#but she is so miserable right now and it's bringing up a lot of memories of jayne

[marmotsomsierost]

The old lady is home, high as shit and Grumpy At Everything.

The puppies are Greatly Concerned.

She has to skip two days of The Good Shit (gabapentin and trazodone) because the doc wants to be sure her wobblies and resistance to standing up are from being High As Fuck and hospital stress, so if she isn't at least upright and semi-mobile by then they want to know about it. Once she is upright and on steady ground she's walking with minimal assist for short distances.

[woodlandwrites]

i. mind over matter

aphrodite!reader x luke castellan

pre-tlt, characters 18+, mdni, def going to be a pt.2

warnings: cursing, whole lotta impertinence!

2.7k read - unedited

You have been plagued by flocks of doves and Luke Castellan. So Aphrodite decides to meddle a little a lot in your love life. Who needs memories anyway? Unfortunately, the only person you find comfort in - is the very person you hate.

A/N: first fic in a loooong time - stick with me here. there will be more parts and maybeee some spice? anyways hope you enjoy!

You’d like to think that Aphrodite loved the game of making you miserable. In retrospect, you hated your mother. She was a hard act to follow. 

Don’t jump to conclusions - you loved your cabin. Your brothers and sisters were wonderful - not vain like most campers would say. No, that was not an issue. The problem started with one slender, curly haired, crooked smile boy - Luke Castellan. He was the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood and the bane of your existence. 

Luke was an astonishingly aggravating self-centered egotistical bigot. 

“Why do you hate him so much,” Silena asked one day out of the blue. You both sat in the stands watching Luke teach his swordsmanship class. You pondered her question for a while.

“Because. He confuses me - and aggravates me constantly. I have never met anyone so full of themselves in my entire life. He is Narcissus reborn again. It also does not help that he is a complete jerk,” you nodded as you ate another fresh strawberry. Silena pondered on your words.

“Are you sure this has nothing to do with mom and the whole..argument,” she said in a cautionary tone.

Silena was the only one who knew about you and Aphrodite’s - complicated past. To be fair - she didn’t know the entire truth. The prophecy, the impertinence, all the bullshit. However, she did know that your shoulders seemed to tense every time Aphrodite’s name was mentioned. 

“I mean every time I have talked to him at camp counselor meetings he seems like an alright guy.

Silena - forever the optimist. Sometimes when you looked at her through the corner of your eye she resembled your mother. She had this soft tone and locks of hair that seemed to always catch the wind just right. Yeah, no wonder Luke was nice to her. Selina was extremely beautiful - Beckendorf struck gold. 

“Yeah, I can see right through the façade-” you were cut off by a dove landing next to you. He started pecking at your strawberries mindlessly. Silena stifled a small giggle. 

“It is funny when it isn’t happening to you. The bastards have been following me around for days,” you said annoyed.

You tried scaring the bird away - only for more to return. After a couple minutes an estimated 20 doves flocked around you mimicking every move. 

“Go away!” you screamed - only for the feathered friends to cock their heads in curiosity. By now, the entire arena seemed to convert their attention to you. 

“Hey! I heard if they shit on your head it’ll bring good luck,” Luke echoed watching amused.

He leaned against his sword in a cocky manner. What an asshole - you hated when he did that. The other campers seemed to laugh along. 

“Up yours, Castellan,” you yelled with a face the color of cherries. 

The doves had now increased their army to a solid 50 - all looking to you for a further instruction. Doves had followed you around your entire life - a gift your mother had bestowed to you. The unfortunate part was that they were pretty much the most non obedient monsters on the entire planet. You never had truly understood why they would appear - most of the time it was a random occurrence. Of course - Luke was always there to revel in your misfortune. You still had not forgotten when the doves caused a complete riot last month at dinner - leaving quite a mess for you to clean up. The younger campers were still traumatized. 

That was the thing about doves - they were just like your mother. At first they are nice to look at, almost sweet. That is until they turn into vicious assailants from Tartarus (Silena says you overreact). They also annoy you - another common attribute with your mother. 

“For Gods sake just leave!,” you yelled again, stomping off, bidding Silena goodbye.

You did not want to continue being entertainment for the rest of the campers. The doves seemed to take the hint - maintaining their place in the stands. You were sure there were some week old snacks stuffed between the seats the rotted things could ravish on. Luke chuckled before turning his attention back to his students. 

The sun was setting and soon it would be dinner - but you still sat in bed thinking about what Silena had mentioned early about your mom. Maybe it was your nerves - but you knew a visit soon would be unavoidable. The doves only confirmed your suspicion. It was rare for gods to visit Camp Half-Blood, at least publically. The closest thing the camp had to godliness was Mr. D - what a joke. However, you knew your mother and her constant desire to meddle with your life. 

Dinner went without a hunch - except for the Stoll twins starting a food fight at the Hermes table. You loved quiet nights like these where the summer breeze feels like a warm hug. Silena nudged you - reading her expression you knew she was inquiring about the events from earlier. A shrug sufficed. You were so caught up in laughing with your siblings you failed to notice the yelling from the other side of the pavilion. 

“One of the Ares girls was flirting with Luke after you left today - Charlie and I could not help but laugh. It was so awkward,” Silena mentioned.

 There were a couple of murmured sounds and gawking from your siblings - which was the usual. If there was one thing they loved it was - well - love. However this subject rubbed you the wrong way - maybe it was just Luke’s name being mentioned.

It felt like a suffocating gut punch and it was most likely your mothers doing. If there was anything she loved more it was demigod love - the trials and tribulations - and of course the unfortunate ends. It quite literally made you sick. But why did Luke have to be roped in it and moreover - why did you care? You smiled and nodded - trying to pay attention and not let the thoughts take over. 

“Get these goddamn things off of me!,” a familiar voice yelled in annoyance.

So wrapped up in thought - you failed to care - assuming it was a practical Hephaestus joke with an Ares kid. Selina quickly nudged you pointing towards the Hermes table - for quite an interesting scene. Luke being attacked by a merciless army of doves. 

“Hey Castellan, let them shit on your head - heard it was good luck!,” the words reflected from just a few hours prior.

You couldn’t help but giggle - it was nice not being the receiver of dove aggravated assault (as Beckendorf had termed it). It was also nice not to be the joke for once - everyone laughing at someone else for a change was different. 

“Call the damn things off,” he struggled - yelling your name in the process.

“Why do you automatically assume I am the one who set them off? They just do what they want!” you retorted.

 Silena looked at you - questioning your motives. He struggled even more as the doves thrashed him around - seemling gaining confidence in their blows. They seemed - deadly - more than before. Silena muttered your name.

“You have to try,” Silena persuaded. Reluctantly you obeyed - knowing she was being more serious than she was putting on. 

“Stop!” you yelled sternly to the winged creatures.

Like usual - they did not obey. Unfortunately, they keep going - tearing Luke’s shirt in the process. He held himself quite well against dove assassins  - a fact you did not want to admit to yourself. 

“παύω!” You spoke - pleading that it would end.

It was all your mothers fault. She wanted you to be miserable. She wanted to ruin your night, humiliate you - and to hurt Luke. You weren’t sure why that last part bothered you so much.

 “Φεύγω!” you screamed once more in an earthshaking tone.

The doves dissipated automatically. Like literally - poof - into dust. Again - the entire camp had its eyes on you - what else was new?

“What is wrong with you,” Luke questioned - still astonished at the sheer power of your voice - that very voice that made doves disintegrate. You slowly looked up at his disheveled appearance - he looked worse.

Beautiful. 

You wish that voice in your head would go suck a dick!

“Shows over, enjoy your dessert,” you said bitterly to the crowd taking a bow.

Silena yelled your name but you had already darted towards the woods. You could hear the muttering of the crowd questioning the evening entertainment. You could not seem to care. 

You took a seat in the sand on the beach overlooking the shore. The moonlight seemed to make the water sparkle like diamonds. You felt almost calm here - no one to distract you from your thoughts. Why did his words strike you like a knife? He might as well plant backbiter into your back, it would hurt less. It all led to the proper question - why? Why would the doves attack him anyway? They had never done anything quite so ruthless before - nevertheless to another sole person. 

Then again - it was always about Luke - ever since you got to the infernal camp. He was probably celebrated for his brave victory in the battle of the doves - hoisted up by other campers. You suppose a feast in his honor was in order. 

“You think such unhappy thoughts,” an angelic voice sang from the sea. 

Your attention turned towards a bundle of sea foam. The foam began to sparkle and mangle to take the shape of a woman the closer it got to shore. Soon after your mother - Aphrodite stood before you - in all her glory.

“I thought seafoam was just whale jizz,” you spoke casually. You chucked at yourself that was a good one!

Of - fucking - course. Your mother was behind the entire dove fiasco - you called it. You should start placing bets at this point. 

“Most would be labeled impertinent with that attitude - especially with a God.” 

“I am impertinent.” You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. Maybe if you really ignored her she would disappear. 

“I will not disappear yet - we have much to discuss.” 

“Get out of my head.” 

“I heard what occurred tonight at dinner. Shame, doves are very gentle creatures.”

A dove magically appeared in her hands, letting out a soft coo. You cringed. If you saw another dove tonight - you might just roast it and eat it. 

“So that was you?” You asked venomously.

“Well thanks mom! Now the entire camp thinks I tried to kill the golden boy with a league of killer doves. They all think I am absolutely crazy.”

“I did nothing, my child.” You gawked at her - she paused to collect her thoughts.

“However, you might want to look within yourself before you spit accusations that are not true. I merely gave you a gift - how you use it is at your own expense.” She finished. 

“But I don’t control those horrid things - they just show up and do whatever. Why would I even attack Luke with a bunch of wimpy doves?”

That was your mother, having the audacity to say you caused the incident. That it was all your fault. 

“Love, perhaps?” Her eyes seemed to glitter at the thought. 

“No.” Ugh, not this again, you thought.

“Doves are a mere - personification of one’s inner love. That is why I gave you the gift - so your innermost feelings can never be bottled. That does horrid things to one’s complexion.” 

“Well thanks for the shitty gift, mother. Next time maybe a pair of socks will do the trick.” 

“Why do you insist on denying who you are? Denying what you are destined to become? Denying yourself the love of the century?”

“Why love someone if they eventually will die.” It was true. Your father had died when you were young - leaving you an orphan. Your demigod friends you made throughout the years died horrible unspeakable deaths.

“Isn’t that all the more fun?” 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you? You just love to see me suffer?”

“You’re being rash.” She fired back.

“Rash? Where have you been?” You scoffed at your godly mother.

“Child, I do not write destiny - I only enforce it. I know you more than you would like to admit, sweet dove. And you - are in love with the child of Hermes.”

 Apollo could’ve shot you through the chest - it would have felt better. 

“Mother, you have it mixed up - I do not have any feelings for Luke. You’re just making things up because you are bored and need some excitement. Please go back to Olympus and meddle with someone else’s life,” you stated. You staggered to your feet dusting the sand off. 

Before you could walk away a bolt of pure energy hit you in your spine. You flew to your feet hitting the ground with a hard thud. In a blur your mother was standing proud above your feet - surrounded in a pink aura. 

“Luke Castellan, he will keep you safe - and you will keep him steady.” 

You might have thought to curse at her - but you couldn’t speak - let alone move. She had disappeared from vision leaving only a dove in her wake. The pain - was excruciating - like being electrocuted a million times. Your ears rang terrible tunes as you tried to level yourself - only to fall back down. The world was spinning at an unmeasurable pace. You could hear shrill screaming - or was it yours? You weren’t even sure who you were? Only images of dark curls, broad shoulders, and crooked smiles flashed through your vision. 

A quake of footsteps running towards the shore were felt as you thrashed in the sand. Voices - yelling a name - whose name? You couldn’t recall. All you knew was darkness. 

“Y/N?!” a feminine voice called. You could feel her hands shake your shoulder violently - it felt like knives.

You heard screams - this time knowing it was your shrill cry. You pushed her away with force. You backed away, crawling backwards in desperation. 

Once your vision returned you focused to see a swarm of kids all in orange shirts - staring at you in shock. The girl who touched you - you could only assume was kneeling in the sand in front of you. She seemed to be pleading.

“Stay away, please,” you pleaded with tears streaming from your eyes. You weren’t sure what had happened but you knew you had never felt pain so deeply. 

“Y/N, please you were screaming. We only want to make sure you are okay. We can go to the infirmary and figure it out,” the girl reached out only for you to retreat more. You hyperventilate on your own words. 

“What’s going on?” another voice asked with urgency from beyond the crowd.

Every child seemed to turn their attention to focus on the male figure. Pushing his way through the crowd - he became shocked at the scene before him.

However, you felt as if all the oxygen had left your body - leaving you limp. You felt as if a hand had grabbed your heart and ripped it in two. He was the one - the one you had seen in your visions. 

“Y/N?” he questioned - half concerned, half annoyed. His chocolate eyes seemed to lock ever so easily with yours. He was indeed the most beautiful man you had ever seen - like a carving of marble. Your soul ached. Without a thought - on instinct alone - you ran. He was engulfed in a desperate hug - his shoulder muffled your pitiful cries. 

“Please, you’re the only one who can help.” You could feel the eyes on the two of you - the gasps were hard to ignore. He went stiff in his posture - not sure how to react. Silence fell over the entire shore, only the crashing of waves in the background. 

“Y/N what is going on? Is this some sort of prank?” he asked in disbelief. 

He had never seen you like this - so scared. Some small part of him wanted to scoop you up, hold you tight, and tell you everything would be okay. He wanted to tell you how he would fix all your problems - just so he would never see you cry again. Although these feelings were so suppressed he restrained.

Gods you were beautiful. 

“I- I don’t know who Y/N is. I don’t know anyone. I don’t know me.” 

[thebowieconstricker]

Hello! I saw you wanted requests for Lucifer, and I would love any sort of angst where Lucifer ends up comforting the reader, like maybe something happened to the reader, or the reader is just really stressed and just breaks down

Ease My Mind

(Lucifer Morningstar x reader)

masterlist link

AN: To this request: yes yes yes yes YES I just KNOW that he gives the best hugs and is so ready to comfort the people he loves. For this fic, I decided the angst is a little of everything, job struggles, moral dilemmas, and some self-doubt, so I hope I delivered. This isn’t proofread so please alert me to any errors! Thank you for your request! <333

Summary: You have a bad day at work and it triggers a breakdown. Luckily, your big bad boyfriend is here to help.

Tags: Gender neutral reader, could be read as platonic if you reeeeally squint but it’s implied romantic, heavy on the angst, a dash of fluff, Lucifer is trying his best, you guys are precious.

Warnings: Reader is afraid they’re being used by the people around them and they have lots of thoughts about being useless and others not liking them.

Also, the title is inspired by the song “Ease My Mind” by Ben Platt, go listen to it! Enjoy ya heathens!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been used by others for your entire life.

And now you were stuck in that same cycle in death.

As a young, naive, alive-person, you were desperate for some one to love you. Growing up in an environment where compassion was scare, you decided that the only way to get people to notice you was by offering to help them in some way. A favor, a ride, somewhere to crash, and, for one specific person, a place to hide the bodies. In life, you had gotten so deep into your desire to please others that you had latched onto the first person to give you the time of day. Unfortunately for you, that individual happened to have a thing for serial killing.

Looking back on it now as you miserably walked back to the hotel, tears threatening to fall down your face, you couldn’t think about anything other than how stupid and useless you were. It was your fault that they were found out, your fault that the innocents were dead in the first place, your fault you were stuck in hell and that fucker was still out there.

How much time had passed on Earth? How many more had they killed?

On most days, you could compartmentalize, putting the bad thoughts in a little box and shoving it in the back of your brain, but work had broken you today. You worked for the Vees, specifically Velvette, and it was no secret how they overworked and abused their staff. You were stuck picking up Velvette’s leftover energy drinks for as long as she had control of your soul.

And yet. You thought maybe someday, someday you might make a connection. You might impress her, or surprise her, or something, and maybe she would give you a break.

But no. Today you had been an hour late for the first time and Velvette had screeched at you, calling out all of your flaws and insecurities and bringing all of the horrible memories that you had oh-so-carefully stowed away to light. But you held back tears and did your fucking job, the emotions boiling all day and the hectic office space doing nothing to calm it.

You had needed this cry for a long time, and now there was no stopping it.

Walking along the brimstone pathways, you finally made your way to the rickety Hazbin Hotel. Its incomprehensible height only worsened your now growing headache as you walked up to the doors, grabbing the handles and swinging the heavy iron frame and red-stained glass open.

You immediately started towards your room, but you were blocked by the obnoxiously cheery Princess of Hell herself, Charlie.

Charlie’s not obnoxious, you’re so vile for thinking that.

Shit, the thoughts were getting worse and you could not do this right now.

Charlie, oblivious to your mood, smiled brightly. “There you are! How was work? I’ve got someone here who’s been waiting-“

You shoved past her, bumping her harshly.

“Not in the mood.”

Charlie frowned in confusion behind you.

“But, wait, hey-“ You ignored her pleas and- ah shit, now Angel’s in front of you.

“Hey, babe, you might wanna hang around for a sec-“

You shut your eyes tightly and moved your hands towards his chest, your fight or flight kicking in as you pushed him.

“ANGEL, leave me alone.”

Why would you yell at Angel like that? He’s just being nice.

Shut up shut up SHUT UP

Everything was only getting worse. You bolted to the grand staircase and raced up the steps. As you sped down the seemingly infinite hallways, the tears you had been fighting back for the last millennia finally fell. With a choked sob, you finally spotted your bedroom and lurched for the doorknob, swinging the door open and slamming it behind you as you bursted into your room. You ran to your bed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly as you loudly cried.

Charlie only keeps you here because she needs the guests, you know. She hates you. They all hate you. They wish you weren’t here. You’re just lying there, crying, why would they want you?

The hateful thoughts were all you could hear in your mind. As you pulled your knees to your arms holding your pillow, you wanted nothing more than to disappear. To just pop out of existence and finally be free of the burden of yourself.

Then, suddenly, three knocks at the door.

“GO AWAY.” You screamed, throat on fire from your sobbing.

A voice came from outside. A smooth, relaxed, kind male voice.

“It’s me, hon.”

You froze, terrified. Quickly you climbed to the floor on the left side of your bed, blocking your body from the view of the door. You took several deep breaths, trying to steady your nerves.

“Come in.” You said shakily.

You heard the door creek open, then footsteps.

“Where ya hiding these days?” He awkwardly chuckled, clearly trying to lighten up the mood you were in.

“Just- stay over there.” You were still holding your pillow, and you gave it an extra squeeze.

“I’m a mess right now.” You sniffled.

He paused, like he was thinking. “Well, if that’s what you want, but I hope you know by now that I’m always happy to see you. Even when you’re a mess.”

You felt the bed shift. He was sitting on the opposite side.

Like a child looking for a secret, you turned around to look at the back of his head. His hat was gone, probably left downstairs, and all you saw was his sweep of blond hair.

He made a ‘hm’ sound. “Bad day?”

You nodded. Then, realizing he couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah.”

You watched him nod. “I’m sorry about that.” He fiddled with his cane, his hands tightening and loosening around it. “Would you… like to talk about it?”

You paused.

Lucifer had been a confidant of yours since you first arrived in Hell. He was the one to tell you what was going on right after you died, calming you down and offering you a place to stay. Sure, you didn’t know that he was literally the Devil, but everything about him made you feel at peace. Like you could deal with the hand you were dealt.

Secretly, though, you were waiting.

Waiting for the moment when he would reveal that he only kept you around because he needed you to do something for him.

No one was that kind, or caring, or wonderful.

He wants something from you. Why else would he keep coming back?

You had yet to answer his question. Lucifer sighed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?”

The voices were still wringing in your head, you were still crying, and you felt pathetic.

“I- I don’t- fuck, would you please stop acting like you care?” You knew your words were harsh but they were begging to be said.

His posture straightened in surprise.

“I do care! What makes you think I don’t care?” He sounded hurt.

Nice going, you hurt his feelings.

You bent forward, hands covering your face in frustration. A fresh wave of tears rises through your body and you loudly cried out, too scared and angry and sad to hide it anymore.

“Woah, woah, hey, it’s okay, hon.” Lucifer’s voice was nearing your form on the ground, and he was quickly at your side. You could feel his presence beside you.

He sighed in exhaustion. “Listen, I’m not- I’m not the greatest at this, but I’m gonna ask so I don’t upset you. Do you want a hug? Or a hand on your shoulder-“

Your arms were wrapped around him before he could finish his question, clinging to his waist and biting your face in his neck.

“WOAH there- well hey, sweetheart, there you are.” You could hear him smiling as he gently brought his hand to rub your back.

“I’m sorry. I- I’ve just had a shitty day at work and I’m worried about a lot of things and- I don’t want to take it out on you.” You were shaking, but he held you steadily.

“What kinda things are worrying you?” He asked.

And so you told him. In the comfort of his embrace you were able to somewhat coherently explain all the things that had been freaking you out. Velvette’s torture at work, your own moral dilemmas about your life on Earth, and you were just getting into your feelings about others using you when you felt Lucifer’s breath hitch.

He leaned away from you to look you in the eyes and gently put a finger to your chin.

“Honey, I want you to know that I know for a fact that the people here really care about you. Not because you’re an extra pair of hands, but because you’re you. You’re wonderful to be around. People like you.”

He looked at you with a warm smile and leaned towards you, giving you a small kiss on the forehead.

“I like you. I care about you because you’re worth caring about.”

You stared at him in awe, your mind finally at ease after such a chaotic day. Smiling, you leaned back into him to rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you, Luci.” You reached out and took one of his hands, holding it tightly in an effort to show him how grateful you truly were for his words of assurance.

He tightened his fingers around yours and grinned down at you.

“Always, love. Now, let’s get you on the bed, okay?”

You nodded and he gracefully picked you up, gently placing you on the bed. With a snap, you were in comfortable clothing with a warm blanket around you and plenty of soft pillows.

“You want me to hang out for a bit?” He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, clearly sleepy.

“If you don’t have anything else going on…” You offered, already half dozing off.

“Even if I did, I would love nothing more.” With an affectionate grin he curled up beside you, and you immediately went to lay your head back on his chest. As you drifted away, listening to the King of Hell’s heartbeat, you took a deep breath.

He was right. Things were gonna be okay.

You had friends.

You were loved.

[traumatizedartist]

*AHEM*

My murder drones au headcannons (the one with actual digital art)

These 👇

Anyways yknow the drill at this point, look under the cut for the headcannons

TW FOR SUICIDE ATTEMPT IN THE HEADCANNONS (I'll have it be in red so you can skip past it if it makes you uncomfortable)

Uzi- Autistic, clearly

She has daddy issues but not nearly as bad as in canon(Khan doesn't leave her for dead in this au she "sacrifices herself") she's still super emo. She has a more scene style. Her, Lizzy and Doll are actually kinda close, they become even closer(become friends) after the series ends, cuz, yknow, Uzi saved the world? Anyways, she's dating N, and she doesn't care that he killed her mom(I mean she does but it only affected them for like, a year, so I guess a long time, they actually broke up cuz of it but they were both fuckin miserable and Nori slapped some sence into her cuz she saw how N looked before killing her and he looked so guilty ((wow the run on sentence go crazy))) So yeah they're the dictionary definition of a great not toxic couple

N- very sweet, very loving good boy. He has PTSD, obviously. It's like, really bad tho. Nightmares every night level bad, and that's how him and this aus Khan bond. They trauma bond, yay!! He's very in touch with his emotions, and he's a bit of a push over. He's a very big people pleaser and has a lot of trouble placing boundaries. Uzi helps him with that when they start dating, so that he doesn't get hurt all the time

V- once you crack her shell, she's a very shy and sweet person, not like her personality back at the manor, but like a mix of her current canon personality and manor. C PTSD, she remembered more than N about the manor before Uzi unlocked those memories. She also has nightmares a lot but Lizzy and Doll help her with them. Nothing cuddles and wholesome movies can't fix. At least for a little bit.

J- bless this girls lonely heart. She's still greiving Tessa(she's alive in Uzis mind just no one knows yet) she ends up breaking down after her and N get into a mother fight after he tries to be there for her for the like, 10000th time. When she comes back to the bunker with N, everyone, understandably, is very suspicious of her. But when she does get there, for the first few months, she's just a husk of her old self. Shes quite and agrees to do anything because she just doesn't care anymore, the moment she starts to truly feel at home is, ironically, during her rock bottom

TW FOR SUICIDE ATTEMPT

V is the one that finds her, she had gotten worried when she noticed all the uneaten oil in front of Js room. When she comes in she sees J with her rifle to her head.

TW OVER

V tackles her and starts interrogating her, asking why and is very worried. J, seeing this, just breaks, she begins to bawl her eyes out, crying about how much she misses Tessa, how she was the love of her life and can't live without her, how she wants to be with her, how she can't take it anymore. V and J spend the next 3 to 4 hours crying together. V had texted N telling him what happened and to get his ass over there now. So, of course he does,when he gets there he sees them hugging and J crying and he joins them, bringing the oil so when Js done crying she can eat. She had been starving herself toAnd this is when J truly sees how much people care about her, which, in turn, makes her cry even harder. When she's done crying N feeds her the oil and they cuddle together for a while. She's a lot better now but she's in for a very big surprise

Cyn- that's right baby! Cyns alive! Because I felt so SO bad for her that I had to have her live in my au. She still talks the same, but she's very sweet and innocent, her and Uzi have an older/younger sister relationship. Her and N reunite in the cutest way, they're both crying and hugging super tight. V and J are tearing up as well. I have more headcannons about her on my drawing of her lol so wait for that lol

Tessa- I don't have a lot of headcannons for Tessa, so just go to the hashtag Died and got over it and take pretty much all the headcannons of Tessa from there and that's how it is here pretty much lol(I'll find the @ I promise)

Thad- he's a straight ally and single(looking at you @rory-multifandom-mess) he's Lizzy's younger twin brother and his personality is pretty much the same. He's friends with the wrong people. He's a very big sweetheart. He's a Femininominon. A green flag icon. The best football player on his team(he isn't a dick about it tho) I don't have anything else for him but I do have a drawing for him so you'll have to wait on that as well lol. Srry

Lizzy- Thads older twin. She's dating V and Doll(you can't stop me) she became friends with Uzi after the show ended. She's a Y2K girlie. She is also very sweet when you tear down the asshole popular girl walls. She's quite traumatized from the show and sometimes has nightmares about it. She doesn't tell anyone but people found out(*cough cough* V and Doll *cough cough*)

Doll- she's dating V and Lizzy, she was never revengeful of V, as her dad survived the attack(so did her mom but literally no one knows that yet) she's still very blunt and has a flat affect, she also doesn't show her emotions a lot, but from the unfinished comic I already posted, when V and Lizzy get back to the bunker after the canon ends she breaks down. She thought they were dead. Uzi and her are cousins(not really but their dads are best friends so they view each other as cousins) I don't even have a last name for her yet so you'll have to wait(again) for the drawing to see more headcannons of her)

Khan- WOOO WE'VE HIT THE JACKPOT BABY! Autistic. He's half DD in my au(and he has the solver with the back hand things that we see nori having at the beginning of episode 7 I think, either 7 or 6 idk) idk how hes part DD yet, my thoughts are either forbidden love or cabin fever failed experiment. I'll probably make a poll of that, see which ones you all like the most. He's very insecure about his body, he used to get bullied back in high school because, no matter which choice I make, he gets to experience high school(with the cabin fever experiment he went missing for like, a year, and then escaped, he tried to get nori and yeva but they told him to go or he'd get killed, so he left, he still has a lot of pent up guilt from that) he's also a trans man(YIPPIE) but he's also curvy, hence the insecurity. He's a good dad and actually helped with the fight with the AS(he fought j as a distraction and effectively got his ass beat((Lizzy laughed at him, he also laughed, he's a dumbass))) so he had to recover from that, also, in my au, him, the teacher(I'm naming him Lewis) and nori are dating, so when Lewis is hanging for his fucking life Khan flies down and saves him lol. Also, he does get to reunite with nori, as everything that happened to her in the show happens in my au, but them reuniting happens differently, through Uzi(yay)

Guh, I've ran out of ideas so when I get more(and the motivation to write more) I'll reblog this post with more headcannons, hope y'all like this lol

[thorias]

So I've been thinking about how the "Saving Gambit" story is going to play out in season 2. Not much else to do right now but speculate since it doesn't look like we'll be getting any new information for a while; hell, at this rate, they probably won't even let AJ acknowledge that mid-credit scene in the finale until we've at least got a trailer to sink our teeth into.

