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#i'd be lying if i said i was sure which cauldron this is
hzdtrees · 2 months
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Machine-made
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sebastianswallows · 11 months
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Hello! Could I offer you a prompt? I often see fics about Ominis experiencing sight for the first time, but how about Slytherin!MC being the one afflicted with a temporary blindness, and now having to rely on Ominis for guidance, 'seeing' the world from his perspective? Maybe as a result of some unruly student's potion experiment? Thank you for your time and work!
Hello, nonny!
Thank you so much for an Ominis prompt! I love to write about this sweetest boy. And sorry this took so long, my dear 💚
Oh my though, I guess I don't read fics with him often enough, because I haven't noticed that many where he experiences sight. Not sure how I'd feel about those, because it... takes away from his character, sort of. I don't know.
Anyway! I have a fluffy little fic for you 😘 Hope you enjoy it!
I wrote it that it was all Garreth's fault, because of course.
— PAIRING: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC
— WARNINGS: none
— WORDCOUNT: 3.8k
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She cursed Garreth all the way to the Hospital Wing. The classroom was left in deathly silence after the Gryffindoor’s latest experiment had literally exploded in her face. Professor Sharp seemed… worried, but not very shocked. Clearly, things like that had happened before — especially since Garreth had started studying at Hogwarts. For his part, the boy seemed horribly contrite, or so he sounded as he fretted over her. She suspected at least half of his regret was due to the inevitably harsh detention he had to look forward to — perhaps something even worse, if the damage to her eyes proved permanent.
As she made her way through the castle, leaning on Sebastian and Natty — who both insisted to go with her, the sweethearts — she could think of nothing else. She couldn’t see anything. The last thing she had seen was Garreth’s smouldering cauldron where he was pointing out the way a particular piece of snail shell was melting, and then a great big flash of green, then blackness. She had thought for a moment that she’d fainted, but then she realised her eyes were open. By the time they reached the Nurse, her heart was still pounding at such a frantic rate she thought she was going to be sick.
“Well, she’s blind alright,” said Nurse Blainey after performing a few charms.
“What did you think? That I was lying?!”
“I will wring Garreth’s scrawny little nec—”
“Watch your tongue, Mr Sallow.”
“Can you fix it?” asked Natty in the most politely-frustrated voice she’d ever heard.
There followed a long discussion about what had caused it, which required them to bring Professor Sharp there — who, to his shame, hadn’t exactly been aware of what his students were doing — then Garreth — who also wasn’t sure what had happened with his potion, but he could at least list the ingredients he’d used.
All the while, she waited there in silence, hearing voices all around, footsteps echoing close and far, and tense, worried conversations. The Nurse had placed her in one of the beds in the corner while they decided what to do with her. Natty and Sebastian stayed by her side, quarrelling over what potions they could brew to cure her until she had to tell them to shut up.
By the time classes were done for the day, the Nurse had reached the conclusion that Garreth’s failed experiment, while exceedingly dangerous, would not affect her sight for long. Only a few weeks.
“A few weeks?!”
“Yes, two or three. Four if you’re unlucky.” She could hear the woman shrug.
“What am I supposed to do for three weeks? How can I study? How—”
“If I’m not mistaken, you’re not our only blind student. I’m sure Mr Gaunt can be of some help to you during this time.”
She recoiled at hearing it. “I don’t want to be a burden to—”
“Nonsense,” said Sebastian from somewhere behind her. “Ominis would do it happily!”
“I would,” said the boy. A pause followed as everyone else realised he’d entered the room. From the sound of it, he was standing a few feet in front of her.
The Nurse was happy with this arrangement, which meant fewer responsibilities for her. Professor Sharp breathed a sigh of relief, after which he promised to write to her parents and inform them. Sebastian and Natty, meanwhile, were disgustingly supportive, trying all the while to cheer her up. She shunned all of them, and would only go back to the Common Room with Ominis.
“Do you wish to have dinner first?” he asked quietly as they walked out of the Hospital Wing arm in arm.
“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled. “…Wait, are you?”
Ominis chuckled. “Could send Sebastian out to the kitchens to bring us something… He would do it. Careful, stairs.”
