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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Note

Hey I just found you recently and I fell in love with way you write!! I wanted ask for something with Sebastian. Him asking the reader to the Yule ball, then going to the Yule ball together, maybe theyre friends with some secret pining in the picture too. Idk know, maybe him confessing. I just want romantic idiots in love kind of stuff. Thank you!!

The Northcott System

{Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Garreth Weasley has asked the infamous Eric Northcott for dating advice. In order to seem more desirable to you, he needs to play mind games. So instead of asking you to the ball, he asks Nellie Oggspire. This is where he pulls in Sebastian Sallow for help with his plan. Garreth knows he doesn’t have feelings for you, so it would be harmless for him to take you to the ball, right? Unfortunately, shoving you and Sebastian together in this way backfires. And Sebastian becomes just as head over heels for you as Garreth is.

Word Count: ~ 5,700 words

Warnings: Kissing, Some Underage Drinking

Author’s Note: Man... I am ALL FOR YULE BALL ONESHOTS! Lol ramielll, I can’t thank you enough for the request.❤ Romantic high school idiots in love kind of stuff is my shit! I think it's so much fun to write. It’s so awkward and lovey dovey, I adore it. I feel so bad making Garreth the sucker in these Sebastian stories but he fits too well 😭 I need to make more Garreth stories to make up for it, he doesn’t deserve this. Fun fact, Eric Northcott’s advice in this came from my father-in-law. My husband is very lucky he didn’t pull that shit or I would have been long gone lmfaooo (The title is in reference to Sunny in Philadelphia’s D.E.N.N.I.S. System, you’re a real one if you caught it 😉.)

Songs (if interested):

Evergreen - Richy Mitch & The Coal Miners

drift/(:( - Alek Olsen

Butterflies (feat. AURORA) - Tom Odell

The Kiss - Trevor Jones

The Reason - Hoobastank

“Eric Northcott says the best way to get someone obsessed with you is to treat them like royalty, then ignore them for a few weeks.” Garreth Weasley told his group of friends in the hall.

“You took dating advice from Eric Northcott?” Ominis asked in disbelief.

“Of course I did.” Garreth responded proudly, as if he were the smartest person in the world to have done so.

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“Don’t even pretend you haven’t heard about all the dates he’s pulled, Ominis.”

“Oh I’ve heard. Doesn’t sound like he’s been able to keep any of them though.”

“He’s a free man, Ominis. He just doesn’t want to be held down.”

Sebastian was half paying attention to the conversation around him. He knew it was related to the upcoming ball, but that’s all. He was looking over his notes on the recent restricted section find of his. It was too big and bulky of a book to carry around everywhere he went, so he had jotted down all he could to read over throughout the day.

“But this is why I need you, Sebastian.”

“Hmm?” Sebastian glanced up at Garreth.

“I know you haven’t spoken much, maybe not even at all for all I know. But I need you to take the new fifth year to the ball.”

Sebastian raised a questioning brow at him. “Why?”

It took way too much effort for Sebastian to try and follow Garreth’s plan. Garreth was going to take Nellie Oggspire to the ball, so he wanted Sebastian to take you to ensure no one with ulterior motives did. According to dating expert, Eric Northcott, you would be riddled with jealousy seeing Garreth with someone else. Then the day after the ball, he’d go up to you and confess his feelings. After seeing how he had other options, he’d be all the more desirable and you’d be over the moon to be chosen by him.

Sebastian felt like the plan was missing a few steps, or maybe had too many wrong ones to begin with. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to - oh, I don’t know - just go with the person you like to begin with?” He tried not to sound smart, but of course he sounded smart.

“It’s genius, Sebastian. You just don’t get it.”

“Evidently not.” He exhaled, looking back to his notes. But, now that he thought about it, he did need a date. He’d had tunnel vision on research for Anne’s curse, the ball had snuck up on him. There wasn’t anyone else who had popped up in his head to ask either. He had been a bit too preoccupied for anyone to catch his eye in that way.

He thought back to every interaction he’d had with you, which wasn’t many. You had held your own against him well enough while dueling in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but he couldn’t know for sure how good you were. He had held back greatly considering you had just learned levioso and you were using a second hand wand. The only other time he could remember was when you two were partnered in potions class. There wasn’t a whole lot of getting to know each other then either. Still being so new to the magic world, you asked him endless questions about that day’s brew. He thought it a fine quality for someone to have, eager to learn rather than quick to dismiss what you didn’t understand. You were pretty easy on the eyes too.

Sebastian rubbed at his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “Alright, Weasley. I don’t get this plan but I’ll do it. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Sebastian closed up his notes. “I’m off to get a date to the ball apparently.”

How could I be so stupid to think Garreth liked me in that way? You inwardly chided yourself. The sting of finding out he had asked Nellie Oggspire to the ball still hadn’t dissipated. The way he had treated you so kindly lately had you certain he was going to ask you to the ball. But not only did he ask someone else, he had noticeably distanced himself from you out of nowhere. You weren’t sure what you did that seemed to upset him, but you didn’t have the time to chase after him and find out. You were already behind enough as it was, maybe the space between you two would help you catch up and get focused.

You hummed a song as you tended to the carnivorous plants in the greenhouse. You usually would have the energy to at least lightly sing some of the words for them, knowing they enjoyed music. But today, you didn’t have the gusto.

The greenhouse door opening and shutting pulled your attention and your humming ceased. You peeked over your shoulder. “Hello, Sebastian. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” He answered as he made his way over, becoming suddenly nervous. He realized he didn’t have a plan on what to say as soon as he was alone with you.

Just as you were about to bring your focus back to the plants, you remembered you had wanted to speak with him. “Oh! I’m glad you’re here, I've been thinking about you recently.”

He stopped in his tracks and a blush crept up his neck. You’ve been thinking of me? “Oh?” Was all he could get himself to say.

“Yes.” You nodded enthusiastically, setting down your gardening tools and walking up to him. You brought yourself close and it put him on edge a bit. Keeping your voice low, you asked, “Do you think you could help me get into the uh -” You glanced at the door making sure it was closed all the way, “restricted section sometime soon?”

“Huh.” He didn’t know what he expected you to say to him, but it certainly wasn’t that. He was taken aback by your request, but, even more so, he was intrigued. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Seems I’ve got a reputation if even you’ve heard about my excursions. Whatever for, may I ask?”

“A book on ancient magic, that’s all I know unfortunately. Have you come across any such thing? Do you know where it would be down there?”

Now you had really piqued his interest. He had been trying to look into ancient magic himself lately for Anne. “Hmm. I’ve come across some passages here and there. But I don’t recall seeing any books solely on ancient magic.”

“Ah.” You said, disappointed.

“But another trip to look wouldn’t hurt.” He said quickly. “No matter how much Madam Scribner disagrees. I can get you down there this weekend.”

Your eyes lit up. “Will you? Oh thank you, Sebastian. You have no idea how much you’d be helping me out, you’d be my hero for this.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, getting a little bashful at the thought of being ‘your hero’, even just a small one that helped you find a book. “Don’t mention it.”

“No seriously, thank you. I’m sorry I have to drag you into helping me at all.” You exhaled, frustrated. “I mean what even is the point of a restricted section? You’d think a proper magical education would include all magic, none of this some are fine, some are off limits nonsense.”

His eyes widened a bit, words seeming to evade him. Seems a kindred spirit may have been closer than he realized.

“Look at me rambling on, now I’m just venting.” You shook your head. “I distracted you from what you needed to do in here, I apologize. I’ll let you get to it.” You went to return to the plants but Sebastian grabbed at your wrist to stop you.

“I came here to find you actually.” You faced him again and he cleared his throat, releasing you. “Garreth told me you’d be in here.”

You tried not to look bitter at the mention of Garreth. “What can I do for you?”

How does one go about asking another to a ball? Especially when it wasn’t his idea. He at least knew it wouldn't be very endearing to mention that part. Maybe he didn’t need to overcomplicate it. Just get the basic idea out, then embellish if asked anything further. “The upcoming ball. Would you like to go with me?”

The surprise was clear as day on your face, but it was a pleasant surprise, Sebastian was relieved to note. Was he holding his breath?

Sebastian Sallow was asking you to the ball? You weren’t against the idea, not at all. Sebastian Sallow of all people, who would have thought? The two of you had never really spoken, to be honest you didn’t think he knew your name.

“Y - Yes, I would actually.” You smiled at him, looking genuinely glad he asked you.

He huffed out a breathy laugh and began to feel giddy. Calm down, Sallow. It’s not like this is someone you’ve been pining for. He tried to inwardly deflate himself. This was the first real conversation he’d had with you, how could he possibly feel so elated to you saying ‘yes’ to him? Just happy to have a date to the ball, that must be it.

“That’s -” He cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “That’s all I needed, I suppose. So, I’ll be off.” He said, staying in place and shifting on his feet. He didn’t want to leave the greenhouse, he realized. “See you this weekend?”

You nodded your head, a smile still gracing your lips. “You will.”

Sebastian returned your smile, then went to leave. When he opened the door, he took one last glance at you before he stepped out. His stomach jumped seeing you still looking at him, a little thrilled you were staring after him. He wanted to say something more, but couldn’t think of anything quick enough. He gave a small bow of his head in goodbye, then left the greenhouse.

Was it supposed to be this thrilling when a boy you barely spoke to asked you to a ball?

Sebastian rubbed at his jaw as he made his way out of the herbology wing, his face was starting to hurt from grinning so hard. He was thinking he should write down a list of all the books he’d come across that mentioned ancient magic for you. Just in case you were interested.

He was so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed Garreth watch him leave the greenhouse and walk up behind him.

“How did it go? Is the plan on?” Garreth asked, breaking Sebastian from his thoughts.

Oh right, the plan. Sebastian thought it was more idiotic by the second, but it got him a date with someone he hadn’t realized he had some things in common with, so it couldn’t be that bad. He stopped walking and faced Garreth, glancing over the red head’s shoulder to make sure you weren’t coming out of the greenhouse. “Sure, it’s on. What now?”

“Brilliant.” Garreth was ecstatic. “Now all I have to do is keep my distance until the ball’s over.”

Sebastian seemed to like the sound of that. “Uh - right. Good thinking. Well, best be off.” Sebastian turned to make his way to his dorm, keen on getting that book list started for you.

“You’re a real one for this, Seb!” Garreth called after him.

Without looking back, Sebastian gave him a thumbs up.

Would he look overeager having brought the list of books and this enchanted bag? Merlin, he hoped not. He was already waiting for you outside the library, a little too late to have that regret.

He pushed up off the wall he was leaning against when he saw you approach. “You’re here.” He said, as if he were a little shocked you were actually going through with this.

“Don’t look so surprised.” You spoke in a hushed tone and smirked. “What’s that you’ve got there?” You asked, looking down at the bag and parchment in his hands.

“Oh, it’s - I was thinking - In case you wanted to take any more books that mention ancient magic while we’re down there, you could put them in here. It’s an enchanted bag that can fit just about anything.”

Your eyes widened, it was very thoughtful of him to go out of his way for you like that. “You’re joking. You didn’t have to do this.” You went up and took the items from him, looking over the list and taking a peek inside the bag.

You were right. He didn’t have to. But for whatever reason, he really wanted to. Why did I want to?

“I usually bring one anyway. It was no trouble.” The first part was a lie. “Now, do you know the disillusionment spell?”

It was way too late in the night when Sebastian returned to his dorm room. But he wasn’t tired, not at all, not after what you and him had just gone through to get that book.

After kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his robes, he slid into bed easily. He folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling, already nostalgic for the night he just had with you.

You were… Wow, you were something. Sneaking into the restricted section with you was already riveting. Going through all the books on that list he made and glancing over them together had stirred him. You two stood close while he pointed out the relevant passages he had found, and you listened attentively, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. But when you two had found that ancient magic vault, he was done for. What an adventure that was!

He had so many emotions about it all. Discovering that ancient magic still existed had him ecstatic, he knew there were untouched areas of magic to explore further for Anne. And watching you wield it as if you had done so your whole life had him overwhelmed with hope, hope he was sure his uncle was nearly successful in getting rid of. And to top it off, exploring that vault and fighting giant guardian statues alongside you was… Wow! It was the first time he’d felt so alive since Anne got cursed.

How could someone like you have been under his nose this whole time? He thought back to when you were partnered in potions class, had he really been so blind even then? He couldn’t be wasting any more time. He only had a few weeks until the ball and Garreth would be pulling all the stops to make you his.

Sebastian sneaked glances at you during breakfast. You seemed to be busy finishing up some last minute homework, every now and then taking a bite of your toast. Had you always made simple acts look this endearing? Even the face you made while you fixated on your homework had his insides warming like a first year with a crush.

Your gaze lifted from your writing to look around the dining hall in thought. Your eyes landed on him, and he immediately wanted to die, embarrassed he got caught staring. But then you smiled at him, and he didn’t want to die anymore. He smiled back and you went back to your homework.

Gathering your belongings, you got up from your seat and made your way over to him. He got antsy as he watched you approach, but he was able to keep an air of calm.

“Sebastian, could I steal you for a moment?” You asked in a hushed tone.

“Of course.” Stop sounding so eager, you buffoon. He got up and followed you until you were just out of hearing distance from everyone else.

“I got a lead on where the book’s missing pages are. And I um - Well, I -”

Sebastian eyed you as you started shuffling your feet. Are you nervous?

“I was wondering - you know, since we worked so well together getting the book - if you’d like to come with me to get them? No need to feel like you have to! I just thought -”

“Absolutely, I’m coming with you.” He found himself saying.

An ecstatic look formed on your features, but you tried to bite it back. “Great, I’ll meet you after dinner tonight.”

Sebastian gave you a nod, trying to hold back an enthusiasm of his own.

You held your books closer to you as you started to take your leave, but you stopped suddenly, remembering something. “Oh, Sebastian. Before I forget.” You had his full attention again as you dug around in your robes pocket. “Ah, here it is.” You held out a shrivelfig to him, giving him a look of go on, take it.

He took it gingerly from your hand and looked at you, bewildered.

“You mentioned you spent the last of your money on a shrivelfig to try out for Anne, but your uncle destroyed it.”

Sebastian lifted his brows, amazed you had remembered such a thing. “Thank you.” He said, meaning it more than you knew.

“It’s the least I can do for all your help.” You waved him off. “I’ve been growing some anyway, and I’ve got more on the way if you ever need.” You were getting jumpier by the second and knew you had to get out of there before you made an idiot of yourself. “See you tonight.”

He was about to speak but you rushed off before he could get anything out. He looked down at the shrivelfig and turned it in his hand. You’d only been speaking a few days, and he already had it bad for you.

All too soon, it was the night of the ball, the last night he’d have with you before Garreth’s plan came to an end and he’d try to make you his. He wanted to enjoy it. He wondered if he should confront Weasley, but what would the point be if you didn’t have feelings for him any way? You and Garreth had been close for a majority of the year, while you and Sebastian only had these last few weeks together… these wondrous, extraordinary, marvelous few weeks.

He leaned up against the wall with his hands in his pockets as he waited. Nellie Oggspire had just walked down the steps and linked arms with Garreth. The red head gave him a knowing nod of his head as he passed, and Sebastian nodded back, trying not to tip him off that anything was amiss.