Anyway... ideally, I'd like there to be more to it than just Rogue telling Deathbit that she loves him and then he's back to normal like magic. That's okay for Rogue, I guess, but Remy needs an arc too. And it would feel anticlimactic if it's that easy, especially after we got so gipped with the lack of Romy content in season 1.

I'd like them to build a real story around this, with the X-men trying a bunch of different ways to get through to Remy, but none of them work. I want to see Rogue try to drain the evil out of him like she did with Archangel in XTAS, only for her touch to have no effect because Apocalypse has accounted for that this time. I want to see Jean try to shut down the Deathbit persona telepathically, only for it to force her out of his mind.

I want to see them try everything they can think of to bring Remy back and fail every time until it all seems hopeless... and then hope arrives from an unexpected place.

We're getting into fanfic territory here, but we don't have much to go on for the time being, so screw it. Here's how I'd write the thing...

Archangel shows up to help the X-men with Apocalypse/Deathbit, giving them some new insight to go on. He explains how Apocalypse turns mutants into Horsemen; what it feels like and whatnot. Maybe it's a psychological thing where Apocalypse burrows his way into a person's subconscious and plants a seed that grows into something dark and twisted, which warps how that person thinks and perceives the rest of the world.

I see Archangel describing it as Apocalypse sifting through every memory and experience a mutant has ever had, looking for their absolute lowest, most vulnerable moment, when they feel utterly alone, hopeless and are most in need... and in that moment, Apocalypse appears to them (in their subconscious) like a savior and offers them a hand.

Them taking his hand symbolizes them surrendering to his influence and allows him to set up shop in their head, so the Horseman persona can take over. So if the X-men want to save Remy, they're going to have to deprogram him by getting inside his mind and finding that moment, so they can stop him from accepting Apocalypse's offer.

So maybe the X-men have to fight Deathbit to immobilize him. This gives Xavier an opening where he'd use Cerebro to boost his telepathy enough to get through Apocalypse's mental defenses, so he can take Rogue, go inside Deathbit's mind and start poking around in Remy's memories.

This is where Remy's arc can come in because they can do a lot of cool character stuff here. They start by looking at his childhood. Maybe they see him as a little kid in an orphanage (pre-thieves guild) with the nuns who run the place calling him "le diable blanc" and trying to beat the devil out of him. Then, after the beating, Apocalypse appears to child Remy and offers his hand... but Remy turns away.

They see teenage Remy having just run away from Belladonna and the thieves guild, having to leave his home, his first love and the only family he ever had. He's alone, miserable, heartbroken... again Apocalypse appears and offers his hand... and again Remy turns away.

They see Remy in Paris with Genevieve Darceneaux and her winding up dead simply because Remy Lebeau entered her life. As he stands over her grave, feeling guilt-stricken and heartsick, once more Apocalypse appears, offering him salvation, to free him from his self-loathing... and once more Remy turns away.

You know where I'm going with this, right?

Finally, they end up at the Genoshan gala on the night of the attack. A heartbroken Remy watches Rogue dance with Magneto, but can't stomach it and walks out. He sits alone outside, feeling utterly desolate, wondering if everything he thought him and Rogue had meant to each other was all for nothing.

One final time, Apocalypse reaches out... extends his hand... and in his despair... Remy takes it. That's the moment they have to stop.

The rest pretty much writes itself. Rogue jumps in between Remy and Apocalypse. Maybe there's a psychic battle with Xavier keeping Apocalypse at bay while Rogue tries to get through to Remy, finally telling him what really happened, that she'd actually rejected Magneto, realizing that Remy was right about what they have being "deeper than skin," but his self-loathing rears its' ugly head and he refuses to listen to her.

So finally, Rogue does what fans have been waiting for for 6 seasons, across 2 different cartoon series and 3 freaking decades: She finally tells him that she loves him... and she kisses him (they're on the psychic plane, so they don't have to worry about her powers hurting him here).

Maybe Rogue has gotten through to Remy and maybe she hasn't. His reaction is ambiguous, he still seems confused...

Xavier can't hold Apocalypse back anymore. Apocalypse confronts Remy and offers his hand again. It looks like Remy is reaching out to take it... but instead, he hands Apocalypse the Queen of Hearts card, which explodes in his face.

Apocalypse's hold over Remy is broken, the Deathbit persona is gone.

If they wrote something like that, I'd be pretty happy. But given how season 1 turned out, I'll probably have to lower my expectations.

[cherishedproperty]

Save Room for a Little Light

I read something this morning about Cher’s autobiography (weird inspiration for a post, but stick with me). It said that she contemplated suicide because she was stuck in a loveless marriage. Now, I’ve never read the autobiography and don’t have any more details about the situation than that. But even with those few sentences, I was thrown back to the last year of my marriage.

I was married to a good man—a man who loved me a ridiculous amount and really strived to be a good husband to me. And I was miserable. For a long time, I told myself it was my fault. I was broken. I was depressed. I had to be fucked up if I felt lonely and unhappy with him…right?

I reached a point where I thought seriously about ending my life. I wished for a terminal illness or to just get hit by a bus and die instantly. I didn’t want my family to think I chose to leave them, but I genuinely thought they’d be better off without me. My husband would always remember me as his loving wife. He would find someone else to love who would also love our daughter. And I’d just be a distant memory for her, while someone else would become her real mother. And she’d be better at it than I could be. It brings tears to my eyes, thinking about it now. But at the time, my death felt less damaging to them than divorce.

Obviously, I didn’t choose that path. I chose to end our marriage, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It took me a long time to understand that my happiness was important, too (sometimes I still have trouble believing that). And with my happiness, I saw new happiness growing in my daughter. A weight was lifted off my heart, and it allowed me to be the mother she really deserved. We had dance parties and movie nights and long conversations about her stuffed animals’ birthdays. There was light—for the first time in a long time. And it kept growing.

I wish I could tell you that the darkness never came back. But it did. I’ve sat with it many times. But I have never been able to get myself to believe that my daughter’s life would be better without me in it. I know that the joy in her heart would be forever dimmed. That alone has pulled me back from the darkness more than a few times.

And now I have so much more. I have Monsieur. I have our dog and the home we have made together. I have someone who understands the darkness and makes sure there is always enough light to pull me back.

The last two years have been the longest depressive episode of my life. Not the worst, but the longest. But I’ve been doing a lot of work toward healing in the last six months. I’ve been working through some of the patterns that pull me toward darkness, and I’ve been cultivating new sources of light.

In the hard times, what I keep telling myself is this: Your happiness matters. Your happiness has inherent value, just as much as anyone else’s. Your happiness does not mean other people’s unhappiness—though it may mean they have to find a new path to happiness. Or you do. And that’s okay. There is always a new path.

I’ve been down the darkest road Set fire to all my homes One thing I learned in life Save room for a little light I know you’ve been so close To the edge of letting go Before you say goodbye Save room for a little light —Jelly Roll, “Little Light”

[askinkiskarma]

The Archer | Chapter II: Out of the Woods

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

Summary: A fight with Neteyam makes you run to the forest with the rest of the Sully kids, right into the arms of the enemy. You come face to face with a man you never thought you'd ever get to see.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 10,2k words

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

A/N: I am writing this at 2am, so my apologies for any grammar errors, I am exhausteddd!! I don't know if you can tell, but I am actually really struggling writing any of the scenes (particularly action scenes) from the movie, and describing what is happening on the screen is the bane of my life. Also, sometimes I can't understand what the dialogue is and I can't find the script or english subtitles and it makes me unnecessarily upset. Also my inspo for the dad is Oscar Isaac cause wow what a man. Can he be my daddy too? Hahahaha ok i'm so tired i'm gonna go to sleep enjoyyy x

Remember when I hit the brakes too soon? Twenty stitches in a hospital room

When you started crying, baby, I did too, but when the sun came up, I was looking at you

Remember when we couldn't take the heat? You walked out, you said "I'm setting you free"

But the monsters turned out to be just trees, when the sun came up you were looking at me

You watched Neteyam leave the comfort of your shared tent and you instantly knew he felt horrible about what he said. You knew he didn’t mean it, but in this moment, you didn’t care. He had to have meant it to a certain degree for it to come out so easily out of his mouth. 

As you were preparing to leave, unable to spend the night in this place, in this tent, where everything hurt, where every corner had photos and trinkets and memories that you couldn’t bear look at in this moment, you heard a squeaky voice you loved break through the unbearable silence. You were a mess, you knew, paint splattered all over your face, neck and torso, seeping into the woven fabric of your top, but you wouldn’t deny her - you couldn’t. 

“Come in, Tuk-tuk.” 

She gently opened the flap and walked in sheepishly, carrying your mother’s guitar that you gifted to her almost a year ago. 

“I’m sorry about Neteyam.” She looked so sad you almost started crying again, this pure soul who felt and cared for everything around her, listened to everyone and always made you feel important, always made you feel heard. 

You knelt and opened your arms in her direction, and you saw her place the guitar carefully on the ground and run into your open arms. 

“Oh, my dear girl, you have nothing to be sorry about. That is between me and him, it has nothing to do with you, alright, baby?”

“But it does have to do with me, because he is wrong. You have a family, you have always had a family. We’re your family. Sullys stick together.” 

The tears started as if completely independent from the rest of your body, and you couldn’t stop the cry that made its way out of your throat without your consent. This little girl you loved so much managed to undo so much of her brother’s mistakes in just a few words, and you felt so grateful to have her in your life, so grateful to have someone to call a sister. 

“Baby, I was going to go wash this whole day off, would you like to come with me? We can take Neyn, we can bring the guitar, you can sing to me the song I showed you?” 

“Yay, adventure time!”

You chuckled at this 9 year old who reminded you a lot of Lo’ak at her age, always up for new experiences, as long as it avoided the boredom of the mundane. You knew you were going to get in trouble with Jake and Neytiri for taking their youngest away at night, but right now you just needed to be away from here, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to turn away this precious soul who just made you less miserable in just a few minutes.

You sneaked out of your tent, feeling stupid for feeling like you had to sneak out in the first place, like you were an unruly teenager, not a full-grown adult who just got her heart broken by her mate. He should be sneaking out. As a matter of fact, he should be sneaking in, begging on his knees for your forgiveness, like he used to when he was young. I guess that’s just another thing that has changed in the year you have become mated. You signalled for Tuk to get on your ikran, who was dozed off next to the rest of your family’s, and you cursed yourself for waking her up after such a traumatic day. 

“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” You said with a kiss on her snout, and she cooed affectionately at you. You made the tsaheylu and you couldn’t feel any fear, anxiety or frustration in her thoughts, which put your mind at ease a little, and, with a hand on the neural whip and the other wrapped tightly around Tuk’s chest, you took flight. 

It was a short trip to the cave you and Neteyam come to all the time, the one that had a small subterranean lake that you would sometimes wash in. The water was absolutely freezing, never seeing the light of day, but it was peaceful and clean, and that sounded as good to you as heaven right now. You dove in without a second thought, the freezing water inundating all your senses, healing all the wounds that were scratching painfully at your heart. 

Why would he say that? 

I mean, you did attack him about saving his baby brother, who would have probably died if it wasn’t for him.

He should’t have to keep saving Lo’ak at his own expense. 

He shouldn’t have to, but he does. Lo’ak wants to prove himself, and Neteyam is a protector by nature. It’s like asking water to not be wet. 

I want to kill Lo’ak.

No, you don’t. Because you understand Lo’ak. You’re sad for Lo’ak, for always living in his brother’s shadow, for always getting the cold shoulder from his dad, who you also know is just being harsh because he has to be, because no one else can be. 

What if he dies? What do I do then?

 

Your mind didn’t have a quippy answer to that - or any answer at all. You were left alone, with no answers and enough terror to fill this whole floating cave and overflow around it. You emerged from the water and got on your back, just floating aimlessly, trying to get your heart to stop pounding in your chest and the tears stop pricking at your eyes. What if he dies?

“Can I swim with you?” 

Tuk’s question pulled you out of your frightened contemplation, and you realised you have probably been unnervingly quiet for too long. 

“It’s really cold, Tuk-tuk, I don’t want you to get sick. How about I take you to a warmer lake tomorrow and we can swim together, would you like that?” 

“YES!” 

“Can I come, too?” 

The deep voice stopped you in your tracks, and you almost drowned when your feet stopped paddling underwater to keep you upright. 

“NETEYAM!” Regardless how upset Tuk was at her older brother’s words, Neteyam would always be her favourite. Her favourite sibling, her favourite family member. Some people in the village loved asking Jake and Neytiri whether Tuk was more a mother’s or a father’s girl, but in reality, Tuk was her brother’s girl. 

“Hi, Tuk. What are you doing here? You want to give mother and father a heart attack?” The little girl’s face was nestled in Neteyam’s neck, hidden from sight behind his long braids that moved as she chuckled. 

“I wanted to keep my sister company.”

“You need to go to sleep, parultsyìp. How about I take you back home and then I can keep her company?” 

“Will you apologise?” 

Neteyam shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and looked to the ground - he was embarrassed. 

“Yes, I will apologise. Come, let’s go.” He let her down and patted her back affectionately to get her to go ahead before him.

“Please don’t leave? I’ll come as soon as I make sure she’s with my parents.” He looked at you pleadingly, begging you silently. A year ago you would have ran for the hills, took off to not be found by anyone, but just like so many other things, this has also changed. You weren’t a child anymore, careless and impulsive, controlled by your never-ending grief and anger; you had to be better. You were someone’s daughter now, someone’s mate, someone’s sister. You were a future Tsa’hik, you were one of the best warriors in the clan. People depended on you. Despite what Neteyam so cruelly told you, you did have a family. And he was part of it. So you would wait. 

You nodded without looking at him, and you heard him sigh in relief. He placed something on the ground before he turned on his heels with Tuk in his arms, and you noticed with a sudden burst of pain felt all within you that it was a flower bouquet. That’s why he took so long…

You washed yourself properly now that you were alone, and when you got out, you noticed the guitar that Tuk forgot to pick up with her still resting on a wall of the cave. You sat next to it, back resting on the same wall, and picked it up, your mind immediately wandering to your mum. With everything going on around you, you have not been able to visit the Tree of Souls after your consciousness transfer. It’s been a year since you saw your mum as you lay dying and you regretted every day not going back to visit, to see if you could see her again, see if Eywa would be able to bring her back to you, at least in this way. The guitar was tiny in your hands now, but you could still play the chord if you were really careful. You started strumming a song, and let yourself sing to let out the hurt and fright. 

Looking at it now, it all seemed so simple, we were lying on my couch, I remember 

You took a Polaroid of us, and then discovered the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming colour

Your bracelet hanging from my hand, the night we couldn’t quite forget, when we decided

To move the furniture so we could dance, baby, like we stood a chance, two paper airplanes flying

And I remember thinking, are we out of the woods yet? Are we in the clear yet?

Are we out of the woods yet? Are we in the clear yet? 

“Well… we are definitely out of the woods.” 

You saw Neteyam’s shadowy figure slowly walking towards you, deeper in the cave, the silhouette of his body and the braids swinging from of side to the other to only thing you can make out in the darkness. You glared in his direction and he winced, already regretting his words. 

He sat down in front of you, with his legs crossed so your knees were touching. He reached a hand to your knee and caressed it gently. 

“Thank you for waiting.” 

You refused to look at him, instead opting for the dimly illuminated lake to your left, that twinkled every time a drop of water would fall from the ceiling. You traced the stalactites and their curious shapes, fascinated with they clung to the wall, when you felt Neteyam’s hand on your cheek, softly turning your face to face him. 

“Atan, please, look at me. I can’t stand it when you refuse to look at me.”

Tears fell from your eyes like water from the roof of the cave, and eventually you looked at him, and saw his pained expression, and you knew how bad he felt. You could feel it in your soul, his misery, but it did very little to comfort you. It was easy to feel bad after the fact. 

“Atan… I am so sorry. I could never express into words how sorry I am, I will pay my whole life for what I said, what I spat at you in a moment of stupid anger. I just want you to know that it isn’t true. What I said, it isn’t true. You’ve always had a family. You’ve always had us, and Norm and Max. You’ve always had me. I have been your family my whole life, and I am so, so sorry. There’s no excuse for what I said.” 

“I forgive you.” You placed your hand on his chest when you noticed him trying to get close to you. ‘I’m not finished.” 

“I forgive you. But I need some time.” 

“What do you mean you need some time?” 

“I mean, I have to figure out how I will do this. How I could possibly do this. How I can watch the man I promised to spend the rest of my life with kill himself before the rest of my life can ever come, and learn to ever be ok with it. 

You were right. I never had a family. I had a mum who didn’t want to live past my tenth birthday, friends I cared for, but that lived in a completely different world to mine, people that tried to be there for me but I pushed them away, a dead dad and you. A guy I loved my whole life who left me without saying goodbye. I’ve never had a family. 

But I have one now. And you’re right. You’re right, it isn’t a choice. If I had to choose between my life any of yours, I would give mine up in an instant. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure you are safe. So I do get it. But that doesn’t mean that I can watch you do it. 

I know how hard this is on you… how much this enormous unspoken pressure weighs on you. Being Olo’eyktan, being the oldest son, the big brother, the protector. I know you won’t say it, and you won’t complain, but I know. You have nightmares, and you cry in your sleep. You cry for your dad, and for Lo’ak… for Tuk… for me. I hoped that you would talk to me about it, and I’ll be here to listen when you feel ready. I’m sorry you feel like you have to go through this alone. 

But I don’t know if I can’t stand and watch you kill yourself. Because it will kill me too. So until I figure it out, I need some time.”

Neteyam was shedding silent tears that refused to stay hidden, and he felt his heart break at all your words, each one harder to hear than the last. Time? He didn’t have time. Time was for a different period of your lives, before the humans came, when you were young and wild and free to run through the forest whenever you pleased. Time was for when you made him sit through an entire season of a show he couldn’t understand half the words to, but he was just happy to sit in silence next to you, hearing your laughter bless his ears, his mind, his soul. Time was for when he took his siblings through the forest to forage for rocks and beads because Kiri wanted to make them all something special to wear for his second birth. There was no more time, no more future, no more past. Just the now, waiting to see what the humans have planned next, what hell they’ll rain on this planet this time, and who will suffer as a consequence. 

“Atan…” 

“I don’t want to put you out, so I will go sleep with the rest of the Avatars for a while. I have work to do in the lab anyway, so it’ll probably work better this way anyway.” 

Neteyam saw you get up from where you sat, deep coldness settling where your knees weren’t touching him anymore and dispersing all throughout his body. He saw your back turn and you made your way out of the cave, stopping to pick up the flowers that he spent an hour collecting for you. You brought them closer to your face and smelled them, smiling sadly.

“Thank you for the flowers. It’s good to know at least some things haven’t changed. I love you, Neteyam. I’m sorry.” 

Neteyam couldn’t find it in him to get up from the floor, and he felt the hopelessness envelop him like a blanket that he was suffocating under. What was he supposed to do? What did this mean? Is this a human thing? Neteyam remembers when you were much younger and you had to explain to him the concept of a “break”, after making him sit through a whole Friends marathon. Is this what this was? You were asking him for a break? Were you breaking up with him? Today just feels like a never-ending nightmare, and he was hoping that you would wake him up, like you always did, comforting him and singing him back to sleep. He didn’t have it in him to go back to the camp, so he lay on the cold ground of the cave, and let himself fall into a restless slumber - even if real nightmares did invade his subconsciousness, how much worse could they get?

You spent the next few days mostly in the lab, trying to take care of everyone who was affected in the fateful mission that left more than physical scars behind. It was a full-time job, as there were a lot of victims that required surgical intervention, which you were more than happy to do yourself. You’d like to think that it was because it would bring you peace - helping others - but you knew deep down you were also happy to be able to avoid Neteyam. You felt bad for what you said, bad for distancing yourself from someone you loved more than life itself, but you were still hurt and angry, still terrified and paralysed at the thought of losing him. You don’t know what this distance would achieve, but you were hoping for some clarity and perspective. 

Norm and Max came in the little lab you turned into an intervention room as you were finishing checking in on the people you operated on a couple days ok, making sure their vitals were normal. 

“OK - spill. What happened?” You heard Norm speak over the machines beeping in the room.

“What do you mean?” You removed your gloves and quietly made your way out of the lab.

“You’re never here this much anymore. I’m sure there are better things to be doing, and you know very well me and Max, or hell, Claire and Tim can take care of people post-operatively. We all know how to stitch wounds, Ace.”

“Not as well as me.”

“True, but definitely better than we would be at scouting and hunting, which is what you should be doing. So something happened. Had a fight with Neteyam?”

“Of sorts.” 

You reached the dry labs and sat on one of the chairs that you barely fit in anymore; your elbow resting on your thighs, you put your head in your hands and sighed deeply.

“You’re gonna remove all the oxygen in the room if you sigh that hard.” 

“We fought about the mission a few days ago. Lo’ak disobeyed Jake and got himself in danger - as usual -, and Neteyam got hit by the explosion as a result. I yelled at him about it, he yelled at me, it got ugly. I told him I need space. So I’m taking space.” 

“So that’s why you’re sleeping in our tent. I knew it wasn’t just so you could check on people easier. Liar.” 

“It’s not a complete lie, but yeah.” 

“So what were you yelling to each other about?” 

“So I said -“ 

Loud commotion happened around you as the door to the outside opened and in came Lo’ak, Kiri and Spider.

“Yeah, haha, real hysterical, you guys. You know what really sucks, though? That you can breathe the air here for hours, and I can only breath your air for like ten seconds.”

“Yeah, monkey boy, that really sucks. For you.”

Spider and Kiri have always been close, but recently, you felt a shift in their dynamic. It was a lot more flirtatious than friendly, and you couldn’t help wonder if there is something going on beneath the surface. Their interactions reminded you a lot of you and Neteyam’s before he left, just intimate enough they didn’t feel platonic anymore. Having been in Spider’s shoes, if there was, you felt bad for him. It was a slow poison, loving someone you know you could never have - whose body is literally incompatible to your own. You have always felt bad that you got an Avatar and Spider didn’t. In reality, you felt like he deserved it more. He has always been so connected to the Na’vi, so inseparable from the Sullys, so desperate for a family and a sense of belonging. Nobody knew this, but you were working hard to try to see if it was possible to build him one too. It would take time, but with the new technology and supplies the humans brought with them, maybe it wasn’t a pipe dream anymore. 

Kiri finally acknowledged your presence. 

“Hey, everyone!” 

“Hey, kids!” Max chipped in enthusiastically. He loved when the Sullys came to visit. 

“Hey, what’s up, Max?” 

You didn’t look at Lo’ak, although he came really close to you and sat on a chair in front of yours. He moved on the chair until he was face to face with you, and put both of his hands on either side of you on the arm rests to force you to face him. 

“Angel, are you going to be upset with me forever?” 

You scowled at him and he smiled, and you melted a little. You could never stay mad at Lo’ak. 

“You are a public menace, do you understand this?” it was his turn to scowl now, and he turned his gaze away from you - he seemed upset. You took his face in both your hands and brought his gaze back to yours.

“Lo’ak, I need you to be more careful. Please. I can’t lose you. And I can’t lose Neteyam, who will die one day trying to protect you. I know it’s hard, I know there’s so much you want to do and so much you want to prove, but please. Try?” You were looking at him as seriously and warmly as you could, pleading him to hear you, pleading that he would listen. He looked at you intently for a long time, and eventually, he nodded softly, looking remorseful. You moved his head downward a little so you had better access to his forehead and you gave him a quick peck, and noticed the slight purplish tint of his cheeks. You could never stay mad at Lo’ak. 

“We’re going to go take a walk in the woods, come with us, please? I know you’re mad at Neteyam, but you can’t stay here forever. Even Norm and Max go out more than you.” 

“Lo’ak, you shouldn’t be walking through the woods, you know this.” 

“We’re not going to go far. We’re even taking Tuk, you know we would never put her in any danger.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “She blackmailed you to come, didn’t she?”

You saw Lo’ak rolls his eyes and huff in annoyance. “…yes.” 

“Fine, I’m literally only coming to make sure Tuk is safe.”

“I’ll take it. Let’s go, gang!!” 

You had to admit it felt really good to be out, to just run on the huge vines that connected the Hallelujah mountains to the ground and to each other. It felt like a blessing to be able to still enjoy these views, these moments with your siblings, even amidst the chaos that was erupting everywhere around you. You went like this for ages, and even though you knew you should have gone back, knew Lo’ak was again pushing his luck and the safety of everyone here, you couldn’t find it in you to stop him. You wanted this, you craved the warmth and safety the forest gave you, your forever home, your forever first love. Even the thought of returning back to camp in a couple hours made you sad. So you decided to focus on the now, and just enjoy the time you’ve got.

It was close to eclipse when you decided to make your way back. The kids were not allowed past curfew, and you didn’t want to risk it, especially with Tuk around. You were disappointed, but not surprised when Lo’ak stopped in his tracks and moved away from your path to inspect something he found on the ground.

“What is it?” Kiri said, in an exasperated tone, and you found yourself mirroring her sentiments. 

You saw Lo’ak and Spider hovering over a patch on the ground and you decided to go investigate.

“We’re always supposed to be home by eclipse.” You heard Tuk join in. 

Your mouth dropped at the sight in front of you. Shoe prints, made by boots that couldn’t be worn by any human. You recognised the pattern of the sole, as you have seen it before among clothes worn by the RDA soldiers. Military combat boots. Your heart was thumping in your chest at the only possible explanation. You started looking around you, and you felt the all-too-familiar dread building in your stomach, greeting you like an old friend. You barely registered the words that Spider and Lo’ak were exchanging.

“It’s way too big for a human.”

“Avatars?”

“Maybe, but for sure not ours.” 

You saw Lo’ak move towards where the footprints were headed, and you tried to will your legs to move, to stop them, tried to will yourself to speak, but you couldn’t find the words, just dread. Just pure fear at every possible scenario that could take place, your mind computing all your worst nightmares and displaying them to you like on an outdoor cinema screen. Eventually, you started moving your legs and made your way in front of Lo’ak, positioning your body, now just as strong and tall as his, in front of him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m tracking.” 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” You were trying so hard to keep your voice down,  but it was hard to do when you felt rage replacing the anxiety and spilling over all around you. 

“Angel, we have to see who it is. Whoever it is will never find us, this is our territory. We have to bring back the intel, and what are we going to say when dad asks us what did we see? We need to find out more.” 

“Lo’ak, we are not prepared for this. I don’t have my gun, or a radio, or my bow. I have a knife. I’m not putting Kiri and Tuk in danger. We can go back and we can track tomorrow and figure it out. We know they’re Avatars. What you don’t know is that they’re military.”

You saw his face drop. “Yeah, that’s right. Those boots? They were worn by the RDA soldiers that murdered so many of our people. They’re larger now, but the imprint on them is the same. They fucking brought Avatar soldiers here this time. This is fucking serious. We have to go.” 

He thought about it for a while. You hoped that he would listen, you hoped that he would abide by what you talked about only a few hours ago. 

“We will be careful. We will keep our distance. Let’s just see what they’re doing, at least.” 