They went down step-by-step, and all through the castle, and after what felt like too long they finally made it to the Slytherin Common Room. She knew she was slowing them down, and Ominis didn’t deny it, but he was supportive the whole way — and not in that fretful, exaggerated, compensatory way Sebastian and Natty were, and not in the anxious manner of Garreth…
If Ominis was worried about her condition, he didn’t show it. As cool and calm as the lake, as sturdy as the rock Hogwarts was built on, he was by her side from the first moment.
The first order of business, while Sebastian fetched them a late dinner, was for her to learn the echolocation spell Ominis used to walk around.
“No, don’t hold it pointing down,” he said as he guided her hand. “Straight forward is better.”
“But what if I stumble onto something?”
“The spell will detect it in time.”
“Well I’m not feeling anything yet…”
“Just… try to cast it harder.”
“Cast it harder? You’re terrible at teaching spells. I want Sebastian back.”
“Yes, well, Sebastian can’t cast it,” mumbled Ominis.
“What can’t I cast?” asked the boy as he dashed into the Common Room.
She could already smell ham and cheese and the salty-sweet aroma of cold sausages. Two plates clinked as Sebastian placed them on the table by the fireplace, where she and Ominis were standing.
“My echolocation spell.”
“Ah yes, can’t cast that,” he said, followed by the soft floof of him plopping on the sofa.
They didn’t make much progress on that first night. His wand was far more accustomed to performing it than hers — but the promise of being able to learn it helped her sleep that night, after an hour or so of crying in fear and anger.
Waking up the next day was disorienting. She felt herself wake, she felt her eyes open, but not seeing anything seemed so… unreal. She nearly panicked all over again. Being in the dungeons, there was no sunlight to feel on her skin to let her know whether it was even morning, but then she heard the other girls shuffling around the room.
Imelda led her to the washroom, and later helped her dress — and for once, she didn’t have a snarky thing to say.
“Must be quite a nightmare,” the girl commented in what she perhaps imagined to be a sympathetic tone. “Can’t imagine flying in this state…”
“Yes, well, thanks Imelda, neither can I…”
She was relieved to hear Ominis’ voice again when she came downstairs.
“Over here!”
“How did you know it was me?” she asked, arms stretched in front of her in what she was sure must’ve been comical.
“You have a distinctive magical echo.”
“Do I…?”
“And Sebastian told me.”
“Morning,” the boy grinned from behind his friend.
Still, Ominis must certainly have been good at detecting where she was, because she felt his hand cup hers within seconds.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
“Just followed the sound of your voice,” he smiled.
“It all sounds the same to me…”
“You might think it does now, but eventually you’ll find it’s easy to tell distance by sound… The whole castle has very good acoustics for this sort of thing, in fact.”
“You make it seem so easy,” she smiled, her eyes tearing up at the sheer scope of all she had to learn to just survive the next few weeks.
“I promise you’ll find it easy too,” said Ominis, placing his warm hand on top of hers as she held his arm. “Open fields, now that can be an issue. But inside, here? You’ll get used to it in no time.”
Sebastian followed them for breakfast, but walked at a bit of a distance, letting Ominis explain things. Going to the Great Hall was a bit faster today than going to the dungeons had been the day before. She walked a bit more confidently already…
Breakfast was spent learning more about judging distance by sound.
“Here, now you try,” said Ominis, handing her a jug of pumpkin juice and an empty glass.
He’d just demonstrated how easily she could guess when a cup was close to filling by the sound the liquid made as it was poured — from a deep sound to a high one. She filled it just the right amount.
“That’s very good!”
“Really?” she grinned.
Feeling around the plate with the cutlery was done easily enough, but finding out what each pile of food held relied more on her sense of smell…
“Ah, I… wouldn’t recommend that.”
“What did I just pick up in my spoon?”
“What does it smell like to you?” asked Ominis with a little smile.
“Mashed potatoes…?”
“Well, I just hope you like parsnip porridge.”
And getting food onto her plate presented another difficulty… A few sausages rolled away before she gave up and picked them up with her hands rather than the fork, her knife kept slipping and clanging loudly on the plate whenever she cut into something, and her fingers landed in mustard sauce more than once.
After a little trial and error and a bit more cursing, she finally managed to get something she really liked. She moaned with pleasure, but it was cut short by Sebastian’s giggling.