He glanced back up at the stairs to see if the person who just arrived was you. He saw it wasn’t and looked back down. Wait, yes it is! He shot up off the wall and stood up straight. He hardly recognized you, you cleaned up so wonderfully. He found you plenty attractive in your day-to-day getups already, yet you still managed to bring yourself up another level? Your smile at him as you walked down the steps was a spell in its own right. That’s not fair. He wanted to whine.

He met you at the bottom of the stairs, holding out his hand for you to take as you walked down the last few steps. He kept his eyes on yours as he kissed your knuckles. The feel of his lips on your skin had you weak, thankfully he held out his arm for you to take. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind if you leaned on him a bit.

The two of you looked out to the great hall, admiring how everything had been redone for the ball. Sebastian caught sight of Garreth gawking at you like he was in pain. Pushing Garreth to the back of his mind, he glanced back at you and was relieved you didn’t seem to notice the green eyed boy.

He cleared his throat, trying to forget Weasley existed. “Would you like to dance?”

“Yes, please.” You smiled sweetly. Dancing was the best next step. Your nerves were wild within you holding onto Sebastian like this, no way you would have been able to keep still.

He guided you to the dance floor and twirled you before bringing you into the proper waltz stance, just as you hoped he would. You looked up at him, holding each other a bit closer than what was probably appropriate for a school dance, and wondered how you two could possibly be so in sync after only a few weeks of getting to know each other.

You had never thought yourself to be a great dancer. But somehow, with Sebastian in the lead, you felt as if you had suddenly become an expert. It must have been all the dueling the two of you had done together, that was practically a dance in and of itself. Being constantly aware of where the other was at all times, covering each other’s blind spots, not allowing one misstep to let the other get a scratch on them.

Neither of you had any idea how many songs you danced through. If you had the stamina, you two remained on the dance floor. Sebastian couldn’t recall ever liking dancing this much, couldn’t recall ever liking it in the slightest. But you seemed to bring it out of him, he wasn’t complaining.

It wasn’t until Sebastian started to overheat in his coat that he realized how long the two of you had been going. “I don’t want to stop but I need to take this off.” He huffed with a laugh, slowing the two of you down to a stop. He hated that he had to throw off the momentum at all.

“It’s alright.” You panted. “I need to run to the washroom anyway. Grab us some drinks for when I’m back!” You called to him as you sped off, wanting to return as soon as possible.

Garreth caught Sebastian’s dreamy stare as he watched you walk off. He excused himself from Nellie to get drinks at the same time as him.

Sebastian didn’t seem to notice Garreth approach, too caught up in getting a glass for you and him, a pleased smile on his face. Garreth cleared his throat to grab his attention and Sebastian’s gaze shot up, his smile faltering. “Evening.” Garreth said, eyeing him.

“Evening.” Sebastian replied innocently, hoping that was the end of it. With drinks in hand, he went and found the table with your names on it. Garreth, forgetting drinks for him and Nellie, followed close in pursuit. Once he set down your glasses, Sebastian shrugged off his jacket then placed it on the back of the chair. All the while, wishing Garreth would take a hint and sod off.

“Look Sallow. I’m grateful you’re helping me out, but could you tone it down a bit? You two uh… really seem to be enjoying yourselves.” He glanced at the entrance to make sure you weren’t coming back yet, then turned back to Sebastian. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to make a move.” Garreth chuckled amicably, but Sebastian could still hear the warning in it.

“Garreth, relax. It's all a part of the plan.” He’d say anything to keep Garreth away from you that night. “Don’t wuss out now and ruin all your progress. Now off you go, back to Nellie, distance makes the heart grow fonder and such.” He shooed.

Garreth gave him one last uneasy glance, then went on his way.

Sebastian sat himself down while he waited for you. Catching his breath and trying to recover so he’d be ready to dance again when you returned. He looked up towards the entrance and locked eyes with you as you made your way back. You smiled at each other, both thankful there was still plenty of the night left to go.

Ominis put his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, giving a quick whistle to grab his attention. Sebastian glanced up then down at the flask he was expertly sneaking to him.

“Ominis, you bad bad boy.” Sebastian laughed. Looking back at you, he smoothly took it from him. He hid it in his lap as you arrived and slid into the seat next to him. He realized then, he wouldn’t have any if you didn’t.

“You better give me some of that.”

He also realized he’d gladly share. Sebastian was slightly aroused at seeing this misbehaving side of yours, how sly you were when holding your glass under the table for him to pour some of the flask in. He then swiftly poured some into his glass under the table as well, then put the cap back on to give back to Ominis.

“If anyone suspects anything, you and I had a fight and didn’t speak to each other at all tonight.” Ominis slid the flask back into his coat and left to join Isaac Cooper’s side.

“Bet I can get it down smoother than you can.” You teased, holding up your glass to cheers with his.

“Can you now?” Sebastian brought up his glass, clinking it with yours. You linked your arm with his and then brought the glass to your lips. He did the same, and you two chugged, keeping your eyes locked.

The both of you handled it about the same, faces only contorting marginally at the dreadful taste. It wasn’t much, but downing it as you both had could get you a slight buzz.

“Do this often, do you?” You and Sebastian released each other, setting down your glasses and standing.

“I had a life before Hogwarts, believe it or not.” You chuckled as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back out towards the dance floor.

The musicians shifted the tone from elegant waltzing music to exhilarant jig music, a vocalist joining in to sing some well known shanties. You and Sebastian joined in the crowd of students, singing and swaying along.

With the buzz still warm on your cheeks as you stood side by side in the crowd, he threw an arm around you. You gladly wrapped an arm around him as well, reaching your other hand up to hold onto his on your shoulder. This was one of the greatest nights of his life.

Both you and Sebastian were exhausted. Try as you might, you couldn’t stay any longer. You were both worn thin, your night had been incredible.

“Ow.” You whined groggily, resting a hand on the nearest wall.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian shrugged on his coat then put a hand on your shoulder, looking you up and down in concern.

“My shoes are brand new and I didn’t break them in before tonight. My feet are killing me.” You laughed.

A smirk formed on his face as an idea popped in his head. He moved in front of you and bent his knees slightly. He gestured with his head towards his back. “Up you go.” He said.

Your eyes widened slightly as you stared at him, amused. Then, without another word, you hopped on his back, wrapping your arms and legs around him.

“Where to?” He asked as he gripped your thighs and walked on easily.

Holding on tight, you remembered you had a few magical beasts to feed and brush before bed.

As Sebastian carried you to the room of requirement, he was feeling bubble headed in the best way. He hitched you up higher, more out of his bustling nerves than feeling like he didn’t have a good enough hold on you. You rested your cheek against the side of his head, and he didn’t care if you could feel his cheeky grin about it or not.

The two of you arrived all too soon even though you took the long way, avoiding taking any floos. Sebastian was beyond disappointed the door didn’t show up, he was hoping this time would be different when you said it never showed up when someone else was with you. He may not have known exactly what the two of you would do in there, but you would be alone, with no chance of anyone else bothering you. A big part of it would have been validation he wasn’t just anyone you’d brought around. He wanted to be someone special, the only one the room felt worthy to let in with you.

“I suppose this is where I leave you.” He began sheepishly, letting you down gently from his back. You looked delightedly at one another and he ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I had a really great time tonight.”

Your insides went into a tizzy. “Me too.” You beamed at him. You didn’t want to end this night or part ways with him. “So I uh - I know it’s late, are you sure you still want to help me tomorrow morning? I understand if you’d rather sleep in.” You didn’t doubt he would come with you the next day, you just wanted to hear him tell you he wouldn’t miss it.

“Of course I’m sure. I’ll be there.” He unknowingly took a step towards you, the two of you drifting closer without thinking.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling like a dope. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

You two stood in coy silence for a moment, wanting the other to say something, anything to keep your night going a bit longer. “Well, I should get going so the room can appear for you, shouldn’t I?” He chuckled awkwardly, still not making any sort of move to take his leave.

“Ah, right.” You nodded your head, glancing briefly at the wall then looking back at him. You went in to hug him goodbye and he didn’t hesitate to hug you back. You held each other firmly in each other’s arms for a few seconds, then let go, smiles still painfully plastered on your faces. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You told him.

“Bright and early.” He assured.

“Bright and early.” You repeated, no longer caring if you looked like a flushing mess. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The two of you looked at each other for another moment, staying in place and becoming jumpy. You both went in for another hug, holding each other closer and longer this time, letting each other’s warmth envelope you. He took in your scent as you nuzzled your face against his neck.

“Goodnight.” He said again in a whisper.

You released each other, your faces temptingly close for a brief moment until you stepped back. He remained facing you as he started taking small, reluctant steps backwards to leave.

He watched as the smile faded from your face and you eyed him as if you were dispirited he was leaving. He stopped in his tracks, and a starved look took over your features. He was sure his face was doing the exact same thing.

You launched at one another, fusing your lips together. It was such a dizzying collision, the two of you weren’t really aware of where your hands were. The only thing that was clear was that they were on each other, holding the other close while roaming all over. Somehow, Sebastian had gotten you pressed up against the wall. He needed help keeping upright while his mouth moved in earnest, gasping and sighing along with yours.

Sebastian Sallow’s weight against you was something you never knew you needed. You bit at his bottom lip and sucked, hoping that would keep him anchored to you. A deep, muffled “mmh” noise escaped him and it was the most intoxicating sound.

He pulled back slightly to look at you then, eyes going over your features as he caught his breath. He couldn’t help but drag his fingers lightly down your cheek as you looked back at him, just as breathless.

He returned his lips to yours, taking it sweet and slow then. This time, he didn’t want to be dizzy, he wanted to be sturdy and in his right mind tasting you. Your hands felt so soft as they cupped his neck. A tingling sensation went down his spine when they slowly slid up to the back of his head, fingers running through his hair.

You were so lost in one another, that if anyone were to walk by you’d have no idea, no sense to pull away anyway.

Sebastian walked down to the Slytherin common room in a whimsical haze, humming each one of the songs he danced with you to that night. His lips felt swollen from all your kisses, it was wonderful.

His dreamy state came to an abrupt end when he found Garreth pacing frantically in front of the Slytherin Common room. The red head looked up at his arrival and his eyes went wide.

“There you are!” Garreth strode up to him and Sebastian got in a readied stance with his feet. “Where were you?! I saw you two leave and the way you were looking at each other all night and - Oh please tell me you didn’t do anything.”

Sebastian avoided his gaze. He didn’t feel for a second that Garreth should be with you instead, but damn him if he didn’t feel a little sorry for the poor fool.

“Sallow?” Garreth felt like he was going to be sick, but he held out the tiniest bit of hope. If Sebastian said nothing happened between you two, he’d run with it and never look back.

Man up and tell it to him straight. Sebastian took a deep breath and lifted his chin, physically and mentally preparing to get punched, he’d let Weasley have that much. “We kissed. We’re going to start seeing each other.”

Garreth’s eyes went wild, and he let out an incredulous guffaw. “Are you now? Well that’s just brilliant, isn’t it?!” It wasn’t really directed at him, Sebastian noticed. Garreth began pacing back and forth, looking as if he was going mad. “Why in Merlin’s name did I listen to that knobhead?! Hey Northcott, did you know spending time with someone and treating them right works? Who would have guessed?!” He looked back at Sebastian then, he clenched his hand into a fist like he was going to deck him. “I ought to bash your face in, Sallow. But right now, I’m more itching to have a word with Northcott. Best watch your back, I’m not done with you.”

Sebastian released the breath he was holding as Garreth stormed off. He could take him in a duel no problem, but he’d better keep a close eye on his food and drinks for a while.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x gn reader #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x mc

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deansapplepie · 6 months

Text

Till THE DEAD do us part| Chapter 10

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Masterlist

Chapter 10: I’d carry it proudly

Summary: Y/N and Daryl get in the woods to practice some archery. Daryl gets to know more about Y/N, but she also wants to know about him. Things get heated between them.

Warning: light swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of psychological abuse, past trauma, mentions of pregnancy, Rick being an annoying big bro, make out session, smut, kisses, fingering, dry humping, Daryl’s almost a sex educator in this one. Minors do not interact. 18+ (Let me know if I forgot anything)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 7,961

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. ALSO, this is my first smut in English, so I hope it’s not too bad.

“Ready for yer crossbow lessons?” Daryl asked sitting by your side to have breakfast.

“I was born ready, babe.” You answered before shoving some eggs on your mouth. “But if I’m not good at it, the fault is gonna be on the teacher.”

“Let me guess, and if ya’re good is just ‘cause ya’re a pro on everything.” He answered, raising a brown and with a smirk on his face.

“Of course, I have my own merits.” You elbowed him playfully. “Where are we going to practice?”

“Thought ‘bout going into the woods and making some targets in different places and distances. Think it’ll be good to teach ya.” He said starting to eat.

“And how’s your wound? Do you think it’s safe to go?” You asked concern in your voice.

“It’s good, not as painful as befor’” he said, but he didn’t say it didn’t have pain at all. “ ‘sides that, we aren’t going on Nervous Nelly and I have ya to cover my back. I guess we’re jus’ fine.”

You finished eating and then went to prepare everything for leaving the farm to train, you changed your clothes and took your gun and knife to go. You left Luna with Carl and headed to Daryl’s camp, apparently he didn’t want to leave the place. He told you he didn’t want to be annoyed, you questioned how come you could be around and he didn’t had an answer he just grunted, or he didn’t had the courage to tell you he didn’t want you there too or you were the only one he tolerated.

He was ready and waiting for you when you arrived, after that you went in the direction of the woods, walking side by side. The weather was still a little bit warm, but it was starting to have a cold breeze, which means fall and winter were on their way. In the old world, you used to enjoy this seasons, but now you weren’t so sure about it, cause you didn’t know if you would have a roof to be when the really cold weather came.

“That day, did ya think I was going to beat Carol?” Daryl surprised you with a question, bringing you back from your thoughts.

“No, not at all. But I must confess you scared me a little. Beating women just doesn’t sounds like you. I’d never think that.” You said, your hand tentatively brushing on his while you two walked.

“Was… the bastard that hurt you like Ed?” Wow, you didn’t really see that coming. Did he thought your reaction had something to do with it? Did you look so angry that day that he thought it was related to past traumas? Well, maybe it was a little but either way, you think you’d not let he treat anyone that didn’t deserved like that, in the same way you’d not permit anyone to treat him like that.

“Not exactly…” You touched a tree while you were passing. “The psychological abuse? Yes, but he never laid a finger on me. The only time he tried was when we broke up, well, I broke up with him, but luck me we were at Rick’s for a family barbecue and Shane happened to be just passing by the living room. So you must imagine how it all ended.” You didn’t like to talk much about it, but with Daryl seemed just right… Like he’d not judge you or take the guys side how many misogynists men would do.

“I’m sure he deserved all the special treatment Shane gave him.” Even talking with you he observed everything around you, what made you impressed on how he could focus so perfectly on two things.

“You should see, he got worse than Ed.” You took a deep breath, you just wished you could forget everything about him, about that time and about all the words you used to hear from him.

“Nothing that he ever told ya is true.” He brushed his hand against your and caught your pinky on his.

“How could you know?” You observed the dried leaves you were stepping along the way.

