some sleep, for your safety'. Instead it came out like a father scolding a child and it made you cower.
Tiredly, you responded, "Yes, Txonu."
The agreement received a nod from your betrothed, silencing the conversation before he started it up again.
"Have you taken your tsurak out lately?"
A sudden sense of deja vu hit your nerves, you've had this exact conversation with your father already.
With a shake of your head you explain, "No, I have not needed to fight, nor have I been hunting this past week."
"The ilu is a child's animal. Warriors have fought on the backs of tsurak's-"
You interrupted him.
"And when there is a war, I will mount my tsurak. There is no war Txonu, my tsurak may swim freely until I call for it."
Your outburst angered your future mate, you could tell by the way he gripped the bowl in his hands and his features hardened.
"The forest people will bring a war, and we will be forced to fight. Warriors should be ready." His stare intensified as he turned to meet your gaze.
You stayed quiet, wishing for the conversation to end before your anger took over- a short temper was a trait that had carried to you from your mother.
Txonu saw this as a sign of submission, allowing him to continue.
"You are either a warrior, the one I know you have trained to be, or a child that partakes in reckless behavior with their siblings. You cannot be both."
The band snapped.
Standing up roughly, you turned to look down at Txonu who was ready to chastise you for acting out.
"When the war comes. I fight. But I will not go looking for a battle like you do." Your voice was low and calm, eyes looking down your nose as you spoke to Txonu- something he found immensely disrespectful, although you couldn't find it in yourself to care as you walked away from him.
Your escape route had you passing by the Sully family, making Neteyam look up at you as you walked quickly. Within a split second, he was able to catch the glint of unshed tears in your eyes as you bowed your head. Thoughtlessly, he stood up to follow you making Neytiri raise her eyebrows at her eldest's actions. Jake opened his mouth to say something, but was distracted by Kiri placing her hand on his shoulder. She gave him a pointed look making her dad furrow his eyebrows before shaking his head and turning to say something to Neteyam, only to be met with empty space- he was already gone.
Sand was kicked with each step as you walked to a more secluded side of the beach. With a rush of anger you fell to your knees, clawing at the sand and grabbing at anything you could find only to roughly throw it away from you with choked sobs. It was only when a body crashed into yours that you were brought back to reality, everything crushing down and crumbling at your feet.
Neteyam pulled you onto his lap as you cried, pushing your face into his chest. His hand came up to hold your head to his body, large palm trying to barricade you from the outside world as he pressed his lips against your head.
"Mawey, Y/N, mawey." He spoke into your hair, rocking you back and forth.
Your cries subsided at not only the sound of his voice, but the feeling of him speaking, the vibrations moving through his chest and to your ears.
"What is wrong, yawntu?"
You shut your eyes, letting your deepest thoughts come up and form words on your tongue.
"I can't do everything they ask of me. I cannot watch over my siblings and be a warrior and learn to live with Txonu. I can't even eat with him without wanting to pluck his eyes out, I don't like him." You sniffled.
Neteyam thought for a moment, "I'll take you back to the forest with me."
You smiled softly, allowing yourself to indulge in the fantasy.
"You can be my tsahik, I will be Olo'eyktan...nothing will bother us."
The image had been drawn in your mind, making you nostalgic for something you've never had. If only it were that simple, but you knew better, you knew that were to mate with Txonu, Neteyam and his family would venture back to the forest after the threat of the sky people was extinguished- and this was the better outcome. Your mind lets you wander, only for a moment, to the possibility that the Sully's may never leave, instead you'd be forced to watch Neteyam choose another Metkayina woman as his mate. You'd be forced to celebrate their union as Txonu drove the dagger further into your heart, approving the pair along with his tsahik's blessing.
Neteyam could tell what you were thinking is causing you great pain. The way your face dropped and eyebrows knitted together, he could tell it was nothing good and made it his mission to rid your mind of such awful thoughts.
"Come on." He said, moving you so he could stand up before grabbing your hands and pulling you up.
You grunted, "Where are we going?"
Neteyam smiled, "Our cove, feast is almost over, people will be out."
"No," You protested, pulling on his arm. "Our parents would drown us if they realize that we're missing. That we are both missing at the same time."
Neteyam inhaled before speaking, a feeling settling in his bones, energizing his recklessness that he had only become acquainted with after meeting you.
"I've never found anything worth the punishment...not until I found you."
You shook your head, "Nete-"
"No. I would follow you anywhere. My eyes blinded and hands tied, I'd follow you, oeyä yawntu."
Again, you found it difficult to form words as emotions crashed over you. Never had anyone spoken so passionately to you- your heart ached.
No words seemed to be enough, but Neteyam didn't need words as he led you to exit the reef.
༺♡༻
Neteyam tiptoed back into his family's marui, praying to Eywa that everyone was asleep and he could deal with a scolding in the morning.
"Have fun?"
Neteyam shut his eyes, his stomach dropping at the sound of his father's voice.
"Dad-sir. I am sorry, I was just talking to a friend." Neteyam tried to explain in a hushed tone, everyone else was sleeping.
Jake pursed his lips nodding, "I saw the look in your eyes."
"What look-"
"She's spoken for, boy. What do you think you're doing?" Jake spoke, volume rising slightly, voice strained.
Neteyam shook his head, "Dad, I-"
"How do you think this is going to end? It's not gonna be a happy ending, Neteyam." Jake pleaded, standing up to walk closer to his son.
Neteyam growled, turning away from his dad trying to wave him off and ignore the worries that gnawed at his insides now being voiced.
A lump formed in Neteyam's throat, a feeling of dread coating his heart. He turned back around to look at his dad, eyes now pooling with tears.
Jake was taken aback, he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Neteyam cry. In an effort to comfort his son, he put his hand to Neteyam's cheek, holding his face as his tears fell.
"I love her, dad. I see her. All of her. Everything she is, I see it." Neteyam choked out.
Another wave of tears fell from his amber eyes as his dad pulled him into his chest, holding him just like he would when he was a child.
Jake felt his heart break, "It's ok. It's ok. We' ll figure this out."
Neteyam gestured toward his heart, palm coming up to tap over his chest, "It feels like there are stones in my heart."