“Whot?” she asked with her mouth full.
“Nothing,” he said with an obvious smile.
“What did you take?” asked Ominis curiously.
“It’s a seed cake,” she said defensively. “Just a little syrupy, that’s all.”
Sebastian laughed into his fist.
“What?”
“Nothing!” he said again. “Just… always thought you hated spotted dick.”
“Ewww!”
By the time breakfast was over, she was more angry than upset. Ominis considered it an improvement — at least she wasn’t on the verge of crying anymore. He supported her elbow with his hand as they walked out together. When the sounds of students passing by got louder, he felt her clinging to him more.
“Don’t be nervous…”
“Oh,” she said, her hand relaxing, “sorry.”
“It’s not just that,” he chuckled. “I could hear your breathing pick up, and your footsteps too, as if you were stomping on the ground.”
“It’s that obvious?!”
“It is,” he nodded. “For instance, how do you think I feel now?”
She sighed, feeling completely at sea as they walked together to class, in a direction she couldn’t tell, surrounded by noisy students — and Ominis was testing her.
“I don’t know… Calm, I suppose.”
“Why is that?”
“Your voice is low, and your arm is steady, and… and I can hear you smiling when you speak.”
“That’s quite good,” he chuckled.
What Ominis didn’t say was that he also felt worried about her, and worried about how useful he could be in these following weeks, how good of a guide or a teacher… He thought that it was obvious from his clipped tone and his lingering silences, but was glad to be proven wrong.
The first class of the day was, predictably, horrible. They had Charms, and the girl could scarcely follow the instructions on wand movements, had no idea whether the egg she was given had been shrunken and enlarged according to instructions, and was left feeling around for it awkwardly in order to tell where it was.
“How do you even know where to point your wand?” she sighed frustratedly.
“That’s where the echolocation spell will come in useful,” said Ominis from beside her. “It’s not just the direction, but the depth as well, how far something is from you.”
“We have to practice that more,” she grumbled, waving her wand uselessly. “Undercroft, after class.”
They ended up spending every break in their schedule that day in their secret room, with Ominis placing random obstacles in front of her while she tried and tried and… finally succeeded in making her wand cast the spell. It was just before they had to go to dinner.
“I did it!”
“Not bad,” said the boy — and she could hear his voice approaching, could hear his steps resounding in tighter and tighter echoes. “The cast is still pretty weak though…” She could tell he had his hand in front of her wand, judging the strength of the pulse for himself.
“It’s such a strange sensation… I can feel the shape of your hand in mine, through the wand, but it’s…”
“It’s a bit blurred, isn’t it?” he smiled.
“Yes, as if… as if through a fog.”
“Well, I’ve never seen fog,” Ominis chuckled, “but I’ll take your word for it.”
They went to dinner together and this time she walked on her own, holding her own wand in front. She grinned at being able to sense Ominis’ own echolocation spell, like rings on the face of a lake meeting each other.
“Can you feel people’s features with this spell?” she asked quietly as they entered the Great Hall.
“Not particularly… The size of someone, perhaps, but it is not so fine as to tell you what somebody looks like.”
“Can you tell the difference between, for instance, Sebastian and Garreth?”
“Naturally,” he laughed. “Garreth smells of toxic fumes. Sebastian smells of Confringo.”
Although that dinner was still speckled with splashes of sauce and spilt pumpkin juice, each meal got easier as the week progressed. Her echolocation spell, as well, got stronger. She wasn’t exactly confident enough to run through Hogwarts’ halls, but she found it easier to avoid running into people — and not get bumped into either, as her hearing became better at picking up all motions around her.
Attending class was easier too. She soon learned how to take notes on her own, although she wasn’t sure when she’d get the chance to read them. Ominis taught her a neat trick of holding onto the inkwell and use her fingers to precisely dip her quill in it. To tell whether she’d taken enough ink, she could test it on her finger first and see if the tip felt wet.
“You’re sure you don’t want a self-writing quill?” he asked.
“I want it,” she said, but first I want to do this on my own.
Ominis smiled. “And keep track of the parchment too. Find something as a placeholder for where you left off. Don’t want to write on top of what you’ve already written.”