“ ‘cause I know ya.” He simply said, for him it was enough and on his mind nothing would ever justify the abuse someone suffered, he could understand it better than anyone.

“He was a sick son of bitch.” You took a glance at your intertwined pinkies and couldn’t help but give a small smile.

“For sure, he had an incurable case of small dick.” You weren’t expecting this sassy remark, but stopping to think it really sounded like something Daryl would say. You couldn’t hold the laugh, he wasn’t completely wrong… Not that you had seen too many dicks in your life, Paul had been your first and only boyfriend being with him during the late high school years, college and a little bit after it, so his dick was the only one you had seen officially speaking, but you already watched porn and his were kind of small if you compared, not even medium to be honest. “By the laugh, I know I’m right.”

“Now, that you already made I confess my darkest secrets, I think it’s fair if you tell me something about you.” You said, you actually didn’t know what to ask, there was so many things you wanted to know about him, but you also didn’t want to pass the limits.

“I think it’s good here.” He stopped in front of a group of trees that conveniently were organized by mother nature transversally and would be perfect for the practice. “How about ya do yer best on our training and if ya do good, I answer whatever shit ya want to know.”

“Deal. Be prepared to answer me whatever I want.”

He got a hammer from his bag and some nails, with it he nailed four wood boards, one in which tree. He was really prepared for the lesson and got you impressed. After nailing the last wood board he came to you.

“First, let’s talk about position. Ya know how to shot a gun, a rifle too. It’s a bit similar.” He took his crossbow and handed it to you, then he positioned himself behind you. “Keep yer legs a bit apart from the other.” He signaled with his feet touching yours to show how it should be. “Now the posture, keep yer spine straight, shoulders to the back.” He placed a hand on your back and with the other hand he pushed one of your shoulders to show where it should be. His hands were so warm that you could feel it even with some layers of clothing. “Now, show me how ya hold a rifle.” You hold the crossbow just like if you were going to shoot a rifle. He covered your arms with his and put his hands on top of yours just positioning it a bit better. “Good, that’s it.” He said by your ear, his lips almost touching you, you could even feel his stubble, sending chills throughout all of your body. “Now if ya wanna have a good shot ya need to look here.” He pointed the middle of the weapon. “When ya see where ya wanna shoot, just press here. Just like a gun.”

“And now?” You asked, almost not breathing, aware of his presence and trying to remain like he said.

“Now you need to learn how to put an arrow in the bow.” He distanced himself from you and you almost cried for losing the contact.

“It can’t be hard, right?” You asked relaxing and pulling at the cord from the crossbow, it was very strong, you’d need to use some force to do it.

“If ya have strong arms it isn’t.” He said. “Gimme it here.”

He took the bow and showed you how you had to pull the cord and then the arrow. It looked so easy with him doing it, like it was nothing.

“Now, ya try.” He handed you the bow back.

You needed to use all your strength to do it, but you did and you didn’t complain in any moment even though you felt a light pain on your arm.

“Try to aim at the middle of the boards, the middle is the walker brain. Too much for the sides and it means the arrow missed.” He said, leaning on a tree that was behind you.

“Are you making unrealistic rules so I can’t ask you your deepest secrets later?” You questioned while positioning yourself to shoot for the first time.

“Nah, I just don’t want ya to be a shitty archer. Ya can thank me later.” He said unamused.

“Well, let’s start then.” It couldn’t be too different than a gun, right? He even said it himself.

You aimed at the first tree, the one that was closer. Daryl made the rule that you could just move to the others when you hit at least close to the middle of the board. You concentrated yourself, took a breath and shot it hitting the extreme left of the board, so the arrow fell a little after the tree. You huffed disappointed and went ahead to get the arrow back. When you turned back, you saw a smirk on Daryl’s face.

“What are you smirking about?” You asked him, you wanted to know what was so funny.

“Ya thought it would be super easy, didn’t ya?” He had a mocking smile on his lips and you wanted to punch him and at the same time kiss his handsome sexy lips.

“I didn’t. BUT I expected I would at least hit close since I aimed at the middle of the thing.” You protested, you were good at shooting and you knew it would take a lot of work from anyone that wanted to be an archer like Daryl.

You prepared the bow one more time to shoot again, honestly now you could get why Daryl’s arms were so muscular, pulling the cord everyday all day was a damn work out. You positioned yourself once again to aim at the target.

“I know ya said, ya didn’t like him like that. But, don’t ya think Shane like ya?” Daryl asked, trying to sound cool as it wasn’t a question running on his mind for a long period of time. First he had thought about it back at the quarry, while you two got close he would receive nasty looks from Shane, as if he hated him. Then he started to return the same looks, and still today he would receive the stares from Shane. When you told your story about your ex, he couldn’t help but question if Shane did what he did because you were like a little sister or because he liked you in a different way.

“Really? Now are you trying to make me lose my concentration?” You got out of position to look back at him.

“No, ya don’t have time to concentrate when there’s a walker coming. Go back to yer position, continue aiming at the target and answer ma question.” He answered gesturing with his hand for you to get back to the job.

“Bossy…” you murmured turning back to the target. “Now you owe me 2 questions.”

“Whatever.”

“No, he never looked at me like that, I guess.” You positioned your body in the correct way again. “I’m 6 years younger than them, or something like this, which means when they started to get into girls, I was still a kid. They babysat me and used the cute little sister card to impress the girls. So, nah.”

“But ya grew.” He gnawed his finger nervously praying that you didn’t look back. He listened to your heavy sigh, then you shot the target and were able to hit a little bit more on the inside, but still not close enough to the center.

“Well, in case you didn’t notice, he’s not exactly afraid of Rick. So if he wanted, he would have made a move.” You answered taking the arrow back from the board. “And, I’d have refused as I already told you before I never liked him like that.”

You were preparing once again the arrow to shoot, he said nothing. The same way he wished he should have kept his mouth shut back that day in the woods in the quarry. But once again he was relieved knowing not only you had no interest in Shane, but Shane had no interest in you.

“Is Daryl Dixon jealous?” You asked aiming at the target one more time and shoot hitting almost the middle of the target.

He took your success on hitting the target as an excuse to not answer your question, because he’d not admit he was indeed Jealous. “Congrats Pup, ya killed the walker. Now move to the next target.”

“And you are not answering my question.” You said while moving to be in front of the second target.

“I’ll answer when ya finish hitting the targets.” He answered grumpy as if he wasn’t the one making personal questions.

“You better do.” You said and shot an arrow on the second target.

You continued training with the bow, every time you changed for a target in a more distant tree it would get more difficult to hit the board and took more time from you to get close to the middle. From time to time Daryl would come to you and help to correct your posture. When you got to the last tree it was taking a little longer from you to hit the target, more because your arms were tired and sore from pulling the cord on the crossbow many times.

You had already lost count on how many shots you had on the fourth and last target. You could tell Daryl your arms were aching and that you wanted to stop, and you were sure he wouldn’t mind. But you didn’t want to give up and go back defeated, also you were expecting you could make some questions to him. There was so many things you wanted to know that you weren’t even sure what to ask. You decided to give yourself 5 chances to hit the board, if you didn’t succeed you’d give up and tell Daryl you’d try another day.

You shot one time, too high. Another one, too low. You tried a third time and it hit on the right side, not too distant from the border, but not exactly close to the middle. You took a deep breath, aimed at the target and shot hitting it almost in the middle. “YEAH!” You shouted jumping in excitement. “Did you see D.? I got it!”

You jumped at him letting the crossbow fall to the ground. You were so happy to achieve the goal that he couldn’t help but smile at you. When you threw yourself at him both of you lost the balance and fell to the ground, you on top of him. He let out a groan feeling pain in his still in recovery wound.

“Oh my gosh, D. I’m sorry. Are you ok?” You asked looking worriedly at him. “Let me check if the stitches are ok.”

He held your hand before you could put it under his shirt and lift it. “I’m ok. I don’t feel blood dripping from my injuries. Don’t need to check.” The move didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you knew about his boundaries, or some of them, you just didn’t know why.

Your knees were on each side of his hips and you didn’t want to waste one of your questions just to know if he was jealous or not. You knew he was, even if he’d never admit it out loud. You looked at his face and finished on his eyes. “You have no reason to be jealous, ‘cause I only have eyes for you and in all those years you’re the only one that made me feel like this, Daryl Dixon.” That wasn’t a love confession, but was really close to it. You didn’t want to scare him or to be rejected by him, but you wanted to reassure him, soothe him and make him feel secure.

The hold you had on him was out of this world, it scared him and comforted him at the same time. He tried to stay away, to push you away… and just like a magnet he was dragged back to you. He stopped fighting a long time ago, but sometimes the life he had before, who he was before, what he suffered… all of this came back to him, and having you saying this words to him, like he was special to someone, special to you, it made him never want to let go of you. He wanted to be selfish and feel that he deserved you, and that he was all the good things you told him.

He crushed his lips on yours, one hand on the back of your head pulling you closer to him. Your hands traveled on his shoulders and arms while you kissed fervently. His hands descended to your hips, fingers brushing on the skin under your shirt. You needed more, oh, you needed way more. You rolled your hips on his, searching for some friction your core aching to feel something, anything. You could feel his voluminous hard on, earning a groan from him, this time not a painful one. He bulked his hips on yours again as you did the same with him, his hands went to your butt grabbing and squeezing it, making a moan scape your lips and go into his. His tongue fighting for dominance with your, making a mess of lips, teeth, tongue and saliva.

A growl coming from your left startled you making you separate yourself from Daryl, that for the first time was ignoring everything around him and hadn’t listen to a damn thing. One second he looked confused at you for parting from him, the other he saw you picking the crossbow that was thrown on the ground, you pulled the cord, put the arrow, aimed at the walker and next second it was on the ground, dead with an arrow on its head.

“That was hot.” He looked at you in awe. He sat up and hands still on your butt. You put the crossbow aside, your arms around his neck. “Ya saved our asses.”

“Guess, Walkers are easier than trees or… I had a pretty good teacher.” You said, a mischievous smile on your face and he couldn’t resist but give a peck on your lips.

“We need to go. It’s clearly not safe here.” He was right. Very reluctantly he let go of your butt, you got up and extended your hand to help him up.

You retrieved the arrow from the walker’s skull and cleaned it. You caught everything you had brought and put in your bags to go back to the farm. On your way back, Daryl took your hand in his, cheeks blushing and all, but he tried to pass normality.

“Yer arms hurt, don’t they?” He asked squeezing your hand a little. You never complained, but he knew that you would feel it, you were not used to this kind of exercise. Also, he saw your pained face every time you’d prepare to shoot again, he didn’t say anything because he felt like he could discourage you if he did.

“A lot.” You confessed. “How did you know?”

“Ya’re not used to it, I knew it would hurt. Also, it was all written on yer face.” He said glancing at you for some seconds. “Ya never complained, ya’re gonna be a good archer.”

“Thanks.” You couldn’t stop smiling since your training spot. That was really a good day, you learned how to use a crossbow, you had a hot make out session with the man that controlled all your thoughts and you used a crossbow to kill a walker.

“When all the shit with the group that attacked in the city is over, maybe we can find a crossbow for ya in a hunting shop or something.” He suggested and you liked the idea very much. You wanted to train more, and having a silent weapon that could shoot a long distance was a good thing. You didn’t know till when you’d have ammo.

“It sounds perfect to me.” You said taking a glance at him, the smile that you couldn’t hide all over your face and hardening you grip on his hand.

You came back to the farm, hand in hand. You left Daryl on his camp, he said soon he’d join the others to help with whatever was needed. You went back to the house almost jumping in excitement, a smile still on your lips. Rick, Lori and Carol were on the porch, talking about something.

“Guess what” you announced once you were close enough. “I’m a pro with a crossbow. Even killed a walker with it.”

“Hope you killed it with an arrow and not throwing the crossbow on it.” Rick couldn’t resist but make funny of you, it was stronger than him… it was impregnated in his big bro genes in the same way his protection was.

“Haha, very funny.” You pretended not seeing the fun on his joke. “I killed it with an arrow, ask Daryl if you don’t believe me.”

“Talking about Daryl… We all saw you holding hands on your way back. Are you now official?” Carol couldn’t contain her curiosity, it was time for you to stop pinning on each other.

“We were holding hands.” You pathetically answered not actually answering the question and just repeating what she said. What should you say? You never put names on anything and you never talked about it. It was too early too.

“Yes, we saw Y/N. But that wasn’t what Carol asked.” Lori stated. “Did something else happened?”

“Stop! Nothing happened.” You replied defensively feeling your cheeks burn and blush run on your face.

“Y/N and Daryl under a tree kissing!” Rick singsonged.

“Shut up! What are you? Ten?” You gave him a light punch on his arm.

“Are you going to help with dinner today?” Lori asked rocking in the chair.

“Yes, with anything actually. Came here to see what you needed help with. Though, I would be eternally grateful if it was something that I didn’t need to move my arms a lot, cause they are hurting badly.” You threw yourself on one of the chairs.

“I’m not gonna ask what you did, because I’m afraid…” Rick was impossible annoying that day, always picking on you.

“Try shooting with a crossbow multiple times and then talk to me Rick. Why did you decide to be jerk today?” You threw the words at him.

Rick would be lying if he said he was calm, he wasn’t. After the attack on the city, the people he killed, his pregnant wife, his traitor best friend and now having to deal with the young man they brought with them from the city… He was far from good, so playing with you, like the old times, brought a sense of normalcy, just as if life wasn’t a shit anymore.

“No reason, I just like to pick on you.” He said before leaving and messing all your hair with his hands.

Later you helped with the dinner and also with the dishes when everybody finished it. There was no way of escaping doing activities with your arms, you needed them for almost everything. You were scrubbing the dishes when you felt a presence by your side, arms brushing on yours.

“What if ya wash and I dry?” Daryl asked.

“I’d appreciate it. Also, the company makes all the difference.” You answered washing some of the plates.

“Are ya going to my tent tonight?” He asked while he dried the plates.

“Do you want me to go?” You asked, you knew he wanted. The simple act of asking you was an indicator that he expected you to go, but you couldn’t just resist and make him talk.

“Yes, I sleep better when ya’re with me.” He blushed, he couldn’t see and he hoped you didn’t see but his face was pretty much red.

“So, I’m going. I also sleep better with you.” You answered while you washed the cutlery. “Just need to take my things on my tent.”

“Take what?” He asked, what would you need besides yourself?

“I’m not sleeping in jeans everyday. I need to wear something comfortable.” You said passing him the cutlery. “Maybe is good if take my sleeping bag too, what do you think?”

“Mine can fit both of us.” He said, he felt that if you had one more sleeping bag you would sleep more distant from him. Which he knew wasn’t true, because don’t matter how you slept, you always ended up hugging him.

“Ok, your tent your rules. I get it.” You answered in defeat. “But, I’ll still pick a change of clothes.”

When you finished with the dishes you said your ‘good nights’ to whoever was still around and went to your tent picking your change of clothes. He went first to his camp while you took your things and headed there too. Lori had asked you early why didn’t you simply disassembled your barrack and moved to his, but having your own tent was a security, if you needed you had it and besides that you could store your things in it.

When you got there he was finishing organizing his things. “Ya can go in, I’m going in a minute.” He said turning to face you and went back to finish what he was doing.