Arms tightened around Neteyam's frame, Jake sniffled at his kid's words, "I know. I wish I could fix this." He pulled away from the hug to face his son, "I wish I could take this pain away, son."
"The Great Mother wouldn't bring her into my life just to take her away." Neteyam mumbled
Surely, Eywa was not this cruel?
༺♡༻
taglist
@halibanana @thebestrouge @meepmeepbark @ssc7514 @orinlin @sully-stick-together @fanfics-welcome @babyvinnie @an0th3rsss @crimsonincursive
a/n: im pretty sure these are all the people that wanted to be tagged (I am so sorry if I missed you)
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WarTrophy! Reader x Warlord
With a post-apocalyptic twist. I was gonna do the usual medieval style thing for the warlord, but I got inspired by Mad Max: Thunder Dome (An amazing movie), to do post apocalyptic sorta thing. Any way hope you enjoy!
TW: Gn!reader, Verbal and somewhat physical SA, grubby and sleezy male characters. Reader is from a well looked after community, therefore when the Warlord and his raiders come to town, chaos erupts. Violence, murder, battle and raiding, reader given fem pet names but no gender described. In my mind this is canonically set in Australia, because I am Australian and also mad max is set in Australia and also post-apocalyptic fiction just makes sense when set in Australia. Also reader has nickname blue
They came in the night. No warning, no threat along the horizon. Just pure violence coming to reek havoc in the moonless night. You were awoken to the sounds of screaming, cries burning at your ears. Jumping to your feet you rushed to your window, over looking the community of survivors and refuges. Death was everywhere. The town was alight with flames, the warning siren howling over the sound of shrieks and bellows of fear. You stood in shock and incomprehension for a moment, the shacks, houses and huts were being ransacked by men dressed in camouflaged uniforms. Men and women who tried to defend their homes were being cut down where they stood, or dragged away by their hair. Children were left to fend for themselves, some crying amongst the flames, watching their parents being slaughtered. Loud banging broke you from the spell you were under, someone was trying to break down your door.
"Open up!" A man yelled, continuing to try to kick the scrap metal that made your door. It wouldn't take long, it was barely put together. A split second decision was made in your mind. You couldn't stay where you were, you couldn't even stop to make a plan, or grab anything of use. You had to run, and quickly. Still in your sleepwear, you raced through your house, opening your back down with a grunt, just as your front door was slammed open. You rushed into the back alley, stunned by the destruction laid waste upon your town. You turned your back on your friends, family, community and rushed into the darkness of the buildings, leaving your town to burn.
This town was never truly meant to be a town. Before the Collapse it had been a nothing more than a water treatment plant. In the days and weeks after the collapse, people began flocking to its promise of water. Somehow ever after the loss of electricity, the plant still held thousands of litres of water, making it a refuge for all those who survived the end of the world.
You had been one of the very first to arrive, you had been fortunate to arrive with your parents and a few members of your extended family. You and your family practically built this town, saved this community. There was a reason why people knew who you were, why they moved out of the way as you walked past. It was your family this town was named after, your blood that raised it from ash.
And yet here you were, hiding in the shadows. Running for your life. Granted, there wasn't much you could do. The town lived in peace for so long that only the town militia were tasked with defence. Over the years, bullets, and gunpowder, became in short supply, leaving the hunks of metal once called guns useless. Most were melted down to make melee weapons, are fashioned into more primitive form of muskets. In many ways your town turned back into the past to strive for a better future. Most things were run on steam or water powered. Limited supply of gunpowder was made using items traded with other surviving communities. People turned back to the ways of their fore parents, hunting and farming. Life was good. Until it wasn't.
You came to a sudden halt, quickly hiding behind wooden boxes against the wall. The masked, camouflaged men ran past, yelling orders to one another. You grimaced as you saw a selective few were armed with guns. Pre-collapse guns. Either they were just for show, or someone very smart and determined figured out how to make them work in a time such as these. Most, however, had musket-like weapons and machetes and knives. At least you knew if it came down to it, there was a chance that you just had to be quicker than your assailant rather than having to dodge a bullet to survive.
After they run past, you quickened towards the wooden wall that encircled your town. In some places it was reinforced with steel and rock, but it would take decades to finally make a proper defensive structure. As the child of the founding family, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Once, when the wall was still being erected, and nothing but a metal fence separated you and the raiders of the new world, you had found a hole in the fence. Big enough that you and your childhood friend had been able to sneak out of town into the great unknown. Even when they began to reinforce it with wood and steel, you made sure the hole was still uncoverable.
You landed on your knees in front of where you remembered the hole to be. Footsteps were hurrying towards you. Raiders, friends or terrified civilians, you did not know. You focused purely on pushing the scrap of metal from covering the hole, leaning down, you pushed with all your might the large rock you had shimmed into place last time you had snuck out. It had been years since you had down so, it was just before Red had left, there was no need to sneak out anymore if he wasn't there to follow. You crawled through the hole, end in sight. The hole feeling much smaller than it did as a child. You knew your family would make it out. They would have to, right? So would friends and comrades. They were smart. Like you. They knew when to abandon ship.
If there had been a warning then of course you would have stayed, till the very end. Your task for the community was Peacemaker, a diplomate of this new crazed world. You were quite good at it too. Negotiation and diplomacy your strongest skills. If they had given warning, maybe you could reason with them, maybe no one had to have died. But raiders that come in the dark of night, killing all they willed , were not the sort of combatant you stayed around to reason with. Your task was to live, to survive, then to come back and rebuild. Always rebuild, as your parents had done all those years ago.
The metal of the broken fence dug into your hips, bringing forth a hiss of pain from your lips. You pushed through the pain, cursing as the metal dug deeper and deeper. With one last gasp, you heaved your hips through the fence, feeling the metal rip at the fabric of your clothes. Just as you were about to get up, run straight for the safety of the wilderness, a harsh grip landed on your ankle. Before even a thought could pass through your mind. You were dragged back, with force, through the hole. You screamed and kicked. Hands digging into the ground, fingers and nails desperately trying to find a hold in the soft dirt. You were flipped over. A man leering down at you.