With his guidance, she mastered a fairly simple system of holding onto the parchment with one hand, finger poised on her last line, and then cupping the inkwell with the other before dipping her quill.
What she still had trouble with well into the second week was spellcasting.
“How… just… how?” she hissed, smacking her wand up and down during a particularly troublesome Transfigurations class.
She heard a subtle laugh, and knew that it was Ominis. “Having trouble?”
“How am I expected to transform this damned ferret into a feather duster when the damned thing keeps moving?!”
Ominis had mastered the spell quickly, she thought, as she could hear no more animal squeaks from his side. About half the class had finished, judging by the mix of sounds from satisfied students and ferret trills.
She felt a warmth approach her from the side. Ominis took gentle hold of her wrist.
“Here,” he said, “maintain the location spell, and do the motions of the transfiguration spell from your wrist.”
She tried it a few times, his hand constantly around her wrist.
“Listen to where the animal is too, don’t lose track of him in case he runs away.”
She grit her teeth and frowned, ready to give up, but with Ominis’s help, she finally managed to do it just before the class was done.
“Bloody annoying,” she sighed, dropping her wand to the desk and wiping her sweaty palm on her robes. “Thank you, Ominis,” she mumbled. “Doubt I could’ve done it without you…”
“You could have,” she heard him smile. “Just would’ve taken you longer.”
To help calm her nerves, the boy suggested they go for a walk around the lake.
They walked and walked until the sun set. They could feel it as the air cooled all around them, as the evening grew loud with nightbirds, as the grounds became silent with all the other students gone inside the castle…
It felt strange to walk beside Ominis like that, without a word, without a touch, only the quiet sound of his footsteps in the grass. The water of the lake lapped on the shore beside them in lazy little waves, stirred perhaps by the creatures underneath or the light breeze. It set her senses on fire to feel how different it was to have that large, cold body of water on one side, and the warm shape of Ominis on the other — because she could feel it, could feel every detail. Even the wet earth underfoot and the grass, the dead leaves and dry branches, they all had a scent of their own that filled her mind more than the mere image of them ever could. Although she missed her sight very much, she could not deny that she felt more connected to everything around her in this way…
Her hand reached out and took Ominis’s arm — his right one, where he held his wand. Not even needing to ask, he switched it to the other hand and held her palm in his.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, but from his tone, she could tell he wasn’t worried.
“No,” she said. “Just wanted to feel your hand.”
“Well, there it is,” he chuckled. “Bit clammy… Sorry about that. Always gets that way when I hold my wand too long.”
“Mine too,” she smiled.
Their fingers interlinked as they kept their slow walk around the edge of the Black Lake. A thought kept swirling in her head, and she was torn between giving voice to it or keeping it to herself. She didn’t know if Ominis could tell, but —
“What’s on your mind?”
— of course he could.
“How did you know?”
“I swear I can hear you thinking sometimes. It’s the same with Sebastian.”
She laughed, but said nothing.
“So?” he asked again. “What is it?”
Her hand tightened slightly around his. “I was wondering if you might seem to the touch the same way you look. The face, I mean, and all that…”
“Ah,” he said, his tone teetering somewhere between amused and nervous, “you want to try to… ‘see me’ with your hands?”
“Could I?” she asked, her face turning slightly toward him as if she could better detect how he was reacting to all of this.
“Only if I could do the same,” said Ominis with a tight smile.
They reached as far around the lake as the grounds permitted and sat together on one large, smooth rock. Beneath them, they could hear the lapping of the water, quiet and gentle, and owls hooting far off in the woods. It felt almost as if she were floating on air, cross-legged, far from the ground, with nothing surrounding her but the cool night.
They tucked their wands in their pockets and fiddled their thumbs, both too timid to start.
“Well, you asked,” said Ominis after a prolonged nibbling of his lips, “so you go first.”
“Alright,” she sighed, her mouth pulled up into a nervous smile.
She stretched her hands before her gently and was almost startled when they reached his chest. His school uniform was much like hers, a little rough, but well tended to. Moving upwards, she reached his neck, and quickly skipped it until she felt the smooth line of his jaw with both her hands. For no reason at all, her eyes closed. Perhaps it felt more peaceful that way…
His chin was delicate and pointed, leading up in soft angles to his ears. Moving inward, her thumbs traced his high cheekbones, his temples, his arched brows, then dipped delicately over his eyes — his were closed as well. She smiled as she tickled the surface of her fingers with his long lashes.