You growled at him loudly, but said nothing, and the shock overtook your body when you realised that you were following him. You tried to tell your body to move, to take Kiri and Tuk and leave, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him or Spider, couldn’t bear the thought of them getting hurt and you not being there to help. Fuck, you owed Neteyam an apology. 

You followed the tracks for a while, until you found them, and you kept your distance in the bushes and observed quietly. You could see six people in the clearing where 19 years ago, Jake and Neytiri defeated Quaritch, Spider’s dad. It was a forbidden place, cursed by dark, ominous energy that will plague this land for many years to come. The people were clearly Avatars, dressed in camo outfits, carrying so much weaponry it was making your knees shake. Every cell in your body was begging you to move, begging you to run, but you couldn’t, not until Lo’ak the rest of them were safely behind you. So you waited, trying to gather as much information as you could. The Avatars were searching the hub for any sign of recent life, and they took particular interest in exo-suit that you know belonged to Quaritch. In it, there were 2 arrows that you recognised as Neytiri’s, the emerald green feathers a dead giveaway. You never knew exactly how Spider’s dad died, and neither did he, so you wondered what feelings were plaguing him watching this unfold. 

“We are never supposed to be here.” Kiri says, in a forceful tone. “Dad is going to ground you…”

“Shh, Kiri.” Lo’ak said exasperatedly, talking over his sister. “…for life.” 

“Bro, we have got to check this out.” 

You put your arm in front of the two boys. “Absolutely not. This is as far as we go. Call this in, now. I don’t have my radio.” 

“No, bro, we’re gonna get in trouble.” You gave Spider a death stare, at his seemingly unending recklessness. 

“Call it in, now. I’m not going to repeat myself again.” 

“You sound like dad.”

Neteyam’s mood has been in a rapid decline over the last few days. He hasn’t seen you since that night, clear to him you were doing anything in your power to avoid him. Instead of thinking of the potential demise of your relationship and how that put his fucking heart through the meat grinder, he instead decided to bury himself in work and training, and try to spend some time with his parents that he very rarely seemed to talk to anymore outside of war-talk. His childhood was long gone, he realises - where he was just a kid, surrounded by so much love it was almost suffocating, full of laughter and joy, full of his dad’s Earth stories and his mum’s impressions, full of hope and light. His parents were now soldiers, generals, commanders, and he was just a subordinate, a corporal trying to help out in the best way he knew how. There were definitely perks to being an adult, and Neteyam could list just about all of them staring in between your legs, but there were times, such as now, that he wishes his parents would be his parents again, and he could just be a little kid again, spoiled, cherished and unencumbered by life’s tragedies.

The three of them were high in the Hallelujah mountains, returning from a full day of scouting and tracking, when Lo’ak’s voice through the radio interrupted his train of thought. 

“Devil Dog, Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye, over.”

“Eagle Eye, send your traffic.”

“I got eyes on some guys. They look like Avatars, but they’re in full camo and carrying ARs. There’s six of them, over.”

“What’s your post?” 

“Um... We’re at the old shack.”

“Who’s we?”

“Me, Spider, Kiri…Quickscope…and Tuk.” 

Neteyam’s knees felt like they were buckling underneath him. He was dizzy, and he felt Seze’s flight becoming unsteady as his mind was collapsing into a puddle of mush. Lo’ak… Spider… Kiri… Tuk… and you. His whole world. He could lose everything in a second. What the fuck were all of you doing in the forest? Why the fuck were all of you in the one place that was strictly forbidden? If it was Lo’ak and Spider he could maybe understand the stupidity, but you? The thought that you went along with this, with Tuk next to you boiled his blood - it was easier to be angry than to admit how immeasurably scared he actually was.

“Son, you listen to me very carefully. Pull back right now, do not make a sound, and get the hell out of there. Move. Copy?”

“Yes, sir, moving out.” 

Neteyam’s entire body was lit up with pure adrenaline, coursing through his veins like ice water, sharpening his senses. He had to save you. All of you. He had to do something.

“Dad. I know a quick way.” He didn’t stop to see if his parents were following, but he heard his mother letting out a war cry behind him, so he assumed they were. He had to save you. He couldn’t lose you again.

“You’re gonna be in so much trouble.” You heard Kiri whispering to her brother.

“Kiri, stop. This is not the time.” You heard yourself say. You were gonna kill Lo’ak yourself, but right now, you just had to focus on getting out of here. Getting them out of here.

You saw Tuk run ahead and you wanted to tell her to slow down, but she spoke before you. “It’s almost eclipse, come on!!” 

Out from the bushes came Avatars, so many of them they outnumbered you at least 2 to 1. A woman grabbed Tuk, holding her tightly and you hissed aggressively and pulled out your knife from its sheath, but you knew immediately it would do very little against so many military people carrying fucking machine guns that were pointed at your face, and worse, at the faces of the people you loved. 

You heard the Avatars screaming at you, telling you all to put down your weapons, and you did, knowing there was no other choice. This wasn’t a battle you could win, this wasn’t even a battle you could start. You saw Lo’ak throw his bow on the ground, but Spider was unrelenting. 

“Drop it. Drop it.” Lo’ak warned Spider in Na’vi, and you thanked your lucky star that he was being at least a tiny bit reasonable. 

You were pulled forcefully by someone tugging you by your hair and pinning your arms together, holding them tightly, mirroring what was happening to your siblings around you. Tuk was crying, and your heart tugged at the sound, desperate to help her, a deep maternal instinct rising within you, and you felt rage and adrenaline fill your body. 

A few more Avatars made their way to the group. One of them looked a little older, and by the way all the others shifted towards him subconsciously, you reckoned he was the leader. Two men were following him closely, and a profound, unsettling feeling overcame you. They looked…familiar. The first one was bald. The second one had wavy hair and looked slightly different than all the others. He looked…dignified. Like he didn’t quite belong. Like his clothes were unbecoming on his body. You somehow felt you knew this man, and when you looked next to him at the first guy and his tattoo, at the girl holding Kiri… when you looked closely at all of them, your body jerked violently and your mouth fell agape. 

It couldn’t be… no…

Quaritch. Weinfleet. Pike. 

…Your dad… 

You didn’t understand what you were feeling at the moment, a mix that you have never experienced before, but at the forefront was gaping confusion and horror, shock and fear, and deep within you, maybe even a little bit of excitement. Could that actually be your dad? How is that possible? You buried his bones, you saw Weinfleet’s skeleton in the forest, you just saw Quaritch’s at the Shack. How could this be? 

You saw Weinfleet stalk towards you and he took a hold of your hand and forcefully brought it up. “Colonel, check it out. Four fingers. We’ve got a half-breed.” 

They thought you were Na’vi. Good. They realised you were born with Avatar blood, so you were most likely Jake’s. That made you valuable to them. Bad. The man behind you was pulling on your queue to lift your chin up so Quaritch can look at you properly. They were pulling on your arm and you felt pain all over, that was overshadowed by so many other emotions flooding your being. He inspected you shortly, and then moved on to Kiri and Lo’ak. 

“Show me your fingers.” Lo’ak brought both his hands up and flipped him off. You would laugh if your body could still produce any ounce of serotonin. 

You saw Quaritch smile crudely, eyeing Lo’ak up and down. “You’re his, aren’t you?” He continued smiling as Lo’ak hissed at him and took him by his hair, pulling him towards his eye level. 

“Where is he?” 

“Sorry, I don’t speak English…with assholes.” 

“Where is your father?” His accent was thick, and he butchered the words and pronunciation, but there was no mistaking what he wanted. Jake. So this is what it was all about. Even after 19 years, the RDA was willing to spend hundreds of millions of dollars in order to eliminate the Olo’eyktan. It was a good investment, you thought, considering there was only so much the humans can do with Jake in the picture. You wondered what they were willing to do to get to him. Would they kill you off, one by one? Would your dad kill you to get to Jake?

Lo’ak said nothing, only hissing in pain when the man kept tugging at his queue aggressively. You heard wails all around you coming from Kiri and Tuk, but you were focused on only one thing. Figuring out an escape route. You knew Neytiri and Jake were on their way, since Lo’ak alerted them to your location. It was only a matter of time before they arrived. Eclipse was also only about 10 more minutes away, so you would have the cover of darkness soon, which was an advantage to you, but not to them. Lucky for you, they tied your hands in front of you, which means you could still use them. You probed the strength of the hand ties, and realised quickly you weren’t getting out of them without a knife. The man holding you was keeping you close to his body. You recoiled in disgust, but tried to shimmy your body into him to feel for any possible things you could use. He was wearing an army vest. You felt grenades and ammo poking you in the back. You moved subtly a bit more, making it seem like the position was just uncomfortable, and felt a military knife holder in your lower back. Bingo. 

Quaritch took out a knife, and threatened Lo’ak with it, but soon moved along the line to Kiri. There was screaming coming from all the boys, but Spider’s voice broke through and Quaritch turned around to face him. It must be a weird sight to see, a human amongst the Na’vi, clearly young enough to have been raised here. You wondered if Spider connected the dots, if he figured out who the man standing if front of him was. You gave silent thanks to your mum and the scientists for the Avatar again. 

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Spider… Socorro.”

Quaritch’s face changed, the sly smirk faltered and his expression was shocked, when it dawned on him the kid standing in front of him was his son. 

Neteyam and his parents landed as eclipse set in, enveloping the nature in bioluminescent glow. It would be beautiful if he wasn’t on the edge of losing his goddamn mind. He grabbed his bow and patted Seze before he made his way towards the shack. His dad turned around and put a hand in front of him. Neteyam’s nose flared at the words he knew were coming.

“No, no. You stay with the ikran.” 

“No.” 

“Neteyam…” his mother was trying to defuse the situation the best way she knew how. 

“I’m not going to say it again.” 

“You are not leaving me behind. I am older than mum was when the Sky People attacked the first time. My mate is out there. My brothers and sisters. I am coming.” 

Neteyam saw his dad looking at him intently, thinking about it for a while. Eventually, he relents and nods curtly. 

“You stay behind, do you read me, boy? Your mother and I will go first, so they think it’s just two of us. You stand and attack from behind when the opportunity arises.”

Neteyam agreed, although still disappointed. It was better than nothing.

“Let’s go.”

After splitting from his parents, Neteyam made his way quietly through the forest to a high point by which he could spot you and his siblings. He gasped silently and he could feel his heart in his throat, making him pant in shallow breaths, that were leaving him dizzy and disoriented. So many Avatars, all in military clothing, all carrying heavy guns, all holding at knifepoint the people he loved most in the world. He saw you and his breath stopped altogether, wet hair and a concerned, but focused expression on your face. Your eyes were scanning all of them, scanning the forest, it’s almost like you could tell they were here, that he was here. 

From far away, he heard his mum’s signature distress signal echoing through the forest. It was inconspicuous enough that to the undiscerning ears it probably sounded like a bird or a forest animal, but Neteyam saw all of your ears perk and your heads snapping in the direction it came from. Neteyam knew you were all trained for this, trained for emergency situations, and he felt a tug of gratitude for his father’s military ways that will most likely save their lives tonight.

The unmistakable sound of Neytiri’s call brought relief that washed over you like the raindrops falling from the sky. You knew then the kids will be alright. You looked at Lo’ak and you nodded almost imperceptibly in the direction of the guy at your 12 o’clock who was facing you both and had a smoke bomb clearly displayed on his vest. He looked at it and nodded back, and you knew he understood. You got this. 

With a loud thud that declared the beginning of the rescue mission, the man holding both Kiri and Spider was knocked to the ground, a green arrow sticking out of his forehead. The man holding you pushed you aside to get his gun, and without a second thought, you removed the knife from his holder and slit his throat. The blood went all over you, on your face and torso, but you didn’t care.

“LO’AK!” You screamed, and the boy released the pin from the smoke bomb, enveloping the whole area in green smoke. 

You stabbed another man in the neck at the same time Lo’ak and Tuk bit the people holding them, and ran for the woods. Good. 

You managed to run as well, trying to dodge the barrage of gunshots being released all around you, but you felt someone harshly pulling you backwards by your queue. You cried out, as pain dispersed from your spine all around you body, but the pull stopped when the woman who grabbed you got an arrow on the side of her head that came out the other side. The shot came from a different angle, and you knew that was Neteyam. You ran as soon as you were released, making sure to take the machine gun she was carrying in her hand before you sprinted to a tree that could provide cover. 

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, and poked your head out so you could shoot whoever was still alive. You realised from the angle you were at, you had a perfect shot…that would kill your dad. Was this man even your dad? Would sparing his life for your own twisted desperation for answers and closure cost your new family theirs? Your finger went to the trigger, putting slight pressure on it. Just a little more pressure, and it would be over. Tears welled in your eyes and with a silent curse and gasped breaths, you lowered your gun and got back undercover.  

“Is that you, Mrs. Sully? I recognise your calling card.”

“Why don’t you come on out, Mrs. Sully? You and I, we’ve got some…unfinished business.” 

You saw the kids running in the distance, and you felt so much safer, so much gratitude in knowing they were going to be okay. That’s all that mattered in this moment, that Tuk, and Kiri, and Lo’ak and Spider make it back home in one piece. 

“DEMON! I will kill you as many times as I have to.” Neytiri’s voice sent shivers down your spine, so much hatred, so much intensity behind it.

“Guess you and the corporal got pretty busy, haven’t you? Got yourself a whole litter of half-breeds.” 

You saw the reflection of the gun in the corner of your eye before you had a chance to process it, and you heard a man scream “Na’vi!”, followed by the unmistakable sound of shots being fired where you stood. You saw the bullets like in slow motion, and you knew then you were done for. You were just happy everyone else was going to make it. You were happy Neteyam was going to make it. You closed your eyes in anticipation of the pain, but the pain you expected never came. Instead, you were pushed to the ground and another type of pain, the pain the came with scratches all over your body and the wind getting knocked out you, brought you back to reality and you registered Neteyam’s unmistakable pheromones flooding your entire being. 

“MOVE! GO, GO, GO!” He helped you to your feet and you both ran as fast as your feet could possibly carry you. You made it to a tree where you found Jake, and his presence calmed your thoughts and focused them - that was the effect he had on people, this great man and leader that you knew you would follow anywhere without question. 

He touched you arm and spoke to both of you. 

“Are you okay?” You and Neteyam nodded quickly.

“You ready? You ready?!” You saw him get out of cover and shoot, and you both sprinted for the hills, manoeuvring your way through thick shrubbery and tree roots, knowing that you wouldn’t have been able to do this even a few months ago, this level of athleticism and acrobatics that came naturally only to true Na’vi. 

You heard a big explosion behind you and you saw part of a big web of roots get destroyed as a result, and Spider falling a few meters beneath it. You and Neteyam were preparing to run back, but Jake stopped you, placing a firm hand in front of your bodies. You saw Neytiri picking Kiri up forcefully and running with her towards your direction, as the girl was looking back to where Spider was. 

Lo’ak and Tuk made it to your location as well, and you saw Jake kneel next to Tuk and hold her tightly in his arms as she cried, the weight of all you have all survived settling in all your bones. You hugged Neytiri like you never have before as you both cried, letting it all out, all the relief and fear and shock and happiness that you all made it out alive. 

“THANK YOU, GREAT MOTHER! THANK YOU!”

Lo’ak’s voice echoed through the forest. “Where’s Spider?” 

You looked at your sister, whose eyes looked like endless pools of sadness. “They took him! They took him!”

There were no words spoken as you all made your way back to camp. There were no words for what just happened. The adrenaline slowly depleted its resources in Neteyam’s body, leaving him in shambles, scrambling to figure out where to go from here. What were the next steps? Your back was flush against his chest, and the feeling of your skin on his, of your warmth emanating from your body, of your hand wrapped around his arm was the only thing that kept him from breaking down into a million pieces. You were here, his siblings were here. His thoughts flashed to Spider, and he knew he couldn’t think about it too much without tears welling in his eyes. He wasn’t close to Spider, definitely not nearly as close as the rest of his siblings, but he was family. Seze landed softly on the ground by the entrance to the camp. It was late, so most people were out for the night. You didn’t let go of him, not for one second, and he was so happy to see you again, so happy to feel you again, so sad it had to be under these circumstances. His family slowly made their way to the tent, but Neteyam felt you pull him back, urging him to let them go ahead without you. 

He saw you properly for the first time since the whole ordeal. You had mud all over you, but that was nothing compared to the blood covering your entire face and chest. Tears were falling down your cheeks and neck, and his hands immediately found your face, just as his lips found yours. It was soft in the beginning, tentative, like a flower blooming in the morning. But as you came to terms with everything that transpired, everything you went through, everything you could have lost, it shifted, it became desperate and needy, full of breathy moans and wandering hands. He almost lost you.. again. 

“Let’s go, please. I can’t be here.” Without any words, you got on Neyn and flew to your secret place. Neteyam’s hand was settled on your heart, that was thumping loudly, mirroring his own. You arrived quickly, the cave only a short distance away.

You ran, without looking at Neteyam and dove straight into the lake, not knowing for sure whether you wanted to reemerge, craving the numbness that came with drowning, craving it like the air that your was body was begging for. You felt the ripples in the water as Neteyam joined you, and when he touched you, your whole body lit ablaze, and the craving changed, as it always did when he was around. You missed him, so so much, and your fight and your need for space felt so silly now, so unnecessary in light of everything that you stood to lose at any moment. Any moment not spent in his presence, in his arms was wasted time, time you didn’t have. 

You came up for air, panting from your need for him settled deep within you, so that he could fill the gaping hole that just opened in your soul. He looked at your intensely, and you knew he felt the same, so you kissed him, pouring all your desires into it, feeling him do same to you. 

“I need you so badly, Atan. I have missed you so much.”

“Then take me, Neteyam. I’m yours.” 

You exited the water and lead him to the mossy grass outside of the cave, where the nature was shining brightly and the wind warmed your skin. You pushed him onto the ground, and straddled him, looking deep in his eyes as you took off your beaded top and unhooked his cummerbund from around his abdomen. He rose from where he was laying on the ground and started planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, making his way down. You moaned at the feeling, and threw your head back, giving him access to you, begging silently for him to never stop. HIs mouth found one of your breasts that he kissed, softly in the beginning before his tongue flickered over your nipple. You started grinding on him, cursing yourself for not removing both your loincloths before. His mouth moved to your other breast, whilst his hands went on to undo your loincloth, that he removed from you and threw to the side. He stopped to undo his own, and you thanked the great mother for whatever unspoken connection you two have always shared.

“I need to feel you, my love. All of you.” His hand went to his queue that he brought forth, and you were so grateful at the sight, aching for the union that will always bind you together, for life. 

You gasped loudly at the bond, overwhelmed with the outpouring of emotions emanating from Neteyam. So much pain, and fear and sadness, and so much love, and relief and gratitude all inundating your mind and soul, all making you breathless and dizzy. You both looked in each other’s eyes, both overcome with each other’s minds, both desperately in need of each other’s bodies. 

One of his hands resumed his slow torture on your breast while the other wrapped around your throat, until the asphyxiation lead to euphoria you felt deep between your legs, slick dripping all over Neteyam’s hard-on that you were grinding against. His hands let go and the rush of oxygen to your brain made you moan in pleasure, and increase the speed at which you were getting yourself off on his cock. His mouth was all over you, leaving marks that you knew would be seen by everyone in the village tomorrow, but you couldn’t care less. The whole world could burn around you at this point and you wouldn’t care, because there was nothing else. Nothing outside of this, of him, of this feeling. 

His hands went to your ass, pushing you deeper on him, urging you to go faster, helping you to your release. 

“Fuck, I love it when you fuck yourself on my cock.”

You moaned loudly at his words, feeling your orgasm building up in your core. “That’s right. Come for me, baby girl.” 

You threw your head back and rode out your orgasm with his hands on your ass still moving your now puffy and sensitive clit roughly on him. 

“You are so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

Dazed, you felt yourself being picked up and placed on the ground, your back loving the feel of the wet grass touching your skin. His face was inches from yours, and he lowered it to kiss you, and it was so unlike everything else around you, so tender and soft, so needy and gentle. 

“I love you so much. I am so happy you are here.” You cried out and brought him back onto you, kissing him like your life depended on it, which to be honest, you think it did. You felt his dick twitching against your inner thigh and moaned, desperate to feel him deep in your, desperate to be filled. 

“Fuck, please.”

He smiles into the kiss, and reached down to line his cock to your folds, teasing your entrance mercilessly. 

“Neteyam…” you mewled, not in the mood to be teased, not tonight. 

He didn’t need to be told twice, as he pushed in slowly, letting you adjust to his girth, that always took you by surprise, that always stretched you out deliciously. He moaned as he filled you fully, and stopped to enjoy the way you squeezed him, the way you took him in like you wouldn’t ever let him go, your pussy the only prison he wouldn’t mind being held prisoner in forever. 

“Fuck, Atan. You’re taking me so well, baby. Always so well, I could get lost in this pussy.” 

You were so wet your slick was dripping all over him and down his balls, making it so easy for him to move in an out of you, at a slow, agonising pace. Your hands made their way to his back, hard and muscular, and you dug your nails in it roughly, scratching him as he increased his pace, fucking into you roughly and ruthlessly, making of you a whimpering mess. Your legs wrapped around him to grant him better access, to bring him in deeper, always deeper, until he was hitting a spot you could feel in your whole body, inundating your every cell, your every sense. 

“I can feel you squeezing my dick, Atan. I want to hear you coming on my cock, I want to feel you taking my cum like a good girl.” 

Your orgasm hit you like a lightning strike, overcharging your every nerve ending until you were so drained you could only see white, and you felt Neteyam’s load fill you to the brim, overflowing around you. Blissfully spent, his head fell on the crook of your neck, and you stood like that, listening to each other’s heartbeats and shallow breaths.

You laughed quietly thinking this was probably the most tame sex of your life, and how even when you were trying to be tempered and soft, you ended up like this, moaning and mewling like your life depended on it. This is what he did to you, what he’ll always be able to coax out of you. 

“It’s good to hear you laugh again. So I take it you forgive me?” He rolled from on top of you, and pulled you on from the ground so you can be face to face, as he intently listened to every sound that came out of your mouth. Your queues were still attached, so you could feel the anxiety building in his system. You hoped your lack thereof would put his mind to ease a little. 

“Mm, I don’t know if I forgive you, but I have realised something. Actually, I realised two things. First, today, walking through the forest with the kids, I realised that you were right. There’s no other choice, but to follow them to the ends of the world and hope you can at least help them not fall off the edge. And if you have to fall instead, that’s fine as long as they are safe. So I think I owe you an apology. 

Secondly, I realised I can’t change who you are, and I don’t want to. I love you. I love how kind and patient and compassionate you are. I love that you love your family, your baby brother so much that his safety comes first in your mind. You love fully, and give everything to the people you love, and that is what makes you a great brother and a great son…a great mate. It’s what will make you the best Olo’eyktan this clan has ever seen… it’s what will make you the best dad. So I can’t change that about you. 

But what I can do is make sure I will always be around. I’ll always be next to you, and behind you and in front of you, and I’ll always have your back. So if anything like that ever happens again, I will protect you. And if I can’t protect you, I will heal you. I will stitch your wounds, and mend your broken bones, because putting pieces back together is what I do best, anyway. I won’t have to be scared anymore, cause I’ll just always be there for you. Deal?” 

“Deal.” He said as he kissed you tenderly, and you felt the salty taste of his tears on your lips. 

You made your way back a couple of hours later, and were shocked to discover the Sullys were still awake. You silently stepped towards the tent where Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk were hiding, listening in to their parents’ shouted conversation.Kiri motioned for you to come and brought her hand to her lips, urging you to be quiet. 

“This thing, this Quaritch, whatever he is, is going to walk right into here, right under Eywa’s nose.”

“I cannot, you cannot ask this. I cannot leave my people. I will not.”

“He’s hunting us, he’s targeting out family.”

“You cannot ask this!” Neytiri was furious, her screams loud and forlorn.“The children, everything they’ve ever known, the forest! THIS IS OUR HOME!”

“He had our children. He had them under his knife.” Jake’s voice was hoarse and pleading, hushed tones hiding the deep hopelessness echoed in his words. 

“My father gave me this bow as he lay dying, and he said ‘Protect the people’. You’re Toruk Makto!” 

“This will protect the people!”Jake’s voice was raised now, no longer poised, no longer holding back. “Quaritch has Spider, and that kid knows EVERYTHING! He knows our whole operation. He could bring them right in here.” 

You felt annoyed at how quick Jake was to assume Spider would betray this family, the only family he’s ever known. Spider was a loud mouth, and he was just as reckless as Lo’ak, but he had a good heart. A strong heart. He is loyal and loves the Sullys and this clan more than he loves his own life, and you thought Jake knew that. 

“If the people harbour us, they will die. Do you understand?”

“Look, I’ve got nothing. I’ve got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do. And I do know one thing. Wherever we go, this family is our fortress.”

So many thoughts engulfed your mind, so many emotions flooded your being, one more extreme and agonising than the next, but almost like a joke brought about by the universe, the only thing that rang supreme was the realisation the Tiongli was going to get to be Tsa’hik after all.

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky

[ghostfanwriter]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

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My Masterlist 🩷

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln. Bill, Frank and Joel are all the age they are when they're having lunch in ep03, don't ask me the timeline, just pretend they're still that young in 2023.

🧰 Synopsys: Bill and Joel have an unexpected encounter while outside Lincoln, and Joel sees you under Bill's gaze for the first time.

💖 Word count: 6.5k

🧰 Author's note: It's insane how long this series is taking me, but I'm really, really happy to know that some of you still love it. It means a lot and I love you all so much 🩷 🫶🏻

Joel wouldn't be honest if he said he was looking forward to this. Not only because Bill is a very closed man — they both were — but also because he felt like Bill somehow knew what he's done. Like he could hear Joel's thoughts and watch his memories.

And he couldn't stop thinking about you as they drove away from Lincoln. He couldn't not think about you, about how he kissed you, how he touched you, his growing feelings for you. The more he tried not to think about you, the more you took over him.

"You said you've let everything where you've found them, right? Are the stores near one another?" Bill breaks the deafening silence.

Joel almost sighs in relief. Any conversation would be better than thinking about you when he was certain that your dad could read his mind.

"Yeah." Joel cleans his throat. "The stores are near one another. I didn't wanna leave everything together and have someone come by and see it." He says and Bill looks at him. "You never know. A lot of the things I've found need electricity and fuel. If someone saw them they'd wait for whoever wanted them. Whoever could use them." He adds, and your dad nods.

"That's better, yeah." Bill agrees.

They go silent for a while, and Joel's tiredness allows him to not think about you as he looks out the window.

"Did you talk to Tess?" Bill asks and Joel breathes deeply, taking a while to respond.

Silence would be better.

"I did. She called on the radio the other day." He sighs, readjusting himself on his seat. "She doesn't think about leaving the QZ." He adds when Bill doesn't say anything else.

Bill grunts in response, confusing himself with how disappointed the news got him.

He never before thought about having other people in Lincoln, but as him and Frank age, he started worrying about leaving you all by yourself.

Especially because he knows how much happier you two got after Frank arrived, how miserable he would've been if he had never found you. He doesn't want you to experience loneliness.

"But she said she'd keep the deal if I wanted to stay." Joel says, and Bill frowns.

"And you'd stay without her?" He asks, confused.

"Unless you have a problem with that." Joel shrugs, his tone unreadable but not confrontational.

"Aren't you two a couple?" Your dad asks, confused.

Maybe that's the first truth Joel owes Bill.

"We aren't... Together anymore." Joel sighs, and Bill looks at him. "We haven't been for a few years now."

"I didn't know that." Bill says, his posture tensing as he thinks about how close you and Joel seemed the last few days.