"Ain't you a pretty thing, aye?" he sneered, his mouth opening in a wicked smile, showcasing missing and yellowed teeth. You scrunched your face in disgust, both at the sight in front of you and his hand gripping tighter onto your ankle. You were about to use your free leg to give him a swift kick, but the sight of a large hunting knife in his hand made you pause. He followed your gaze to it.
"Aw don't worry love, I'm not gonna use this thing on you, long as ya don't make a fuss." His smile grew, showcasing more blacked and cracked teeth. His face was a red blotchy colour, sweat dripped from his forehead, his weak chin wobbled as he spoke. In the fire light you could see the red veins of his eyes.
You tested his grip on you, trying to catch him unaware. Instead it backfired, resulting in him sitting on top of you, letting your ankle go.
"You be good for me sweets and I'll try to be as gentle as I can yeah?" he chuckled, your blood running cold. This man wanted something from you and there was no reason in the world that would stop him. You cannot reason with an evil man. You began to shriek, preferring him to killing you now than to suffer the injustice of his touch.
"Nobodies coming to save ya darl', Best ya get used to being on your back for me, it's gonna be real familiar by the time I get tired of you. Make me cum enough and I might just keep you" he leaned down against you, tongue licking up along your cheek. You began to trash harder, screaming. Begging. Praying. For anything, for anyone to came save you. He laughed at your misery, lifting him self back up to undo his belt.
"You ready for me to make you my whor-" a gargle where words should follow. You watched in shock as a knife was plunged in the back of his skull. Blood splattered down on you, your mouth open wide in fear and relief. You scrambled back as the evil man fell forward. You backed up against the wall, you could feel the wind blowing through the hole, your escape route still open. You started to make a mad dash for the opening, not thinking or even able to process what had happened, only focusing on what might have happened, what that man was intent on doing.
In a sick sense of Deja vu, you were once ripped from the opening. You were a bundle of feet and hands punching and kicking in all directions, your voice was hoarse from screaming bloody murder. A strong set of arms pulled you against them, and you fought like hell to be free.
"It's alright blue, its alright" came a familiar and calming voice. Only one person called you that in favour of your real name. You opened your eyes, there he was. Alive, breathing and surrounded by masked, camouflaged men.
"Red?" you whispered, not daring to shatter this illusion that he was still alive, that he had found his way back to you. You must be going mad. That evil man must have killed you, or you died in the smoke and flames burning your town. You blinked, pinched yourself. Even reached a hand to touch his face.
"It's me blue" he smiled, a perfect, lovely smile. Just as you remembered.
The men behind him shifted, causing you to panic, you grabbed red's hand and tried to run. You weren't gonna lose him again.
Instead of running into the fray once more, you were pulled back to red's arms.
"Red! We have to go! They'll kill us, please!" You begged, eyes looking into his warm brown ones. He places his hands on your arms, essentially trapping you were you stood.
"Red?" you questioned, why wasn't he worried, why weren't the men descending on you both with knifes raised. What was going on?
The fires had begun to die down, the screaming and crying was replaced with whispers of fear and a few sobs cried into the night. The warning siren slowed down to a halt.
"Red?" you whispered, not a question but a plea.
'Please still be the boy I knew before'
He looked down into your eyes, a sigh making its way pasted his lips.
He turns to his men.
"Bring all the prisoners to the town centre, no one is to harm the survivors unless I deem so. That includes coercing or forcing yourselves onto anyone. Understand?" he orders. His men giving a quick nod and salute before turning into the dying lights of the fire.
"No" you exclaim.
No, no, no, no, no
You shake your head, tears threatening to fall.
"You are one of them?" you gasp. The boy you knew as a child, the boy you had come to love, the boy who disappeared into the night, on a night eerily similar to this, returned as a raider, a killer, a monster.
A gives you a slight smirk, hands gripping you tighter.
"I'm not just one of them blue, I command them, I rule them" he boasts. A wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Traitor" you hiss. "You fucking monster! You absolute fucking bastard!"
Your anger overwhelmed whatever love you still had for him. Curled fists began attacking him, aiming for the face, when that wasn't enough to quell your fury, you tried scratching out his eyes. A pain seared across your face, you became unbalanced and fell on the very man who had threatened you a mere minute ago. Red had slapped you, caused you pain. One might argue you deserved it, lashing out like that. Most would say that's fucking irrelevant since he caused the destruction and violent occupation of your town.
"C'mon blue, you really gonna act out? I was being so nice too. Saved you from this fucker didn't I? Could've just let him have you" he pouted, head tilting to watch you try standing back up, giving the man's body a small kick while doing so. You balked at the sight of the evil man, his eyes still unnerving, even more so that he is dead, the movement of Red's kick, gave you the sick impression he was still alive.
A dangerous idea spread into your mind. The hunting knife lay unclaimed next to you. Red was unarmed as far as you could tell. You clasped the knife in a hurry, but before being able to take a slash or even stand up, Red's boot came crushing down onto your wrist. You squealed in pain, releasing the knife in a instant. His free boot kicked the knife away.
"Is that anyway to welcome home an old mate?" he tsked, "I know its been a few years, but come on blue, really? This? Trying to take me out with a knife?"
"What the fuck Red" you gasped, boot still crushing your wrist. "What the hell is going on, raiding? Seriously? this town was your home! How could you turn on us like that. How-how could you turn on me?" Pain, both physical and emotional rushed through your voice, once more tears began to spring, from the pain or the torment of knowing that your best friend was responsible for the death of dozens in your community.
"C'mon Blue! It ain't personal. Just the business of surviving. You think it brings me joy to burn this place to the ground? I mean to be honest it kinda does, but you know that story. But we don't have time to talk about that, right now you and I have a speech to get to." he grins, dark and cold. No way this is the curly haired kid you knew as a child. Red back then could barely kick a toad than massacre innocent civilians.
You let out a sigh of relief as he removes his boot. Only to let out a yelp in surprise as you are thrown over his shoulder.
"Let me go!" you cry, wiggling and worming in his hold.
"Not yet love! Got places to see and people to humiliate" his deranged laugh filled the silent streets you called home.
Before you only were able to see the destruction from a window still, or when you were at the edges of the fight. But now, now you saw everything. You watched in sorrow as you passed the bakery, still blazing alone, as the houses and shakes next to it had been pulled down. The school had been ransacked, pages and books lining the street in silent array. Childs' drawings danced lifelessly across the ground in the breeze.