You entered his tent and looked around, everything screamed Daryl, you were getting so used to it that you started to think it was a little bit yours too. You had brought your beloved sleeping shorts and a comfortable oversized t-shirt. You decided to change while Daryl didn’t come. You unbuttoned your jeans and took it of, when you were finishing taking your legs out of it, Daryl entered and he could swear he almost had a heart attack.

“Wha’ are ya doing?” He asked voice high pitched a little in the end of the sentence, glued to his spot unable to think straight, he didn’t look away, but he didn’t move too.

“Changing my clothes?” You said uncertain, but tried to maintain your cool. You mean… you had slept together, but you didn’t sleep together in all the meanings of the word, just the basic meaning. So you hadn’t seen any parts from each other that you weren’t supposed to see. On the other hand, he had his hands on your butt just a few hours ago, so…

“And ya didn’t think ‘bout giving me a heads up?” He asked, trying hard not to look at your showing legs and what he could see of your ass, and failing to do so. He couldn’t take his eyes of you and you could feel his eyes burning on your skin.

“Didn’t think I needed to, besides that you had your hands on my butt earlier today, so what’s the difference on you looking at it?” You answered nonchalantly, wearing your shorts. “See, just covered my ass, but you can still see my legs.”

You took the hem of your shirt on your fingers and lifted it up, taking it out. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off you, you had your bra on, but could he wish you didn’t? He turned around and finished closing the zipped door, when he turned back you were already wearing your comfortable shirt. You sat on his sleeping bag and looked at him.

“Aren’t you going to change to something more comfortable to sleep?” You asked, you weren’t expecting a show but, if you received it you’d not mind. He stayed in silence averting his eyes from yours. “Are you taking care of your wounds? I can help if you want.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry. Did I pass the limits?” You said, now truly concerned that maybe you should have given him a heads up about changing your clothes. You told him before, you could go slow, but maybe Rick was right… you were jumping from a plane with no parachute.

“No, it’s just…” he tried to find the words, but it was so, so difficult to talk about his feelings. He sat by your side, a little distant from you. “I… my body… it’s…”

“I already saw it before, you know? Not when Hershel was patching you up. One time, you thought nobody was looking and changed your shirt in the middle of the camp. I was looking. It wasn’t my intention, but I couldn’t help but stare, cause you’re the most handsome man I ever saw.” You honestly told him, you went to him, hugging him from behind, your palms on his stomach and your chin resting on his right shoulder.

“You can’t be serious…” he muttered.

“I am. Every single thing that is part of you, is special for me.” You kissed his neck and he sighed. It was a little overwhelming putting so many of your feelings on the table like this in just one day, when Daryl couldn’t really express what he felt. But you couldn’t resist the urge to reassure him about everything.

He didn’t know where he got the courage from, but he took your hands from his stomach and led them to the first button of his shirt. You asked if he really wanted that, and he just nodded. One by one, you opened all his buttons and them pulled it sliding through his arms. Looking at his scars close, was totally different than when he was far, at the same time your heart ached you couldn’t help but admire him, how handsome he was and mainly the man he had become after all the shit he probably went through to have those marks on his body.

You said nothing and he was so afraid you would regret the beautiful words you told him and that now you were disgusted by him, but those worries went away when your lips touched the other side of his neck, your hands went to his arms. Soon you descended your kisses to his shoulders and you caressed his sides. He closed his eyes and tried to forget everything else, how could a precious thing like you think he was worthy? How could you make he feel whole? You kissed every scar on his back, including the new one that was going to be there from the recent wound and at which kiss you’d take a deep sigh from him.

You moved to be in front of him and sat on his lap, one leg on each side of him. He also had scars on his chest and you kissed each of them. You ran your fingers on his hair and looked at his face. He looked at your eyes and he saw pure adoration, no disgust, no pity… just admiration and respect.

“What are you going to wear? Do you have any comfortable shirt?” You, poor little thing, were worried about what he would wear, when you had just kissed all of him provoking all kinds of emotions, from the purest of them to the dirtiest one and now he didn’t even want you wearing anything.

He put his big hands on your face, with one he caressed your cheek and the other he used to brush his thumb on your bottom lip. You were mesmerized, caught in the moment and couldn’t move, you were stuck on his baby blue eyes. In all his life, he could never have guessed that he would be so lucky in the middle of a fucking apocalypse. Yes, dead people were walking around pestering the world. Yes, his brother was god knows where. And yes, he still had to fight for his life, to have food on his plate and to survive. But, knowing you was never something he thought that could happen to him and for that he felt like the luckiest bastard in the world.

He brought his lips to yours tenderly, and just then you came out of the daze you were in and closed your eyes kissing him back. You put one hand on his nape tugging a little at his hair while your fingers massaged the place, your other arm was hanging lazily on his shoulder while your hand touched his back lightly. You kissed slowly, but passionately. He took his time to appreciate your lips, his tongue caressed your lips and you opened them compassionately just waiting to feel his tongue on yours. It was so deliciously electrifying that a moan left your lips, and you had just kissed. His hands descended from your face to your shoulders and soon he was cupping your breasts eliciting another moan from you and making your hips buck earning a groan from him. Your lips parted from each other gasping from air.

“If ya want me to stop…” Daryl started to say, but you didn’t let him finish afraid that he would stop.

“Don’t. Please…” You almost begged bringing his torso the closest you could to your body.

“Good, ‘cause this is gettin’ on ma way and I don’t wan’ it on ya anymore.” He tugged your shirt up taking it from you.

He took some seconds to admire what he had in front of him, the gorgeous woman he had in his arms, before his lips went to your jawline kissing, nibbling and licking. His lips went down your neck treating it with same attention he had given to your jaw, finally finding that spot, that sweet delicious spot… You let out another moan trusting your hips on his one more time, starting to move them against him craving for some contact, to feel more than you were already feeling. Your hands were everywhere on him, his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen and gods… you really wanted to take it a little more down. You felt his increasing bulge on his pants, and it was a wonderful sensation still wearing clothes, you couldn’t even imagine how it would be to feel him skin to skin, you full of him would probably be paradise.

He descended his lips to your shoulders sliding the straps of your bra down, his hands were on your lower abdomen, grabbing, squeezing and going down. His hand got to the waistband of your shorts and as if it was nothing it slided inside your shorts stopping covering your clothed pussy. You were so wet and he hadn’t even made you cum yet. “Ya’re so wet, baby. Is that all for me?” his voice was hoarse and husky and just the act of talking close to your ear made you feel that coil sensation on your lower stomach. You whined unable to bring words to your mouth, you just wanted to continue, for him to take you there and now, but that wasn’t Daryl’s plan. He wanted to do unspeakable things with you, but everything had it’s own time and a right way of happening,

“Yes, Daryl… please gimme more.” You pleaded your voice low just as if you couldn’t breath.

“Shhh… it’s ok, baby. I got ya.” He said slipping his hand inside your panties and now running his fingers on your impossibly wet folds.

He took your lips again on his while his thumb started to caress and make pressure on your clit, making you whimper and moan. He was loving eliciting all those sweet little sounds from you and all the reactions he was causing too. How many times have he daydreamed about having you like this? You were just at his mercy and taking everything he gave you. He slipped one finger inside you and you let out a gasp with the new contact, the wonderful sensation. He moved his finger inside you while his thumb still caressed your bundle of nerves, your walls contracting on his finger.

You broke the kiss, giving him a peck on his lips and descending your lips to his neck and shoulders, while he pumped his finger in and out of you. When you find his spot he groaned, knowing you had found it you sucked it, nibbled it… you wanted him to feel as good as he was making you feel. He added another finger and continued to move, now more slowly as he felt your walls restraining his fingers. “So tight… baby, it must be heaven bein’ inside ya.” You cried out with the addition of another finger, gripping his arms firmly. The tingling sensation escalated so quickly to a new feeling you had never experienced before, a coil building in your lower stomach sending jolts of pleasure to your core making you clench around his fingers. “Oh, Daryl… I… what’s…” You couldn’t make a coherent thought or word come from your lips, you felt like you exploded not being able to control your body that shivered, shaked and clenched around Daryl.

His other arm encircled your body bringing you closer to him while you descended from your high, your face buried on his neck. “Ya did so good for me… Good girl… yes, baby…” he whispered while he caressed your back, his fingers still inside you waiting for you. “Ya good?”

“What was that?” You brought your face from his neck and looked at his face in awe. “I never felt so good.”

“I thought ya weren’t a virgin.” He looked confused, you already dated someone for years, so…?

“I’m not… but sex was just nice? Not like I was exploding and the world was falling apart around me.” You confessed, you never understood what was all the buzz about sex. Well, until now that you experienced it with Daryl, not the whole thing but…

“The son of a bitch never gave ya an orgasm?” He was incredulous, it wasn’t fair that in your whole life you had never experienced it. ‘Oh, so that’s how an orgasm should feel’, you thought. “Unbelievable.”

“C-can you do it again?” You asked shamelessly. You wanted, no, you NEEDED to feel that again.

He took his fingers from your pussy and lifted them to his mouth proving your juices, now he couldn’t help himself but imagine how it would be to have his face buried between your thighs. He hummed in approval licking your juices from his fingers. “Most delicious thin’ I ever tasted”, He kissed you again and now you could taste a bit of yourself from his mouth, and you never imagined how it would turn you on doing so. “Gonna take care of ya, but first let’s take yer shorts off. We don’t wanna do a mess on them.” He said, but by the way things were down there, he imagined it was already messy, well at least it probably wasn’t like your panties.

He helped you taking of your shorts and you sat again on his lap, your hand went to his waistband and you started to fight with his belt when his hands stopped your hands. “No, princess. Not today.” You looked at him confused, like what were you supposed to do if you didn’t take his pants off?

“Why?” You pouted without even noticing. “How are you going to relieve yourself too?”

“We dun have condoms baby.” He didn’t want to risk you getting pregnant, one baby on the way was enough for your group. Did he want desperately to have his cock inside you? Yes, he’d sell his soul for this, but in this world he needed to think with his brain even when he was thinking with his dick. “We’re gonna feel good in another way, ok?”

You just nodded, you trusted him so you knew he was telling the truth. You weren’t a virgin, but right now you felt just like one knowing nothing about sex, when in reality you did know something, you just didn’t know how pleasurable it really could be until some minutes ago.

You kissed him again sucking on his lips, both your hands on his hair, his hands on your back going down till he could feel your butt with no cloth between his hands and you. He grabbed your ass taking a moan from you that moved your hips against him, feeling his crotch on your sensitive and throbbing heat. “That’s it, baby. Move jus’ like that.” He praised you, encouraged you. His hands reluctantly left your butt and went to your back opening your bra, he finished sliding it from your arms.

“This is not fair…” you said while he cupped your breasts as you straddled him. “I’m almost naked and you’re all dressed.”

“Life’s not fair sweet thing…” he kissed your collarbone and soon his mouth was around your left nipple while his other hand played with your other one.

You couldn’t argue with him, in fact you didn’t even want to, you just wanted that he continued doing his thing and sending you to the edge. In few seconds, you were a moaning mess. Now both of you bucking your hips against each other, his lips moving to give the same attention to your other breast. His name escaped from your lips uncountable times while both of you chased your highs, the coil on you lower abdomen building every minute that passed. He already feeling like he’s going to erupt like a volcano on each trust from your hips and every little sound that came from your mouth. One of his hands tangled on your hair and the other travelled between your spine and your thigh. “Come on, baby. Like that… cum with me…” he looked in your eyes and you guided your hand between both of you until you found your clit circling it, pressing it… searching for the same explosion you felt earlier. “D… Daryl…” you whined, your walls clenching around nothing while you continued moving against him squirming from the tsunami of sensations that came from your core and spread throughout your body. Following you Daryl trusted his hips aimlessly on yours while the volcano inside him erupted consuming all of him.

He hugged you, one hand on your nape while the other was on your lower back. Panting and waiting for both of you to come down your highs. You kissed his shoulder before looking in his eyes, your hand caressing his cheek. He observed you, one of your hands still shoved between your legs, he took your pulse taking your hand from your panties and sucked your fingers to clean them from you. “Was it good for you?” You asked now both of your hand on his face, fingers drawing his cheek bones, his nose and his lips.

“More than good.” He hold both your pulses and kissed the inside of them. “What about we clean to sleep, hm?” You nodded at him. He took your shirt from the floor and helped you putting it on. “It’s getting cold, it’s better if ya cover yerself, but bras are prohibited in this tent from now on.” You couldn’t resist but giggle. He laid you down before going to his things and look for something. “Gonna change yer panties, kay? Ya can wear one of ma boxers.” He helped you out of your panties and right after it slided his boxers on you. “Now, I’m gonna change.”

You laid on your side head resting on your arm looking at him admiring the incredible man in front of you. “Am I getting a show?” You asked a naughty smile on your face.

“Nah, better not. Gotta keep some mystery for nex’ time.” He said turning his back to you and taking off his pants.

“Can I look at your cute butt at least?” You asked grinning. He didn’t even answer, just got out of his boxers letting his beautiful round cute ass on display for you, while he put on clean boxers and sweat pants. “Thanks, now I have the image of it to visualize when I’m not with you.”

He wore a shirt and laid with you on his sleeping bag, he hugged you from behind spooning you, his head on your shoulder. You hold his hand intertwining your fingers with his and getting cozy.

“In the end, I didn’t get to ask you anything.” You remembered of your deal for him to tell you something about him if you did good on your training.

“Ya can ask now.” Nuzzling at your neck.

“Why didn’t you want me to take your pants?” In fact you wanted to ask it in another way, but right at that moment you felt a little shy of asking it so bluntly.”It doesn’t count as a question.” You completed fast, before he thought you were throwing away one of your questions.

“I told ya, we dun have condoms. We can’t risk gettin’ ya pregnant.” He should have seen that coming, but well... “In case you dunno pulling out isn’t an effective contraceptive option.”

“I don’t care…” you said clearly not thinking straight he could see.

“Ya’re making no sense woman. Ya’re probably still high from yer orgasm.” He couldn’t help but snort a little at your behavior. “One baby Grimes on the way is enough.”

“Baby Dixon. If it was yours, it wouldn’t be a Grimes.” You said, and he was a little relieved you had your back to him, because he was blushing as hell at thought of impregnating you with a baby Dixon.

“Think it’s better if we sleep. We had a long day.” He tried changing the subject and fighting the urge to break the moment, to push himself away from you. He didn’t want this, but his nature, his inner voices told him to do so, and this time he wouldn’t listen to them.

“I’d carry it proudly, you know?” You said pressing your back against him, trying to be closer, but it was already impossible, since both of you were already too much close in this embrace. You took his hand that was intertwined with yours and took it to your mouth kissing the back of it. “Good night… you still owe me my questions.”

“Night, sweetheart.” He closed his eyes, hiding his face on your neck while both of you drifted to sleep.

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teyamsatan · 1 year

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The Archer | Chapter VIII: Bigger Than The Whole Sky

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

Summary: As you try everything in your power to bring Neteyam back to life, he gets everything he's ever wanted in Eywa.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 11,5k words

Warnings/notes (please proceed with caution, some of the topics might be sensitive/triggering): angst (lots and lots of angst), death, blood, violence, cursing, mildly suggestive content (18+, minors DNI), spoilers (!!) for ATWOW

A/N: i am sick and i am so so so sorry - IT HAD TO BE DONE OK?!