It's not like they were trying to hide it. Tess told you when you met that she and Joel were just friends. But Bill's guard was so high that day that he forgot about the details about their relationship.

"We're just business partners now." He says.

"Do you think about staying without her?" Your dad insists, and Joel moves his neck, as if trying to crack it, to release some of the tension this conversation is bringing him.

"I'm thinking about it." Joel admits.

"Alright." Bill says, looking uncomfortable.

"Is the offer still up without Tess?" Joel insists, his tone still unreadable, but calm.

Bill shakes his head. "I don't know." He says, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "I thought you were with Tess, and... With my daughter at home..."

"I know." Joel agrees. He knows.

He knows the feeling of never trusting anyone enough to let them alone with his daughter.

And he feels like he broke Bill's trust, like he did the one thing he couldn't.

And he feels bad, he feels like curling into a ball, like telling Bill the truth so he punches him until he forgets what he's done with you. Because that's what he'd do to the man that dared to touch his Sarah.

After a few seconds your dad sighs. "I'm sorry but this changes everything. I thought you two would stay, stay with her after Frank and I—" he cuts himself when his voice starts cracking.

"No, it's okay. I get it." Joel says, and Bill looks at him.

"I'm not saying you can't stay. I just... I need to think about it first. Need to talk to her and Frank, see how they feel about it." Bill says honestly, his mind racing as he tries to follow Frank's request to be nicer to Joel.

"Sure." Joel nods, looking out the window and commiting to silence until they get to their destination.

...

No long after, they see the stores in the distance, the streets around them dirty, empty and quiet, a sense of uneasiness on the air, the certainty that danger hides in the shadows.

"We should continue by feet. At least if something happens we don't lose the truck." Joel suggests, and Bill nods, slowing the car, looking for a place to hide it.

They leave the truck and walk silently until the first store.

"I left this here." Joel says, touching a red wooden panel that's partially blocking the main door, a subtle mark perfectly aligned from the door to the panel. "To see if anyone would touch it." He adds, and Bill looks at him. "No one did." He finishes, and they walk in.

"What's in this one?" Bill asks, looking around, his rifle in hand, and Joel takes a note out of his back pocket, reading him the list he's made.

They take everything out of the stores, working together and fast so they can get out of there as quickly as possible.

When there's just one store left, Joel goes to it while Bill brings the truck closer to where they've placed everything.

...

Bill's struggling to place some heavy tools on the back of his truck when a gunshot near him makes him jump. He draws his gun and turns around, almost stepping on a dead stalker's body that's unexpectedly close to him and the truck.

He looks in the stores direction, his heart racing. He finds Joel holding his shotgun, a simultaneously worried and relieved expression in his face as his shoulders fall back down.

An infected, mere inches away from him. And he didn't notice it, he didn't even hear it. If Joel weren't there with him, looking at him... he could be dead right now. He would be dead right now.

It numbs him for a while. He leans on the truck, catching his breath and trying to calm himself.

Joel comes close and touches his shoulder firmly.

"Are you ok?" He asks, and your dad nods, his eyes wide and scared as he looks at Joel. "Did it touch you?" Joel asks, looking at Bill's arms.

"No." Your dad responds shaking his head, his voice weak. He clears his throat before continuing. "No, it didn't. You shot it before it got too close." He says nodding, his tone grateful.

"Yeah, but I almost didn't." Joel says in a warning tone. "I shot it as soon as I turned to look at you. Didn't you hear it coming close to you?" Joel asks, a clear worry in his eyes.

"Thank you." Your father says dryly, more like he's asking Joel to drop it than actually thanking him.

Joel nods, respecting Bill and giving him space, taking a step back and pulling the infected body away from the truck so they can keep packing up.

...

They finish what they had to do in silence, Bill always looking behind his shoulders and Joel always checking on him.

Seeing how startled ana scared Bill still was, Joel insisted on driving them back home, and so they did in silence, both with their heads full of worries, all of them related to you.

They arrive and park the truck in front of the garage, unloading the truck. Not a word spoken about what happened.

"Hey, boys!' Frank enthusiastically greets the two tired men, and Joel turns instantly, expecting to see you. But he turns back around as soon as he sees that Frank's by himself, offering him a small smile.

"Hey." They say together, and Frank tilts his head at how weird them both seem.

"Is everything alright? You've found everything, did something happen?" He asks, and Bill looks at Joel, who's focused on unloading the truck and not getting in between them.

If Bill doesn't say anything about what happened, he won't either.

"Yeah, alright." Bill dismisses Frank, putting on a smile to mask any tension. "We've brought your paint! We can start working on the houses, the boutique!" He says, and Frank finds his sudden enthusiasm in renovating the facades suspicious.

"Joel?" Frank calls, looking past Bill, and Joel closes his eyes, taking a subtle deep breath before turning around.

"Frank." He nods.

"What the fuck happened?" He asks. "I thought you two would arrive at least happy that you came back home safe, happy to have found everything you were looking for." He says, frustrated.

"We are." Joel says. "But it's not like going shopping. You see things you didn't wanna see, you're tense and worried all the time." He says, not giving space for further questioning, and Frank lowers his guard, looking almost embarrassed by his impatience.

"Ugh, you're right, I'm sorry. My head's full, I'm..." He looks at Joel and cuts himself, turning to Bill, touching his arm. " Sorry, love, why don't we go inside, we can unload the truck later." He tells Bill, who nods and turns to Joel, an appreciative look in his eyes.

"Leave it, Joel. Go get some rest, we'll do this later. I'm gonna take a shower, you should do the same." He says, and Joel follows them inside the house.

You've finished washing the underwear Joel's brought you. He told you to wash them thoroughly, and so you did, carefully washing each piece, looking at them, imagining what you'd look like with them on.

The thought of wearing such revealing pieces, of being so exposed to him — all while he'd probably still be fully clothed — makes you feel your insides warm up.

You run two fingers through your folds and moan at how wet you are. At how wet just thinking about him got you. You run circles around your clit, slow, light and controlled at first, then deeper and stronger as you get closer — just like he taught you.

But your arm gets tired before you get anywhere, and you moan in frustration.

So you remove the small shower head from it's hose and partially block the water flow, directing the pressured water to your clit, moaning with the sensation. And your mind goes right back to Joel.

His broad back, his warm chest, his rough hands running up and down your sides. The soft skin of his cock pressing against your clit, the praisings he whispered on your ears while he touched you.

How softly and gently he talked to you while making you cum, how good and overwhelming it feels to experience pleasure with someone else.

To experience pleasure with him.

You're holding back your moans as well as you can when you hear footsteps coming closer to your bathroom door, and you freeze, your heart slamming against your chest.

"Baby?" You hear Joel's soft voice calling, and your fingers instantly return their needy circles.

"Joel..." You moan in response, seeing his shadow under the door. He starts moving the doorknob, but suddenly rushes away from the door.

You imagine him walking in, the face he would've made when he saw you like this, how wet you are for him, how ready you are for him, how much you want him inside you, how he could just do it right there...

How tired he probably is, how much you just want to make him feel better and appreciated for everything he's doing for all of you, how you just want him inside your mouth...

You cum, his name choked on your throat as your legs stiffen, your walls convulsing desperately around nothing, and you do your best to not scream nor fall down on the slippery floor.

...

As he goes up stairs to his bedroom, he stops before your bedroom door. No sounds from your dads. He goes into your bedroom, following the steam coming from your bathroom. He stops right in front of the door, your low hums and moans making him close his eyes.

It brings him back to that other night, feeling you underneath his body, your skin so soft and warm, the citric and flowery smell of your neck, the way your hands are still learning how to behave, where to touch him, how to scratch his skin, how to run your fingers through his hair, how your tongue is still learning to explore his mouth, how goddamn curious and eager you are to learn how to share intimacy with him. How responsive you are to his touches.

"Baby?" He softly calls you, his brain painting the torturous and irresistible picture of what you're doing in there.

"Joel..." You moan back, and the sound makes him grunt under his breath, turning the doorknob.

But before he opens the door, he hears a squeak coming from the stairs, and rushes out of your bedroom, closing the door and quickly making his way down the hallway to his own bedroom.

"Joel?" Bill calls as soon as Joel reaches his bedroom door, his heart is beating so fast he's certain your dad can hear it.

"Hey." He responds, turning around and trying to hide his heavy breathing.

"What happened today... We're gonna keep it down. They don't need to know." Bill says. "Ever." He emphasizes.

"They won't hear it from me." Joel agrees, and Bill awkwardly stands there, like he's gathering the courage to speak.

"And I'm sorry I said you weren't invited to move in by yourself. You are. Not just because you saved me... but because I'm getting old. I didn't even hear the damn thing coming near me." He says in a hushed whisper, his voice getting caught in his throat. "They can't even dream that it happened. And I need someone to look after them when I can't anymore. Someone to look after her." He says firmly.

"I think you've taught her enough to handle herself." Joel reassures him.

"She's never been in real danger, Joel." Your dad chuckles. "She's a good hunter, a good shooter, she's good in body combat. She helped me take those raiders down, but she doesn't know how this world works." Bill sighs, letting his worries out for the first time.

"To be fair, no one knows." Joel shrugs, seeing the worry and protectiveness in Bill's eyes. "And she's not a child, Bill. You've taught her enough for her to look after herself." Joel insists, trying to ease some of your dad's distress.

"She's safe as long as she's in here, Joel." Bill sighs. "But I'd like to know that there's someone here with her. Someone I know can keep her safe. And after today... I know you can." He says, his heart swelling just to imagine you being all alone. "She looks like an adult but... She's just a child, Joel. She only knows me and Frank, life inside these fences..." Bill says, and Joel's heart sinks.

For the first time he's talking to your dad about you, and for the first time he's seeing you under Bill's light. He's seeing you as a secluded, inexperienced and naive twenty three year old girl who never had the chance to mature normally, who fell for the first unknown man she ever saw.

The realization sours his expression, it makes him not trust himself, not wanna stay, it makes him wish Bill got upstairs quicker and caught him in your bedroom. It makes him feel sick to remember the things he's done to you, how at the time it felt like intimacy and love, when in reality he should've taken things much... much slower with you.

When his mind goes to Sarah his eyes start to well up, and he's unable to respond to your dad, who silently watches his inner turmoil.

"I don't want you to feel like you owe me this, Joel. You don't. You could have just let me die back there and come back here with a tragic story to tell them. I'm the one in debt with you, but I'm willing to trust you to take care of things, if you choose to stay. I'll talk to her and Frank. You already have my yes." Your dad finishes, sinking Joel further into his misery.

"Thank you, I'll think about what you said." Joel manages to say, nodding and turning back to his bedroom. "Oh." His voice breaks when he turns back to your dad. "The guns are downstairs, on the dinner table." He says, not able to look Bill in the eyes.

"Oh yeah, sure, hum... thank you. But I was thinking you could keep them? At least until tomorrow." He says.

"Why?" Joel asks, his eyes meeting Bill's.

"Well, the last time I went hunting was before you arrived, and there's not a lot left for all of us. So I was thinking we could go hunting tomorrow morning." Bill invites him, the shyest smile appearing on his face. "I mean, I know you got an hell of an aim." He chuckles softly.

"Yeah, sure." Joel agrees, ready to help. "We'll go." He offers your dad a faint smile before going into his bedroom.

He goes to his bathroom, removing his clothes while he thinks about your dad's proposal.

This is what he wanted. To stay. To stay with you. He doesn't see it as a burden, no. He has Bill's green light to move in, to be part of your life. But he knows he only has it because your dad doesn't know about anything.

The fact that he invited him to move in just proves how oblivious Bill is to everything that's happened between you two. How well you kept it a secret, after all.

But he also knows that it only has to be a secret because he moved too fast. Because he couldn't battle his own desires, and now he can't tell your dad the truth without breaking his trust completely.

He turns on the shower, hoping the warm water will help clear his mind.

When you're done showering you hang your new lingerie around your bathroom and lock the door, knowing it's the only room in the house your dad doesn't have the key to.

You go downstairs to Frank's studio, where he's using the last few minutes of sunlight to work on the base for Sarah's painting.

"It looks amazing already." You smile, kissing the top of his head.

You sit outside his studio, taking the guitar, and you notice him looking at you with a smile.

You start playing the guitar, confidently touching the strings when you see Joel walking in, his hair slicked back, it's wetness shinning under the sunset light.

He sits besides you and starts laughing softly.

"What?" You laugh back. "Is it too horrible?"

"No — laughs — no, baby, it's not." He says, barely holding his smile, even after letting the nickname slip. "It's just a bit... out of tune." He says softly, choking back his laughter.

"Oh, THANK GOD!" Frank playfully yells.

"Dad!" You yell back, laughing, feeling your cheeks burn.

"Oh, my dove, I'm so sorry, but it was a tough afternoon." He says laughing, and Joel looks back at you, his eyes scrunching with his smile.

"Can I?" Joel asks softly, asking for the guitar.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Or my dad might throw himself into the fence or a trap." You playfully pretend to be sad.

"Uh! I never said that out loud!" Frank gasps, defending himself, sounding overly offended, and you shoot him a playfully angry look.

You hand Joel the guitar, and he starts adjusting the things at the top of it while you curiously watch it over his shoulder.

"This is where you tune it." He says, quickly taking his eyes off the instrument and looking back at you, your faces accidentally almost touching.

"And how do I know it's good enough?" You ask, pulling back a bit.

"When it's not sounding like that anymore." Frank says, his voice cut by his own laughter.

"DAaAD!" You yell again, laughing, feeling your cheeks in fire.

"Frank leave her alone!" Bill says when he passes by, sounding like a dad scolding his child for messing with their sibling.

"You don't even know what's going on!" Frank protests.

"Well, I know you're bothering her." Bill says, giving you a gentle kiss at the top of your head before leaving, his smile clear in his voice.

"I'm sorry, love, I'll stop." Frank tells you, getting up and coming to kiss the top of your head too before following Bill. "I always knew she was your favorite." He playfully tells Bill.

"You'll get the hang of it with time." Joel says, gaining back your attention after your parents disappear. "But also... It won't sound as bad as it did just now." He laughs, and you playfully kick his leg.

"Stop it." You laugh, looking at the small book he got you, searching for the part about getting the guitar ready.

He finishes adjusting it and starts playing a slow and mellow melody, and you recognize it as the one of the songs you played on the piano the first night he's spent with you.

"You already knew it?" You ask, looking at him with a smile.

"It keeps playing in my mind. Everytime I think about that night." He whispers with an even softer smile, and you shy away from his eyes. "Did we ever... Cross a line, you think?" He asks softly, his gaze falling, and you look back at him, frowning.

"Why?" You ask, confused.

"Do you think?" He insists, his tone serious.

"No. We only did what we both wanted to do. No lines to be crossed." You reassure him confidently.

"You promise you'll say if we ever do?" He asks, his eyes reddening.

"I promise." You respond with an empathetic smile. "But I know you won't ever make me feel bad." You whisper tenderly next to his ear, touching your cheek to his shoulder.

"Thank you." He smiles at you, pressing his head tenderly against yours. "I wanna show you a song." He says, changing the chords he's playing on the guitar.

An even mellower and softer melody occupies the room, his fingers skillfully working through the chords. He closes his eyes and you see a tear falling down his cheek.

You gently wipe it away. "What's so special about this one?" You whisper softly.

"I used to play it for Sarah." He says, his eyes still closed. "She loved it... She was almost learning it when..." He stops himself, his voice breaking, and you caress his back.

"It's ok." You whisper. "It's ok if you want to cry about it, I'm here with you." You say softly, and he looks at you, his eyes wet and a faint but honest smile in his lips.

He continues playing the melody, and you quietly start humming it. "She also liked to hum along with it... She said it helped her memorize the chords." He says, looking down at you, his smile slightly wider.

You stop humming instantly, your eyes wide. "I'm sorry... I... I didn't know." You say, feeling bad for invading their memory.

"No, it's fine. She'd love to sing along to it with you." He says, his voice lower and deeper, emotion dripping from it.

You smile. "Thank you, I know we'd have a lot of fun together. The three of us." You say, your eyes locked on his, and they water even more at your words.

"We would." He smiles softly. "She'd love you." He says, his voice shaking with the thought of having you and Sarah by his side. Of experiencing all those loves at the same time, the paternal love he has for her and the romantic, passionate love he feels for you.

You take your camera, standing in front of him and taking a picture of him playing the guitar.

"Stop that." He chuckles.

"But you look so good playing it." You playfully defend yourself, looking at the photo and smiling.

"You know, there's one thing your dad never got you, and it shows." He says, and you tilt your head. "Glasses." He laughs.

"Oh, yeah, so I could see your beauty even better." You smile, sitting back by his side, scooting closer to him and turning the camera to the two of you. "C'mon, say cheese." You smile widely, taking the picture.

Your face softens when you see the photo: You're with your wide and typical smile, and Joel's looking adoringly down at you, his eyes scrunched and a silly smile on his lips.

You look up at him, hoping he can see in your eyes all of the things you're still not sure you can tell him. Hoping he can read and understand all the feelings you're still learning how to feel, all the new and overwhelming sensations he's bringing into your life.

And he hopes you can see the little beam of light your presence brings to him. How you're the only one that got close to making him feel happy again.

The only one that makes him believe that he can genuinely feel happy and fulfilled again.

...

Not long after he followed Bill, Frank calls the two of you to have dinner, and you sit across from each other at the table.

You all eat while talking about all the renovations you're gonna do on the facades, on your house. It feels good to see your dads excited again, to see the smile on Joel's face.

And you think to yourself that this is what life should feel like. This is what it will feel like, after you and Joel talk to your dad and he lets Joel stay.

This.

The happy and satisfied smiles of your parents, Joel's feet caressing yours under the table. Soon Joel shamelessly displaying his affection to you.

You're meant to feel all these loves, from your parents and your lover. And hopefully you're on the right way to have them.

After dinner you say goodnight to your parents and discreetly call Joel to your bedroom.

"Baby?" He calls you a few minutes later, after locking the door, confused by not seeing you in your bed. You open your bathroom door, wearing a lingerie set he got you and a thin, silky robe that hugs your body perfectly.

"Hi, Joel." You smile, walking towards him, feeling confident and womanly in the outfit, especially with the way his eyes are roaming around your figure, his chest raising and falling heavily.

But when you reach him he looks at your face and his eyebrows glue together.

"Baby... Take this off." He says, his voice low and husky. And you undo the robe's tie, but he holds your hand. "No, baby... Get changed. In the bathroom. Put your pajamas on." He says, kissing your forehead and going to sit on your bed.

"Ok." You agree, confused, going to your bathroom and putting your pajamas on. A set with a t-shirt and pants.

You get changed and come back to bed, sitting by his side. "You didn't like it?" You ask, feeling insecure after his reaction.

"No! No, baby, it's not that, I... I loved it, you looked beautiful." He smiles weakly at you. And you notice a glint in his eyes that's only ever there when you talk about Sarah.

"Are you alright?" You whisper, scooting closer to him, your hand going to his lower back.

He nods.

"Have you tried any of the clothes I brought you?" He changes the subject, turning a little so he's almost facing you and tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear.

"Not yet. They're still wet." You say, gently brushing away some food crumbs from his shirt, making his heart soften a bit because of how tender and small the gesture is.

This is what he loves about you. Your small and caring gestures that remind him that you're there, that you care for him. Like how you always softly pinch his arm or his side whenever you walk past him.

Reminding him he has you now.

"Did you like the new clothes?" He smiles, cupping your face, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"Uhum. I loved them." You smile sweetly, leaning into his hand and closing your eyes and just feeling his touch for a few seconds. "Joel?" You whisper, your eyes still closed.

"Hmm?" He responds gently, his soft gaze locked on your face.

"Can we lay down a bit?" You ask, feeling your cheeks warm up under his touch, and you find a silly smile on his lips when you open your eyes.

"Alright." He agrees softly. "Just for a bit. I gotta wake up early tomorrow." He says before kicking his boots away and laying on your bed. You crawl on top of him, laying on his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

You two just lay together for a few minutes, allowing your breathings to sync and enjoying each other's warmth, all of your hands busy tenderly caressing each other's skin.

You love this. You love having someone to hold, someone to hold you. You used to always snuggle with your dads, but eventually you'd all go to bed and you'd stay alone, somehow never feeling warm even with layers and layers of blankets suffocating you. You love having Joel like this.

And Joel loves it too. To have someone to silently share this much with, to feel this comfortable and this vulnerable with. Someone to look after, to protect, to make him feel like he's not just waiting for time to pass, but that he has a reason to continue. A reason to leave the QZ, a reason to try again and do things right, to talk to your dad the next morning, explain to him that he has feelings for you, but that he wants him to know it all before moving forward, before accepting to move in. Before touching you again.

A reason to try and make it work, even though his chances are almost nonexistent.

"What are you gonna do tomorrow morning?" You curiously ask.

"Huh?" He asks, furrowing his brows.

"You said you can't stay for too long because you gotta wake up early." You explain, playing mindlessly with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Oh, yeah. Your dad called me to go hunting tomorrow morning." He says, a small smile on his lips.

"Really?" You ask. Your dad takes hunting very seriously, and he'd never take someone he doesn't trust with him.

"Uhum." He says. "At first light."

"How can you always wake up in time? I can never do it, he always has to wake me up when we go hunting." You say, and he pulls your hair away from the side of your face, gently caressing it and your scalp.

"You get used to it eventually. And I never sleep well anyway, so I'm always just half asleep. The sun comes in and it wakes me up." He explains.

"Well, but you used to always be late." You almost giggle and he looks down at you, frowning. "You got a watch for your birthday." You explain, smiling, and he looks at it.

"Yeah." He chuckles. "I actually already had it, Sarah just fixed it for me." He smiles. "I was always home later than I said I'd be." He says, his smile souring. "I... I'd never spend enough time with her, I'd always leave the house early with her, when she went to school, and come back much later than her." He says.

"But you were working, weren't you?" You ask, confused by his guilty tone.

"I was." He says. "But... It's ok, I don't wanna talk about it." He smiles softly.

"Are you sure? It feels like you never talk about her." You say gently, trying not to push his boundaries.

"Talking ain't gonna bring her back, baby. It's just gonna remind me of everything I did wrong to her." He says, a hint of bitterness and shame in his voice.

"Don't you wanna talk about all the good things you did to her?" You suggest, noticing how much he has bottled up about his life before the outbreak. About how much he seems to focus on what he did wrong, what he lost.

"The only good things I did for her was love her like I've never loved anyone before and provide for her." He says. "And not even the providing part I did right."

"What do you mean?" You ask, looking up at him, your stomach touching his as you gently caress his hair, your chin resting on his chest.

"She asked me for two things on my birthday. Three actually. Pancakes for breakfast, and I forgot to buy the pancake mix. A cake, and I forgot to buy it. And for me to come home early, and work kept me busy until late." He says, his eyes focused on the roof. "Those were the three last things she ever asked me for, and I didn't do any of them." You see his eyes glisten.

"But you didn't do any of them on purpose. And you didn't know it was your last day with her." You comfort him. "And if you think about it... You were protecting her in a way." You say, and he looks down at you, puzzled. "The fungus got spread through flour and sugar, didn't it? The pancake mix and the cake could've been contaminated." You say, and he frowns, looking back up.

Then he chuckles, his eyes welling up.

"I've never looked at it that way." He says, and you smile, believing that he's happy with the new perspective. "I was better at protecting her by accident than when I actually needed to." He says, a single tear falling from his eye.

"Why?" You whisper, your smile melting, and he frowns, all the thoughts, guilt and shame he's felt all day bubbling up along with the all the feelings he carries from Sarah's death.

"I... I couldn't move, I... I shouldn't have..." He starts, tears starting to flow down his cheeks, his chest moving frantically with his crying, his body shaking, his eyes wide and fixated on a single spot on the ceiling. "I told him... I... But she wasn't infected." He stutters between heavy breaths.

You get off him, lying sideways by his side and pulling his head to your chest, hugging him.

"Hey... Let's take it slow... Don't do this to yourself." You say softly, trying to soothe him, running your hands through his hair and caressing his back.

He snuggles close to you, his head pressed against your chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you, like he's found the comfort he so desperately needed.

You stay silent until his breathing steadies, shushing and tenderly keeping him tightly into your arms.

"She..." He starts after a few minutes. "She hurt her ankle when we were running away from an infected. I... I told the guard she was hurt, but not infected. She wasn't infected." He says, drenching your pajamas shirt, and your own eyes start watering. "I shouldn't have said she was hurt... I... The way I was holding her, I was almost using her a shield." He says, his voice barely intelligible as his grip on you tightens almost painfully.

"But you weren't doing it on purpose, Joel. You'd never do that." You reassure him, seeing the guilt and shame he feels from it.

"I was better at getting her killed than at killing myself." He cries, and you caress his hair, noticing the scar on his forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Joel." You really are. It hurts to imagine how much he's suffered. The scar you're caressing in his forehead proof of just how much.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me, angel." He says, almost bitterly, and you brush it off, knowing this is a complex topic for him.

"Joel... — deep breath — I don't understand all the feelings I feel for you yet. A lot of them are still so new to me." You say. "But I feel so much for you. And I am sorry for you. You didn't deserve to go through any of this." You say, gently but firmly, making it clear to him that you're not gonna let him push you away.

And there goes his walls again.

The walls he built so fast and spent so long fortifying, the walls you somehow crumble so easily, so effortlessly. He still doesn't understand it; how you can do it every time, how easily you can make him open up to you.

How he, that's so used to provide and protect everyone, also has the need to feel protected, to feel safe in someone's arms. In your arms.

"She was lucky to have you." You reassure him softly, caressing his hair, looking into his vulnerable and big brown eyes.

"No, she wasn't." He says, looking away from you, burying his face on your chest shamefully.

"She was." You insist.

"I couldn't even protect her... How could she be lucky?" He almost snarls, his tone new to you, making you flinch, his eyes cold and blank all over again.

Breath, take it slow, it's not personal. He's just not used to talk about this.

"She had you, and now I have you too, and I'm lucky to have you." You say, trying to keep your tone soft and gentle.

"You're not lucky to have me, baby." He says, his crying becoming more heartfelt, more intense.

"Of course I am, Joel... You make me feel special, and good. In a way I've never felt before. My dads love me, but they're supposed to. Not you. You decided to love me. You didn't have to." You smile down at him, tenderly wiping his tears away while a few of your own stream down your cheeks.

"No, baby, no." He says, shaking his head. "You're... I should never have done any of the things I did to you." He cries, his tone shameful and apologetic.

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying not to get hurt by the regret in his words.

"Baby you're... You're a kid... I shouldn't have even looked at you the way I did." He says. "You're younger than Sarah would be today—" His crying cuts his words.

"No, Joel, no.... don't do this to me, please." You cry, for the first time being affected by his words. "You're the first person I've ever met that treated me like an adult. I don't want you to talk to me like I'm a child." You say, begging him to see you as a woman, not as a sheltered and defenseless girl.

"I should have taken it slow... I shouldn't have lied to your parents, I... I can't even look at Bill. I feel like I've crossed the one line I couldn't." He says.

"Joel, if it depended on my dad I'd never do anything. I wouldn't even leave this house! He gets worried when I go to the crops by myself, and I never leave these fences." You say. "You never did anything I didn't want you to do." You reassure him.

"But what if you don't know what you want, baby?" He asks, hugging you tighter. "What if you only see me the way you do because I was the first man to walk through those gates?" He asks you, letting his fears and guilt take over.

"Joel, you make me happy... You make me happy in a way I haven't felt in a long time." I cry. "My life was just do my chores, cook and... And nothing else. You make me want to do more, you make me want to take care of you, to get out of my bed. You're good for me." You say. "I've never felt this way." You say, honesty coating your words.