Without even seeing where he was taking you, you knew where you were going. The town centre. A magnificent fig tree, alone in its splendour made for quite the impressive centre piece of the town. Speeches, weddings, announcements, birthdays and funerals were all held under its comforting branches. It calmed you to still see it still standing. Leaves fell with a hush down from its branches, as if it was crying watching the town that loved it go up in smoke.
You could hear your townspeople's whispers of fear and confusion as the watched you be carried into line of sight. You could see most of the towns population was still alive. The small group of men who were spared were pushed to one side, guarded heavily, despite being made up of elders, young boys, and a few injured men. The cluster of women and children were larger. You could see your friends and family in both groups. All accounted for, thank goodness. You were placed onto the ground and given to two guards, both quickly clasping onto your arms like their lives depended on it. You were off to the side, as Red sauntered his way to front and centre. He always loved being the centre of attention.
"Good people! How's it going?" he exclaimed, arms open wide and a smile gracing his lips. You could see confusion, vague recognition and just plain hatred line people's faces. More importantly you saw your parents both looking at you in absolute despair. You gave them a short smile and a nod, taking a deep breath when they followed suit.
Red began to speak again.
"Some of you may remember me, other's may not. I was one of you once, another member of this pathetic, weak society. You have no strength, despite your numbers. No courage or skill in warfare. Just a load of farmers, tradesmen and women. If this was any other town I would slaughter you all" he grins as if he is discussing a lovely day spent at the beach. Whispers become murmurs. Murmurs become barely contained talks of a massacre, of your towns soon extinction. You began to take shallower, faster breaths.
"Alright, calm down everyone. Maybe we need to work on our listening skills, aye? Now, let's put on our listening caps everyone. I said if you were any other town. Lucky for you bastards I actually like you guys! I had a good run here. Made some lovely mates" a pointed look thrown in your direction. "And was pretty well looked after, well until, you know. So in honour of the good times I had here. I have a compromise for you all." He clasps his hands together, and teeters back and froth from his toes to his heels.
"My men and I have already killed a whole bunch of ya, so how bout we move on from that, aye? You guys are gonna have to boost your numbers after my little stunt, and who better than the very people who massacred your friends and family!" looks of bitter disgust flow across the crowd.
"Yikes, bit of a tough crowd yeah. Alright look, the fellas and I used to have a pretty good place. But the waters run dry and also we're getting up in years, and so we're looking for a place to settle down. To have people to settle down with. So yeah we killed a whole bunch of your men, but hey! We're here to replace that gap. Maybe even help you guys with the whole defence side of things. I mean were those soldier fellas of yours even trained? They were easier to kill than a dead roo!" he barks out a laugh, his men following suit.
'What the fuck is wrong with him' you thought. Clearly years in the bush led to insanity.
"Oh! Before I forget" he stares in your direction, slowly making his way over. You squirm under his gaze uncomfortably. "If you little shits try any sort of rebellion or some shit like that. I'll slit their pretty little throat."
In a moment he brings a knife close to your throat. You reach your chin up, desperate to remove the icy sensation away from you. You look at where his eyes are directed, straight towards your mother, then slowly transferred to your father. Without their approval, any hope of rebellion or uprising is dashed. You are the perfect hostage.
"Great! Glad we could have this chat. So go have a good ole' sleep. Got a whole day of cleaning up to do tomorrow!" he beams, pulling the knife away just as quickly as he produced it. He turns his back on the towns people, grabbing your arm from one of the guards. You are dragged past the fig tree towards the council hall, located within the old water treatment plant. It is then you see how truly outnumbered you were. Nearly over a hundred men, all masked and camouflaged, line the water treatment plant, even with the men who were killed, there was no way your town could have fought them off.
You pulled back from Red, trying to get him to release his grasp.
"What is it blue? Thought you'd be happier to see your childhood mate"
"Fuck you, you dog" you spit, anger clear as day.
Red halts, and turns to you.
"Don't make me hurt you again."
It wasn't what he said, more so than how he said it. He's eyes lost their humanity, his features fell into sudden darkness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were looking into the eyes of an evil man.
You gave a quick nod, hoping he would lose interest.
"Good!" he cheers, and goes back into dragging you up the steps to the plant.
"Ya know I've never had a war trophy before" he mumbles
"Pardon?" confusion across your face turning into disgust
"You, your a war trophy." he deadpans as if its the simplest thing in the world to understand.
"I'm not a trophy" you grumble
"Cause you are, pretty enough, and you really think I'm ever gonna let you outta my sight again Blue? I've been dreaming about this day for years."
You carefully gazed up at him, his grasp on you had begun to soften.
He notices your confusion, or want for an explanation at the very least.
"You really think I would attack this place for water? Or for my men's retirement plan? Nah, blue. I burnt this town down for you, and I'd do it ten times over if you just asked."
It is then you are reminded of the skinny, lanky boy you made friends with as a child. Your mother used to laugh and call him your dog, when your father said it, he said it with annoyance. It was true, Red followed you around like a pup, always doing what you wanted and when. You didn't like remembering the day he left, mainly cause he was practically run out of town. It just took a slip of your tongue, it was an accident after all. You were a child, and didn't realise that sometimes words were dangerous. You didn't realise how much Red took your words to heart, or how much he cared to.
' Red, sometimes I just wish...'
'What blue? Tell me, I'll make it true'
'Well I just wish he was dead!'
You knew Red was being perfectly honest when he said he would burn this town down if you asked. He had already tried before.
I don't know about the ending or if reader is really a war trophy but the words came and i just put them down.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere drabble#yandere prompts#gn!reader#yandere x gn!reader#tw violence#murder#oc#SA
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The Annual Roast Turkey Hunt
The people of Amity Park had resorted to all sorts of Guerilla warfare and improvised weaponry while fighting off the GIW.
One of the most effective tactics was unleashing the Fentons' cooking on unsuspecting patrols. As the Siege continued and more people became directly involved in the fighting, more cooks joined their crusade.
Which is how, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Pamela Manson "accidentally" unleased 5 roasted turkeys on some of the GIW high command after they forced her to quarter them in the mansion. This proved to be a critical distraction that allowed the commanders to be captured without casualties.