This was supposed to be the last chapter, but i quickly realised as i was writing it that there was no way I could reasonably end the series the way I wanted to this way - so two chapters it is. This took everything out of me honestly, but i put so much love and effort into this series, into the laws and the lore I have created, and I hope it comes across this way. I have spent an obscene amount of time trying to piece it all together, make everything consistent within the story I have already told, and I am proud of the way everything is shaping up. Now, this chapter WILL HURT and I am so sorry, but I PROMISE you all you will not be disappointed with the ending, and I will give EVERY character the ending they deserve, bc i love them all so much and they deserve to be happy.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling but i'd love to chat more about it and elaborate my thoughts and reasonings so let's chat in the replies/asks baby boys, gals and non-binary pals <3 ILY all so much xoxoxo

↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧

No words appear before me in the aftermath Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

“Where are your sisters?”

Jake’s voice registered weakly in your ears, just like the muffled cries around you and Neytiri’s haunting wails. The tears that fell from your eyes were dried up and gone in the wind, like the rest of your being was. Empty. Soulless. Dead.

“YOUR SISTERS, WHERE ARE THEY?”

“I don’t know.”

Lo’ak’s voice sounded tired. So tired. You were all tired. Tired of this world, tired of the pain that never ever seemed to cease, that never ever wanted to relent. Your blurred dizzy vision moved to your hands, red and sticky, coated in Neteyam’s warm blood. You looked at Lo’ak, whose hands looked similar to yours. Fitting, you thought. His blood was on your hands. You were responsible for this. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get the fuck out of the ship, like you should have done. You made him come. And because of you, your dad was dead, your mate was dead. Your dad was a trained soldier, one of the best that has ever existed. Why in Eywa’s name would you ever think he needed you? If you hadn’t been there, they would have probably escaped the ship easier, quicker, and you would be all finishing the rest of the humans instead of trying to figure out how you were ever going to survive this, how you were supposed to exist in a world Neteyam didn’t, how you were going to make quick work of your damned, void soul.

Your mind went to the book, the book that you took with you to this new life as you carried it in your own, the book whose every memorable quote reminded you of him, that felt so appropriate now, all the words were swimming scattered through every crevice of your being.

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

“Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”

“I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat!”

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

“Nelly, I am Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more then I am always a pleasure to myself - but, as my own being.”

It truly seems you couldn’t stop ruining everything you touched. It seems no matter what body your mind was in, no matter whether in the forest or at sea, no matter a child or a full grown adult, no matter broken or seemingly healed, everything you touched just turned to ashes. Everything, everyone that dared to get close to you was bound to be lost in the abyss forever.

“WHERE ARE THEY?”

“They’re on the ship. They are tied up on the ship.”

“Yeah, they’re at the moon pool. Come on, I’ll show you.”

All the voices were distant, broken, like a messed up radio, you could only pick up words, only sounds that your brain was working hard to try to piece together. You didn’t know who was speaking, your every sense focused on Neteyam, on his eyes, still open, that will haunt you forever, for the rest of your measly, torn-apart life.

You noticed Jake come to you, taking you by the shoulders and shaking you. He did the same to Neytiri.

“Kid, come on. Let’s go. We gotta go.” When he saw how unresponsive you are, that your eyes barely looked more alive than your mate’s, that all you could muster was a barely visible shake of head, he let you go.

“Listen to me, listen to me.” He could barely speak, could be barely heard over the stirring, painful cries continuously escaping Neytiri’s mouth, yet another thing you will never be able to forget as long as you live. You have never heard anything like it, never thought it was possible for such sounds to escape another being, never thought a wordless evocation could say so much, could say everything words couldn’t.

“They have our daughters. They have our daughters. I need you with me. And I need you to be strong. Right now, strong heart. Strong heart.”

Silence enveloped the space around you, just like the darkness that came with the eclipse, and you were happy, happy for your mind to be able to focus on what it needed to, what it had to.

“Let’s go get our daughters.”

“You stay with your brother.”

“No, dad, I want to go with you.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“No, dad…”

Neteyam woke up dazed, lavender haze surrounding him until his vision finally focused, and he was able to see the periwinkle glow for what it was: bioluminescent flora. Different than the one he’s been forced to get used to the past few months - better. Because this beauty all around him was in a place he knew and loved so much, that will always be his favourite place in the world. Your clearing, back in the Omatikaya forest. How was he here? He couldn’t remember what happened, couldn’t remember a single thing from before a few seconds ago, but he took a moment to revel in being back home. He has not said it to anyone, not even you, but as much as he has enjoyed the reef, enjoyed the peace that came with being far away from humans, within the Metkayina clan, Neteyam deeply missed his home. He’s wanted to speak about it to you, but couldn’t - not when he knew how much you have also been struggling with it, how much you also missed this place, not when there was nothing to be done anyway. They couldn’t come back, as much was clear, while the humans hunted them so ferociously, while the clan could suffer as a consequence.

This place was slightly different than he remembered, Neteyam mused, and he realises it is because he has very rarely seen it after eclipse. You both usually came here during the day, as dangers hid in the shadow of the night, dangers he wouldn’t be willing to risk encountering, not with you around. He slowly, deliberately, enjoying every step, every sensation, every sound, made his way to the middle of the clearing, where the river trickled serenely, and he couldn’t help kneel next to it and put one hand in the water, palm against the current. He stood like this for a while, reminiscing about all the memories you have made here and how happy he was to be able to feel this again.

“Neteyam, wait uuup!”

“You have to be faster than that if you ever want to catch me!”

“I don’t want to catch you, I just want to catch up with you!”

Neteyam laughed at the tiny 8 year old girl with bouncing hair and starry eyes, ears pushed back and tails swinging rapidly from one side to the other in happiness at seeing her running towards him, a small pout on her pink lips and an annoyed figure on her face. The little boy kneeled to the ground and opened his much bigger arms wide and she ran straight into him, almost knocking him over at the force of the impact. He wondered if it hurt her. He was always worried about her, she was so so small.

“You caught me.”

“Woah! What is this place?”

Neteyam took in your awed, amazed expression and turned around slowly and was speechless at the beauty of this place, this little corner of Pandora that seemed untouched, that seemed no one else has ever set foot in it before you two.

“It’s heaven!!”

“What’s heaven?” You spoke English most of the time, although you knew Na’vi as well, but a lot of the words you spoke were new to Neteyam - he was a fast learner, though, and he loved it when you explained anything to him. It was better than when the scientists did, except auntie Jo. He loved auntie Jo.

“It’s where good people go after they die, at least that’s what mummy said about Earth people.”

Neteyam shook his head minutely. “No, people go with Eywa after they die! Everybody knows that!”

“So, maybe Heaven is where Eywa is?”

You both thought about it a long time, focused expressions on both your faces.

“That sounds about right! But why is it here?”

You thought about that for a while too. “I think Heaven looks different for different people. But this can be our heaven! Yours and mine!”

“Just you and me?”

“Just you and me.”

Neteyam liked the idea of that, that there would be a place for only you two, for the rest of time.

Neteyam’s attention shifted back from his own little world into this one, although it barely felt like anything changed, as two little kids ran straight into the clearing, a little human girl chasing a blue boy. Why was his mind making him see the same thing twice, why was this all so real, it was like it was taken from his imagination and placed into the physical world?

“Kalin, wait uuup! I’m smaller than you and I have tiny legs! You are being mean, brother!”

Kalin? Brother?

“Tsy, you’re the one that asked me to not go easy on you.”

“Well, that’s what mother told me to say. She said it’s called feminism.”

“What’s feminism?”

“What do I know? I’m six.”

Neteyam was taken aback at the interaction, and at these kids that he has never seen before, whose names didn’t sound familiar to him at all. And the little girl… there’s no other human children on Pandora, haven’t been since… well, you. Could they be new children the humans brought with them? But the scientists always said the reason Spider wasn’t sent back was because you cannot put babies in the contraptions humans used to travel. He sat there, unmoving, just taking it all in, studying these two children carefully, with intense curiosity. His eyes widened and mouth opened before he even realised, as he observed the girl more carefully. She was human… but she had white freckles, freckles like all the Na’vi did… and she had a queue. A queue…

Her hair was dark and thick, braided and ornate, with beads and feathers, and her eyes, they were yellow, like his, but the shape, just like the shape of her nose and mouth… she looked like you. The boy was taller and blue, like he was, but his eyes and nose looked… human, nothing like a Na’vi, and Neteyam was reminded a lot of Kiri, how she looked even more human than an Avatar. As he was laughing at his little sister, Neteyam saw the boy… Kalin, was it? He didn’t have fangs, either. His hair was long and wavy, a different colour than the rest of the Na’vi had, and he was wearing it down, flowing gently and glowing in the sun.

Neteyam’s heart was about to explode out of his chest as the realisation slowly hit him, and as he shifted a little towards them, struggling to keep himself steady on the ground, the sounds his body made attracted the attention of the two little beings in front of him, who both gasped loudly and smiled widely at his presence.

“DADDY! YOU’RE HERE!”

They both ran with all their might straight into his body, which - at the contact as well as the overwhelming feelings that enveloped him whole - fell straight to the ground with a loud thud, and which Kalin and Tsyeym started attacking mercilessly with tickles and kisses.

“WE MISSED YOU, DAD!”

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end.

You felt like you just woke up, like your brain rewired and restarted. What the fuck were you doing? You were a medic. You were a scientist. You had a fucking medical bag full of supplies and equipment and so much shit you worked so hard to learn to use, to bring here with you. And you were just going to let your mate die? Without even trying? No. No fucking way.

You got up from the ground, like the ground burned you, and ran to Neyn, where you picked up the large bag that always resided on her, and moved it next to Neteyam’s body. You pushed away the tears forming silently at his unmoving form, trying not to dwell on it too much. He’s just sleeping. He’s just sleeping. Your mate, your best friend and the love of your life, the man you hoped would be the father of your children one day, he’s just sleeping.

You searched the bag, hurried and crazed, and found the strips of gauze you were looking for. You removed them from their sterile wrappings and screamed at Tsireya, who was looking at you panicked, not understand what was happening. You cringed a little at her face, a crying, blubbering mess, and tried to push the thoughts out of your mind. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping. You looked around for Lo’ak, or Jake, or anyone else, but they were all gone. Where was Lo’ak? Where did he go again? You needed him and he was gone. You growled loudly, but didn’t say anything else on the subject, turning your full attention to Tsireya.

“I need you to help me keep him upright for a while, I need to bandage his wounds. Can you do that?”

She was confused, the emotion very obvious on her face. “Y-yes, I can, but… but… he’s d-“

“Tsireya.” You hissed lowly, fangs barring menacingly. He was sleeping. Just sleeping. “Can you help me or not?”

She nodded furiously, and you knew she would help in any way she could. She was a good kid. She’ll make a good Tsa’hik one day.

“Alright.” You helped her bring his torso up, and you waited for her to rearrange so that she could keep his much larger body in the position you needed her to. You grabbed the large bandage and rolled it around his body, tying it as tightly as you possibly could, cursing under your breath that no one else was here, knowing that Jake could have tightened it better than you could. You needed as much pressure as possible, needed the wounds to stop bleeding. You were trying not to think about how much blood he’s already lost. All that mattered at the moment was that his heart started beating again. You were the same blood type, you could give him blood, but all the blood in the world wouldn’t do anything without a heart to pump it through his body.

Once you were happy with how wrapped his body was, you motioned for Tsireya to lay him back on the ground, which she did, slowly and carefully - which you appreciated. You straddled him, knees on either side of his abdomen and placed the heel of your hand over his chest. You placed your other hand on top of the first, and intertwined your fingers together, starting to pump his chest rhythmically, putting all your effort into it.

“Tsireya, I need you to look in the bag and find a red little case, like a basket. When you find it, bring it to me, fast.”

She took off immediately, ready and committed to do whatever it took to help. You continued the CPR, not stopping for a second, mind running a thousand miles a minute. The fight or flight finally overtook you, and you knew now you would do whatever it took to bring Neteyam back. Because you had to. Because there was no other option. Because you have both suffered enough. You deserved a soft epilogue. You were both good people, and you suffered enough.*

“Here it is!” She brought it next to you, flinging it from side to side in front of your face.

“Good. Now I need you to open it, you see that string? That’s called a zipper. Just pull on it and it should come apart in two.”

Once she did that, you saw the defibrillator come into view and you sighed a small breath of relief. You were exhausted, sweat dripping from your forehead and onto Neteyam’s chest.

“I need you to put this on him. I will walk you through it, I will tell you what to do, but you have to do it, do you understand me?”

She looked uncomfortably from side to side. “B-but, I.. you should do it.”

“I can’t do it, Tsireya. Please. I know this it strange to you, and new and unnatural, and I am sorry, but I need to do this. We need to do this.” You let out a pained cry. “I need to save him. I can save him.”

Your voice rang in the forest all around him, surrounding the meadow and filling his ears, hauntingly beautiful and serene, and he was overwhelmed at the voice, that he missed so much, that he felt like he was just hearing for the first time.

Where the North wind meets the sea

There's a river full of memory

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound

For in this river, all is found

Neteyam struggled to understand what was going on, but, as he was being tackled by the children that just called him dad, the children that bore a striking resemblance to both you and him, he allowed himself to be pushed to the ground and he felt his heart swell to twice its size at the feeling of warmth that enveloped him. As he tightened his arms around the little boy and girl, he realises he knows them. He knows them, has known them every moment of their lives. He has loved them every moment of their lives.

“Parultsyìp! (Children!)”

Memories flooded his being, of your beautiful body, now a bit bigger than he remembered, caressing your pregnant belly tenderly as he placed small kisses all over it; you laughed loudly as the action made you ticklish, and brought your hand to the back of his head, patting him gently, playing with his braids. Memories of Kalin being born, a strange sight, seeing the blue baby come out of his very human mate, but the happiest day of his life. Memories of Mo’at telling you you’re pregnant again, and the shock that overtook you both, then the immense joy that followed seeing his baby girl for the first time, so tiny and absolutely perfect. The first communion with Eywa, their pocket-sized queues connecting to the Spirit Tree, the whole tribe and the scientists, all there to celebrate the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, as well as their new happy family. Putting them to sleep every night, neither of them able to slumber without hearing your voice singing softly in their ears. The years passing, but not the passion and love you shared, still obsessed with each other, still going at it like crazed teenagers, like you did ever since you first mated. Images of Lo’ak being the best uncle, and Neteyam having panic attacks every time he would twist and throw his kids in the air like they were helicopter propellers. His mother and father both holding each one of the kids in their arms, cooing and rocking them softly, crying when Tsy wrapped her tiny hand around his mother’s pinky. Kalin’s first word, sweets, since that was what you always called him, and Tsyeym’s, fuck, curtesy of Lo’ak and Spider’s babysitting, which Neteyam prohibited afterwards, and although you tried to hide it - you found it a little funny. All of these things and more, 8 years of memories, of love and care, of adoration and awe, all overwhelming, all pulsating through Neteyam’s mind like electrical shocks, waking him like from a nightmare.