"And you make me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again, baby. You make me feel like I'm not just waiting for my time to come... Like I have a purpose again. I wanna keep you happy, safe, taken care of." He smiles, squeezing you even tighter. "I wanna go out and look for the things you want, I wanna hunt so I know you're well fed, I wanna hold you at night so I know you've slept well..." He says, his eyes once again soft and warm, a vulnerability you've never seen in them before.

"I want you to stay here, Joel. With me." You whisper, tears flowing down your cheeks.

"You know I can't sleep here, baby." He smiles gently.

"No... I don't mean just right now. I mean... Stay here with me." You say. "I know it's selfish, but I want you to stay." You cry.

"Baby..." He says, unsure if he should tell you about the conversation he had with your dad.

"I know... I know. Just stay here right now, for a little bit more." You not wanting to think about the day he has to go back to the QZ.

He smiles, wrapping his arms even tighter around you.

"Of course, baby. I'll stay for a bit." He says, snuggling against your chest, and you caress his hair, soothing him.

"Thank you for letting me in." You whisper.

"You gave me no choice." He smiles. "You made it impossible to not wanna let you in, baby." He whispers back.

"I'm sorry, then." You giggle, still running your fingers through his hair.

"Thank you for being so... You." He smiles, his gaze going from your eyes to your lips, and you kiss his lips lightly, moaning when he licks them, deepening the kiss.

He chuckles and pulls back, his thumb caressing your back.

"We're gonna do this right this time." He says firmly yet gently. "I'm gonna talk to your dad. We're gonna go on a hunt early tomorrow, and I'm gonna talk to him."

"You are?" You ask, a mix of excitement and apprehension in your voice and eyes.

"I will. At least if he kills me I'm gonna be far from here and you won't see it." He chuckles, and you laugh.

"Oh, God, don't even joke with that." You laugh, a genuine concern behind your smile as you hug him tighter.

"We're gonna do it right." He reaffirms. "We're not gonna do anything else until your dad knows about us." He says. "But you gotta promise me you're gonna keep what already happened between us a secret." He says, looking deep into your eyes.

"I promise." You smile. "It's gonna be like nothing happened."

"My good girl." He smiles, kissing your neck, his right hand squeezing your hip teasingly.

"Hmmm... Joel..." You moan at his words and his touch. "Don't make this harder than it has to be." You say, your hips instinctively rolling against him.

"Alright." He agrees, his hand going back to your upper back, pressing you against him. "I mean it. We're gonna go slow, make this special to you." He smiles.

"You already make everything special." You smile, pulling his hair back and touching your lips to his forehead, gently caressing his scalp with your whole hand and your fingers.

You two lay into each other's embrace. Uncertainty and concern battling with excitement and hope for what's to come, for how your dad's gonna react, for what life's gonna be like with each other.

And under each other's warmth you both fall asleep. Your best sleep in long time. Joel's most peaceful night since... ever.

A comfortable slumber that's interrupted only by Joel's heavy breathing underneath you and a warm sunlight coating your bedroom.

A shadow suddenly blocks the sunlight, and you sleepily open your eyes, seeing what... Or who... Is blocking it.

Fuck.

I'm so sorry for this, besties. The next chapter is the last official one for this series, the bomb is ticking.

Please don't forget to tell me your thoughts, the second most fun after writing is reading what y'all have to say about it.

Ily, have the best day 🩷🩷🫶🏻

[buckysgrace]

Nothing Matters

A little part two to Mittens :) Happy Birthday to my love @sadhours

Steve Harrington x Fem!Oc, Former Billy Hargrove x fem!oc

CW: Unprotected sex, mentions of vomiting/sickness

Kim

Steve was clingy, but not in a bad way. She liked it, or maybe that’s just what she needed. She didn’t think about her previous relationship as much anymore, refused to let it cloud her mind when she knew she deserved to be happy. Just like he was.

And Steve was more than just a distraction. She really did like him, cared for him a lot. He was funny and goofy and really sweet. Every time she spoke about something it was clear to her that he was clinging to every word, like he was forcing himself to take notes in his mind. She wasn’t used to someone being so expressive, so outwardly adoring towards her. 

And he was vocal too, constantly talking about how much he missed her and wanted to see more of her. He picked her up in the mornings for school, then dropped her off in the afternoons. It had taken Max about two seconds on the first day of him getting them for her to understand what was going on. She had scoffed and rolled her eyes, mumbled something about it being gross but had done nothing but tease Kim since that time. She really enjoyed bringing up her former crush in front of Steve, making Kim that much more embarrassed.

She had been spending most weekends with him, lying and saying that she was with Robin so Susan wouldn’t be suspicious. Susan had yet to hear about Steve, mainly because Kim didn’t want her to make a big deal about it. Which she always did, so it was better to keep her in the dark for right now. 

However, it had been almost a week since she had last seen him. She had fallen ill Monday morning, barely reaching the stop sign that she met him at before she fell into a patch of bushes and hurled up whatever had been in her stomach. It had been like that for days now, the mornings worse than the nights. But she hadn’t had a fever in a few days, which was a good sign. Even though she still felt miserable.

“Do you need anything?” Susan asked as she peeked her head into the room, keeping her distance from Kim. She couldn’t afford to get sick, not with as much as she was working. She was getting ready to leave now, probably the waitressing gig that she had just gotten. She made quite a bit in tips. 

“I’m okay, mom,” she hummed as she snuggled deeper into the little nest she had made, “thank you.” She told her honestly, glad that she hadn’t been forced to go to school, either. Max had been bringing her assignments home, which was nice. 

But it had been a long week. She supposed she had latched herself to Steve the same way he had clung himself to her. She still called him every day, well, they called multiple times a day. Even when he was supposed to be working, but it was better than not seeing him at all. She supposed she was a little worried as well, fearing that he might disappear similarly as someone else had.

She spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep before she would drag herself to the kitchen, starving but afraid to eat anything. Most days she settled on some oatmeal, hoping that it was the safest bet. 

She curled back into bed after, eyes heavy as she stretched her limbs out above her head. Her joints ached, head no longer throbbing like it had been the previous days. 

“It’s cute, I like it.” Her body felt as if she had been drenched in cold water as she sat up, fumbling to close the top button of her nightgown as she turned her attention towards her doorway.

Steve was resting there, hands on his hips as he looked around. Her headboard covered part of the doorway, making the door impossible to close. His eyes were warm with interest as he memorized her side of the room, making her gape. 

“Steve,” she gaped, eyes widening as she looked at him, “what are you doing here?” She asked in horror, suddenly wishing that she could erase her messy room from his memory. Max’s things were strung about, and her side was covered with homework and a stack of blankets and stuffed cows that had been rolled off of her bed. 

She was even more mortified that he had seen her neighborhood, the trailer park that she was deeply embarrassed about when she was around him. She did not want to know what he thought of their tiny home when he lived in such a grand one. She didn’t know why she cared about how he looked at her, but she did. 

“I missed you,” he shrugged his shoulders, a gleeful smile on his lips, “I brought you some soup.” He added as he moved a little closer, but she quickly shook her head. She was sure that she looked a mess. 

“I’m sick,” she whined, pulling her sheets up to her face so he couldn’t see her, “I don’t want to get you sick.” She protested, meaning it too. 

“I don’t care,” he replied with a laugh, making her shake her head. She wasn’t going to get him sick or have him see her when she was such a mess, “I wanted to see you.” He hummed as he gave her a little push, scooting her further towards the edge of the bed. 

She was too tired to protest too much as he shifted in next to her, making her groan as he pulled the sheets off of her head. She pouted as he began to shift her loose strands back into their rightful spot. She felt her cheeks burning, heart hammering at the soft look her gave her. 

He had asked her out the morning after the Christmas party, officially, his hair a mess and eyes all blurry and red. She had suspected the flowers that he had given her had been from his mother’s bushes, but they were still pretty. Dirt and all. And it felt nice to be wanted again. 

“You look beautiful.” He told her sincerely, his fingertips brushing softly across her cheek before he wiggled himself closer onto her pillows. She shook her head, not used to the way he told her that all the time. 

“Stop,” she mumbled underneath her breath, face burning as if she had a fever, “I look terrible.”  She huffed, suddenly glad that she had forced herself to shower this morning. At least she would smell good. 

“You could never look terrible,” he smiled as he kissed her nose, “you feeling better?” He hummed as he wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer in his direction. He was warm and soft. His lips tender as he continued to press soft kisses along her skin. She protested when he tried to kiss her lips at first, but then faltered at the feeling of his mouth against hers. She craved him. 

“A bit,” she mumbled, “my stomach doesn’t feel as bad today, but I’m still cold.” She told him honestly, hoping that the worst of it was over. She was tired of being sick, completely over it in fact. 

“I better stay then,” he said as he nodded his head seriously, making her grin, “you know, I’ve got to keep you warm.” She buried herself deeper against him, liking the way their legs linked together. 

“Hm,” She smiled as she pretended to think about it, giggling at the feeling of his lips against the crook of her neck, “I guess so, the blankets haven’t been working.” She told him, unable to resist the urge of how he pressed himself against her. 

“See,” he laughed as he kissed her forehead, “I had a feeling I should come over today.” He told her proudly, his nose sliding against her skin as he laid back down with her. 

“I guess you were right.” She told him seriously as she slid her fingertips underneath his shirt, enjoying the feeling of his flesh against her own. She liked the way his moles decorated his body, how they were everywhere. She wondered if she could count all of them. 

“I missed you,” he continued on as he traced his fingers across her sides, “it’s boring without you at work.” He whined playfully, dropping his head next to hers fully. 

“What about Robin?” She asked him seriously, knowing that she wouldn’t appreciate being shoved to the side. Though she did think that Robin enjoyed not having to drag him along everywhere as much. 

“She’s just mean to me.” He pouted softly, his lips curling into a frown against her forehead. She was certain that he had already caught whatever she had been sick with. 

“Poor baby,” she teased as she ran her fingers through his hair, earning a little sigh from him, “are you off today?” She asked, hoping that the answer was yes. It would be hard to push him away now. 

“I am,” he told her as he held her tightly, “I thought about calling again yesterday.” His eyes twinkled with different colors as the sunlight sprang across his face. She breathed in the image, enjoying how beautiful he looked. 

“No,” she replied quickly, “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She added seriously, knowing that she wasn’t worth him losing his job. He snickered as he pulled away. 

“Keith is very scary.” He responded as he wrinkled his eyebrows together, giving his head a little shake. She shrugged her shoulders softly. 

“I think so too.” She grinned as she pulled his hand forward, pressing her lips softly against his fingertips. She liked feeling him so close to her. 

“Is he weird to you?” Steve asked suddenly, pulling away with a look of worry in his eyes. She grinned, giving her head a little shake. 

“I’m teasing you.” She told him seriously as she rubbed her palms across his chest, enjoying the way he laughed a second later. She liked the sound, enjoyed him much more than she liked to admit.

She felt a rush of lust rushing through her, suddenly overbearing as she felt herself sitting up slowly. He wrinkled his eyebrows as she began to crawl over him, straddling his legs. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a little laugh, eyes widening as she rubbed her hands across his chest once again. He shifted underneath her, giving his head a little shake.

“Nothin’.” She told him gently, as calmly as possible, to keep him from growing too suspicious. But that didn’t work. Not at all as he slowly flipped her onto her back. She huffed as her head hit the pillows, his legs resting between hers. 

“Uh huh,” he shook his head, chuckling softly, “I don’t think so.” He wagged his finger playfully at her, making her grumble while he pretended to scold her. Her being sick had nothing to do with him not wanting her on top. 

She had learned that he didn’t like it; mostly because of the one and only time he’d let her, she had barely crawled on top of him before he had buried himself deep inside of her and busted with the whiniest sound that she had ever heard. He wouldn’t let her try anymore, too embarrassed for some reason. 

“You’re no fun.” She whined as she spread her legs out, biting her lip as her gown slowly slid over her legs. He watched with interest, eyes gleaming as he looked at the panties she was wearing. 

“You play dirty.” He shook his head as he pushed the gown up further over her legs. She felt goosebumps spreading across her skin, making a grin form on her lips.

“No I don’t.” She giggled while she protested, trying to pretend like she didn’t do certain things to drive him crazy. But he was easy to impress, even easier to get him wound up. And sex with him was new, different, but in a very good way.

“I thought you didn’t feel good?” He cocked his head to the side, fingers stalling as he looped them around her panties. She breathed in deeply, trying to control the way her heart was thumping roughly inside of her chest. 

“You look really handsome,” she purred as she rolled her hips up against him, “and I just missed you so much.” She breathed out, feeling hot and desperate. She needed him now.

“I think you’re full of it.” He shook his head, his lips pressed together in a little smile as he slid her panties down her long legs. She chewed on her bottom lip, enjoying the way he held the material delicately between his fingers. 

“Need to be full of you.” She breathed out seriously, cheeks flushing at the way he snapped his head back towards her. She enjoyed the way his shoulders fell roughly, like the air was leaving his lungs. 

“Jesus,” he gulped, brown eyes widening, “Your mouth.” His eyes flickered across her features, making her giggle underneath her breath. She pressed her foot against his side, giving him a little nudge. 

“I know a way to get me to hush.” She teased as she sat up a little better, pushing her gown up over her back. She struggled on her own for a second before he reached forward, gently tugging it off of her body. 

“You’re a mess.” He hummed as he dragged his lips against the corners of hers, giving her two swift kisses while he moved his fingertips down the curve of her body. She exhaled harshly, blinking her eyelids slowly as she leaned up towards him.

Her nose brushed against his, slow and steady as she tilted her head up towards his lips. He tasted sweet, as usual. Something that she craved as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She held onto him, pulling him closer as their lips crashed against one another. 

He moved his hands across her cheeks, rubbing at her skin as he deepened the kiss. She sighed against his mouth, savoring the feeling of their skin against one another. Her lips felt hot, burning as she pushed herself closer to him.

He groaned as he pulled away, gently kissing her chin before he moved down the curve of her neck. He tilted her head from side to side, dragging his tongue against the area of her skin that he continually nipped at. She was sure she’d be covered in marks, but she didn’t mind. She’d wear them proudly.

She gripped a handful of his shirt, tugging it over his head and earning a little squeak from him. He laughed as he pulled free, pushing his hair out of his face as he met her eyes again. She smiled this time as she dragged her nails across his spine, enjoying his hairy chest and the moles that decorated his body. 

He hummed as he continued his trail down her body, stopping to knead at her perky boobs. She hissed at the contact, eyes widening at how sensitive she suddenly felt. Her clit burned as he wrapped his lips around one of her nipples, sucking softly as she continued to grind her hips up against him.

The feeling was gone too soon, her nipples hardening in the cool air as his saliva dried to her skin. He kissed along her belly button, licking softly before he squeezed at her hips. She shook her head, pressing her thighs together as she realized what he was doing. 

“Haven’t had you in a week, honey,” he groaned as he spread her legs further, brown eyes dark with want, “Let me make you feel better.” He pleaded with her, soft lips dragging against her inner thighs. 

“You can,” she whispered softly, whimpering at the feeling of his tongue pressing against her slick cunt. She felt her eyes roll into the back of her head, her hips arching off of the bed, “Wanna feel you.” She whined, knowing that she was slowly losing the fight. 

“Mhm,” he hummed from in between her legs, the tip of his tongue delicately tracing her swollen clit. It took everything in her to keep from lacing her fingers into his hair and grinding against his face. She wanted to feel him. Badly, “just a minute.” He smirked as he looked at her, eyes gleaming cockily. 

She let herself savor that long, long minute. Gasps left her tongue, moans filling the room as he wrapped his pink lips around her sensitive bud. He sucked on it softly, tongue pressing designs into her as she leaked against his face. 

He moved further down to deliver broad licks across her cunt, licking away her wetness as his fingers dug into her thighs. She rocked her hips across his face, whimpering and crooning as the pleasure burned deep inside of her. 

“Can’t, can’t,” she whined as she tugged on his hair this time, earning a moan from him as she pulled him up towards her. She dragged her palms across his hairy chest, body pulsing at the way his lips shone with her slick, “Steve, I need you. Right now.” She told him, afraid that she might combust if she didn’t get him inside of her. 

He tugged at his pants, meeting her hands as she tried to pull them down as fast as possible. Her eyes lingered against the trail of hair that dipped underneath his briefs, her lips curling into a little smirk as his cock sprang free. 

She felt greedy as she wrapped her fingers around his girth, slowly pumping him in her hand. She savored the way his dick curved, how long and heavy he was. She bit her bottom lip as she spread her legs further, rolling her hips up to press his tip against her folds.

“Fuck,” he cursed underneath his breath, cheeks flushing as he gripped the back of his dick. He rocked his hips forward, tip grazing against her slick hole. She whined at the contact, rolling her hips to feel him again, “Slow down.” He teased playfully, lips pressing into a smirk.

She nearly pushed him onto his back, determined to crawl on top of him and get the job done herself. He pressed down on her hip gently, eyes fluttering softly as he slid his tip against her soaked hole. She bit her bottom lip, heart hammering as he slowly dragged himself inside of her. 

It had taken some time to get used to the long length of his cock, usually leaving her sore the day after. But she had slowly adjusted, grown a carnal desire to have him buried deep inside of her. 

Her eyes rolled back at the feeling of him pressed deep inside of her, all thoughts fleeting as her cunt clamped down around his girth. She crooned at the feeling of him curving against her deepest crevices, pressing against where no one else had.

“Stevie,” she whined as she dragged her hands over his shoulders, clinging to him, “need you to move.” she whispered underneath her breath, toes curling at the way he rested against her. He grunted, forehead falling against hers. 

He wiggled himself closer to her, earning a gasp from her lips as she felt her walls stretching along his thick girth. A grin fell onto her lips, pleasure burning inside of her chest as he brushed his nose against the side of her face. 

“Mhm,” he hummed as he held onto her, arm slinking underneath her shoulders as he slowly dragged his cock in and out of her soaked walls. He pressed his lips against her neck once again, kissing the tender spots as she rocked herself against his thrusts, “You feel so good honey, so wet around my cock.” He praised gently, his words tickling against her skin.

“Oh,” she whined as she felt her nails digging into his flesh, tugging him closer as his cock slid in and out of her tight cunt. She moved her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together as he groaned against her skin, “right there.” she sighed as the tip of his cock hit against her bundle of nerves, sending electricity through her body.

Moans poured from her tongue as his thrusts became deeper, faster as he crooned against the side of her neck. Her cunt clamped down around him, squeezing him harshly as the sound of their bodies meeting filled the room. Her clit ached at the feeling, desperately wanting to feel more of him.

She linked her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as she dragged her mouth hotly against his. She swallowed the taste of his moans, letting his sounds of pleasure vibrate across her skin. 

She slid her tongue into his mouth, licking away at his spit as he desperately rammed his cock inside of her. Pleasure burned in her veins as she nipped and licked at his swollen lips this time, savoring the taste of him. 

“Steve, fuck,” she sang his name, heart hammering to the rhythm of his as his fingertips dug into her shoulder. He groaned louder, cock throbbing as his chest fell flat against her own. She savored the feeling of their bodies meshing together, skin sliding against his, “you’re so big. Can feel you so deep.” She mewled, clit aching in awe. 

Steve grunted roughly from the side of her neck, his breathing sporadic as he buried his cock deeper inside of her. Her eyes rolled back with each long thrust, her mind filling with pleasure and awe as he gripped her tighter. 

“Fuck,” he whined, eyebrows furrowing together as he raised his head up in her direction. She moved her fingers along his jaw, gripping him in place as their eyes met. She felt a spark burning inside of her, traveling along her spine as he began to rut his hips deep inside of her, “feel so fuckin’ good. You feel so good.” he pressed his lips tightly together, gasping as her cunt squeezed along his girth once again. 

She clung to him as he continued to drag his cock in and out of her slick pussy, his fingers falling to her sensitive clit. He rubbed at her clit harshly, making her legs kick out and thighs burn in awe. Her head fell back against the pillows, eyebrows furrowing tightly together.

“Oh God!” she squeaked out, seeing stars as her orgasm crashed over her. Her moans filled the room, overpowering his as she shook underneath him. Her body was slick against his, his cock stretching her walls, “Right there! Oh fuck!” She whined, hips moving mindlessly as she cashed her high.

His forehead fell against hers as he grunted loudly, fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust roughly into her. His skin was smacking against hers, his body pressing her deeper into the mattress. She didn’t care if she sunk into it, only that she got to feel him against her.

“God, Kim,” he groaned as he laced his fingers with hers, squeezing roughly as he snapped his hips forward gently. Little moans crawled off of his tongue, tickling against her skin as his body came to a stall, “Fuck!” He cursed as he buried himself inside of her once again, cock throbbing as he reached his orgasm.

She felt hazy, whimpering at the feeling of his cum painting her walls. She rolled her hips forward lazily, earning a little whine from his lips. His eyes fell upon her features once again, full of awe and foggy with want. She laughed breathlessly, listening to the way he panted in bliss.

He brushed his fingers through her red locks, tilting his head softly as he examined her. She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to hide her grin away. Her pulse was flipping against the crook of her neck as he kept up with his motions, a tender gaze on his features as they settled into silence for a moment. 

“I love you,” he whispered, features softening as he dragged his fingers across her cheek, “so much.” He told her gently, making her heart halt in her chest. She blinked, unable to think or breathe as his words settled over her.

He was in love with her. Steve Harrington. She blinked again. 

It took a moment for her thoughts to connect with her tongue, just long enough for a fleeting look of worry to cross over his eyes. She snapped out of it a second later, finding the courage to speak.

“I love you too,” she breathed out truthfully, heart hammering roughly inside of her chest this time, “I do. A lot.” She was being honest, she was sure that she was. Maybe it was a little quick, but she could see herself being happy with Steve. She really did.

He dropped his head, kissing her gently as her lips curled into a smile. It was tender and soft, making butterflies flutter in her stomach. He chuckled a second later, pulling away as  his brown eyes glittered in joy. 

“What do we do now?” He asked softly as he sat up just a bit, enough to pull himself out. She hissed at the contact, biting her bottom lip as she felt the mixture of their cum leaking out of her hole.

He moved towards the side of the bed, grabbing a few tissues, before he began to clean her up. She bit her lip at the feeling, cheeks flushed at how intimate it was. She paused for a second, thinking about what she did want to do. 

“Honestly,” she paused for a moment as she thought, “I’m starving. Is that soup in the fridge?” She rolled over to face him, meeting the awestruck expression on his features. It made the muscles in her stomach tighten, still not used to the way he watched her. 

“It is,” he smiled, “I can warm it up for you.” He suggested as he pulled himself up, searching for his discarded clothes. She watched him, biting down on her bottom lip as she grazed over his body. 

“I’ll get it,” she told him gently, “do you want anything? I’m not sure what there is.” She admitted, knowing that she hadn’t been able to go grocery shopping this year. She scooted towards the edge of the bed, reaching for her nightgown. 

“Let’s go look.” He smiled as he held a hand out, tilting his head as he waited. She shifted onto her feet, holding onto his hands tightly as she got her balance once again. 

She moved around her headboard to walk out into the hallway, figuring there was no point in hiding the mess anymore. He had been out here already for God knows how long before he came back to her room. She supposed that messy was better than gross, although Susan’s new smoking habit had left the living room more stinky.

“Did you make this?”

“Sort of,” he paused for a moment as he thought about his answer, “I tried my grandma's recipe, but that didn’t really work and my mom is gone,” he explained quickly, nodding his head as he glanced at her, “so I asked Claudia.” 

“Dustin’s mom?” She questioned him, making her giggle a little bit at the way he nodded his head in agreement. 

“She’s not too bad,” he said with a little laugh, “at least she helped me with this.” He jerked his chin towards the bowl before he brushed a hand through his hair, shifting from foot to foot. 

“It smells good.” She told him seriously as she popped the lid open. There was nothing uncommon in it, but she doubted that would matter. She was starving. 

“I tried really hard.” He teased as he moved his hands to his waist, stepping out of the way so she could pop it into the microwave. She wasn’t sure if she could wait for it to heat up on the stove top. 

“Do you want a bowl?” She asked as she grabbed him one anyway, feeling like he could enjoy what he made as well. Besides, he always seemed to have an appetite after they had sex. 

“No, no you eat that.” He replied as he shook his head quickly, looking dismissive. She waved him off, only for him to grab her hand in return. He grinned as he kissed all of her knuckles, then her fingertips. She giggled a bit, but she wouldn’t budge. 

“We can share,” she declared, not wanting to eat in front of him while he had nothing, “I’ll be fine. I bet I’ll be better by tomorrow.” She stated in determination, knowing this was the first morning she actually had an appetite.

“You’re sure?” He looked worried, unsure if she was telling the truth. She nodded her head at him, leaning forward to give his soft cheek a little kiss. He worried too much.

“There’s a good chance that you’ll be sick anyway,” she teased as she waited for the soup to warm up, “Then I’ll take care of you.” She managed sweetly, watching the way he gave his head a little shake.

“Sounds promising.” He spoke over the loud beeping of the microwave, turning in his seat to watch as she carefully pulled it out. It was bubbling at the top, but she’d rather have it too hot than cold in the middle.

She served it into two bowls, filling his up a bit more. He ate twice as much as she did, which she was used to. And she still didn’t have much of an appetite either. Well, so she thought.

It didn’t taste any different from chicken soup that they bought at the store, but she gobbled it up regardless. She felt like she was starving, which, in some way she probably was. She just hoped that it would stay down this time.

Steve’s eyebrows were cocked in surprised as she faced him again, half a noodle hanging from the corner of her lips before she sucked it in. Her face burned a bit, realizing that she was probably eating like a pig. His lips grew into a smile, like he was amused by it all. 

“I’ve missed food,” She apologized as she wiped her mouth clean with a paper towel, “Sorry.” She said bashfully, cheeks reddening as she dropped her spoon into her bowl. She was still hungry but she decided it would be best to pace herself this time around. 

“I would miss food too,” he smiled as he gave his head a little shake, looking unbothered, “it’s kind of hot.” He told her, making her eyebrows raise in surprise. She giggled this time as she shook her head, figuring that he would say something like that. 

“You’re funny, Steve Harrington.” She replied with a shake of her head, deeming it was safe enough to scoop back into her soup. She sipped on it at the same time he did, earning a little laugh from both of them. 

They settled comfortably as Steve caught her up on the gossip from work, mostly over how he still couldn’t believe Keith had a girlfriend. It made her laugh a bit over how he remained so in disbelief over it. 

“Who’s that?” He asked as loud knocking came from the front door, loud and unstopping. She furrowed her eyebrows together, checking the time. There was no way Max was back from school or that Susan would have returned. 

“No idea,” she hummed truthfully as she sat up, growing irritated by the continuing banging from outside, “let me go check.” She stood before he could get back up, grinning in triumph at the way he pouted. She prayed it wasn’t the landlord this time, as they had been ensuring that their rent was on time.

“I’m coming!” She shouted as frustration clipped at her bones. She pulled open the screen door, letting it rest against her back before she tugged the front door open. Her body froze, fingers freezing against the doorknob as she took in who was in front of her. 

Fuck.

“Hey,” Billy said as he dug his feet into the boards of their steps. His hair was longer, curling against his shoulders, just slightly messy like he had let it grow out too much. His tan was nice and even, but there was a slight redness to his cheeks. His eyes were just as bright, but there was something hidden away, “Is this a bad time?” He asked, making her wish that the floor would swallow her.

Something told her this wouldn’t end well. 

[nightlyrequiem]

Again and Again and Again

Cross posted from AO3

Valeria wants you back, but you're in need of convincing. It's a good thing she just so happens to be there in time to save you when you're attacked in an alley.

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Harassment, Unhealthy Relationship, WLW, No smut

There are flowers on your doorstep. Delicate, velvety petals beam up at you like you are the sun. It's a bouquet; lilies, peonies, starflowers, and a rose. All tied up together in an innocent white ribbon. The soft, vibrant flowers look out of place against the weathered wood of your door. There's no note attached but you don't need one to know who sent them. You've been seeing Valeria on and off for five years, and every time you two split she makes a habit of trying to buy back your affection. With how often (and violently) you two fight, you'd think you'd learn that you aren't compatible.