After the battle was over, Pamela confessed that she had intended to send the turkeys to the Casper refuge before the GIW turned her home into their new base and apologized for wasting so much food as weaponry.
Her daughter, Sam, told her not to worry. Ectoplasm was a marvelous preservative and the turkeys would be perfectly edible once they had been slaughtered a second time.
The turkeys were transported to Casper High and on Thanksgiving Day group of 30 volunteers fought them to a second death and carved the remains up for the rest of the refugees. (Some sources say that Pamela participated in the carving and actually tore a wing off the largest bird with her teeth).
This was one of the greatest victories of the Siege and a moment of light-hearted fun in a dark time.
To commemorate this event, the City Council made the Roasted Turkey Hunt into a city holiday (Vlad tried to veto on account of cleanup costs, but was outvoted)
Every year the people of Amity Park gather to present their turkeys for reanimation and hunters fight them to a second death and serve the remains to the audience. There are contests for the largest bird, the best presented bird, the tastiest bird, and the most aggressive bird as well as a prize for who can collect the most wishbones.
Recent years also allow "flocks" of game birds such as pheasants and Cornish hens to be submitted.
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America isn't the only nation where immigrants are being given aid above its own citizens. The UK is actively placing immigrants over its own citizens for financial aid, housing and healthcare. UK families have been on housing lists for months but immigrant families are housed within days to weeks. Our healthcare is free so immigrants are flocking here and combined with the crippled state of our healthcare system already, I've been waiting literal months for a basic GP appointment while the as part of aid initiatives, immigrants are being given priority.
And no, I am absolutely not saying we should not help people, or that people shouldn't come to the UK and be helped, because I absolutely believe that people fleeing volatile countries and situations have a basic right to be given refuge, but when they're fleeing to places that are already in a downward slide of taking care of the people who've lived there their entire lives, and it then begins to prioritise its already lacking resources not into diving care equally but into providing care for immigrants, its a problem.
Our NHS is already crippled and at risk of being made for-profit like America and with more and more people coming to the UK specifically for the free healthcare and more affordable living (which, trust me, its not so affordable anymore) we are literally running out of resources and people who've lived here their entire lives are losing out on housing, healthcare, financial aid and other resources because they're all being given to people seeking refuge. We can't keep going like this but our Government won't listen to us and won't work with other countries and Governments to help allocate resources, space and divide the number of people coming here. We're a small country. We don't have half the room America does or half the resources.
And you think the reason for all health, education, housing, public service, civic/arts, infrastructure, economic, etc funding being cut for British citizens, after 13 years of the Tories deliberately and extensively cutting all that funding, is because of......... immigrants?
#anonymous#ask#politics for ts#there is a lot going on here#not least the idea that immigrants have a great time and quick free resources in the uk#as someone who has lived/worked in the uk and still reads uk news every day: ?????????#'my country doesn’t have public services for its citizens after 13 years of ruthless tory cuts'#'this is because immigrants are taking all the resources from us!'#i mean. uh. hmmm. okay.#anyway. i should stop. but yes. okay.#uk politics
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@devotedhero liked for a starter from Charlie!
Surviving the nautiloid crash seemed like some big twist of fate, one that had her feeling particularly giddy as she coasted on some high for the past couple of hours. Truth be told, she almost didn't even process her worrisome reality. Goodness no! She had far too much to do before she could focus on that. Why should she when she could instead focus on lifting the spirits of the tieflings that sought refuge in the arms of druids?
Not all of them were warriors, those that were not could use a distraction. So, Charlie had taken up with her banjo, the pearlescent fingerboard glinting hypnotically in the sunlight as Charlie sang loud and proud.
Charlie knew that she had placed her fate in the hands of lady luck but as a bard she knew that a proper adventure required a group! Another thing she knew was that birds of a feather always flocked together. This grove was the closest thing to civilization near that crash site, all she needed to do was be patient.
Evidently it seemed that she owed lady luck a drink. During her performance a flash of armor drew her eyes away from the crowd. It is all the warning she got before her tadpole began to shake hands with another.
A crack in her voice signaled that she, too, felt the jarring pain yet she forced herself to weather through the rest of it. There are snippets of scenes dancing behind her eyes, glimpses of the very same nautiloid that had taken her. Yet she did not stop her song.
The show had to go on after all.
The song was almost to its natural end, Charlie could only hope that they would wait for her, she had a lot of thoughts she needed to share with them!
#devotedhero#; she who rises to the occasion (charlie)#; verse (another impossible song title | charlie act i)
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Was looking through my folder and found an art piece that I drew a few months back. Wanted to depict how I felt on an OC back then. Looking at it now, I actually like it so posting it.
#acedraws#my art#digital art#digital artwork#original art#original artwork#original character#oc#Blank#Refuge Flock
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It would be really funny if instead of flocking to tumblr, the twitter refuges revived myspace. Or, better yet, WE revived myspace. I mean, theres a section of tumblr dedicate to old web stuff already, so why not claim myspace as tumblr property?
Custom cursors on your page? Hell yeah.
Fancy pixelated graphics? GIve me those.
Brands? Nowhere to be found as far as I know.
Bonus: MySpace is probably not blocked through whatever site blocker or whatever your school/work/country is useing to limit your internet access.
Abandon Twitter. BUrn it the ground. Revive Myspace and raise it to the heavens.
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Here’s the thing. Theoden left instruction for Eowyn to rule if he (and presumably eomer because he lives and she doesn’t rule) dies in battle which he does. Eomer lives, however and he becomes king of Rohan.
But, I would dearly like to see a word where Eomer dies or abdicates or attends a femenism 101 class and elopes with a hot lady friend and leaves Eowyn to rule.
I want a badass Warrior queen. I want her to be twice the king her uncle was. I want women to flock to Rohan as a place of refuge. I want her to rebuild, stronger and better, and forge new alliances with Faramir supporting her all the way
I just can’t get over the fact that Theoden was ready and willing to let her rule. He knew she could do it. I want to see that.
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Israel says al-Quds Hospital will be bombed: Red Crescent
Oct 29th, 08:56 GMT
The Palestinian Red Crescent (PRCS) says it received “serious threats” from the Israeli forces to “immediately evacuate the al-Quds Hospital as it is going to be bombed”.