“Neteyam?”

When his amber eyes reopened, the kids were gone, much to his dismay, but he was comforted by the sight of you, his beautiful love, his beautiful light.

“Atan!”

Your human face looked scared, and confused, and sad, but Neteyam couldn’t care less, not when he felt like he hasn’t seen you in a lifetime, not when the only thing he wanted to do was kiss you, like Dean kissed Rory in that episode of Gilmore Girls you loved. He didn’t think twice about your size, about how in your human body, you were as tall as a Na’vi girl, how even in the forest, your face was unencumbered by the weight of your oxygen mask. He didn’t think of anything, because none of it matter outside of you, outside of you and him and the love you shared.

He ran to you, watching as every step made the ground glow in lustrous pastel colours and he smiled as he picked you up by your thighs and lifted you, pushing you to the tree your body was close to until your back hit it and you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your hands found his face and hair, like they always did, and your body melted into him, slowly relaxing, giving him a dazzling smile that took his breath away.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan.”

The kiss was everything he needed and more, more than he could ever dream in this life and the next and everything that came after. It was hot and needy and desperate, and you were clinging to each other like you never wanted to let go, and he’d be damned if he ever would again.

Tsireya took a look at your disheveled figure, putting all your effort into your chest compressions, and she nodded, determination overtaking any other emotion on her face.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Alright. In the pouch, there is the little device with a human drawn on it. You see that blue lever, just pull on it, until the cover comes off.”

She did as she was told, and let out an excited yelp when what you told her would happen, happened.

“I did it!”

“That’s great, Tsireya. Now, inside, there are two pieces of… paper… yes, that’s right. I need you to look at the drawing on them, and remove the yellow film that is on them, and put the white strips on Neteyam’s body, exactly how it shows you in the picture. Make sure you press them down properly.”

She manoeuvred around you so she can do what you told her, and eventually, the pads were on. It was up to the little contraption to do its job now. Neteyam’s life was in its tiny, inanimate hands.

“Neteyam, stop.”

“No, Atan, I can’t stop. I need you, I need you so badly.”

Neteyam felt you push him away, the same expression as earlier marring your beautiful face. You looked…scared.

“Neteyam, why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck… if you’re here… that means… Shit.”

Neteyam watched as you removed yourself from him, and no matter how disappointed, he helped put you back onto the ground. You put distance in between you, which Neteyam dreaded, and you were pacing around, seemingly out of your mind with worry.

“No… it can’t be.”

“What is going on, Atan? You’re scaring me.”

“Neteyam, you can’t be here. You have to go. What is the last thing you remember?”

Neteyam thought long and hard about it. Nothing… he couldn’t remember anything. He can remember moving to the Metkayina, and learning to swim. He can remember the beauty of the reef, he can remember you, hair blowing gracefully in the humid wind as you took to the new culture, he can remember a magical celebration where people danced and sang. That’s about it.

“I can’t remember much… I just woke up here, back home. I walked through the clearing and saw our kids. Our kids, Atan! They are so beautiful, they look so much like both of us. They look exactly like what I imagined them to ever since I fell in love with you! I can’t believe I’m back home, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought I’d never be back here.”

Your mouth fell slightly agape, looking somewhere behind him, and you looked like you were trying to process everything he was telling you.

“…Kids… Our kids… you saw our kids?”

“Yes, they were right there, laughing and chasing each other, just like we used to do, in the exact place we used to. It’s everything I have ever wanted, ever since the moment I knew how deeply and irrevocably in love with you I was, all I wanted was this. That moment right there, this moment right here.”

Neteyam saw your lips quiver, trembling trying to keep in the tears that were threatening to spill out. Your brows were furrowed and you were looking at him in disbelief, like nothing about this made sense, like what he was feeling was wrong, and Neteyam couldn’t understand. He was finally home. You finally guided him home.

You closed the distance in between you and pulled him into a hug, a tight hug that he immediately reciprocated.

“I love you so much. I have missed you so much.” You were sobbing in his chest now, hot tears trickling down his torso.

“But I need you to try to remember. You have to remember.”

Neteyam’s words caught in his throat as a loud boom almost knocked him to the ground, shaking the whole clearing, and he found it hard keeping upright. His first instinct, as it always was, was to shield you, so he grabbed your body in his and pushed you to the ground, towering over you with his body.

“What is happening?”

The world was losing focus around him, the edges of the clearing blurred and disappearing slowly from view.

“Atan, what is happening?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and he saw you shaking your head almost imperceptibly, biting on the inside of your lip aggressively. He brought his hand up to your face and caressed your lips softly with his thumb, tugging a little so you stopped hurting yourself.

“What is it, Atan? What can’t you tell me? Why am I here? Why are we here?”

“I’m here for you, Neteyam. You have to remember.”

Neteyam was trying so hard, thinking so hard whilst the world was seemingly falling apart around him, around you both, and the only thing he could think of, the only think he knew, is that he didn’t want to leave you. He didn’t want to leave the meadow, or the kids. He was home, finally. He could finally live.

“I will try to remember, Atan. I am not leaving you, I am not going anywhere. I will protect you and the kids. We’re never going to be apart again.”

You seemed pained at his words, but said no more as another quake shook the ground you were laying on.

You watched as Neteyam’s body jerked violently for a second time, with no response. The deep fear and anguish, the dark thoughts were slowly creeping up on you again, as your mate wasn’t coming back to life, and it seemed again all efforts, all your hope was easily being dragged out to sea, out into the abyss, along your sanity and future.

“Please, please fuck! Please, just work. Goddamn it!”

You continued CPR in between shocks, praying, begging Eywa for a chance. Please, Great Mother, you can’t do this. I’m begging you, please. Please!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

As you felt his heart beating in his chest again and heard it on the AED, you felt as if yours started beating again too. You stopped the chest compressions and moved your head close to his face, trying to see if he was breathing. A soft, subtle puff of air was being released from his nose every couple of seconds and you saw in shock as wet drips were falling on his beautiful, ethereal face.

Acid rain leaking from your eyes, pouring like tropical storms, never-ending, all-powerful and you couldn’t stop, couldn’t make them stop. You were wailing, crying harder than you ever have before as the man you loved came back from the dead, as his heartbeat was weak, but nevertheless present on your fingertips that were pushing against his throat, as your other hand went to his cheek that you caressed, trying to figure out if this was real, if he was really back. Your wails were so loud they were hurting your ears, but you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t make yourself stop, all you felt was enormous, earth-shattering grief, all the sorrow you suppressed flooding all of your senses, clouding your mind, pushing anything else down, melting it into the ground. The ache was coursing through your veins, poisoning every cell in your body until the was nothing left but this - it. You should be happy, you should be relieved, but as you watched the man you have known, you have loved every single day of your unpredictable, crazy, mercurial life, you realised how close he was, how close you were to losing him forever, to losing everything that kept you sane, kept you going.

You saw it all: washing his dead body, preparing him for the funeral, removing his bracelet, the bracelet that signified your love and your bond, the family dressed in mournful garbs, having to let him go, giving his body to the ocean, having to sing his songcord one last time, never being able to see him again, only having to settle for scraps, for a memory, or for a vision at the Spirit Tree. You saw yourself, a widow forever, never being able to move on, never being able to be happy, ever again, because he was happiness, and he was everything and he was gone. You saw your future - never having children, because if they weren’t his - what was the point? You saw his family, ruptured and torn apart by the loss of their son, their sibling, their hero, their best friend. You saw Lo’ak, carrying the guilt for the rest of his life, rebelling against his father, going on a dark path it was near impossible to turn him back from. You saw Neytiri, broken after another loss, the worst loss a mother could ever feel, never fully recovering, never truly being the same again. You saw Tuk and Kiri withdraw into themselves, the light they carried with them everywhere they went snuffed out at the calamitous loss. You saw it all and it killed you, it gutted you from the inside out.

But he was here. He was still here. Everything you saw, every nightmare your mind made you watch, laughing as you suffered, revelling in it, like it always was, it was just that - a nightmare. A parallel universe you never had to live through. Because he was here. He’s just sleeping.

You knew you didn’t have time to waste. You had to go back, you had to warm his body and clean his wounds, you had to remove any scraps the bullet left behind in his organs, you had to give him blood. There was still too much to do, and he needed you. You didn’t have time to fully fall apart just yet.

“Tsireya, we need to take him back to the village, we need to go, now. Just help me put him on Neyn, please.”

“I…I’ve never been on an Ikran before.”

If you weren’t so dazed and out-of-your-mind, you would have scoffed at that.

“Oh, I think you have, too.”

You didn’t have to look at the Metkayina girl to feel the embarrassment in her cheeks and her tail swish vigorously.

“I’ll make sure your parents know this is the first time, ok? I’m a great liar. Just please get on.”

Between the two of you, you managed to place Neteyam’s still unmoving, still unconscious body on your beautiful banshee, and you all got on, trying your best to cage his body so that he wouldn’t fall.

“I’ll tell her to go slow and steady, just hold on to her kuru (queue) and you’ll be fine.”

Ok, sweet girl. We have to get back. Please go gently. Hurry.

Neyn trilled in your direction, and you can tell she was worried and stressed through the bond. You didn’t know if it was just a mirror of your own mind or if she was feeling it too. Neyn loved Neteyam. He was always nice to her, and considerate and attentive. Neyn also loved Seze, and the thought of Seze being without her chosen Na’vi, being alone, the rest of her life, hurt Neyn. It hurt you, too. It hurt you so badly, in fact, your body was convulsing slightly, pain deep within your abdomen, that almost made your ikran lose her focus, and she wobbled a little midair, which made Tsireya scream.

“It’s alright, you’re ok. We’re ok.”

You rushed to your marui as soon as Neyn landed and you saw Seze make her way to you as well. Poor girl. You and Neteyam might not have a spirit brother like Lo’ak now did, but these two, they were it for you. You and Neteyam had a bond with your ikran that transcended time, space and species, and you would never be able to replace them, as long as you lived.

The first thing you needed was blood. He needed blood. You got out an empty blood bag and the tube, as well as a needle and syringe. You’d have to work fast, and you’d have to operate on him while the blood was being withdrawn, which will hurt, but you had to take the risk, he didn’t have much time.

“Tsireya, listen to me. I need to give Neteyam blood. My blood. I need you to take that little ribbon and tighten it around my arm, below my bracelet. It needs to be so tight it hurts, do you understand? When I tell you, you need to remove it. Then, as soon as I put the needle in and the blood starts flowing, we will need to clean him and I will patch him up, ok?”

Tsireya looked lost and trembling, her bottom lip quivering uncontrollably, but she nodded meekly, looking around at all the things she did not understand or know, deep panic on her features.

“Good girl.” As soon as she did what you asked, you found a vein and watched as deep, violent red liquid flowed softly from your body to the bag. The Metkayina girl gasped, but said nothing, just looking at the blood like in a trance, removing the tourniquet when you told her.

“It’s ok. This will help him. But we need to hurry. It takes about ten minutes for it to fill, maybe a bit longer since I will be using my arm at the same time.”

You got to work immediately, cleaning and disinfecting the area where he lay, prepping all of your tools and asking Tsireya to be your scrub nurse for the day. You cleaned his body, bloodied and bruised, trying to not focus on how it was making you nauseous, making your mind sick and dizzy with worry and pain, and you knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You were too emotionally involved to be the one doing this, but there was no one else. Not Norm, not Max. Not Claire, or Tim, no one else. You took the scalpel and made a cut into his skin, asking Tsireya to cauterise wherever she saw bleeds. She was naturally good at this, you noted and you smiled at this girl who has only known you and Neteyam for a few months and yet here she was, crying and shaking, doing everything in her power to save your family from harm. You knew Lo’ak was a big reason for it, but not the only reason. You really liked her.

You diligently removed all the shards and shrapnel the bullet left behind, and sutured every layer until his back was patched up. Somehow, the bullet missed his heart, and the main arteries, which you felt was Eywa’s doing. It had to be. Eywa wanted him to live, she had to. Because this wasn’t balance. Nothing about your lives has ever been balanced, and it would take a lot of good to equilibrate all the fucked up shit both you and him, your entire family has been through. So Neteyam had to live.

Once the blood bag was full, you removed the needle from your body and got up, realising quickly you shouldn’t be standing up, falling to the ground with a thud. Shit. You once again had to turn to Tsireya for help, and she managed to hang the bag somewhere above you, so that the liquid could flow freely into Neteyam’s body. You waited until you turned him chest up, and then inserted the needle, allowing the blood to move through his now beating heart. Your blood. Your blood ran through his body, through his heart. Your blood will save him, like your hands did, like your body had to. You were about to collapse after losing so much, but knowing you were the reason he was still here empowered you. It was just you and him. Just you and him, in this whole world, for the rest of time.

It was hard having to turn him upside down without disturbing him or hurting him further, but eventually you and Tsireya managed to, and you did the same procedure on his chest, until that was also completely closed and clean. Your hands were trembling, and your suture ruptured a few times in his body, and it took every ounce of self-restrain you had to not cry, not to collapse in a puddle on the floor, to not scream in agony, not ask the Universe what the hell could you have ever done to deserve going through all of this? Nobody should have to go through having to lose a dad and a mate in one day, no one should have to fight tooth and nail to keep them from crossing to the other side, to patch their brokenness, whilst yours flourished and bloomed like deadly nightshade. You had to endure more in 19 years than most people do in their lives, more grief embellished your being than there were beads adorning Na’vi bodies. You were feeling sorry for yourself, and for once in your life, you didn’t want to stop, you didn’t want to have to pull yourself back together, you didn’t want to be strong anymore. You were tired.

When you finished, you were spent, hours upon hours passing you by. You felt pain in your body everywhere, kicking at your insides like a monster waiting to crawl out of you with every push. You were cramping and the whole world turned around you, and you knew you were going to pass out from exhaustion. You went to your mat, anxiety enveloping you in knowing there was nothing else you could possibly do for Neteyam at the moment, and called for your turquoise friend.

“Tsireya, when…if… the family gets back, you tell them they need to call Norm and Max. Tell them they need to get here as soon as possible. I can’t do this by myself.” You felt the world dissolving before you as you spoke, and allowed it to fully dissipate away from view, embracing the feeling of nothingness, because nothing meant no pain, and no images of your dead mate, and your dead dad, and you were happy with that.

You woke up in a daze, faintly recognising the slur of voices blending together into one indistinctive blabber, that you tried with your whole might to decipher. You tried to open your eyes, but they were so heavy it felt like lifting weights back in the lab complex as a human. Eventually, your senses recovered and you were able to both see and hear the Sullys, as well as Norm and Max chatting to each other, huddled over Neteyam’s body.

“She’s awake!” Tuk’s voice startled you, and seeing her approaching you excitedly tugged at your heart. My Tuk-tuk…

“Oh, Great Mother, thank you! Ma ‘ite!” Neytiri crouched next to your limp body and hugged you, and you winced as every part of you she was touching hurt. You saw scratches and bruises all over your body from the battle, that you were too preoccupied to notice before.

“Sa’nok.” She sobbed in your chest, releasing all the anguish of thinking she has lost two kids in one night. “I’m ok, sa’nok. I’m here.”