But the heart wants what it wants and no matter how many times you leave her your heart continues to sing for hers. You pick up the bouquet and go inside. Shutting and locking the door behind you. You set them on a side table littered with other gifts. Wilted flowers. Small dark velvet boxes holding rings and necklaces. Gift bags containing clothes you had eyed while still with her. She'd buy you the world but the one thing she'll never give you is an apology.

You toss your work bag to the ground nearby and plop yourself down on your old, second-hand couch. You think it was originally white, but now it's a more of a light beige. It's stained in some places and on the right a spring has come loose and stabbed up through the fabric. It's not the best couch but beggars can't be choosers. You glance at the top corner. Seemingly overnight a spiderweb appeared. You make a mental note to get rid of it later. You fold your legs up beneath you and take out your phone. Valeria had sent you a message five hours ago. Something along the lines of asking you to come home. She sent another one almost two months ago threatening to kill you if you continued to ignore her.

You do a routine check of all your socials. Not paying much mind to the threat or the plea. You've been doing this for a long time, and you know she's mostly full of shit. It's uncomfortably hot. Sweat builds up under your arms and on the back of your knees. The weather is truly atrocious. You'd think that it would be mandatory for all buildings to be built with an AC in Mexico, but you were wrong. Honestly, not having one in this weather feels cruel and inhumane. Maybe that's why this place is so cheap. It makes you miss the cool air inside the villa you shared with Valeria. You miss the big soft bed. You miss a lot of things.

Doomscrolling on your phone no longer brings you any entertainment. You turn on the tv for background noise as you rise off of the couch and head into the kitchen. You don't exactly feel hungry, but you know if you don't eat you'll feel awful tomorrow, so you dig through your freezer for packaged hotdogs. You used to cook good, elaborate meals for Valeria. You let slip a small smile at the memories of trying new food with her. You just don't have the motivation anymore. You thought leaving meant you'd be better but so far all you are, is depressed.

You let them boil as you walk back into the living room. The show playing is one you don't care for, but you don't bother changing the channel. You peek out your window. There's a man standing across the street. He's not looking directly at your building, but you know he's watching. Valeria can't stand to leave you to your own devices. Every time you've moved out she's sent someone to watch you. It doesn't fail to piss you off. You turn away and go back to your hotdogs.

You have a hard time chasing sleep. You're in a mood and it's hot and the wet rag you're using to try and keep cool has already dried but left a wet patch on your bed. Unfortunately for you, it doesn't matter how sleep deprived or miserable you are. You still have work. It's not any less hot out as you walk to work the next day. Despite the sky being overcast. It's like the sun is still determined to share it's heat with the world even when it can't be seen. The only thing you have to look forward to is the air conditioning at work. You walk inside and treasure the little relief you get from the cold air.

You put on the stupid red vest that signifies to everyone that you're a worker. You walk across the smooth linoleum floors with a box of product that needs stocking. You ignore the few customers that walk by, and they ignore you in turn. You don't work when you're with Valeria. There's just no need to and she doesn't like it when you do. You used to think it was romantic but now you think it has more to do with her liking to have more control over you. It's a little harder to leave when your source of income is her. Still, you're stubborn and something as small as money isn't going to stop you from doing what you want.

Your arm is halfway raised with a can of soup when someone taps your shoulder. Your skin crawls at the contact. You wish people would realise that they don't need to touch you to get your attention. You place the can on the shelf and turn with your go-to customer service smile. It's the man from last night. You get a good look at him up close. He has a faded tattoo on his cheek and growing stubble.

"Where do you keep the produce?" He asks. He has the rough voice of a longtime smoker. He already knows where the produce is. It's practically right next to the entrance.

"It's right by the front of the store, sir." You say politely. He nods then proceeds to stare at you for a second too long before finally walking off.

You go back to stacking shelves and roll your eyes. You've almost emptied the box when the man returns with a container of strawberries and blueberries. You look at him and wait for him to speak but all he does is stare at you.

"... Can I help you, sir?" You ask.

"Yeah, I just wanted your opinion on which one is better." He replies. Shoving the berries at you rudely. Your brows twitch with annoyance.

"They're both good." You say passively. Why does he need to bother you? Is it not enough to send someone to stalk your every move?

"Okay." He walks away abruptly.

Throughout your shift the man periodically comes up to you with stupid questions. Making himself out to be a real pest. He finally leaves and you're allowed to finish the rest of your shift in peace. You take grab your things from your locker and leave. You pause before you step outside. You see fine slivers of rain hitting the dark pavement outside. Just your luck. You get to be sopping wet in the least fun way when you get home. You walk outside and feel it soak into your hair and clothes. You walk down the cracked roads surrounded by dull brick buildings. Stray dogs peer out at you from under porches. Their beady eyes following every move.

A small pack of children kick an almost deflated soccer ball through puddles. You pass by a laundry line. Whoever hung up the clothes forgot to bring them in. You're cold and tired by the time you finally reach your home. There's no gift waiting for you this time. You unlock the door and step inside, happy to be out of the rain. You set down your keys and walk towards your room to change and almost scream when you see a figure in the kitchen. You whip your head to the side. There is indeed a person sitting at your table. Her dark brown eyes meet yours as she sits calmly.

Your brows furrow.

"How did you get in here?" You ask sharply.

"It's raining pretty hard." Valeria remarks. Ignoring your question. "We don't get to see that very often, I like it." You raise your arms in an irritated gesture.

'Valeria."

"It's peaceful, remember that storm that happened last year?" She continues. Staring at you. You aren't sure what to do.

"You need to leave." You say firmly. Attempting to take control of the situation.

"The power went out, and we spent the night on the floor in the living room just watching through the window." There were candles and blankets. "It was such a romantic night."

She doesn't seem to recall the awful fight that happened right after. Valeria looks around your kitchen. It's a small space. The wooden cupboards are chipping, and the microwave doesn't work. You feel a small flash of embarrassment. As if your home doesn't live up to her high standards.

"We should do that again." She says. Resting her chin in her palm. Her hair has grown down to her shoulders since you last saw her. She's dressed casually. A tank top and jeans. A gold chain glimmers at you from around her neck, a subtle display of her wealth. "You never answered my texts."

"Because I don't want to talk to you. How did you get in here?" You ask again.

"I picked the lock." You frown. Of course she picked the lock.

"You aren't welcome here." You say firmly. Mentally preparing yourself for a fight. Valeria stands up, her mature features settle into a calm, almost relaxed expression.

You tense. Wondering if she's going to get physical.

"Alright." She murmurs. She leisurely walks around the old table and past you. Confused, you turn and follow her. She walks straight towards the front door. She pulls it open and steps outside into the rain, apparently unbothered by it. She turns to look at you. She doesn't speak but her face says it all. This isn't over. You quickly close the door and lock it. For a few minutes you just stare at the wood. Seeing her again after months is throwing you off. Although she had been sending you gifts for the last few weeks you haven't spoken with her. She had acted so calm though. No snide remarks, she didn't raise her voice. She even left without an issue.

You walk back into the kitchen and stare at the spot she was sitting in moments before. The kitchen light casts an unflattering glow on everything it touches. It makes the walls look yellow and does nothing good for your complexion. Valeria looked out of place. Maybe she changed. She's different. You chastise yourself for thinking this way as you shut off the light. You throw yourself down on your couch. Careful to avoid that out of place spring. The rain continues. Tapping against the roof and windows loudly.

__________________________________

You're temporally stunned by pain after your head makes contact with the peeling concrete of a wall. You fall to your knees, clutching the side of your face. Your heart thumps with fear as you peer up at your attacker. It's a man you don't recognize. He smells awful. Wearing unwashed baggy clothes. His teeth are ragged and there are visible sores on his face. He pulls out a knife that looks like a breeding ground for tetanus. You've always imagined what it would be like to be attacked. You'd fight back enough to flee. You'd scream loud enough to draw attention. But even though this is happening on a semi-public street, you can't do anything but tremble like a deer.

He growls something unintelligible. You shakily root around your pockets and throw your wallet at him. Hoping he goes away and leaves you mostly unharmed. Your sudden movement only seems to anger the man, however. He kicks the wallet to the side and prowls closer. Before he can reach you, his scrawny body jerks to the side after someone punches him. Valeria places herself between you and him. A few rough looking men step up from behind him. The man looks at her with wide eyes, but you don't see any fear.

"Get the fuck out of my way!" He says aggressively. Awkwardly getting to his feet. "Get out of here!" The way he says this sounds odd to your ears. Valeria subtly nods at the men behind him and they grab him. The larger one holds him by the arms while the smaller one delivers vicious blows to his stomach.

Your head throbs and the violence makes you feel unwell. Your attacker shouts and squirms. His voice high and wheezy. What are you doing? What are you doing? This isn't what you're supposed to do! Valeria turns and crouches before. You don't realise you're still clutching your head until she gently pries your hands away. She grabs your face, tilting your head to asses the damage. Her expression is serious, her dark brows furrowed.

"Are you okay?" She asks. "Do you feel dizzy?" You don't. Now that the shock is wearing off, you realise he didn't slam you head into the wall all that hard. You're definitely in pain but it could be worse, you think. You shake your head.

Valeria gently grabs your biceps.

"Can you stand?" With her help you slowly get to your feet. The two men who apprehended your attacker drag off his now unconscious body into a nearby alley. "What happened?" When you don't respond she says your name and asks again. "What happened?"

"He... I thought he was mugging me, but he didn't take my wallet." You say breathlessly. you look at your hands. They're still shaking. You've gotten into [physical spats with Valeria before but you've never felt worried for your life. You just... froze. Valeria can see the turmoil on your face and pulls you close to her warm body. Holding you against her with her hands softly petting the back of your head.

"I'm here." She murmurs. "I'm here, you're safe." Her scent is familiar and comforting. You don't question why he's here or why that man didn't just immediately stab you.

Valeria walks you back to your home.

"Take the day off." She says. Looking at you sympathetically. You return her look blankly.

"I can't." Your boss is an asshole and unless you have a doctor's note he won't let you off the hook.

"You can. I'll take care of it." Valeria replies. Giving your shoulder a squeeze. "Go inside and rest, I'll come check up on you later." She waits for you to go inside before walking off. You watch from your window.

True to her word, Valeria comes back after a few hours. You willingly let her in to talk. She did save you after all. It's the least you could do to thank her. You sit back on the couch with your knees curled to your chest. She sits down next to you.

"Are you okay?" She asks. You nod. No serious injuries. Just the memory to make you more paranoid to walk to work for the next while. Valeria places a hand on your knee. The nail polish decorating her nails in beginning to chip. "Good." The silence that follows is a little awkward. You aren't really sure what to say.

"... Thank you." You murmur. Valeria retracts her hand and looks at you intensly.

"You know I'll always be there for you, right?" She asks quietly. That makes you think.

"What were you doing down there?" You ask. You're lucky she was there but what was she doing there in the first place?

"I was coming to visit you." She says smoothly. Not needing to think about her answer.

If she was coming to see you, she chose the longer route. You don't question it.

"Oh." You rub your forehead.

"I miss you." She says. Her voice is low and vulnerable. You look at her. Throat tightening. Instead of replying you look away from her. Uncomfortable by the eye contact.

"I can keep you safe." She speaks again. "You don't belong here, you know that." She doesn't sound demanding or smug. You know her tone means nothing though. You've had this conversation before.

She grabs your hand.

"Don't you miss me too?" She whispers. You can never be too sure if her vulnerability is honest or not, but it gets under your skin anyway.

"I do miss you." You admit. Not looking at her. You miss sharing a bed, and meals, her laugh. You even miss her temper. You look back up to the corner, right at the cobweb. Getting rid of it must have slipped your mind.

"Then come home." She pleads. Moving closer to you. A small spider slowly crawls out from a crack in-between the wall and ceiling. You can't tell if the spider is venomous. You squeeze Valeria's hand. Maybe you should give her another chance. If she messes up again, you can always leave.

"Okay." You resign quietly. The fly lands in the web and gets tangled in the silk. Attracted by the struggling, the spider darts out to sink its tiny fangs into the fly's helpless body. Valeria smiles.

"I knew you'd see reason."

[archivalofsins]

All the times that Yuno has hinted at wanting the audience to give her a 50/50 or say nothing omitting other notes I have on prisoners appearance or general attitude after trial one,

"About forgiving or not forgiving people, I don't think you'll be able to choose."

People tend to project their best case scenario on others. Stating that they believe they will do x or be incapable of doing x. I.E "You wouldn't hurt me." - "You won't do that." This is usually to allude to their desires while playing on the other persons morality and character. Though it can backfire if the other party takes it as a challenge or as the person speaking saying they are inept or inadequate which Es does-

I won't let something like that pass. Are you saying that you doubt my capability to do so?

"Ah, no that's not it. It's different to what you're thinking, prison guard." "You know those people who just want to convince themselves? So, they intrude on other people's affairs even though it's not their place- I despise them."

"They only do that to make themselves feel better. Don't they? Those people don't actually end up doing anything."

"No matter how many chilling memories I had to go through... Those people never gave me any warmth."

Umbilical

"Am I a bad girl? Please don’t answer."

(-273.15°C)

"This chaotic situation you've wrought with that job of yours- Is it fun?" What are you trying to say? "Are you personally satisfied? I mean, having forgiven and not forgiven. The prison is like this now." You mean the conflicts between the prisoners? "Yep! Kotoko-san, who you forgave, went super violent and then injured people came rolling in one after the other." Later "Ah... I don't have much interest in things like ethics and morals. Doesn't your stomach not inflate?" That sounds like quite a dangerous ideology. "No, but seriously, I really do think so... That there are lots of people who think, "I have to protect ethics and morals" then end up constrained and miserable. They should just live in a more easygoing manner."

"It's not like I want to win the discussion. I'm just saying what I think."

Using the direct translation here, "Doesn't your stomach not inflate?" to highlight this is once again Yuno asking Es isn't it not satisfying doesn't this not fill you up and leave you wanting for something. One could say it doesn't give that full tingly floating on air satisfied feeling. Are morals and ethics really enough of a metric to get to satisfying conclusions is a answer necessary for a satisfying conclusion?

Though Yuno does state she would have been find with not being forgiven or found guilty,

"Even if I was scorned by you, I would have been okay with being told I wasn't forgiven. I don't believe I'm not in the wrong. I'd accept it." ... "Despite that, you arbitrarily assumed things about me and sympathized with me. Even though all I did was make a rational decision of my own free will." I'm sorry, but that's the sort of thing Milgram is.

Then, I hate Milgram.

This is a side note but I find it interesting that Yuno consistently takes attention away from the abortion point she brought up. More so focusing on her work to the point that Es is like I'm not here to judge that.

I believe it depends on the degree. "Yes, yes. Of course, I think criminal offenses fundamentally aren't good." ... "But immoral acts that don't cause anyone misfortune do exist, right? Just like sugar-daddying. Because it's been deemed ethically wrong I was hiding it but... Is someone being troubled by it? It's a win-win engagement isn't it?" - The wanted wanting the wanter. The overlap, isn’t that some sort of perfection? ... It's as I said before, I have no intent to pursue the rights and wrongs of your acts outside of murder. However, the reality is that that is connected to your murder.

Please stop bringing up things that have nothing to do with your crime but it does have to do with your crime. Yuno, literally alluding to the fact that her work was in fact hurting people just to see it go over Es' head again. Then this topic just sort of fades.

They go into talking about something else.

Es just kind of doesn't combat her statement at all when she says it's not hurting anyone. Despite that just being historically untrue about the profession she's in. Mostly because people tend to cheat on their spouses with people in Yuno's line of work all the time. Something that does negatively impact the spouse, destroy families, and also if not done safely cause considerable health risks to clients and workers alike.

What do you mean it doesn't hurt anyone?

She specifies in trial one just how much this can hurt not only the client but the worker themselves. It mostly hurts the workers since they're held to a higher moral standard than the people usually seeking them out and paying them (while at times cheating on their spouses in the process).

She discusses the harm it can cause in her first trial interrogation,

"For example news outlets. They always make a big deal out of adultery, inappropriate comments, immodesty, and so on- Right? And then they start criticizing the people who make an appearance there. Don't you think it's ridiculous?"

So, she isn't ignorant to it.

To the contrary she seems to know the harm it causes when it comes to public opinion quite well. She even states that's why she didn't disclose the fact that she did that. So, why is she pretending like it's harmless here when again in her previous voice drama the first instance of news outlets stoking controversies was in regards to adultery. Something that people can and have for a long time committed with people in Yuno's profession.

Is it a win-win situation when one party has to take more responsibility than the other if what they are doing is found out and it's never really the person with the spouse, money, or affluence getting the short end of the stick but the person with the job?

No.

Yet, Yuno points out that she doesn't have to worry about those things. She did what she did because she wanted to not because she had to in any way shape or form.

"I'm not pitiable. My family gets along super well. And I'm not particularly struggling for money. I decided, of my own free will, to do it because I felt that it was necessary for me."

So, this is as she says in Tear Drop,

"The overlap, isn’t that some sort of perfection?"

Tear Drop

"Don’t weigh me measure me against your morality." "Just shut it, will you? You know it all."

"I can’t smile well anymore. It’s because of you."

“Let’s reload the warmth.”/“Let’s just do it, please smile?”

In closing,

Yuno in Milgram constantly, "That sort of treatment won't leave me satisfied."

The audience,

"Surely if we continue to vote her innocent she'll realize that she has nothing to feel bad about that her feelings are in fact unfounded. If we just keep using radical acceptance she'll realize she can let her guard down and be happy eventually." It yells and clamors so loudly it misses the part where she said she'd be able to accept a guilty verdict more than an innocent one.

Along with the myriad of times she stated that this sort of superficial sympathy given in order to make oneself feel good because one found a reason someone was worthy enough for it in their eyes does nothing for her and that the sort of people who behave that way are the one's she hates the most.

Probably has nothing to do with that I hate Milgram statement at all. She's probably super pleased now because she's accepted the publics opinion of her into her heart and was finally won over by kindness. Yippee everyone was so nice and everything was solved~ Isn't that fantastic?

"Can you not forgive without some extreme reason? Then, alternatively, if there was some extreme reason, could you forgive?"

The reality is that such sides of the issue exist.

Even though the act itself is the same?/ ……don’t tell me, did this murder seem smaller to you than the murders of the other prisoners? Thought-provoking!

[nyaagolor]

A genuinely shocking amnt of people said they wanted to see my “Apollo backstory but it’s exclusively based on AA4” so huzzah! Self-indulgence on main! It’s under the readmore because I don’t wanna clog anyone’s dash :)

Everything starts with Thalassa because of course it does. She’s part of the Granmarye Troupe but kinda Hates It. Her father gives her very little autonomy, and she feels like they’re treating her more as an asset or employee than family. She's good at putting on a brave face but she has very little autonomy there and is completely miserable, so she sneaks out to meet with the audience sometimes to get a taste of freedom. It’s on one of these little trips that she meets Jove, who she quickly falls in love with. They continue to meet in secret, and Thalassa’s resentment for the troupe only grows. The day she turns 18, she runs away to go elope with him, not leaving a note or any indication of where she’s gone

The two of them are happily married for a year and have a child, but Jove dies in an accident (unrelated to Kuhrain in this version) only a year into their marriage. Thalassa, now a 19 year old single mom with no money and no documents, realizes the only person who can help her now is the last person she wants to see. Desperate, she calls Magnifi, who agrees to help her IF she gives up the kid and comes back to the troupe. He thinks if she still has an attachment to the child she’ll try and run away again as soon as she can (and he’s right!). Thalassa gives Apollo to the orphanage with one of her bracelets and secretly tries to keep track of him— she does plan on coming back for him as soon as she can, Magnifi be damned

Magnifi, knowing that both Zak and Valant are in love with his daughter, actively encourages the both of them to pursue her, hoping one of them will get her to fall in love and give her a reason not to leave the troupe. Zak is the one who ends up succeeding. They have Trucy together and things immediately take a turn for the worse

Thalassa immediately gets very depressed after having Trucy and nothing seems to cheer her up. She can’t stop thinking about being forced to give up her first child and the life she lost and nothing Zak does seems to help. Eventually, Magnifi steps in and says that she needs to get over it and get back to performing. To everyone’s surprise, Thalassa agrees without protest

This is when the “accident” happens. Air quotes here because surprise! It was not an accident at all. Thalassa was tired, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to go scorched earth on the entirety of Troupe Granmarye, so she loaded the gun improperly on purpose in hopes that the aftermath and scandal will bring the troupe down with her. She somehow survives, but only Magnifi knows. Not wanting news of it to escape and seeing an opportunity to hold this over Zak and Valant’s heads, he ships his amnesiac daughter off to Borgnia and tries to wipe his hands of the whole thing

While clearing through Thalassa’s things, Magnifi finds all of the information on Apollo and Jove, which he shows to Zak. Zak, who didn’t know about Apollo, feels wildly hurt by it all. He ends up projecting a lot of his feelings onto Trucy— he still loves her but becomes more distant because he’s grieving Thalassa’s death and “betrayal”

This is how Zak knows about Apollo and why he tells Phoenix about it. Phoenix does try to find Apollo as soon as he learns about him, HOWEVER, Apollo is trans and all of Thalassa’s documents have his deadname on them so they can’t be used to track him down. (By the time Phoenix realizes Apollo is the kid he’s been looking for ((via the bracelet)) he’s already broken Apollo’s trust enough that he doesn’t feel like he can safely drop that truth bomb without scaring him away. By the time Apollo DOES come to trust Phoenix, Thalassa has her memories back, at which point Phoenix feels it’s her truth to tell). Anyway.

Trucy’s story is effectively identical to canon so I don’t have much to say about that

While in the orphanage, Apollo decides he wants to be a lawyer bc he hears about Phoenix (specifically the whole thing about sticking up for people with no one on their side). He goes thru the lawyer track in HS bc that’s a canon thing in AA apparently and tests into a special fast track law program so he can save as much money on tuition as possible

Apollo works his ass off, he has a ton of jobs and works indexing night shifts for the courthouse. Everyone starts to know who he is bc he works every law related job he can no matter how miserable. This is how Kristoph finds out about him

He works all thru law school but basically all of his money goes to tuition so he goes between shitty apartments and crashing at the courthouse / work when he runs out of rent money. This is the OTHER reason everyone knows who he is and how kristoph finds out about him— he’s always loitering around the courthouse. He makes a name for himself as a hard worker, being fast + thorough with paperwork, and having an excellent eye for detail

During internship hunting season, Kristoph approaches Apollo— he greatly values a dedicated hard worker like Apollo and thinks Apollo’s abysmal financials are good leverage for manipulation. I hc that Kristoph specializes in fraud cases, so Apollo’s talents are extremely relevant to Kristoph’s interests. Kristoph’s firm is only himself because of all the illegal shit he does (less eyes less chance of being caught) so he gambles on taking in Apollo. He ends up personally fixing up Apollo’s credit score, ensuring he has proper documents, and gets him set up with a decent paycheck so he can start to develop a savings account. Apollo decides he would die for him

This continues until Kristoph plays a bad hand— he intends on having Apollo defend Phoenix in the hopes that he’ll lose so he can hang the resulting verdict over Apollo’s head to manipulate him. Turnabout Trump happens and Apollo ends up back where he started, broke and with less trust in others than he had before (which is saying a lot). During his internship with Kristoph he managed to get together a tiny rainy day fund and even started to save up for top surgery, but all that money has to be used to cover rent while he’s jobless bc of the Turnabout Trump aftermath. It’s when the money finally runs out that he answers Trucy’s phone call and agrees to work for the WAA

Canon proceeds as normal, but Apollo has extra paranoia because he’s worried all the money and documents and credit that Kristoph gave him were faked. Also, Thalassa doesn't tell Trucy and Apollo about the whole Thing because part of that would be admitting the role she played in how their lives turned out and she is not quite ready to face her demons yet

[possessiveandobsessive]

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

This is the final part of the main story! I can't believe I made it here, and thanks to everyone who has read some or all of this story! This was a huge step for me as a writer and it was wonderful to see some people enjoying it :) I hope this ending is satisfying, and there is an epilogue to come!

Part 13: The Dread Wolf’s Lament

Solas

Solas had to admit, the child was surprisingly adept in her role. He watched from a distance, half hidden behind the broken base of an old pillar, as Rook dodged and danced around a furious Elgar’nan. He had been doubtful upon their first meeting, that she would be remotely helpful, let alone a main player in bringing down his old nemesis. Yet, he was proven wrong again, for the umpteenth time since re-awakening from uthenera. She had revealed herself to be  a powerful individual with a great aptitude for leading causes so much bigger than herself, much to his surprise and later chagrin. 

Solas felt a sigh leave his chapped and split lips, wincing slightly when his breath stung the large cuts around his mouth. He needed her to move faster. Elgar’nan was mortal now, he himself had killed the Archdemon. Well, with the help of the other she-elf… Solas thought back briefly to the shock he had felt when the Archdemon had been wrenched off of him, and that feeling only magnified when he had turned his head to see a mortal elf, a Dalish elf wearing the vallaslin of Dirthamen, compelling the blight to grab and hold the stinking demon in place. He was glad his surprise had not completely frozen him at that moment. He had been able to take advantage of the opportunity to finally end the twisted dragon’s miserable life, and the memory of the tainted blood on his tongue still had him suppressing the urge to gag.

Solas had, however, hesitated in his actions when he had transformed back into his elven form only to see the same Elven woman fall to her knees. Her near unconscious state left her completely vulnerable to the blight surrounding her. It would have been smarter to simply leave her to her fate. He couldn’t even remember her name, but he knew she was a member of Rook’s team, so she knew what she had signed up for. Plus, she was already blighted. There was nothing to be done about her fate in the end. 

So why had he found himself hurrying to her side? His body had seemed to move on its own, crouching beside her barely awake body and tearing away at the blight that was trying to consume her. Solas cursed under his breath at the tendrils that seemed to keep coming back every time he tore them away. He was getting really tired of these distractions from his goal, and it was bad enough he was even taking time to do this irritating task now.

“Fenedhis!” He had hissed, finally giving up and resorting to dipping into the small pool of mana he had left to will the blight tendrils off of her pallid skin. Now completely free of any lingering blight (on the outside anyway) Solas gently placed her on her back in the center of the room, quickly getting back to his feet and hurrying quietly to the place he hid out of view now.

His attention was pulled back to the battle unfolding in front of him when Elgar’nan began to rant and rave in complete rage at Rook, who continued to move lightly around his large form, slashing out with her blade in time with the flares of her magic emitting form the orb in her right hand.

“Insolent children!” The fool screamed in a broken voice at the three mortals surrounding him, “How DARE you! My perfect creation! Impossible! To fall to mortal hands is an OUTRAGE that will not be tolerated!” 

Solas rolled his eyes at the once mighty Evanuris’s childlike shouts of outrage. Not only was the supposed “King” acting like a babe in his sure defeat, but he wasn’t even being entirely accurate in his statements. Solas had killed the Archdemon (he ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that again, unhelpfully pointed out the elven woman’s role), not these mortals who stood before Elgar’nan now.

“You! Rook.” Solas’s eyes snapped back to the fight upon hearing Rook’s name come from the great fool’s mouth in a sneering hiss, “This is your doing. Small, weak, fragile little mortals should know their place. I will take great pleasure now in showing you yours.”

That statement made his stomach churn. Even now, Elgar’nan was a very very powerful opponent, especially for a small, mortal woman like Rook. Indeed, Solas wasn’t entirely certain that he could defeat his nemesis in his current state, weakened as he was, so what chance did Rook stand if Elgar’nan wanted to seriously take her on alone? Not for the first time since he had reunited with Rook in that square, Solas’s fists clenched at his sides, and he found himself silently hoping for her to surprise him again with her victory over impossible odds. 