Since this morning, there have been bombs dropping 50 metres from the hospital, a statement on X said.
The hospital is located in the Tel al-Hawa area of Gaza City.
Footage shows crowds, displaced people at al-Quds Hospital
Oct 29th, 13:24 GMT
Aerial footage of al-Quds Hospital shows significant gathering of displaced individuals seeking refuge in the hospital’s courtyards.
Hospital authorities report receiving five warnings from the Israeli army, with warnings that the premises will be bombed imminently.
The hospital is located in Tal al-Hawa, in Gaza City, and affiliated with the Palestinian Red Crescent.
Hundreds of citizens have flocked to the hospital as it continues to admit victims of the ongoing Israeli bombardment in Gaza.
The footage, shot hours before the Israeli threats and obtained by Al Jazeera on Sunday, also reveal the presence of ambulances and medical teams stationed at the hospital’s entrance.
The hospital is sheltering 12,000 displaced civilians, with a majority being children and women.
Israeli air strikes hit close to al-Quds Hospital
Oct 29th, 13:35 GMT
Youmna ElSayed, reporting from Gaza
I live close to the al-Quds Hospital so the bombardment around it were pretty loud.
Because the kind of bombardments that are being conducted – air strikes or tank shells – are very powerful, they have an impact not just their targets but also their surrounding areas.
The hospital has not been directly hit, but areas around it have been targeted. This has caused a great amount of fear among patients.
The director of the hospital said they will not evacuate because doing so could result in death of patients, including the premature babies in incubators, and of those in the ICU unit. All of them, plus those taking shelter, total around 14,000 people.
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Florenci Pla Meseguer "La Pastora", intersex antifascist hero
One of the most famous maquis (guerrilla fighters against Franco's dictatorship) is Florenci Pla Maseguer.
(thank you @neonbutchery for the suggestion)
He was born in a farmhouse in Vallibona, in the rural mountains in north of the Valencian Country, in 1917. His body did not fit the categories of either male nor female, so his family were left with the choice of what sex to register him as. His parents decided to register him as female so that he could avoid the mandatory military service.
He grew up in the farmhouse being a shepherd, and never went to school as was usual at the time for the rural working class. When he reached puberty, he developed male secondary sex characteristics.
When the fascists did a coup d'état in 1936, sparking the Spanish Civil War, he wanted offered himself as a volunteer to fight in the republican (=antifascist) army, and he thought that this way he would get officially registered as a man, but couldn't.
He kept dressing as a woman until he was 30 years old, but always felt a man. In his words (originally in Catalan in this interview in El Temps from 1988):
Interviewer: What did you think of your sexual condition? Did it cause you any worries?
Florenci: Problems...? Mainly because of the beard. They said I was half man and half woman, but I never felt a woman. I still remember the first time I dreamed I had an affair with a woman, when I was 13 (...)
I: Have you always felt a man?
F: Always, and I have always liked men's jobs and being registered as a man. In fact, when I walked the flock I carried a sarró [=a kind of bag], like men, and not a basket like women.
He kept wearing women's clothes until he was 30, when he joined the maquis. By then, it was 1947; the fascists had won the war in 1939 and, as a result, Spain and its occupied territories were ruled by Franco's fascist dictatorship, which persecuted the political dissidence, the national minorities (such as Catalans-Valencians) and their languages, and everyone who didn't fit the strict normative and nationalcatholic morale, prominently LGBTQI+ people and women who didn't limit themselves to the roles that the patriarchal society considered fit. The maquis were the armed resistance.
I: How did you change the flock for the maquis?
F: Since I lived in the mountains, I had sometimes talked to them. On a snowy night, three maquis took refuge in a house that was only inhabited in summer -El Cabanil- but one of them ran away -one who was from Morella- and everywhere he went, he spread the word, he snitched it. And the Civil Guard [=the regime's military police] followed their clue until they found them and burned the house down, because they were resisting. The next morning, they arrested El Cabanil's owner and I got nervous because I worked for him, and I decided to escape out of fear of being killed.
I: Was it because of the fear of reprisals or for the humiliations to which the Civil Guard put you through?
F: Yes, that determined it, too. That was on the morning of the same day they burned down El Cabanil, and it was "teniente Mangas" [="lieutenant" Mangas, which he says in Spanish], six guards and two militiamen, one from Torremiró and the other one from Herbesset.
I: And what did they do to you exactly?
F: They were curious to know how could a shepherd girl be half man and half woman. I had sold thrushes to the militiamen, and they told the Civil Guard about my anomaly. Teniente Mangas ignored all rules and made me take off my clothes, until their curiosity was fulfilled. And when they were done, they said "bueno, a hacer bondad" ["well, behave" in Spanish, as a way to say goodbye]. And I felt so much rage, so much helplessness.
(...)
I joined [the guerrilla] and I dressed as a man. There, I was a man like any other.
From then on, he lived as a man and named himself Florenci, though he was known with other nicknames like "Durruti" (after the famous anarchist leader) and, most famously "La Pastora" (the shepherd).
He ended up living in Andorra, but a journalist for the Spanish tabloid El Caso published about him, attributing to him the crimes committed by other maquis, even ones that he had never met. For this reason, La Pastora became famous in all of Spain and the police intensified the search. The Andorran police turned him in to the Spanish police in 1960, accusing him of robbery, banditry and terrorism. He was judged twice for the same crimes: a tribunal sentenced him to 40 years of prison and the other one sentenced him to death and later changed it to 30 years of prison.
He spent 17 years in prison. First, in a women's prison where the women (and him) had to wear very tight miniskirts. He was later moved to a men's jail, where the case was further investigated. The detective saw that there was no proof and that the story didn't match up, so it was impossible that Florenci had committed these crimes. He was freed with a pardon in 1977 and the detective officially registered him as a man.
Despite the slander published by the press, when he came back to his hometown Vallibona, everyone came down to the village from their farmhouses to greet him. He died in 2004, at 86 years old.
Nowadays, Florenci "La Pastora" is by far one of the most famous maquis, if not the single most famous one. He is talked about in songs, books and documentaries, and has become an icon of the antifascist resistance.