“You saved him! You saved him, I thought we lost him! I thought I lost him!” Her cries were ringing painfully in your ear, the sadness in them close to tearing you apart.

“Is he…?”

Jake came over and kneeled next to you, tears in his own eyes. The whole family looked exhausted, spent, physically and mentally, and you counted them quickly, sighing deeply when you found them all to be here, in the tent.

“He’s still asleep, kid. What happened?”

“I should ask you the same thing.”

You moved next to Neteyam, holding his hand, just needing to feel him, and his now much stronger pulse, and spent the next while explaining everything you have had to do and watched as their mouths got progressively more agape in shock. Then they watched yours do the same as Jake told you what happened on the ship.

“He’s dead, kid. He’s finally dead. Whatever else happens, at least Quaritch will never haunt this family ever again.”

Your eyes immediately moved to Spider, and you felt a tinge of sadness for the boy who also had to lose his father, just like you have. No matter what, no matter what atrocities this man committed, you knew better than most than the love doesn’t go away, it runs deep and the water of an underwater cavern, hidden from view and light, but there, nevertheless. You were surprised, though, when upon looking at him, you saw him shifting uncomfortably, looking everywhere but you and your family, picking at his cuticles. It was a bad habit you shared, but one that gave away nervousness, anxiety - guilt. What the hell did you do, Spider?

“How long have I been out?”

“About a day?”

You turned to Max and Norm, who were dutifully listening to everything, and you could tell how overwhelming it all was to them, how crazy and mind numbing and revolting. But it was life, your life. Your life.

“How is he?”

All of the attention shifted back onto Neteyam, who looked like he was resting. He looked… happy. Peaceful. You hoped whatever he was going through, it was better than this abusive reality, and you hope he could finally rest, until he was ready to come back to you.

“He’s in a coma, Ace.” You gasped a little, and another stabbing pain shot through you. “Look here.” He rose the portable EEG he had in his hands and scanned Neteyam’s brain from a distance.

Your breath stopped as you took in the information on the screen.

“He’s in a hypoxic-ischaemic coma.”

“W-what does that mean?”

You gulped loudly before you answered Jake.

“It means that his brain didn’t have enough oxygen after his heart stopped.” What you didn’t want to tell him is how few people actually come back from that, and come back the same way they left. You exchanged a look with Norm and saw the imperceptible head shake he gave in your direction, and once again, felt pain stabbing you everywhere in your body.

“B-but he’ll be alright, no? He’ll wake up and it’ll be alright?”

You lied to yourself as much as to them. “Yes. Yes, he’ll be alright.”

Neteyam woke up startled, deep nightmares still fresh in his mind, nightmares of a battle, of a ship, of blood dripping over him and on the floor, pain shooting through him ceaselessly. Images of his mother screaming that haunted him, images of your forlorn face as the last thing on his mind before it all ended. He breathed a sigh of relief as he took in the familiar beauty of your meadow and took in the two small bodies resting against his own, nuzzled in his chest. He was ok. Everything was ok. He was home, his kids were safe. The voice humming peacefully blessed his ears, and he knew then that you were also safe. It was just a nightmare.

He quietly untangled himself from his kids’ grasps, that ended up cuddling each other back to sleep, paying little mind to their dad. He took in the sight that swelled his heart so much he felt it was going to explode out of his chest. He has never been happier. He couldn’t imagine life getting any better.

“I didn’t know if you’d come back.” Your voice was soft and angelic, like it always was, but your words confused him.

“What do you mean? Where else would I go?”

You sighed, but patted the spot next to you so he could join you. You looked over at the two little beings sleeping peacefully a few feet from you.

“So these are our kids, huh?”

Further confusion enwrapped Neteyam like a quilt. He didn’t understand most words that were coming out of your mouth.

“So you want two kids? Not three? I always thought you wanted a whole football team.” You say almost to yourself, laughing a little with your hand brought to your mouth in amusement.

“Atan, what is going on? I don’t understand what you are saying. You’re acting like you don’t know our kids.”

You smiled a little in his direction, a sorrowful smile, but as you brought your hand up to his face and caressed his cheek in the way you always did, in the way that calmed his mind and set his skin ablaze, all the worry left him.

“They’re beautiful. So beautiful. Perfect mix of you and me. You know, I used to think about our kids, think about the impossible scenario that you and me could bring life into this crazy world, but they’re so much better than my imagination ever was. Pure and good, unlike the world they’ll never get to see.”

Neteyam didn’t have time to question you, not when the little bundles of joy in question rose sleepily and tackled you both, squeals and happy screams filling up the forest.

“Mummy! Daddy! You’re both here! We missed you, mum!”

“Did you, now?” Neteyam looked at you, and you looked like you were struggling to adjust to the new development, like you were trying to thread the ground and the situation carefully. You looked…uncomfortable. Why were you uncomfortable around your own children? Neteyam’s seen you with Tuk a million times, you were great with children. He couldn’t help the seed of doubt and fear that was growing in his belly, making him nervous. What was going on?

“Let’s swim, all of us! We haven’t swam together in a long time!” Tsyeym pushed to her feet and grabbed you both with all her might, trying to will you towards the river. He watched as you relented, and eventually got up, grabbing her on the way and bringing her up into your arms.

“Wait a second. Let me have a look at you.” You analysed the little girl, your little girl, every feature and freckle on her face. You poked her small nose with your index finger and traced it on her face, on her perfect pink plush lips and her yellow eyes, to her braided hair. You gently grabbed her queue and laughed a little as Tsyeym shrieked - it tickled her. “So you’re my little baby girl? You are the most beautiful thing in the world, aren’t you?” You turned to Neteyam, and he noticed you holding back tears. You looked happy. “She has my eyes. My mother’s eyes.”

Neteyam nodded, confusion still gnawing at him. “Of course she does. Your eyes are the most incredible things I have ever seen in my life. They are like treasures - my treasures.”

“Just like she is.” You held her against your chest and Neteyam watched as his daughter made a home out of it, so stuck to you he didn’t think he could ever separate you again.

“Tsyeym (treasure). That should be her name.”

“Atan… that is her name.”

“And what about this mighty warrior?” Kalin ran to his mother, grabbing onto your leg and holding on, attaching himself to you much like Tsyeym did. You kneeled, with Tsy still in your arms, and did a similar inspection of his son as you just did a few minutes ago. You took him by the hand and twirled him around, taking in every aspect of his being. “Look at this hair! My hair. Tsyeym has your hair, but he has mine. And look at those stripes, just like mummy and daddy, like a little tiger. Come here.” You kissed his entire face, starting with his nose and all around, ending with his human-coloured eyes and the top of his head.

“Why do you taste so sweet? You’re a sweetie pie, aren’t you? You’re mine, my sweet.”

You looked up at Neteyam, like you just had the most brilliant idea. “Kalin!! His name has to be Kalin (Sweet to the taste)!”

Why did you keep doing that? Those were their names, their names you gave them at birth. He was going to ask you what the hell was going on with you, when a loud sound boomed in the sky. It sounded like thunder, but not quite. It must have been thunder, what else could it be? The kids screaming got his undivided attention, and he rushed to their side to comfort them both, grabbing Kalin is his arms and holding him while he saw you doing the same with your baby girl.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s alright, we’re alright.”

“What was that?”

“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”

“I know you are, Atan. I just don’t know what you want me to remember. Can you please tell me?”

“I can’t, Neteyam. You have to figure it out yourself. You have to try harder. We don't have a lot of time. Please. I am here for you.”

The river adventure removed the anxiety rising in Neteyam’s chest, and he concluded the boom he heard was just particularly nasty thunder. Thunderstorms were not uncommon in the forest, and the sooner his babies got used to them and realised they were nothing to be afraid of - the better. There was no reason to let it come between them and the perfect day they were having. After a couple hours, you were all soaked, so much laughter and joy Neteyam’s mouth hurt from how much it was stretching to accommodate the unwavering smile refusing to leave his face. Eventually, his family was all too tired to go on, and you all stretched on the grass, huddled together, arms and legs intertwined so thoroughly, it was impossible to tell who was who anymore.

“Mummy, can you sing for us? It’s nap time!”

“Is it nap time already? Sure, sweets. I can sing.”

In her waters, deep and true

Lie the answers and a path for you

Dive down deep into her sound

But not too far or you'll be drowned

“Neteyam…” you were hunched over your mate’s body, alone with just him, alone at last to pour your soul out and hope he would hear you, hope there was a chance. You had to try.

“Neteyam… please. I know you are in pain, and I know how much this life takes and takes from you. I know you’re probably at peace wherever you are, but you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you. I know it’s selfish, so selfish, but I need you to please come back to me. I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard, but you have to come back. I can’t live knowing all I’ll ever get is scraps of you, scraps of us. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after I’ve seen the future, so clear and bright in my head. Not after knowing everything I’ll lose if I lose you.”

You walked to the edge of the platform and sat down next to your favourite two scientists, that you were so happy to see, and so sad it was always under such undesirable circumstances.

“How is he?”

“Pretty much the same.” You dunked your feet in the water with a sigh, looking at the way the fish swam in between them, some of them tickling you as they went past.

“How are you? We didn’t even get to give you a check and make sure everything’s alright. You gave him a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I did what I had to do.”

“You saved his life, Ace. He was dead and you brought him back to life. You did it.”

“Maybe. Maybe I just revived his heart so he could be a vegetable for the rest of time. Maybe all I did is prolong the inevitable and give his family false hope.”

“Don’t say that. He’ll wake up.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyed in Max’s direction.

“Come on, Max. We’re all scientists here. What are the chances someone comes back from hypoxic-ischaemic coma? Roughly 70% of people die. And of the 30% that make it, most of them have severe brain damage, that impacts most aspects of their lives.”

“That’s human statistics, Ace. Human statistics have no business here on Pandora. You know that. You of all people should know that. You died. You were without oxygen for 30 minutes, and you came back, after chatting to your mum in the afterlife and her telling you the cure for a deadly virus. You should have faith, Ace. Faith in yourself, in Neteyam…faith in Eywa.”

You couldn’t take another word on the subject, not when you were so close to fully breaking down in front of them, so you chose another - easier to digest, if not as hard to talk about.

“Did Jake and Neytiri go get my dad?”

“Yes. They all went. They should be back soon.”

“Lo’ak said you… went to save him. What happened?”

“He… he’s not who I thought he was. Not who I spent my whole life hating. I was wrong about him. I was so wrong.”

You told them everything that happened after he left you the message, and they listened attentively and gasped softly at every turn of events.

“I… I couldn’t save him. He bled out in front of me. I will never get a chance to make it right. He’ll never get a chance to make it right. I wanted him to stay. I thought we could finally be a family. I thought I could allow him to finally have a daughter, a daughter that stays, a daughter that he got to watch live. I wanted him to be a grandpa. I imagined him teaching my kids about Earth, babysitting when Neteyam and I wanted time for ourselves. I don’t know why, but I feel like he would have been the best grandpa. He saved us, he saved me. He was redeeming himself, he could have been one of the people. We were supposed to be a family. I was supposed to have a family.”

You didn’t even realise you were crying until Norm reached over and wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. They didn’t have anything to say. There was nothing, no comforting words, no words of encouragement that would ever mend this, that would ever make this less painful than it was.

Your attention shifted onto the Tsurak that flew above water, a burst of orange in a sea of blue. Behind it were a couple of ilu and in the air, Neytiri’s ikran was flying majestically.

Jake reached your marui first, followed closely by the rest of the Sullys. You got up to help him unload your dad’s body, wrapped beautifully in mangrove leaves and colourful shroud and placed on a stretcher made out of woven tree branches.

He was hidden from you, but it didn’t matter - your imagination was more than enough to paint him right in front of your mind’s eye, bloated and bloodied, wet and dirty from having been left on a rock for 2 days. You just left him there. By himself. You passed out and left your own dad to rot, the same way he did the first time - alone. Your mind was torturing you, the way it always loved to, and you knew this image would be tattooed in your brain, alongside that of Neteyam’s eyes going vacant as you watched, for as long as you lived. No matter how much you healed, no matter how much old nightmares faded, there were always new ones to take their place, new nightmares to show you you will never outrun your trauma. Not now, not soon, not for the rest of your life.

“We talked to Tonowari and Ronal, baby girl. We explained, we told them what Lo’ak and Spider told us, about how your dad fought alongside us, how he saved your lives, and he will be allowed a Metkayina funeral. This way he will be with Eywa.”

Your tears that never ceased multiplied, and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips.

“Thank you.” You ran into Jake’s arms and he hugged you tightly, stroking your hair gently in a comforting gesture. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”

“Of course, kid. Your dad was a good man, and he deserves to be with your mother again.”

You brought him to the Tsahik’s tent, and watched as they undid all the wrappings, until he was in view, and although not as bad as you imagined, he didn’t look good. You knew decomposition worked faster in water than on land, but you never thought you’d have to witness it first hand, and definitely not with your dad.

“Go, kid. We can clean him up.”

You shook your head, not removing your eyes from his body. You left him there, you had to do this.

You knelt on the ground next to him, and Ronal guided you through the required steps and rituals, until he was ready, a few hours later. He looked a lot better when you were done, and you smiled softly, allowing the salty tears to stain your mouth. He looked peaceful. You didn’t think he felt peace in his whole life, so you were at least grateful he could experience it now.

“We will do the funeral ceremony tonight. We will take him to the Cove of the Ancestors after Eclipse.”

Another stabbing pain shot through you, and you wondered how much longer your body would keep going under this amount of strenuous stress. How long until all this heartbreak broke your body down beyond repair?

You returned to your tent, getting ready for the ceremony, allowing your family to paint you in funeral markings, allowing them to dress you in ceremonial garbs, an ornate shawl covering your shoulders - all while you were holding Tuk in your lap. You were cold, you noted absentmindedly. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt cold, but there is was - shivers, like ice water in your veins, running down your spine, extending to each extremity, making a home in your bones.

You needed Neteyam. You needed him to be here, you needed him to be your light, to guide you through this time, to hold you and keep you warm as you had to give your dad to the sea, and say goodbye - forever. But he didn’t budge from his spot on the mat, breathing in and out deeply and regularly. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping.

Neteyam was cold as he woke up from another horrible dream, a similar dream, a deathly dream he couldn’t shake from his mind no matter how much he tried. He kept being pulled in and out of consciousness, it seemed, and he wondered meekly if anything was wrong. Some things felt wrong. Just a little wrong. He took a look at you, buried in his arms, sleeping peacefully next to him, and gasped as your face brought back another dream, so vivid and lucid, it was like it wasn’t a dream at all, like it was a… a memory.

As much as he missed home, Neteyam had to admit little managed to beat waking up in this marui, where the sun was shining through the intricate web of fabrics, creating colourful moving patterns and where the salty air cleared his nose immediately and woke him up with newfound enthusiasm for a new day of discovering all the new ways this place differed from his own. His entire family was fast asleep, and he sighed contently when he felt your breath tickling his neck and your arms and legs draped loosely across his body. He couldn’t help the excited movement of his tail taking you in, knowing he got to wake up next to you every day, that he’d never have to live without this feeling ever again, that he got to call you his mate, his light… his. For life. He kissed the top of you head and watched as you stirred, waking up from your slumber with a haphazard stretch of all your limbs. When your amber eyes met his and your tired smile made its way to your lips, his heart stopped. You were so beautiful.