“Well?” asked Ominis. “Is there a resemblance?”
“I think so,” she smiled. “You look the way you feel.”
“Oddly poetic of you,” he chuckled.
Her hands slid slowly down his face, framing his slightly long nose, falling then to his lips, soft and full. She gasped at feeling them, noting things she never realised before: how delicate they were, how defined, and slightly dry… She traced down to his chin again when she felt them part.
“Yes, I suppose that’s you,” she joked. Her giggles filled the tense air around them. She could feel him smile against her fingertips.
“My turn now,” said Ominis.
She squeezed her hands in her lap as she waited, and then the boy surprised her by cupping her face and slowly bringing them together, covering her like a mask.
He felt her from chin to forehead, taking in the full plains of her features, before he began to touch them each in part. He brushed her eyebrows upward, traced the shape of her eyes, ran his finger delicately down her nose to the tip, and brushed his thumb against her lips while his other hand caressed a broad path from her forehead to her jaw. She felt very thoroughly known after this…
They walked back to the castle in silence, hand-in-hand. As they did, she noticed in herself a feeling of… peace, of not caring anymore that she couldn’t see. She missed the colours of everything around, of course, the beams of light, the peaceful glow of the Slytherin dorms, the star-filled sky at night, but she didn’t feel like she lacked anything anymore.
That made it all the more shocking when, three and a half weeks into her blindness, she began to see vague shapes of light. Ominis’ thin face bloomed into a smile when she told him. She could see it in spite of the cloudiness of her vision.
She still used the echolocation spell to get around, and breakfast became easier, but the blending of shapes and colours so overwhelmed her senses that often she would close her eyes when she wished to concentrate.
It was probably for the best, as she fell behind on her coursework and had never gotten to practice reading Braille with Ominis. Her notes, she now could tell, were atrocious, and her fingers were horribly stained even now.
As the days passed, her vision gradually improved, and by the end of the fourth week, she was almost back to normal. Her eyes teared, unused to all the details.
“Come now, no need to cry over it,” said Ominis with an awkward laugh. They were returning from another visit to the Hospital Wing, where the Nurse had checked her progress.
“I’m not crying,” she sniffled. “How could you tell, anyway?”
“You mean aside from your voice being all choked up and your breathing irregular? Just a lucky guess.”
“I’m just feeling… too much, I think.”
Ominis took her hand in his. “I know,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll miss it too.”
And she didn’t need to ask what he meant.
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sal-absinthii · 1 month
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Had a dream that I was Regulus Black post-wizarding war, trying to keep my head down and just go along with life, but people kept recognising me and threatening me
At some point I was looking for a specific philosophy book in the video games section of a large shop that which was also a library. They didn't have it and I was disappointed. They were selling merchandise for the various Hogwarts houses and I fondly pulled out a Slytherin shirt. Kids reaching for other houses looked at me with disgust and anger, but I noticed that most of the Slytherin ones were gone and there were still plenty of Hufflepuff shirts left on the shelves. I wanted to react with anger at the kids, but I was in this half-kid, half-adult state where it wasn't clear which I was and both parts were furious and ready to fight but the adult part said I couldn't fight pre-teens, not because they didn't deserve it but because I had business that made me take an undefined job at the school and couldn't have it getting back that I had beat up some students over the holidays.
Then I was a child wandering alone around my old neighbourhood and there was no one around but I could sense a large, hidden monster stalking me, and I knew it couldn't attack until it was fully dark, but the sun was going down. For some reason I couldn't stop and go inside, and no one could help me, I just had to keep scootering around and trying to keep the panicking side of me under control by lying to it and saying it was ok. My instincts said I had to stay hidden, but also to keep moving, and also to act as though everything were normal, it was very important that no one who saw me could know I was afraid, because no one could know, and the whole time the monster I wasn't sure if I believed in was lurking, waiting. There was a small dog that was somehow relevant.