#història#país valencià#florenci pla meseguer#la pastora#uselesslgbtfacts#maquis#history#intersex#intersex history#queer history#queer#lgbt history#lgbtq#lgbtq history#antifascist#working class history#antifascism#guerrilla#20th century history
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Dekarios the Divine
Read on Ao3 | Path 3 | Master List
At long last! I am hoping to continue the God Gale series, this being the soft launch of Dekarios the Divine. Enjoy! :)
Summary: Picking up after Path 3, the reader follows Dekarios the Divine in his ascension and experience as a God. Angst, fluff, God Gale content ahead.
Word of Dekarios the Divine spread through Faerûn, scorching the earth as its tendrils hooked into mortal and immortal alike. Countless from across the sword coast whispered of the mortal who became God after felling the Absolute. The mortal who shook his fist to the skies and demanded more, and thus took it. Many did not believe - at first - but Galerian scripture was most enticing to be sure. It appealed to human emotion and temptation in ways many other Gods could not. The allure of what He offered was too expansive.
These teachings spoke to those with lofty ambitions and they began to sculpt shrines, temples, and the like in His image. Ambition was as engrained in mortality as lust, love, and friendship.
Ambition.
Galerian scripture preached persistence, striving, and effort - to find the will to pursue the wildest dreams to make them a reality. Although the dust had yet to settle and Ao had yet to grant Him the ability to bestow powers among loyal followers, He knew the time would come as did they. They flocked like gulls to feed, desperate for the powers He would one day bestow.
Many sought refuge in His teachings out of their own desperate need for more, for power, to achieve their sometimes impossible goals, and others because the tragedy of severe loss spoke to their weary souls. There was a somberness to him that spoke to the downtrodden, the hopeless, those wallowing in immeasurable grief.
A tragic tale of life and loss because of a mortal’s, now God’s, hubris and folly. It appealed to to those who found solace in despair and hopelessness. He was the God of ambition, yes, and also one of mourning the cost of such greatness.
Dekarios served as the somber warning to men and mortals across Faerûn of the immeasurable cost of unchecked ambition.��
What was it, to be a God? Gale was not the first mortal to rise to Godhood - Myrkle, Baahl, and Bane were once mortal men, too. Mystra herself was a mortal girl before she rose in Her image again.
He thought often of how to explain this transition to human kind, to translate the complexities of ascension for his followers to comprehend. Their minds were so much simpler, finite, and the concepts required to even begin to grapple with Godhood were far beyond most mortal subjects. Even He had not fully understood before ascension. He thought he had, but as mortals insist they are right, He knew he would have to find an adequate translation.
The closest comparison he arrived at was being born a fresh babe put up to solve complex algorithms against a grown mortal being. The mental capacity, the power, it would collapse the feeble human mind just as a grown adult would overpower a baby.
There was no feeling. Memory as elusive as the mortal body he was once confined to, the sensations of humanity fading without so much as a murmur.
He was among the first to have taken a mortal life at the moment of ascension. It shifted the balance of His essence, dooming to be off-kilter until wrongs could be righted. Some could never be so.
Gods do not experience existence as mortals do, that is clear. Or, it should be. While mortals may fixate on one another’s quirks like the sound of their laugh, how how they furrow their brow as they concentrate, the act of and feeling the sensation of falling love, enjoying the simple pleasures of the warmth of the sun, a cool breeze, a fresh loaf of crusty bread… None of these held significance to the Gods for the triviality of mortals was not of or for them.
Thus, things like regret and nostalgia were not experiences He had. There were memories, but when all of time and space is laid out before you ad infinitum, getting bogged down in simple happenings was wasteful.
Gale saw this clearly now. Mystra was an unkind lover to him as a mortal because she had no conceptual understanding of being one, their fleeting emotions and turbulent, petulant demands were amusing to Them. Gale Dekarios was gone, he left and died with you. Even had you been spared, his mortality would never return.
Dekarios now saw clearly how twisted his relationship to Mystra was, how she lured men and boys to her domain with the ruse of magic and granting unmatched ability and talent. It was sadistic how she toyed with them, with their emotions, with their dreams, dangling Chosen before them to mislead them into submission. Gods went through mortal play-things as quickly as a toddler goes through stages of excitement over a new toy. Exhilarating at first and quickly growing tired and uninteresting.
He vowed to keep mortals and himself at a careful distance, though in time perhaps this would yeild.
Yes, although Gods may have been mortal at a point in time, once one ascends one’s humanity fades into the ether. Instead, it is replaced with sensations of balance and order. As Dekarios the Divine, God of Ambition, he would never know true balance. It was his solemn duty to enforce it wherever possible.
Gods, you see, do not experience emotion in the capacity of humans. While they may understand a plight and be able to offer judicious advice, the essence of a God was beyond mortal understanding. Gods could not empathize because mortal plights were trivial nothings. Gods can see all time spread out before them like a spherical expanse, seeing every possible thread and outcome as if it was so. Because, well, it was - at some space and time.
Thus, he influenced a version of himself, in another time and space, visiting in a dream as Mystra had during his mortal days so many times before. Although Gale could not feel relief necessarily, he felt the scales of balance shift in his favor, if only marginally, through this effort.
On occasion when the mood struck him, he would glance into this fabric of time in order to see what could have been. It was masochism in its finest and yet it brought him solace, a brief respite, to know that he was the man you needed him to be. If not in this time, in another..
Your death weighed on him inexplicably. It was a permanent ache, one that pulled at the threads of his now ethereal being, one that was woven into the very fabric of his creation. Comparable to the orb in his mortal body, the memory of you festered within him. To take the life of a mortal as a God is not looked fondly upon by Ao. But, Dekarios fell in a strange, illusive gray space. It was determined his eternal suffering, his internal unsteadiness, was adequate punishment for the transgression.
It was not often, but sometimes Dekarios was filled with a sensation that was close to regret. In those moments, his followers and clerics felt it acutely and understood. Their shrines would get an overhaul and dusting, new offerings and prayers of alms sent.
Those were also the moments he would inspect the fabric of time to find moments with you. These other realities, some where you dissuaded him from pursuing the crown at all, the more moments of these he found the greater balance was restored to him.