The entire space in front him was suddenly filled with complete darkness and his hopes plummeted. Solas heard Rook’s companions shout for her, fear clear in their voices as they fought their way out of the darkness, only to realize that Rook was lost to it. Cursing again, Solas began to make his way down towards the dark void. He needed to be prepared to act when Elgar’nan appeared from the darkness victorious. Solas had never known someone to escape this particular trap of the “King’s” alive, and he was done wishing for miracles by now.

A miracle did occur just then, however, and Solas froze just as he had reached the outer edge of the destroyed balcony that Rook and Elgar’nan had been using as a battlefield. The ancient elf stared as Rook re-appeared in front of him, the darkness dissipating just in time for him to see her blade come out of Elgar’nan’s chest and bury itself into his neck. Solas’s breath caught for a moment, disbelief at what he was seeing coursing through his veins. 

She… did it. She killed Elgar’nan. Solas was momentarily struck motionless and silent by the incredible turn of events he never thought to witness. Varric, I see it. I see what you must have seen, now. A wave of nausea hit him at the thought, and as much as he wanted to blame his injuries, Solas knew it was the gnawing grief and guilt over Varric’s death and the way in which he had died. That same small voice in his mind cruelly pointed out the flaw in that statement; Varris hadn’t just died, Solas himself had slain him.

Shaking his head, Solas grimaced and looked to where Rook now stood with the possessed assassin. She downed a healing potion and he found himself frowning further. The last thing he needed right now was this woman at full or nearly full strength, for she was absolutely not going to give him what he needed quietly and without a fight. 

Standing to his full height, Solas moved into her line of sight. He made certain to stand straight and confidently, his hands behind his back completing his nonchalant, godlike presence. “Rook, It appears congratulations are in order.” His voice felt hollow in his own ears, but the timing was perfect. It was at that very moment that the ground began to heave as a new breach began to tear across the sky. The Veil was disintegrating in places as its energy source had been suddenly cut down. Solas needed to complete his ritual now, or the Veil would fall apart in a way that would truly level this world. He needed to have it fall his way, as gently and with as little chaos as possible. He just hoped his loyal spirits still stood ready to do damage control.

Solas looked Rook in the eyes, watching with an impassive look as her startling green eyes narrowed and she took a step towards him. The man who had held her a moment previously reached out for her shoulder and Solas merely watched, curious, as she shrugged his hand off and shook her head at him, signalling that she would face him alone. Foolishly brave as usual, Solas thought mildly as she continued to approach him, her hand falling to the dagger, his dagger, on her belt.

“Okay Solas,” Rook spoke with a steady voice, no hint of fear to be found, “Here we are. What will you do now, Dread Wolf?” 

************************************************************************

Rook

Uneasy. It was the only way to describe how she felt standing before his imposing figure as the world began to fall apart into pieces around her. It would’ve been easier, she thought, if she had just simply elected to take his blood by force. She could lunge forward, and cut him with his cursed dagger that had started this whole thing to begin with. As long as she drew blood, all she would need to do was cut into the Veil and shove his lying, pompous ass inside. It would be over quickly and easily, and she could find a soft bed and let Lucanis hold her while she slept for a full 24 hours.

Unfortunately, that just wasn’t who Rook was. Varric had chosen her to lead this cause in his stead because of the person she was, and making a decision like that would’ve been a dishonor to him in her eyes. No, Varric had wanted Solas to have every opportunity to change, to come back to them and be who he had been during the days of the Inquisition. Varric still saw him as he had been then: a friend, an ally, and a shield against the very darkness he now threatened them with. Okay Varric, if I die here, because of your soft heart, I’m going to find you in the afterlife and strangle you.

“Okay Solas,” Rook fought to keep her voice even and calm, which was incredibly difficult as she stood before a god, “Here we are. What will you do now, Dread Wolf?” 

She spoke his title with disdain, and it made some kind of impact as Rook was certain she saw something shift deep in his eyes. Then they narrowed, the purple of his irises flashing dangerously at her. Shit, she thought as anticipation and fear curled in her gut, not the reaction I was hoping for.

“It seems by now you are aware Rook, that the Veil will be coming down one way or another. The best thing you can-” Solas’s was cut off mid-chastising when Rook began speaking.

“Yes Solas, I am aware that you lied and tricked me again. I wasn’t even surprised when Bellara told us what would happen when Elgar’nan died, which is honestly sad.” 

Solas flinched. It was so minute someone else might have missed it, but Rook was watching his every move and response carefully, looking for a crack she could use to break his facade.

“Now, you are going to tell me that the only way my entire world doesn’t get obliterated, leveled, whatever flowery term you’d use for this particular type of destruction, is to give you the dagger and allow you to finish your ritual to bring the Veil down nicely. Am I on the right track so far?”

Solas’s mouth opened and closed for a moment, giving him the look of an arrogant trout. Rook would’ve laughed at his ridiculous expression, but she was too angry and filled with desperation at the moment for any kind of humor to penetrate her train of thought. She raised an eyebrow at him, “Well?” she prompted again, waiting for a clever response.

Solas’s face settled into a pissed off expression, “You have no idea the magnitude of the events you speak of. Your mind cannot fathom the outcome if I do not finish what you interrupted that night at the ritual site. There is no other way to ensure that some of this world survives-”

“Another lie.” Rook cut him off in a clipped tone, “Come on Solas, would it kill you to give me the respect of at least giving me the full truth? Especially now, as we stand here with the world crumbling around us in the wake of me doing the very thing you have been telling me I never could? Is it so impossible for Fen’Harel to name all of the options for repairing the situation we’re in? Or are you just avoiding the option that ends with you actually paying for and doing something to remedy your selfish actions?”

Ooooohhhh I’ve done it now. Rook thought sullenly as she watched Solas’s eyes begin to glow in response to her taunts. Probably should’ve backed off a little there at the end, he looks like he wants to-

It was Rook whose train of thought was cut short this time, as Solas rushed her and ripped the dagger she held from her grip. She gasped and fell back onto her ass as he shoved her from him, taking the dagger and beginning to walk to the crumbling edge of the balcony. He strode to the bottom part of a broken staircase that led up a short distance before ending abruptly in the air. Rook scrambled to her feet and went after him, this was her last chance before he backed her into the corner from which there was no returning.

“Solas!” She shouted at his stiff back as he began to climb the few steps that remained of the grand staircase, “You don’t have to do this! I know you don’t want to hurt people, you don’t want tens of thousands of deaths on your conscience!” 

Solas didn’t respond. Instead, he held the dagger over his head and prepared to cut into the weakening Veil.

“You aren’t going to save anyone by bringing down the Veil, Solas!” Rook continued shouting over the growing wind stirred up by the widening breach in the sky. “Your world is gone! And I’m sorry for that! I can’t imagine how it must feel, having fought so hard to save your people, only to wake up and find the world so different from how you remember it! I know that you see the current Elvhen people, mortal, fragile, and in many ways disconnected from the Fade, from our roots. But we are not gone! And we aren’t suffering! We found a new way to live and thrive in our new circumstances!  Mortality is in many ways a gift, it has shown us how precious life is, and stirred within each of us the desire to have a purpose, just as the spirits we came from do!”

Solas paused with the dagger held above his head. Rook’s eyes widened as she saw his hand trembling. He was hearing her, he was listening! 

“Solas, you can stop this. You can use your own life to sustain the Veil and protect the world you created all those years ago. It looks different, and the people who inhabit it are new, but they are still living beings. You alone can save them, save us, and the world we all love so dearly.”

Rook finished with a shaking voice, her words giving way to a raw emotion that burned in her chest. Fear, anger, grief, love, hope, all these feelings mixed within her, building and growing like a wildfire. Please, Rook begged, not even sure who or what she was speaking to in her mind, please let him see. Let him find the strength to stop. I’m not sure I have the strength to force him if he refuses. 

The corners of her eyes prickled with tears as she watched Solas seem to wage a war in his own mind. The two sides of every emotion battled for dominance: Justice versus vengeance, compassion and mercy versus fear and rage, hope versus despair and regret, wisdom versus pride. Rook could see the struggle of his twin natures and thoughts twisting and fighting inside him. She had felt something similar herself in the regret prison. 

“I…cannot stop now.” Solas spoke in a broken tone, his voice unlike Rook had ever heard it before. “To do so, it would dishonor the ones I have hurt and betrayed to come this far.” He let out a shaking sigh, and Rook could see him steeling his resolve again as he turned back towards the open air with the dagger raised. 

No! Rook took a step forward, her hand going to the hilt of the real dagger hidden between her underclothes and her leathers at her back. She grit her teeth, fighting back her angry tears, when she suddenly felt a gentle touch on her arm. Head whipping to the right, Rook was shocked to meet the steady, calm gaze of Alyss Lavellan. The Inquisitor shook her head at Rook, before turning and walking ahead of Rook to the first step of the staircase Solas stood at the top of.

“Even if those you’ve wronged asked you to stop?”

************************************************************************

Inquisitor Alyss Lavellan

Alyss of Clan Lavellan decided one thing as she worked to scale the side of yet another ruined building and pulled herself to the top with a groan: she was getting far too old for this whole “the world is ending” bullshit. Her knees clicked and protested as she quickly got to her feet and took off across the top of the wall at a run, ignoring the thought that a single misstep would most likely mean her death. She fought a smirk at the idea, the great Inquisitor Lavellan, The Herald of Andraste, and the savior of Thedas, meeting her end tragically by tripping and falling between seventy and eighty feet and breaking her neck. It would be right on par for my luck, she thought, jumping a slight gap in her path, to make it through all that I have, only to die trying to save the insane man I love from himself.

A gasp tore through her throat and ripped her from her idle thoughts as the entire palace began to shake violently. What- Alyss didn’t even have time to guess at what horrendous, world ending event was happening now, because her question was answered as soon as she turned her face up into the night sky. 

“You… have got to be fucking kidding me right now!” She shouted out loud into the empty space around her as she found her feet again even amidst the earth’s continued trembling. A breach in the Veil was currently lighting up the sky above her, aggressively tearing itself and the Veil around it apart with a terrifying speed. “Rook, she must have killed Elgar’nan.” The Inquisitor muttered, “I am OUT of time.”

With that, Alyss took off at a dead sprint, nimbly jumping down from the wall using small platforms that had been created from falling stones as the Archon’s Palace was reduced to rubble. She had to get there in time, there was no other option. As much as she wished to believe that Rook could talk Solas down on her own, she knew better. Solas was a being of pride, he was stubborn as all hell. Alyss believed that who he was at his core though, a being of wisdom with compassion threaded throughout, was still there. He could still be reached, he could be saved.

She pushed her aching body faster, using her magic to maneuver the environment around her to create the shortest path to where Solas and Rook were. Memories danced at the edges of her mind. Alyss could see Solas as he helped her close her first rift, could feel his firm but gentle grip on her left wrist as he directed the anchor’s power through her hand. She saw him standing in front of the cabin in the back corner of Haven, flashing her genuine smiles as she questioned him eagerly about his life and travels in the Fade. Solas standing next to her, his quiet strength seeping into her weary bones in the aftermath of Corypheus’s attack on Haven. His devastated face and thunderous voice as he set upon the idiot mages who had bound and killed his friend. Alyss could see flashes of their entire journey together as they fought to heal the very Veil he now sought to bring down.

The Inquisitor fought the tears that threatened to collect in the corners of her eyes as she was hit with the memories that were too hard to remember these days. Solas kissing her back in that first Fade dream they had shared, Solas kissing her on her balcony as the sun sat low in the sky. He had murmured that it was a bad idea, but it seemed neither of them actually cared to consider the consequences as they continued to fall deeper and deeper in love with one another. Then, there was that night in the clearing. 

Alyss swallowed the knot in her throat that had formed at the memory of him standing in front of her, looking at her with the softest expression she had ever seen him wear. Solas had removed her vallaslin that night, something she still had confusing and difficult feelings about to this day. He had wanted her to be free of what he knew to be slave’s marks, and he had called her beautiful after her face was bare of them. But… He had taken something from her then, too. Whatever had been left of the person she was before the Inquisition, before him, disappeared in the chilly, nighttime breeze that swept through the lush green grass at her ankles.

Solas had given her everything, his mind, his heart, the parts of his very soul that he clung to as the remains of his true self. Alyss closed her eyes at the idea, tears finally slipping through her lashes as she paused at the edge of the stone precipice she stood on. Solas had taken everything from her as well. Her identity as one of The People, her faith and vallaslin, and her heart that had begun to beat for him and him alone. He called her his heart, his vhenan, and she had responded in kind because he was hers as well. And then he left. He left his heart behind that day she confronted him in front of the Eluvian. Solas had left a piece of himself behind as he stole her arm and left with her heart. 

The heart that still resided in her chest beat unevenly for a moment and Alyss had to take a moment to steady herself. Dwelling on that pain, it did neither of them any good. She was here to set him free of his pain and regret, and to set herself free as well. Alyss Lavellan was determined, determined to take back her heart, as well as return the Dread Wolf’s back to him.

Finally having reached the ground on the edge of the balcony, the Inquisitor fell into a crouch and crept towards the place at the bottom of a broken staircase where Rook stood, shouting at Solas’s back. The sight of him after so long almost made her pause, but she knew she couldn’t stop now, not when she was so close. As Alyss slipped into the shadows behind the younger woman and silently moved to sit at her right flank, she could finally make out the words Rook was yelling to Solas over the sound of the wind.

“Solas, you can stop this. You can use your own life to sustain the Veil and protect the world you created all those years ago. It looks different, and the people who inhabit it are new, but they are still living beings. You alone can save them, save us, and the world we all love so dearly!” Rook’s voice was hoarse, and Alyss imagined she had been standing here yelling at him for several minutes already.

Then, her attention was brought back to the man at the top of the stairs as he turned back to Rook slightly to speak.

“I…cannot stop now.” Solas sounded broken, an unfamiliar sound to her ears. It hurt her to hear him sound so utterly ruined. “To do so, it would dishonor the ones I have hurt and betrayed to come this far.” 

He shuddered then, before beginning to turn back towards the empty space at the top of the staircase and raise the dagger again. The light from the growing breach in the sky cast a green, otherworldly glow on everything. Shadows seemed to dance around them, and then Alyss saw Rook’s brow furrow as the elf took a step towards Solas, reaching for what the Inquisitor knew to be the real lyrium dagger at her back. 

Alyss moved then, standing from her hiding spot and placing her hand on Rook’s shoulder. Rook looked at her in surprise, her green eyes widening as the Inquisitor shook her head at her. Rook’s body relaxed, and Alyss placed a comforting hand on the woman’s lower back. Her rogue training with Varric over the years had paid off, and she was able to grasp and ease the dagger from Rook’s belt without her noticing. Then, she stepped forward and drew upon all of her remaining strength and confidence.

“Even if those you’ve wronged asked you to stop?” Alyss was relieved when her voice came out steady and clear instead of breaking to illustrate how difficult this moment was for her.

Solas swung his body around to face her so quickly, she thought he was going to lose his balance for a moment. Her blue eyes met violet as she watched his bruised and cut face crumple into an expression of pain. He took a breath to steady himself, but it didn’t appear to help much. 

“Vhenan.” Solas’s voice came out a broken whisper, as if he was giving name to a painful memory. His eyes took on a glassy sheen, and he looked so vulnerable as he began to take a shaky step towards her before stopping himself.

“You think you’ve gone too far to come back,” Alyss took several slow, measured steps towards him as she spoke softly, “But you’re wrong.”

He turned his face away from her, staring down at his feet and then closing his eyes, as if trying to block out the sound of her voice. She did not stop.

“I am here, walking the Dinan’shiral with you.” Her voice quivered slightly with the last two words. She couldn’t break now, she had to get through to him right here, at this moment. She owed him that much.

“I… lied.” Solas’s response came out husky and quiet, sounding like each word was painful to speak. He turned his face slightly to look at her, “I betrayed you.” Voice breaking then, Solas turned to hide his face again. 

He’s ashamed. The thought made her heart and spirit ache on his behalf. He held so much pain, so much blame and regret, too much, for a single man. “I forgive you!” Alyss’s voice rang out loudly, even against the rushing sound of the wind and the crackling of the breach. “All you have to do is stop, Solas!”

When Solas turned to face her again, his back was straighter and his face had returned to his impassive mask. Her heart squeezed at the sight. “Ir abelas, vhenan.” Even now, he spoke the word with reverence. Her love turned from her before speaking again, “I cannot.”

His voice regained some strength as he desperately tried to make her understand. “Before we met, I failed my oldest friend. She died for that failure. If I leave the Veil in place, I am destroying any hope for the world she wanted. And I will have-” Solas broke off for a pause, “She will have died for nothing.”

Alyss’s expression darkened. She remembered vividly the conversation she had with Morrigan just before this final push had begun.

“He is trapped by his unwavering loyalty to Mythal. A version of her that has not existed for many thousands of years to be precise. Fen’Harel blames himself for not only her death, but for the great horrors they committed together, with him following her orders, even as painful and against his nature they were. He believes his “abandoning” her is what led to the other Evanuris being able to trick and ultimately kill her. Everything he has done since then, the rebellion, the imprisonment of the Evanuris, the creation of the Veil, giving the orb to Corypheus, all of this he did in order to make it right. Solas believes the only way for him to atone, is to create the world Mythal always longed for.”

“If you are to convince him to stop, you must show him the flaws in his logic. Mythal was not a perfect being. Everyone, the first elves especially, we exist mostly in a state of grey. We can be selfish, we sometimes take from others what we want for ourselves, and we instinctively protect only who and what we value. That is the reality of existing on the mortal plane. Here, no one is just one thing, No living being among us exists for only one purpose anymore, not him, and not Mythal, all those years ago, either.”

“You, Alyss, must remind him that he is not the villain in her story, or in the history of our world. What evil he did, they did together. She decided her fate, even if his finally walking away from her allowed it to happen more quickly. Remind him that Mythal was not an all-knowing, purely benevolent force after she took on her physical form. She was flawed, she contained darkness as well as light. What she wanted then, not only does not matter now, but is not even an accurate reflection of what she would want if she were alive now.”

“Solas must let go of his past, of his deepest regret. And he must be reminded that even in the deepest darkness, we mortals seem to always be able to find the light.”

Alyss had been angry at first, before realizing that anger and regret were exactly the problem. What had happened, had happened. All that mattered was now. So, she pulled the small statue of Mythal that contained the other soul fragment of the slain goddess. Morrigan had given it to her before she broke off from the group to find Solas and Rook. The woman who had become her friend over the last ten years had leveled her with a serious look as she pressed it into her palm. 

“I trust that you will know what to do with it, when the time is right. Now, I need you to trust yourself, Alyss Lavellan.” She could still feel the weight of Morrigan’s words as she walked up to where Solas stood. She surprised herself when she reached out and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn and look her in the face.

************************************************************************

Solas

When he felt her grab his shoulder and pulled him to look at her, his resolve nearly shattered then. Alyss was just as beautiful as he remembered her, even though he had not seen her in eight years. Her red hair still glinted like fire in the light, and his hand itched to brush aside the few strands that had come loose from her hair tie and fallen around her face. Her big blue eyes held what appeared to be every emotion he could name, and many more he could not. She was like no one he had ever met or thought to meet before, and she had captured his attention and later, his heart, all too easily. 

But it was not to be. He had his duty, and he couldn’t let anything stop him from completing the promise he had made to a dead Mythal so so long ago. Yet, he so badly wanted to. Solas wanted nothing more than to forget about everything he had seen, done, and lived before her. He wanted to simply be the man he had become during his time with the Inquisition, the man he had become with her. He found himself nearly sobbing as she now stood before him again, after all these years, still trying to save him, even after everything. 

Alyss began to speak then, her voice just as enrapturing as it had been the first time he had heard it. “Solas, I know. I know why you’re doing this, why you feel like you have to.” He opened his mouth to deny her, to tell her she could not possibly fathom the depths of his regret, when she stopped him with her next words.

“I know about Mythal, Solas.” 

Solas flinched back as if she had struck him, but she took a step forward again and placed her hand on his arm before she continued to break his meticulously built walls down after all this time.

“I know what you did, what she asked you to do. I know that you blame yourself for her death at the hands of the other Evanuris after you walked away, and I know that she is the reason you are still chasing this mad dream after so many years.” She paused, seeming to take in his stiffened form and terrified expression. Alyss then surprised him again, as she did every time he saw her or listened to her speak.

“But Solas, it wasn’t your fault she was killed. Mythal made her own choices, some of them flawed, of her own free will. To take a physical form, to walk this plane, you expose yourself to more than your own purpose.” She smiled at him and her words seemed to echo in his mind even as she continued.

“Mythal was no more pure when she was killed than you are now, standing before me. She gave up being pure benevolence or justice when she used the blood of the Titan’s to walk among them. She acted the way mortals do, because being mortal means having to sort through every part of yourself to find an answer. We fear, we hate, we love, we conquer, mortals living here with physical forms are much more emotionally complex than spirits, it’s why we are so flawed.”

“Yet, we hope for a better day in the midst of a storm, and we love even when we know it will bring pain. It’s what it means to be alive in this world, and so so many of us are happy to be alive here, Solas.”

Her mouth twisted, and her eyes turned desperate as she looked at him. Alyss brought her right hand from behind her back, and Solas let out a sharp exhale. In her hand was a small, blue statuette of Mythal, and he could immediately tell it held a small fragment of her soul within it. Solas expected to be happy at the sight, a piece of his oldest friend right in front of him, but instead, he felt a pang of fear and resentment. Shocked, he felt the pieces begin to come together in his mind. He had been chasing a ghost, a Mythal that had not existed since the day she had asked him, begged him to take a physical form with her. Mythal had not been the friend he cherished for a long time, even before she was killed at the hands of the others.

“This is a fragment of Mythal that Rook discovered in the Crossroads. I, I think it’s time we allow her to rest, to have the opportunity to be reborn anew, just like your friend, all those years ago.”

A choked sob left Solas’s chest before he could stop it. She was right. Alyss had always been right. He had denied her, lied to her, betrayed her trust, hurt her, and run from her, and yet, here she was, standing with him on the hardest day of his long, long life. Shaking, Solas raised his hand and placed it above Alyss’s on the statuette. Meeting her eyes, he simply nodded, and without hesitation, she threw it to the ground on behalf of both of them.

Solas heard Rook gasp from behind him as white/blue light exploded from the statuette as it shattered into small pieces. The light seemed to swirl in the air for a moment, manifesting as a sort of cloud. It hung above he and Alyss for a moment, before he felt her consciousness brush against his own for a fraction of a second. Gratitude. That was the feeling Mythal conveyed to him before she moved on, back to the Fade, to become something new. The remaining blue glass-like shards turned to dust and blew away in the still intense wind that gusted around them.

Solas finally gathered the courage to look at Alyss again, and fell to his knees at the look in her eyes. Love. Unconditional love shone brightly from her beautiful eyes.

Her hand came down to cup his battered face, and then she knelt as well. Both of them now on their knees, she rubbed her thumb gently over his cheekbone, and he couldn’t help but lean into her touch.

“Banal nadas, ar lath ma Vhenan.” “There is no fate, but the love we share, my heart.”

Her voice was soft and layered with so many things they left unsaid. More quiet sobs wrenched themselves from his chest, but the deep ache he had been carrying for so many years seemed… lighter. Solas brought his hand up to cover the one Alyss had placed on his cheek and held it for a moment before he climbed to his feet and pulled her with him. 

Taking a deep breath, Solas looked from Alyss’s face to Rook, who stood exactly where she had been the entire time. The young warden had an unreadable expression on her face, but it soon lit up when she saw him raise the dagger to his own hand.

“Wait,” Alyss stopped him with a hand on his wrist, “It won’t work unless you use the real one.” She reached behind her and pulled what he now realized to be his actual dagger from her waistband. 

************************************************************************

Rook

All Rook could think as she watched the Inquisitor pull the real dagger from her own waistband was that this woman was her hero. She had no idea how or when Inquisitor Lavellan had taken it from her, nor did Rook have any idea as to how she had the statuette of Mythal. The warden found that she did not care about either of those things at the moment though. 

Rook nearly took an involuntary step back when Solas turned to face her after gaping at the fake dagger in his hand, but controlled herself enough to remain planted where she was. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and Rook wondered if he was about to kill her where she stood. His face wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t really anything, so she remained wary. 

Her whole world seemed to tilt on its axis then, as Solas threw his head back and laughed. Rook couldn’t help but stare in mute shock as the Dread Wolf’s shoulders shook, and he soon doubled over with the force of his laughter. Looking up, Rook shot the Inquisitor a wild look that said, What in the actual fuck is happening right now??, and to her mounting disbelief, the Inquisitor simply gave her a crooked half smile before chuckling herself.

I am dead. Rook decided, unable to fathom the scene in front of her, Elgar’nan killed me, and this is some weird afterlife vision created from my clearly broken mind.

Finally Solas’s laughter ceased and he stood to his full height to address her. “Rook, you, you would’ve beaten me fairly, with wits alone.” 

Rook’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and she stared at him, not entirely sure what he was going on about.

“This dagger,” he waved the fake in the air before tossing it to her. She caught it in her left hand and looked back at him. “I believed it to be the real one.” Solas’s admission stunned Rook, but she held back her reaction to let him continue.

“You could’ve just let me attempt to use it on the Veil and overpowered me in my resulting stupor. It would have been easy for you to cut me with the true one, which I’m certain you had in your possession until very recently,” Solas shot a glance at Lavellan who grinned innocently at him from where she stood just behind him, “ and used my blood to bind me to the Veil before casting me off to rot.” He shook his head then, “I would have deserved it, after everything I’ve done. Especially after the things I did to you.” 

Solas then brought his head up again, and looked Rook deep in her eyes, “I am, so sorry for what I did to you Rook. And… for what I did to Varric, who clearly meant a lot to you.”

Rook stiffened, a swirling mass of emotion coming to rest at the base of her throat. She believed him. After everything, he had this look in his eye, one that she felt she could trace back deeply into his soul. Solas was truly sorry for hurting her. So, Rook nodded at him. The gesture communicated what she needed it to: She forgave him.

Solas’s eyes filled with gratitude, and he bowed his head to her, going to stand before the Inquisitor again. When he stood in front of her though, Fen’Harel, god of lies, treachery, and rebellion (depending on the story), said to her: “Thank you, Rook. For giving me one last chance, even when I didn’t deserve one and you had no reason to give me one.”

Rook felt her own eyes fill with tears as they start to run down her dirty face. I see him, Varric. Rook thought as she watched Solas use the real dagger to slice deeply into the palm of his hand, sealing his fate at last. I see your friend. I’m glad neither of us gave up on him. 

“My life force now sustains the Veil.” Solas spoke loudly enough for Rook and the growing crowd of straggling allies behind her to hear. 

Rook jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder, but quickly relaxed when she recognized Lucanis’s gloves. She leaned back into his warm body, letting him keep her upright as they watched Solas.

“With every breath I take, I shall protect the innocent from my past failures.” Solas looked to Rook now when he spoke again, “The Titans dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help soothe its anger.” 

Rook felt her eyes go wide. Soothe… the blight? Could he? And if he could… would that mean the end of the Blights as she and the other wardens knew them?

Then, he tossed the real dagger to her. Before she could force her exhausted body to fumble and grab it out of the air, a hand shot out from behind her and snatched it from the air. Lucanis then placed the dagger into her hand, and grinned at her stunned expression. “For you.” He said, his tone and accent somehow making the words sound formal. Rook giggled at his proud look and relished the feeling of his arms around her when he returned to his stance behind her. Lucanis placed his chin on her shoulder as they both turned their attention back to the Dread Wolf and the Inquisitor.