Then I was at work, doing my usual evening shift, logging in the stuff the courier would bring back, only it was in a semi-apocalyptic town, which was either deserted or burning with riots. An old classmate of mine I had been friends with at school showed up out of thin air, not clear if she recognised me as a classmate but she at least didn't know I was who I was, to give a fierce homophobic/transphobic/racist tirade and to rant in particular against "the system" that forbade such open talk. I didn't know if I agreed with her or not, but I was struck by how it suddenly seemed so unusually extreme to hear these words when I know that while we were at school this was completely normal and taught to us explicitly in many cases, and that she'd never questioned it, and I wondered how she'd been able to go 15 years in the real world without doing so. Odo from DS9 came up and told her she'd better leave because he would not tolerate it, and she cursed him out but left, giving me a dirty look when I didn't take her side against him and making rude remarks about nonhumans. He yelled "get out of here and don't let me catch you coming back, Riddle" which actually was her last name. I still didn't know if I agreed with her or not, part of me did, but I like Odo and am sympathetic to him and decided I'd rather be on his side than on the side of the girl who once was a threat to my existence at the school. He told me it was my job to stay later and do something involving lighting candles, which I didn't want to do because the riots were getting closer.
When I finally left, I had a hard time figuring out how to get home, which was far away, on the other side of the country it seemed, and I had no transportation. I tried to get onto the road but it was crowded and I had to force my way in, splitting up a group of bikers, who I thought would be angry at me but weren't when I told the group behind me they could go around me to rejoin the group in front of me, and I was in a very large cauldron on wheels, and I went like this for a while. A huge gross van I couldn't see inside but which it looked like someone lived in kept trying to run me over.
I don't know what happened in what order or if things jumped around, but I was trying to get away from my old classmate because I had a mission to protect Harry Potter, whom I barely knew, and I found him in a botanical garden getting ready to jump from a cliff onto a large boulder far below, which he claimed was a hologram only he could see through and was actually a very deep, beautiful, still pool. I tried to reason with him. He said that it was hidden as a test so that only the most worthy could find it, people who did not know fear. I said that even if it was true, he didn't know that the pool was deep enough to safely jump into, or that it was even water at all. I said it was not a good thing to not know fear at all, that being fearless is not the same as being brave, it's being naive and stupid, and that I knew that he did know fear, but he wasn't paying attention. He jumped and I shrieked LAB SAFETY! but he disappeared as soon as he hit the boulder and I guess he must have gone through it. I was supposed to keep him safe but instead I had let him jump possibly to his death for no reason and now I couldn't find him.
My coworker who gets angry when people call her a redhead was there and there was some plot about a club that only allowed redheads, I dunno, I can't remember but it was somehow important and part of the riots/apocalypse.
I was a child scootering again, in California summer twilight, with the sense I often got as a child that I was on a very large and empty movie set rather than in the real world, getting brief moments of impulse to hide in a bush or behind a tree for no reason, just that it was extremely important that anyone passing by did not see me. The monster was nearby all the time. I made myself imagine I was Edward Norton in American History X and that I could be scarier than the monster and could bluff it out of attacking me but only if I stayed very focused.
Then I was Regulus Black again and I had made it home, briefly, when someone knocked on my door and told me someone had vandalised my car. People were always after me for being a Death Eater and this was pretty common but I thought no one knew who I was here. It was the large ugly van that had tried to run me down, with mangled wheels and apparently ownerless. I went out to look at it and woke myself up yelling "I'M GOING TO KILL MY FUCKING NEIGHBOURS"
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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years
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Incorrect Order Chapter 2 (Nessian AU)
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A/N: DO inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!
Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.
Trigger Warnings: Abuse and Swearing
1957 words | Part 1 | Read on AO3
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Cassian was waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He waited for the day he would forget the woman’s face. He waited for the day he could close his eyes without seeing her blue-grey eyes blazing in anger. He waited for the day he wouldn’t burn his bacon because he was thinking about her.
He had mused, how the face of a stranger was branded into his mind vividly. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered if they’ve known each other before or have seen each other somewhere, anywhere before the day in the mall—even if on photographs or at an event or at another shopping mall. Still, he desperately wanted to forget about her. He wanted to forget that she ever existed. He wanted to forget their encounter in the mall that day. He wanted to forget everything about her, even though deep down, he knew what he wanted was far from forgetting her.