But Gods were not meant to explore these other realities so intricately. The echos of his curiosity reverberated, like a string plucked, and Ao’s retribution was swift.
When he received contact from Withers, he had been as close as a God could feel to surprise.
#god gale#god gale fic#gale fanfic#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 gale#baldurs gate 3#gale#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 brainrot#gale angst#baldurs gate gale#gale fanfiction#god gale bg3#gale bg3#gale romance
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*IMPORTANT* updates from Let's Talk Palestine's free broadcast channel on their Instagram page:
December 1st, 4:34am, EST:
🚨‼️ Israel mass bombing Gaza as truce expires
• Attacks started 5 hours ago as Israel insists that its genocidal goals haven’t changed
• Dozens of people have already been killed across Gaza.
• Israel dropped leaflets in southern city Khan Younis threatening people to flee to Rafah City, which is at the Egyptian border. But the south seems to have a higher death toll than both northern & central Gaza as Israel bombs it intensely
• “Tens of thousands” flocked to Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis to take refuge
• Palestinian resistance fighters are confronting Israeli apartheid forces in intense clashes in Gaza City, and are firing rockets at Israel in response to the bombardment
• Mansour Shoman, a man from Khan Younis says that despite everything “Palestinians are steadfast on their land here, they don’t want any repeat of 1948 and 1967. We are not leaving our land to go anywhere, we will try to strive against what the occupation here is doing.”
CEASEFIRE NOW.
They also provided this map of Gaza for context:
And this message:
👆 If you don’t know where Rafah, Khan Younis, and Gaza City are
This map’s population density is outdated though. It seems that a majority of the north’s population has been ethnically cleansed to the south. This means that the south’s population density has almost doubled since the start of the genocide.
End the violent occupation, ceasefire immediately and PERMANENTLY, and free Palestine 🇵🇸
#feminist#feminism#social justice#freepalastine🇵🇸#palestine#free palestine#free gaza#gaza strikes#gazaunderfire#gazaunderattack#settler violence#settler colonialism#colonial violence#colonialism#gaza update#current events#ceasefire now#ceasefire
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〖You go down just like Holy Mary, Mary on a, Mary on a cross. 〗
Alt! Gabriel x Reader
WARNINGS: Religious Imagery, Attempted Suicide, Manipulation?
But this, it wasn't normal.
Your heart beat almost 130 per minute, breath hitching at any given chance; almost as if a panic attack was threatening to happen at whatever moment.
You found odd presences of heat lacking in your house a well as chills running down your spine nearly anytime you were about to relax.
That's when such unfortunate message was broadcasted.
You could feel your chest being ripped open by your own pounding heart.
That such night you couldn't bring yourself to sleep, even if it was near a day that you last slept.
Even with the dread boiling inside you, maybe drowsiness was finally setting in you.
Or so you had thought.
You tried closing your eyes, but your vision only got brighter. You couldn't even tell if it was morning anymore, you just felt brightness pierce through your eyelids.
But, the mistake was for you to open your eyes.
There stood before you, a creature, not sure to be recognized as a human or, angel.
"Do not be afraid, my child"
Oh but you were afraid. A frightened black sheep, in need of guidance from an angel. An archangel at that.
You could almost feel your mind completely shatter, not processing such entity being nearly next to you.
"Please, I don't know what you want or who you are but please, leave"
This, "Angel" only came closer to you, inches away from your face.
An almost deranged grin spread across its face, reaching the very tips of its eyes.
"My child, do not fret. I am merely but an Angel, here to bring you a message"
This was but a facade. You wouldn't be deceived by such creature. Or so you had wished.
.
Now, you were sure that night hadn't happened. An angel did not visit you, for it was all just a dream. Right?
More despair only came upon you however.
You couldn't comprehend such entity, even if it really was a mere hallucination or dream. This confusion only drove you to what seemed to be the brink of insanity.
Every morning after, you we're only left pondering. Thinking about what you had "seen".
And every morning, you felt closer compelled to what felt like the only true answer.
You sat down on you kitchen floor. barely recognizable anymore; all plates and cutlery stacked upon each other; the floor tiles filled with what seemed to be a mix of dust and mold.
You contemplated grabbing the now rusty knife, the slightest tip pointing at your stomach.
You knew it wouldn't take long, so, why we're you so afraid to do it?
There was no longer anything to live for if you had to "live" with the burden of this, insanity.
The point began tearing through your skin already, it was nowhere near severe yet you felt like fainting.
In such precise moment, you saw it, once more.
That, Angel. Alternate. Demon, even.
"Sweet dove, you mustn't do this."
-
Wasn't this what you were tasked to do?
You'd be satisfied for another human to die, soon to be replaced with its alternate.
But you just couldn't bring yourself to do these things to one of your flock.
These human like feelings had completely taken over you, dragging your own body closer this, black sheep.
You found yourself right behind such human, tightly gripping to the rusted knife, not exactly moving. Just stopping its motion.
"Child, you mustn't refuge to such selfish actions."
-
This angel's wings were now wrapped around you, holding you captive in a sea of feathers.
Th slightest of blood tainting the both of you, and as this ichor rushed, so did your adrenaline.
We're you going to die, now?
In the hands of an Angel?
"My child, be not afraid, your wounds shall be healed, never will you suffer this pain again"
You we're confused more than scared now.
"If you truly are an angel, why must you hav dragged me through Hell's insanity?"
It didn't respond, only held you tighter in its clasp.
"You are but a grain of golden sand, my pet. I must never let you slip through my fingers, into the deep. "
You choked out a sob, tears threatening to cascade.
"There is no need to cry, dear. You've sinned, but I love the sinner not the sin. "
Those whispers he told you only made waterfalls out of you.
"I don't understand why you've come to torment me, why must you drag me through hell only to say you love me?
Again, he remained silent. Incomprehensible whispers made themselves home in your now broken mind; there was really nothing for you to do now, only cry into its wings and beg for a fabricated forgiveness.
"Can't you see I've done this because I love you, my dove?"
#sus gabriel#alternate gabriel#mandela county#mandela catalogue#mandela catalogue gabriel#alt gabriel#sus gabriel x reader#alternate gabriel x reader#archangel gabriel#alex kister#analog horror
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