“I shall go seek atonement.” Solas spoke the words firmly, with his chin held high, and turned to face a new rift that had appeared just above where he and Lavellan stood.

“But you do not have to go alone.” The Inquisitor’s voice made him pause, and Rook watched as Solas slowly turned to look at her. There was pain in his eyes as he seemed to take her in for a moment.

As Lavellan moved to stand before him, she grasped both of his hands with her own. Solas closed his speaking softer now, “Ar ghilas vir banal.”

Rook’s heart clenched in her chest, the place I am going is terrible. A rough translation, but any translations of elvhen tended to be rough.

“Tel banal ara'ma vir shiral ma'lasa belanaras.” 

“It won't be terrible if you're with me. We make this journey together, always.”

Solas’s eyes went wide and Rook watched as several tears made their way down Solas’s face. He was looking at the Inquisitor with more tenderness than Rook thought possible for someone such as him, but he had proved her wrong this time.

With that Solas, Fen’Harel, The Dread Wolf, Spirit of Wisdom, turned to face the tear in front of him. Inquisitor Lavellan stood just behind him, placing a hand in his and her other on his shoulder. She turned to face Rook one last time.

“Morrigan has letters I wrote in her possession,” Lavellan paused, “Please make sure they find their recipients. I…I need to know that they made it to the ones I love. I hate to ask more of you, but, will you promise me to take care of this, Rook?”

“I will.” Rook said, her voice wavering slightly as she swallowed down more of her tears. “I will take them myself.”

“Thank you, Rook.” The Inquisitor said softly. A beat passed, “And, tell Dorian I’m sorry. But this is my path, and I’m finally choosing it for myself.”

With that, the two of them stepped into the Veil tear.

Bright light flashed all around her as Rook watched every rift seal itself. The breach was the last to go, but it too, snapped shut with a final burst of light that illuminated all of Minrathous below. 

Then, it was silent. Rook could hear the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she stood frozen for several moments. Lucanis’s arms tightened around her and she sagged into him. Voices began filling the night all around her, but all Rook could feel was overwhelming exhaustion and sorrow. As much as they had won tonight, too much was lost. 

Davrin leaned down next to them and said something to Lucanis. Rook couldn’t make out every word, but she heard enough to fill her with relief. Everyone made it. The Veilguard had triumphed in the bitter end. Rook closed her eyes. Everything was too much, too loud. She was in pain and had too many thoughts in her head and feelings in her chest. Panic started to tug at the edges of her fragmented thoughts and she stiffened.

Lucanis murmured something in her ear that she couldn’t comprehend in her current state, and then she was being lifted off of the ground. She curled herself into Lucanis’s chest and let the gentle swaying of his gait calm her racing mind. Rook laid her head against his chest, and let the strong beat of his heart set the pace as she forced her own to slow.

It was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. Their enemies were defeated, the world was saved, and Rook was safe in the arms (and wings) of the man she loved more than anything. 

The End

Part 12 Part 11 Part 10 Part 9

Part 8 Part 7 Part 6 Part 5

Part 4 Part 3 Part 2 Part 1

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[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 6)

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__________

The sky is already light when Nikolai wakes up. He's disoriented and confused, and for one awful moment he doesn't remember where he is. He's used to waking up in the dark during the winter, to the shrieking calls of sea birds on the beach below his house, and to the warmth of another person next to him in bed. He looks around frantically, convinced he's going to be late for something important and that no one had bothered to remind him about it.

As the fog of sleep clears from his brain, he's able to identify his surroundings. This is Beth-Anne's guest room, or perhaps not so much a guest room as a den, or... a home office with a bed in it. On the opposite side of the room from where his ridiculously comfortable bed is, there's a filing cabinet, and a desk with a laptop computer attached to an external monitor. On the wall above the desk are numerous framed pictures, news articles and award plaques. In the center of the arrangement are two gold medals.

Nikolai allows himself to relax. One of those medals is his. He'd given it to Beth-Anne nearly ten years ago, and it makes him happy to see that she has it on display.

He lets his gaze travel around a bit more. His coat is draped over the back of the desk chair, and his two green suitcases are visible just inside the open closet door. Next to the suitcases, he notices his skate bag and a medium-sized cardboard box with something scribbled on the side of it in black marker. On top of the box is a grey teddy bear with a little fake gold medal on a dark green satin ribbon around its neck. He can't see it from this distance without his glasses any more than he can read what's on the box, but he knows the bear has the word 'champion' stitched onto its foot in white embroidery thread.

I don't remember bringing that here.

Beth-Anne must've thought he'd want it, and gathered it up along with his other things without mentioning it. He's had the bear since he was ten years old, since his first competition in the Novice division, and Champion has accompanied him to every single skating competition since then.

Going through security at airports, he always attracted funny looks from security agents and fellow passengers alike for carrying the teddy bear under his arm, but he didn't care. It comforted him to cuddle Champion while hunkering down miserably in the uncomfortable plane seats and trying not to think about his upset stomach and rattled nerves. He hates flying and suffers horribly with airsickness, but he was never allowed to take anything for it on the way to a competition. The last thing he and Beth-Anne would've wanted was for him to have failed a banned substance screening test.

He smiles ruefully. I'll bet I'd fail if they gave me one right now.

He's been at Beth-Anne's house for two days and three nights. It's not that he didn't recognize his own things in the room before, but that he hadn't been alert enough to observe much of anything, or to retain his observations even if he had been. Having been doped up on painkillers and anti-anxiety medication, there are whole chunks of time missing from his perception of the past couple of days. He's pretty sure he didn't leave his bed except to go to the bathroom, and he guesses he'd been sleeping a lot. He has vague memories of Beth-Anne feeding him soup.

He squints at the clock on the small table next to the bed. It's 7:04 a.m. The day isn't as far gone as he'd thought, and for some reason the knowledge fills him with a sense of reassurance.

The next thing he does is take an assessment of his body. He's a little stiff, but that's likely from lying around too long and probably isn't anything that can't be resolved with some good stretches. His knee still hurts, but not nearly as much as before. Under the blankets, he flexes his leg cautiously. Maybe he can forego the stronger pain medication for now and just take a couple of ibuprofen tablets instead.

He sits up in bed and starts his stretching routine. Neck, shoulders and arms he can do in a seated position, but he's going to have to get up to stretch his back muscles. He wonders if his bad knee will support him well enough to do some leg exercises too, or if he'll have to wait for Beth-Anne to help him do the ones the physiotherapist prescribed.

After climbing out of bed and working the tension from his back, he decides to err on the side of caution and skip the leg work until Beth-Anne is available to supervise him. He limps over to the closet and pulls one of his suitcases out. He's eager for a shower and fresh clothes.

In the process of retrieving his suitcase, he's able to get a better look at the box next to it. What he thought was a scribble when he viewed it from across the room actually turns out to be one. He can just make out the word 'DONATE' beneath a frenetic zigzag of black ink. Above it, in Beth-Anne's precise handwriting, is his own name.

Intrigued, he abandons his suitcase and drags the box out instead. It's folded closed at the top, but there's something purple poking out through the little gap where the flaps of the overfilled box don't quite meet. He knows what it is even before he tugs the flaps of the box apart to reveal its contents.

The purple item is the costume he'd worn for his long program at the Four Continents. They'd tried to cut it off his leg at the hospital in Taiwan, and he'd begged them not to. Through the interpreter, he said he didn't care if he had to sit around in nothing but his underpants and a hospital gown. He wanted to take the costume off himself, intact. They'd allowed him to do that in the end, and he was appreciative of the small kindness.

Under the purple costume is the glittery black and red one he'd worn for his short program. He frowns. Why would his costumes be in a carton that had originally been marked for donation? For that matter, why would his two most recent costumes be in a cardboard box at all? He hasn't kept every skating costume he's ever worn, but he does have a lot of them, and they're all hanging neatly in a wardrobe cupboard in his basement, protected by garment bags and labelled by year.

Perhaps more importantly, he amends, what are my costumes doing in a box here at Beth-Anne's house?

He can guess, but he really doesn't want to go there. Not right now. He's not prepared to wrap his head around the notion of someone he loves being intentionally cruel to him.

But, Anya had already done something mean to him. She'd taken his medals off the wall in their dining room, pulling them all down while he watched helplessly. That had hurt, but he'd somehow convinced himself it wasn't so bad. He could return them to their display frame later. Anya said she'd put them away. When he felt able to restore them to their proper place, he could always ask her where she'd put them, unless...

Nikolai shakes his head.

No.

Anya wouldn't give away his medals. She has a few medals of her own. She knows how important they are. He prefers a less dramatic explanation, like maybe the box was something Beth-Anne had lying around in her garage and she just grabbed it to transport some of his things in. That hypothetical version of events is much easier to accept.

He wants to discover what else is in the box, but an alarmingly loud growl from his stomach reminds him that he has priorities. He probably hasn't eaten a proper meal in two days, and his skin feels sticky and gross. Shower, and then breakfast. Later, when he's got nothing else to do, he can come back to the box.

The hot shower revives him, and he feels almost normal by the time he hobbles into the kitchen on his crutches about fifteen minutes later.

Beth-Anne is standing at the counter next to the sink. Her back is to him, but she turns when he says her name. She's dressed in form-fitting black athletic pants and a red zip-front fleece top, and her curly honey-coloured hair is caught into a messy little bun. She isn't wearing makeup, and the scars on her face are clearly visible on her pale, freckled skin.

She's going to the rink, Nikolai realizes. Oddly, he doesn't know how he feels about that. Of course she should be going to the rink. She's a skating coach, and her job is at the rink. Her students need her. But, she'd stayed home with him for the past two days, and he'd liked that. He's not certain he's ready to be left alone yet.

Beth-Anne offers him a smile. "How are you feeling, sweetheart? You look better."

"I feel a little better," he says. "What's for breakfast? I'm starving."

She laughs. "Yeah, that's definite proof you're on the mend. How about a ham and cheese omelette? That's what I'm making for myself, and it's easy enough to make two. There's oranges and grapefruit in the fridge, and I bought extra milk. Oh, and there's coffee. Help yourself."

He takes an orange from the fridge and pours himself a cup of coffee. While Beth-Anne cooks, he sits at the table and methodically peels and sections his orange. They're both quiet for a while, but finally he ventures, "Are you... are you going to work today?"

"Yes," she tells him. "Mariah and Brett have been skating by themselves for three days now. Stan said he’d keep an eye on them, but that’s not his responsibility. Plus, you know Brett has Junior Worlds coming up in a few weeks. He needs me to be just as committed to that as he is.”

“Oh,” Nikolaï says. "That's right."

He hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed. Suddenly embarrassed, he lowers his head and gazes dismally at his half-eaten orange.

He’s not jealous of Brett exactly, but he does envy the fourteen year old for the chance to compete in a world championship. Nikolai will never do that again. He'll never get to feel the flutter of nervous anticipation in the seconds before he steps onto the ice, or the focus and calm confidence that replaces it when his music begins. He'll never again experience the joy of performing a beautiful and complicated step sequence or the exhilaration of landing a perfect jump. People cheering for him and throwing bouquets onto the ice, Beth-Anne hugging him in the kiss-and-cry and drying his tears with her ubiquitous old-fashioned handkerchiefs while they wait for his scores, the national anthem playing during medal presentations... all of that is over for him now.

One might argue he's had his moment of glory — several, in fact — and that's something to be grateful for. He is grateful for his success, but that does nothing to ease the dull, empty ache in his chest when he imagines what might've been. The truth is, he wasn't ready to leave the sport, isn't ready despite the reality of it. He's only twenty-seven. If it weren't for this devastating injury, he might've had two or three good seasons left before he made his own decision to retire. Maybe he would've even won another medal at Worlds this year. He'd certainly been on track to qualify for the world championship.

But now the only one of Beth-Anne's students who'll be going to a world championship event is Brett Eriksson. He'll be the one getting all the praise and accolades and Beth-Anne's undivided attention, and Nikolai will be doing what? Sitting at home in a pool of his own self-pitying tears?

Nikolai Pavlenko, be a man. You will not cry over this any more, he orders himself fiercely, but the demand has little effect. His throat already feels like it's starting to close, and there's an unwelcome prickling behind his eyes that warns of impending tears.

Beth-Anne shuts off the stove and turns toward the table with a plate in each hand. Nikolai hadn't even noticed that she was done cooking their omelettes, and his face burns with a new wave of embarrassment.

She takes one look at him, hurries forward and quickly sets the plates down. A second or two later, her hand is on his cheek, as if she's checking to see if the flush of colour that he knows must be there might be from a fever.

He raises his eyes to meet hers, and all he sees in her expression is love and concern for him. Brett may need her undivided attention, but she loves him. She put her regularly-scheduled life on hold for the past handful of days for him, lost sleep for him, allowed Brett to skate alone. For him.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"No," he manages to get the words past the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry. I... I'm being selfish."

"You're being human," she says. Her hand moves up to brush back his unruly hair. She can't possibly know what he'd been thinking, but it almost seems like she can read his mind because she continues with, "This isn't going to be an easy adjustment for you. I get that. It's going to be scary and confusing, and if you're angry or sad or envious of the others or... whatever, it's totally okay. I promise."

"How do you...?" he begins, but doesn't finish the question.

"How do I know?"

"Yeah."

"Did you think I retired voluntarily from competing?" she asks.

"Didn't you? You never told me it wasn't voluntary, so I assumed it was. But... it wasn't?"

"No, it wasn't," she says. "If you want to know what happened, I'll tell you, but not right this minute. Right now, you need to eat your breakfast. We have things to do today, and you need the protein.”

She steps away from him and settles into the chair across the table from his. He's sufficiently distracted by the revelation that she hadn't given up competing by choice that his other emotions temporarily fade to the back of his consciousness.

"I do want to know," he says. "And what do you mean, we have things to do? What do I have to do?"

"Eat your breakfast and then put on some warm clothes," says Beth-Anne, apparently unbothered about talking with her mouth full. "You're going to the rink."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not going to have you sitting around here feeling sorry for yourself all day long. You're allowed to feel like that, but not all day, every day. That's dangerous, and I'll be damned if I let you put yourself in harm's way when there's something we can do about it."

He's so relieved, he doesn't even think before blurting out the first thing that pops into his head. "So, I don't have to be alone? I can be with you all day?"

"If you're feeling up to going out, yes."

"Yes," he says. "But, what am I going to do there? Should I bring a book?"

Beth-Anne looks amused. "I guess you can if you want, but I had something a little more constructive in mind."

"Like what?"

"Like being my assistant," she says. "I'd like you to observe the students while I'm working with them, especially Brett and little Eden. You'll be able to spot things I might not see, things they're doing really well or things they need to work on. Watch me, too. See how I interact with them."

"I already know how you interact with students," he says.

"You know how I interact with you," she corrects. "Observing from the outside, seeing how I interact with other students will give you a different perspective. More of a coach's-eye view, you might say."

"A...what?" He has to admit this idea has literally never occurred to him, but to be fair, up until a month ago he hadn't given much thought at all to his life beyond his career as a professional athlete. He's always known he'd have to stop competing eventually, but he also assumed he'd have more time to figure out his future plans. "You think I could be a coach?"

"No idea," says Beth-Anne around another mouthful of eggs. "You might be absolutely fucking terrible at it, although somehow I doubt that, but we're not going to know one way or the other if we don't give it a try, are we?"

"You're serious."

"When have you ever known me to not be serious?"

"I don't know if I want to be a coach," he confesses. "I don't know what I want, really."

"That's okay," she says. "Ultimately, whatever you do will be your choice. But in the meantime, this'll at least give you something to do and keep your mind off..." She pauses awkwardly before concluding. "Stuff."

It's difficult to argue with her reasoning. She isn't wrong about it being dangerous for him to dwell on all his negative thoughts and feelings. After all, look what that had earned him; the final breath of his already dying marriage, contemplation of suicide, a tearful phone call in the middle of the night, an urgent trip to the hospital, and a massive dose of prescription drugs he'd probably needed but didn't want.

The night he phoned Beth-Anne and begged her to help him, he'd never been so terrified and desperate in his life. He was afraid to be alone because he didn't trust himself not to do something irredeemable.

His mental state has improved since then, but he's still scared. Being with someone feels much safer to him than being left by himself, and being with Beth-Anne feels safest of all. She always takes care of him, and he trusts her more than anyone else.

He thinks she's also right that having something to do will keep him from ruminating on stuff, as she put it. He and Beth-Anne both know what she meant by that. She didn't need to elaborate, and he's thankful to her for leaving it at a generalization.

But... coaching?

He has no clue how the other students might take to him becoming a coach. The younger ones who don't know him might not have any issues with it, but he doubts Brett and Mariah would be thrilled by the prospect. And what about Ginger, Hunter, Juliet and Christian? How would his friends feel about it? Would it be weird for them to see their fellow student become a coach? And what if he actually does turn out to be terrible at it? What then?

Beth-Anne's voice breaks into his thoughts. "Nikolai."

He stares at her, but doesn't reply because he realizes he has a piece of orange in his mouth. Inexplicably, his heartbeat begins to race and his hands tremble uncontrollably. He feels sweat break out on his palms and down the middle of his back.

Why am I panicking? Why am I panicking!? Calm down!

His self-admonition only makes it worse, and the orange section seems to grow huge and suffocating. He wants to spit it out, but his mental image of himself spitting out food in front of Beth-Anne is mortifying to him.

"Nikolai," Beth-Anne says gently. "Chew and swallow."

Her voice anchors him. He does as she instructs, and then mumbles, "Sorry."

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're fine," she assures him. "If you don't want to go to the rink, you don't have to. I can drop you off to spend the day with your grandfather instead, or wherever you want."

"No, I... I want to go to the rink. I'm just... I don't know. Anxious."

"You can take the medication the doctor gave you," she reminds him.

"No," he repeats. "I need to get over this. Get back to normal. Going to the rink is a good idea. Even if I don't stay all day, I think I need to get out of the house and do something before just leaving the house starts to seem like it's too hard."

Beth-Anne nods. "Good. That's the attitude I like. Come with me for the morning, and we'll see how you get along, okay? If you're feeling overwhelmed or like you don't want to stay for whatever reason, I'll bring you home. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," he agrees.

"I'll keep checking on you," she says.

It's his turn to nod. "I'll do my best to keep it together."

"I know you will, but I don't want you to push yourself any further than you can reasonably handle, all right? The point of this is to rebuild you, not to break you even more, so if you feel like you can't do it, you need to tell me straight away. Understand?"

'I understand."

"Excellent. Now, eat up so we'll have enough time to get ready. Our first thing is a group class at nine o'clock, and we wouldn't want to be late for those adorable preschoolers, would we?"

"You...? Preschoolers? You want me to observe preschoolers?"

"Best way to start the day," says Beth-Anne. "Watching a bunch of cute four year olds wobble around for half an hour is an amazing stress reliever. We can watch Ginger and Stan do their thing after that, and then Brett's ice time is at eleven. That'll be your real assignment. You know, 'your mission, should you choose to accept it' and all that."

"Okay," Nikolai says, doing his best to sound more sure of himself than he feels. "Mission accepted."

[ink-and-dagger]

Hiii inky, this is for the directors cut ^^

I’ve always been curious; during the time astrid was fired from the last drop, did jinx say to silco while he was in heartbreak? Did she try to comfort him? Did Sevika comment on anything? We’re there any other characters that witnessed him a miserable mess? lol

Oh and I almost forgot:

GET BACK HERE AND FINISH THAT KISS WITH TONGUE YOU COWARD

(Putting this art in my serotonin folder hehehehehhe thank you sweet one kissing you back real sloppy 😘😘❤️)

Oh you bet your ass a ton of stuff went down in Silco-land over those three months, and one of these days I will post the entire timeline I will goddammit. But for now I’ll shall answer your question and give you a glimpse into Silco’s misery…

Jinx

Silco’s fall out with Astrid definitely affected his relationship with Jinx for a while, with the first week or two being the worst. When Jinx wasn’t outright ghosting her dad, she was cold and distant with him. For a few days she even refused to help him with his eye treatment, until Sevika bribed her with coin. After that she reluctantly assisted in frosty silence.

It isn’t that Jinx couldn’t see how much he was hurting – it wasn’t even that she didn’t feel any compassion for his heartbreak – it’s simply that her anger with him was great enough to blot out everything else. To her mind, her family had been torn apart once again, bringing all sorts of painful memories to the surface. Only this time she wasn’t the one ‘at fault’. And because Silco is maaaaaybe a teensy bit of an enabler when it comes to Jinx, her only real frame of reference for how to treat someone at fault was the way she was treated by Milo and to some extent Vi. So she defaulted to that.

However, after the first failed assassination attempt of this time period Jinx did go to him to check on his welfare (even though she acted very aloof and teenage about it). At this point Silco did at least manage to initiate a discussion with her about what happened, and although she remained displeased with him, they did manage to agree to a shakey truce.

Silco never held Jinx’s feelings against her, even though he was going through a lot of pain of his own he always remained patient and lenient. And when she gradually began to warm up to his company again, he didn’t make a big to-do; just quietly accepted the love and affection he was given, and reciprocated it unconditionally, without any need for apology or explanation.

Not to say it was smooth sailing between them from there on out. Whilst Jinx did try to comfort him in her own way, she also often attempted to convince him to make things right with Astrid. Silco was always quick to shut these conversations down; gently but firmly. Jinx even tried to orchestrate a couple of ‘accidental meet ups’ between Silco and Astrid, although neither of these was successful. In fact, the second attempt went so badly wrong that it led to a big fall out between himself and Jinx; which sent the teenager spiralling similarly to how she did at the start of chapter 12.

It was this breakdown (paired with a well timed dream) that prompted Silco to finally seek Astrid out.

Sevika

Sevika commented on the whole Silco x Astrid breakup situation exactly two times during those three months (and neither of those times was particularly because she had much choice in the matter).

The first occurrence was the second Friday after Astrid was fired.

For months, the unspoken rule amongst Silco’s staff had been that Friday nights were off-limits; The Eye of Zaun was not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary, and even then only Sevika truly had the guts and authority to do the disturbing. After news arrived that one of their topside agents had gotten themselves arrested, Sevika had gone up to his office to find him… not there. He hadn’t been in his bedroom either. But a quiet bump from his en-suite had prompted her to check the darkened bathroom. Sevika found the Eye of Zaun, absolutely plastered (like, one drink away from blacking out) laying in the empty bathtub, fully-dressed (though extremely rumpled), clutching a near empty bottle of bourbon.

She lost a bit of respect for him that night.

Still, their history runs deep, and despite his vicious protestations Sevika managed to haul Silco out of the tub.

“Get up.”

“Get out.”

“No. Lay s’much asa fimger on me an’ I’ll havey’u dead. I’ll fucking— Don’t— You’re fired.”

“Been chucking that phrase around a lot lately, haven’t you.”

He went quiet after that clap-back.

She managed to get him onto the bed and into a comfortable enough position to sleep off the booze and not choke on any that found its way back up. She’d intended to just leave it at that, but found herself speaking halfway out the door.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between the two of you. But what happened tonight cannot happen again. If you crumble, then so does the city, and I won’t let it happen. Zaun is my first priority. Not you.”

<long pause>

[quietly] “I understan’. G’dnigh, Sevika.”

“Night. Silco.”

To his credit, it didn’t happen again.

The second time Sevika comments on the whole thing I’ll reveal in more detail when I finally release my timeline of events. But what I will tell you now is that it occurred a couple of weeks after she and Astrid went for drinks (so about a month and a half into their 3 month separation) and involves a nightmare, a business meeting, and a pretty brothel boy.

Misc

Silco is highly adroit at concealing his hand. At appearing cold and uncaring. But the more attentive members of his team will have noticed a few changes in the man, even if they didn’t know the cause nor reason behind it:

During those three months Silco was quicker to anger. Not only that, but where his wrath had previously been icy, controlled, and calculated, it was now more akin to a hot flash in the pan. Hearing the raised voice of the Eye of Zaun suddenly wasn’t such a rarity anymore.

Silco’s work ethic increased from obsessive to dangerous. He’d work for days on end without rest; only stopping when he literally passed-out from exhaustion at his desk, and then picking up right where he left off the instant he came-to. He survived primarily on a diet of whiskey and cigars, and only ate when Sevika forced him to. Within weeks of Astrid’s departure, Max was commissioned to craft a pair of suspenders to be worn beneath Silco’s waistcoat, because his trousers no longer fit.

Silco’s routine became erratic, and would flip on a dime. There were some weeks where it felt as though he never once set foot inside the drop, and other weeks where he holed up in his office like a hermit. Towards the end of those three months it was very much the latter – though that could be attributed to the sudden rise in assassination attempts.

His usually razor sharp mind appeared at times… dulled. It took him longer to construct those careful, trademark responses, and even in silence he didn’t always seem 100% present.

He refused to hire a replacement barkeep. His excuse being that budget didn’t allow for a new hire after the losses of the blackout riot.

Anyway there you have it! I hope that answered your question and gave you a bit more insight into Silco’s life during that three month separation. But there’s definitely a lot more to tell there, and I’m politely asking my brain to pull itself together enough to tell you all about it 🥲💜

[rigginsstreet]

Ok what if there’s an annual rave at the warehouse billy got possessed in. Like after starcourt and half the town dying everything settles and the teens/young adults left decide to start partying there as like a celebration of life/memorial/some people just have no tact and wanna go there out of morbid curiosity because rumors were circulating and weird shit going down (no one knows the truth about billy but a lore has begun to spread around town)

So anyway at first the gang all thinks it’s kinda in poor taste that such an event occurs but billy really leads the charge, to everyone’s surprise, in saying it’s kinda a genius idea and why should they sit around being miserable the rest of their lives about this thing when they can reclaim it and have some fun

So he talks steve into going, says it’ll be a good place for them to have a public date cuz everyone’s gonna be off their asses on drugs anyway and it’ll be dark and packed and they can get away with a lot. Robin joins in, Nancy and Jonathan more reluctantly but eventually they come around. Max definitely sneaks along with Lucas and el even tho billy told her a hundred times a rave is no place for her but she’s 16 now billy! She’s practically an adult!

So anyway the gangs all there and at first it’s going great. Everyone’s partying and drinking and dancing, having a good time. Billy and Steve get to dance closer than usual and be more affectionate and it’s nice.

Billy manages to snag some lsd and he’s all excited about sharing it with Steve, talking about how great the joint trip is gonna be… except billy doesn’t account for the fact he’s still dealing with lingering ptsd, and one minute he’s dancing with his boyfriend having the time of his life, the next minute he’s seeing visions of heather out of the corner of his eye, looks haggard and sweaty and pale like she did at the end… and then he starts hearing the same scurrying he heard the night he was taken… starts seeing the rats running around and can feel something grabbing him, trying to take him away, and then he’s on the floor, yelling and screaming in the middle of the crowd and Steve’s right there trying to get him under control and robin and Nancy and Jonathan run over to help, max emerges somewhere out of the crowd with el and Lucas in tow as she pushes her way next to Steve, panicking because billy hasn’t had a panic attack this bad in so long but she’s yelling at Lucas to go find water while the others are getting everyone to back away and give billy space, and Steve’s picking him up and taking him outside for fresh air and the whole time billys just crying and trying to catch his breath while steve does his best to get him back to reality which is really hard considering he is also high as a kite. Ends up being Nancy who does most of the heavy lifting as the most sober person there

And billy just keeps repeating he’s sorry and it’s not his fault like he did in the sauna while max is bringing water to his lips and telling him it’s ok, she knows, they’re not there anymore it’s over. And Steve’s holding his hand and just trying to get him to focus on him and come back down

And when it’s all said and done Nancy drives them back to Steve’s place, steve in the back seat with billy pressed to his side, exhausted, passed out on his shoulder. Everyone in silent agreement that drugs and billy no longer mix and they will not be attending anymore raves in the future