But he couldn’t afford this. He couldn’t afford to think about her at all times. He was getting distracted at work. His part-time job as a martial-arts instructor and as a sommelier was in a precarious position if it went on like this. He nearly tore one of his student’s muscles in his centre and got at least 5 orders wrong at the restaurant he was working at.
On a Saturday noon, Cassian decided the best way to clear his head was to dive into a war book or reread Secrets Of The Sommeliers for probably the millionth time.
* * *
Nesta flinched at the sudden ping of the oven timer. Again. She’d been thinking about him again. This was the fourth time in the whole week when she burned her cheese sandwich and she was getting so tired of this. She urgently needed a way to stop thinking about him. To stop seeing his insufferable grin whenever she closed her eyes. To stop thinking about him at almost all times.
It struck her as odd, the fact they didn’t even know each other’s names but she kept seeing his face as if they’ve known each other before. She gasped. What if they had known each other before? What if they were probably neighbours from Nesta’s old house or classmates or maybe they went to the same college. Nesta shook her head.
But why should she care? No, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what his name is or if he even has a name. She doesn’t care if she’s had the misfortune of seeing him before or if that was the first she’s seeing him. Or so she kept telling herself. She couldn’t afford to have him occupy her thoughts. She had better things to do. But all these excuses weren't enough to stop her from still thinking about him.
Nesta looked at her clock. It was a Saturday, almost noon. Maybe reading a spicy book or two will help.
* * *
Cassian loved the House of Wind library and bookstore. They had a variety of books in almost any genre. He'll admit though, that some of the librarians here are better left alone. He was lucky he came here often and therefore knew a handful of the merrier librarians. He made a beeline for his favourite section, books related to wine, best books for sommeliers.
On his way to the shelves he had committed to memory, he realised that there was a big poster about their annual Free Premium Membership Fest where 20 fortunate, early birds would get their membership card updated to premium with a number of privileges. Cassian's whole being was elevated. He missed the last fest they held and had been waiting for the next fest. He wondered how he could forget such an important thing. Oh. Right. Of course. A certain lady was occupying his thoughts. He sighed. He forgot about that too.
He was quite disappointed when he reached the counter. The fest started yesterday and the computer stated that there was only one person left till 20. What truly disappointed him was that Clotho wasn't at the counter as she usually was. Maybe she'll be in the—
“If you're done staring at the computer maybe you could deign to move so it can really serve its purpose of being a public property?” Cass froze. He'd know that voice anywhere. This was the voice taunting him at all times. “And if you have coffee in your hands, I'd suggest you turn slowly.”
He smirked. So she knew who she was talking to.
“Well, looks like the damage would be lesser this time since your clothes aren't white,” he observed.
“I figured black would hide stains caused by ogling, clumsy people better than white,” she said. “Now, if you could move, I want to register for the Membership Fest.”
“Register? What do you mean by ‘I want to register for the Membership Fest’?”
“A register, you know,” she teased, “Something like a form where you fill your details if you want to join something?” She smirked at his glare.
“Well,” he said, “if there is a register let me fill it first.”
“Because your ego is bigger?”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” he dead-panned. “I came here first.”
“Here as in the counter or the library? Because I’m pretty sure I stepped into this library first.”
Cassian quickly checked the database where the information of all members appeared. He turned back to her with a self-satisfied smirk. “The database shows otherwise, sweetheart.”
She scowled. “I don’t believe you. You might’ve tampered with the information.”
He moved slightly to the side to give her a better view. Her scowled deepened.
She rounded on him. “You,” seethed. “You did—”
“Hello,” a new, shy voice said.
“Hey, Gwyn,” they both said in symphony.
A look of surprise crossed over her features before it faded away. When the woman turned to Gwyn, she wore a huge smile. “Oh, look, she smiles,” he muttered, earning him a glare.
“Is the fest still on?” Cassian asked.
Gwyneth Berdara, one of the joyful librarians here, said, “Unfortunately, not. We just got our 20th member.”
Cassian’s face fell. He noticed the same of the woman too. Gwyn, always the optimistic one, said cheerfully, “Maybe we could reserve one for the both of you next year?”
They both murmured their assent before Gwyn offered her farewell and went back to the staffroom.
The woman turned back to him. “This is all your fault,” she hissed and stalked out of the library, leaving Cassian more confused than ever.
* * *
Nesta went to the library to find solace or at least a semblance of it. Seeing the man there, however, left Nesta more rattled than she would care to admit. Rattled, and angry. Angry at the universe for giving them these unfortunate encounters. Angry at him for following her wherever she went. Angry at herself for feeling such futile emotions. Angry at her body for reacting to him.
She was also upset that she didn’t get a free premium member cr
Nesta was so occupied with her thoughts and emotions that she didn’t realise she was taking the wrong route. She wasn’t familiar with this part of Velaris. She also didn’t realise she was being followed. It was distinct, the sound of hushed breathing, of the soft thuds of footfalls. The footsteps sounded heavier which most probably meant it was a man. She couldn’t really be sure, though. This was a person who was not experienced in stalking but was trying hard enough.
Nesta knew she shouldn’t panic but couldn’t help the bout of fear that crashed through her. Nesta tried to stay calm. She tried to make sure she didn't quicken her pace. She tried, cauldron, she really did. But her fear was slowly overpowering her senses. She felt the urge to run away from her stalker.
But that wouldn’t be wise. Running away from her stalker isn’t a good choice. It wasn’t smart. Who’s to know he wasn’t armed? What if he was faster than her? What if her stalker was faster than her? He might be stronger too. He could over power her and cage her in. She didn’t even know what his motive was.
Then, Nesta made a ridiculously huge, dumb mistake. She turned to an abandoned alley. At least it looked abandoned. She let out a frustrated breath. Running away was at least better than getting stuck in an alley. So much for ‘that wouldn't be wise’. She looked around, trying to get a sense of where she was or if there were any means of escape, however meager it might be.
Suddenly, she was slammed to the alley wall. The rough cold stone was unforgiving and unyielding under her cheek. Her windpipe was closed off and she was struggling to get some air in. She fought to get free but her captor —a man, as she guessed— was too strong. Somehow, his hands felt familiar to her. As if she were long acquainted with this person’s touch.
“What do you want?” she gasped out.
He chuckled, the sound grating through her very bones.
“My little Nesta,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting the shell of her ear. “Ever the stubborn one.”
That voice. It was one that she couldn’t forget as hard as she tried. Tomas Mandray, her ex-boyfriend, was someone not easily forgotten.
“Tomas,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to be nice. Not now, not after how he treated her. “What the fuck do you want? Let me go.”
“I see you haven’t changed at all.”
“I can say the same of you.”
“Mhm. You broke up with me and then you called the police. Got me stuck behind bars for two fucking months.”
“Good riddance,” she muttered.
He slammed her head against the wall. Hard. Blinding pain shot through her. He yanked her hair so hard she was afraid chunks of it came out. Her head only throbbed harder.
“Manners were never your cup of tea,” he hissed.
“You were not that kind either. You were an empowering, possessive bastard and I don’t regret watching you grovel to the police for freedom for one fucking moment and I won’t ever.”
He growled and slammed her head against the wall again. She cried out and was pretty sure she heard something crack. She felt the metallic tang of blood on her lips, streaming from her nose freely.
“Oh, you will. You’ll regret everything. Every. Single. Thing. For your whole god-damned life. I’ll make sure of it, bitch,” he promised.
He tightened his grip on her hair that sent another wave of agony through her. She caught the glint of something in the fading sunlight. A knife. Of course he had a knife.
He had a knife while she was a mess, kneeling on an alley, completely at the mercy of one of the people who hated her the most. Pathetic. So, so, pathetic. She hated herself for whimpering. She hated herself for being this weak. She hated that she had gotten panicked enough that she turned to an alley, where no one would know.
Here, in this unknown alley, with the person she hated the most, Nesta Archeron was going to die. She was going to die a death as unknown as the place she was in. Maybe even without her sisters knowing. Shit. Her sisters. If only she showed all her love to sweet Elain and brave Feyre, if only she even went to meet her brother-in-laws, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, maybe things would’ve been different. She closed her eyes, fighting the emotion in her throat. I’m sorry Elain, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, I’m so, so sorry, was the last thing in her head before she felt acute pain and succumbed to the dragging talons of oblivion.
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