“Good morning, my love. Did anyone ever tell you it’s ok to not wake up at the crack ass of dawn?”

He smiled, trying to keep quiet so as to not disturb the rest of his family.

“I’m too excited to see you to sleep, Atan.”

You rolled your eyes at him, letting out an amused scoff. He rolled on top of you, pinning you down with his body. You gasped at the feeling of his hard-on rubbing against your core and he smiled at the way your pupils immediately dilated and your breath shallowed, rolling your hips to meet his.

“Atan, it’s the crack ass of dawn, what are you doing?”

“You started it.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Hey, I have had to live for years wanting you and not being able to have you. You have a lot to make up for.”

He laughed again and laughed some more when you pressed your hand tightly against his mouth as his mother turned slightly in her sleep.

“How about we go for a swim, just you and me? Then I’ll make it up to you for as long as you like.”

You raised your head slightly to close the gap in between you and the kiss brought life into him, brought light into every corner of his being until there was nothing left of him but this feeling, the feeling of you overtaking his every sense.

He was panting as the dream faded, panic overtaking him. What was that? It felt so real. So raw. Not a dream. A memory. Your amber eyes, your blue striped skin. He looked at the version of you sleeping in his arms, human, the same human he’s known all his life, the human he fell in love with. The skin he traced with his eyes, the freckles adorning it that Neteyam knew by heart, your hair that flowed softly down your back and tickled his arm where it touched it. Your eyes that were your mother’s, the thing you loved most about yourself - that he loved most about you. The body you left behind when you did your consciousness transfer.

How were you here? In his arms? How was it possible?

“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”

Remember what? What couldn’t he remember? Why couldn’t he remember?

“Ace, come here. Look at this.” You were about to leave for your dad’s funeral when Norm pulled you aside, showing you the EEG scanning Neteyam’s brain waves. “Look at it.”

You did and your eyes widened as your brain processed what it was seeing. “He’s… seizing?”

“Those are ictal epileptiform discharges. He’s definitely seizing.”

“But his body is still.”

“Not all seizures manifest the same way. There are non-motor seizures, as well. But the waves don’t lie, Ace. He’s seizing. And we can’t know for sure, because we didn’t see Kiri’s brain when she seized, but I think it’s the same kind of seizures. She had interictal activity in her prefrontal when we got to her.”

Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting taking in all of the information and trying to process it, at the same time as dealing with the horrible pain shooting through you and the heartbreak of having to bury your dad without your mate by your side. The world was fading around you, but you knew you had to push through, at least until the end of the ceremony.

If Neteyam’s seizures were the same as Kiri’s, maybe the coma was a lot more than what they thought, than what you thought. Maybe it has something to do with Eywa. Could it be? That he was trapped, just like your mum had been? Could it be that you could find him? Finally see him again? That you could get him back?

Your body quickly caught up to you as the pain became unbearable, and you screamed loudly without meaning to as you felt cramping in your abdomen, like life was being torn away from you with every second passing. The marui and everyone around it quickly disappeared from view, and you felt yourself collapse to the ground and into deep slumber. Maybe you could finally rest.

You woke up confused and numb. The world slowly came back into focus, as did your family members going in between you and Neteyam, unable to figure out who they should worry for at any current moment. You glanced at your arm and then above you, and said a silent prayer of gratitude for Norm and Max, who decided to give you some morphine for the pain. As Lo’ak took note of your cognisance, he let out a scream that came out more like a pained yelp.

“She’s awake. She’s awake.”

Jake rushed to your side and took your face in both his hands, alarmingly checking on you, eyes darting over every piece of you they could cover. Then a look of deep sorrow replaced his previous one, and you felt the panic rise in you once more, not enough morphine in the world to keep the ugly feeling at bay.

“What happened?” Was Neteyam ok? Was everyone ok? What else could possibly be wrong? It didn’t feel like there was anything in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.

“You… You passed out, kid.”

Norm’s body was trailing all around you, checking on your vitals and on the other IV you know realised were flowing into your body from various sites.

“Just please tell me. You’re looking at me like you have something to tell me, and I just need to know. Please. I just need to know.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so, so sorry.”

Your entire family encircled you, holding onto you, your arms, your hands, your legs. Looking at you sorrowfully, mournfully, and you felt like you were one sentence away from passing out again.

Max spoke. “The stress… everything you went through the past couple of days, it put a lot of strain on your body. A lot more than it could take.”

“Honey… you had a miscarriage.”

You were wrong, you thought as you felt the consciousness slip away from your grasp once more. There was one thing in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.

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

*poem by Nikki Ursula - Seventy Years of Sleep #4

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

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1000??? yaaaaa bestie!! 🤩😍♥️ omg congrats! this is huge and so deserved, so excited for and prouda youuuuu 😙 was thinking about what to send in and woooo nelly i just know you’re gonna make this so damn good.

🌙 fluffy angst 🌙 friends -> lovers 🌙 “i broke my rules for you” & “i want more than this” 🌙 honestly stevie or eddie! which one speaks to you??

thinking these two are BFFs and it’s like raining out and maybe it’s the reader who’s being hesitant cos she’s afraid to ruin their friendship? or is a commitaphobe?? or somethinggg and one of the boys just can’t take it anymore and shows up all soaked and shit and 🥹🫶🏼

OKAY BABE YOU’RE AMAZING ILY! ♥️♥️♥️ CONGRATS ON 1K!

better late than never. here's 1K words of steve being a dingus. warnings/tags: steve harrington x f!reader; mild smut so 18+; some fluff, angst and steve making poor choices.

Maybe it’s because he’s faced death too many times. Stared it down in the eye and lived to tell the tale. Maybe it’s because it’s easier to pretend the feelings he holds for you aren’t deeper than what they presently are. Maybe it’s because the fear of losing you is greater than the desire he has to be with you. But he knows that’s not true. And it feels wrong to even think that; you’re his best friend, he loves you, he might be in love with you.

He’ll never tell you, though. Love scares him. The last time he loved it swallowed him up and spat him back out. Last time he loved, he watched the person he thought he could see a future with run back into the arms of someone who loved her better than he ever could.

Such is life, isn’t it?

It’s been two years since then and you’re a bright spot in his life. Someone he runs to on his worst days, fills it with laughter, fills it with your easy smiles and candor. You’re comfort to a weary soul, a tether when his mind slips away into the past—into visions of swirling red skies and fluttering wings, of monsters that crawl in a world that no longer is.

It starts the way most of these things do: one night you get a little too cozy, hands start to wander, sticky kisses press to exposed skin. He gasps as your mouth slides along sensitive flesh, watches as your eyes roll into the back of your skull as he sinks in minutes after he watches you fall apart on his tongue, writhing with your thighs splayed around his shoulders. It’s meant to be a one time thing, but these things never are.

One time turns to two, and soon it’s every weekend, and before long it’s months of roaming hands in dark alleyways after having a drink at a bar, it’s him pinning you against the door to his bedroom and watching you fall apart around his fingers, and right now it’s your gasps filling the cabin of his car as you fold against his chest, skirt high up on your thighs, his softening cock still inside of you, heartbeats slowing down into a normal rhythm, melting into the steady drum of rain splashing against the windows.

There’s nothing normal about this time, though. It’s different. You lean back in his lap, eyes hazy with your release, lazy lips sliding languidly over his. He sighs against your mouth, tongue licking into you, drawing out the last remnants of your pleasure, before your hands come to rest on his shoulders and you whisper, “I want more than this.”

“You want more than this…” He’s not understanding. And then again, he’s never asked. You’ve never talked about it. These trysts, these moments between you, they’ve never disrupted your friendship. They may have blurred it, blurred the lines of it, but you’d never talked about more. Always some unspoken agreement between the two of you; at least until now.

“I want to be with you, Stevie. I don’t want to hide behind our friends' backs. I…I want this. Us.” Your voice breaks off at the end, and in that he knows he’s already made a mistake. Because his mouth drops open at your words and he can’t find it in himself to speak.

He doesn’t speak for some time. Therein lies the problem. He realizes too late as your bottom lip trembles and you nod stiffly. As you slide your skirt back down over your thighs and climb off of him. As you open the backseat door and slip out of his car and into the pouring rain.

“Where are you going?!” He’s stumbling out of the car, buckling his pants as he races through the darkened streets behind your trembling form.

You whirl around to face him and the hurt on your features is a lightning bolt to his chest. A knife to the gut he’s not prepared for. “Home!”

“Let me drive you!” His voice is drowned out by the thunderous drops lashing against the ground. Drowned out by the own frantic throb of his heart. “Baby, slow down!”

You do better than that. You stop, and it’s only because your face crumples and you start to cry. The sight alone nearly kills him. Crushes the wind clear from his lungs. His arms curl around your shoulders and drag you close, and he wonders if you can feel him shaking, because he’s terrified when he speaks. When he whispers, “I broke my rules for you.”

“W-what do you—”

“I love you.”

Three words. Three words he’s not said in years. Three words that someone had made him believe he’d never hear. Never earn. Three words with the weight to crush him—to send him crashing like he had so long ago. Three words that have you clutching at the front of his shirt, teary eyes meeting his face. You’re both shivering, both drenched to the bone, but it doesn’t matter now.

None of it matters except for you.

Maybe it’s been that way all along.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t done this in so long and I’m probably shit at it, you’ll have to be patient, but I love you and I’m…I want this. I want us, too. I’m just—I’m scared and I—”

“I love you, too.” Your lips brush his, soft and delicate, arms curling around his waist to drag him close. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? I just want you.”

And so you kiss under a streetlight, clothes sticky and plastered to your bodies, hair stuck to skin, but neither of you cares.

Nothing else matters.

Only this. Only now.

#lunas1kfollowercelebration🌙#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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amazingmaeve · 2 years

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SHELBY SISTER/FAMILY FIC RECOMMENDATIONS!

these stories don’t have a pairing, they are just platonically with the Shelby sister fics. so don’t forget to give them likes and comments of all your praise because the author DESERVES it!

Nelly Shelby ➵ @lovelyalways

who’s watching ➵ @zodiyack

anna’s secret ➵ @moral-turpitudes

bragging rights ➵ @nineteenninety-six

summary ➵ Shelby sister would learn to say John's name first because is the easiest to pronounce and he would brag about it until his last day.

smoke ➵ @theshelbyclan

summary ➵ The youngest Shelby sister is grieving the loss of her brother John and she’s spiralling out of control in the process, but can’t talk about any of it (a lot of angst and drama)

mine ➵ @theshelbyclan

summary ➵ When she took a job at the night club, all the second Shelby sister wanted was to be in control of her own life. Unfortunately, her brothers don’t approve.

cursed ➵ @theshelbyclan

summary ➵ After Grace’s death, Tommy is still mourning his wife. And when he sees his baby sister wearing her old things, before he can stop himself, he snaps.

the black hand ➵ @theshelbyclan

summary ➵ After I lost my twin brother, John, a part of me died as well and I could never go back to how we Shelby’s were before

royalty ➵ @randomoutsiders

summary ➵ one where the boys are sick of treating you like you’re royalty.

no one left ➵ @toms-cherry-trees

summary ➵ Even when the world is black and the ground threatens to crack underneath his feet, Tommy always has someone to count with, has he?

funeral ➵ @zablife

summary ➵ After Tommy returns home from the war, he finds his youngest sister changed, the stress of the war years wearing on her. When he recognizes the symptoms of her loneliness and depression he tries to assure her everything will be alright.

the one you never knew ➵ @toms-cherry-trees

summary ➵ Thomas Shelby never looked to those beneath him. Not even his youngest sister, the one he never got round to. And time has come for payback

innocence taken ii ➵ @unknowntoyou2205

summary ➵ Thomas Shelby has been the sole carer for his baby sister since he returned from the war, meaning that he has always been overly protective of her. At age 16, she tries to be more independent without the help of her brothers but when she gets attacked one night, she ends up pregnant and when her brother finds out, he doesn't realize that it wasn't by choice, and regrets it when Polly tells him the bad news.

when was the last time you ate? ➵ @ukrainianmotherfucker

summary ➵ She just wanted to be noteced. And Thomas did.

portrait ➵ @geekwritersworld

summary ➵ The most dangerous family in Birmingham seems to be unfazed by everything thrown at them, except the loss of their youngest Shelby.

little artist ➵ @geekwritersworld

summary ➵ Hello, I could ask one in which the younger sister of the Shelbys, maybe she is 14/15 years old wants to be an artist and she has a lot of talent but the family does not know but the art teacher one day calls the Shelbys at school to talk about her sister and they discover her talent and that she received a letter from a private school in London to study on full scholarship. Thank you for your time

#shelby sister #shelby!sister #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders recommendations #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders

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namusthetic · 1 year

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The Weird Relatives at the Family Reunion

Half the rumors at the dining table involve them, but they attend family reunions just to cause drama. Their alliance still stands, and gets stronger each gathering.

No.1 - The Chaotic

Is made 70% out of anger issues and 30% out of spite

Does not care about people's opinions and judgement

Has no patience

Mom friend, scolds you first and then takes care of you anyway

Has their life organized, knows what they want

Only listens to a few selected people whom they trust

Devours sexists for breakfast

Their resistance to caffeine is the same as that of a 5-year-old to sugar

"Bold of you to assume I've reached my peak of dumbass"

Avoids physical touch

Their love language is food giving / cooking

A public danger when driving (and in general)

Eats cereals from the box

Falls completely silent when angry

Probably made a deal with the devil for clear skin

Hates the government with a passion

Listens to hard rock, metal and techno, not necessarily in this order

Helps children with mischievous plans

Ready to throw hands and chew people out if someone is getting bullied

Slapstick humor

Plots new, fun ways of causing mayhem

Catchphrase: "Improvise, attack, overcome."

Playlist:

Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

all the good girls go to hell by Billie Eilish

Cigarette Ahegao by Penelope Scott

LA ESPADA by Eternal Raijin

Scopin by Kordhell

Besos I by Bo Burnham

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

My Ordinary Life by The Living Tombstone

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

spy? by WHOKILLEDXIX

Let's Groove by Earth, Wind & Fire

No.2 - The Neutral

Always looks half asleep or annoyed or both

Sarcasm and dark humor

Done with everyone's shit

"save the bees, punch a racist"

comes off as kind and easy-going, but would watch the world burn and not bat an eye

Is inclined to tollerate you better if you offer them coffee or cookies or if you start talking about books

Will cover for you if they like you, tell on you if they don't, you'll never know which one it is until the last second

They'll sit down in a spot away from the family chaos to either ignore or judge everyone

Has a keen eye for body language and nonverbal communication

Bad at managing anxiety and stress

"binarism is for computers, do I look like a fuckin MacBook to you?"

Says they don't like kids but carries candy in their pockets for their nephews

Commitment and trust issues

Starts yelling when they get really mad

Their love languages are acts of service and quality time

Not easy to impress, unless you start the conversation quoting Shakespeare or Dante

Passive aggressive

Listens to literally anything except country music

Hates parents who don't take their children seriously, so they're always ready to lend a ear and give advice

Helps no. 1 plotting by giving technical details and suggestions

Catchphrase: "Oh, I haven't told them good morning simply because I don't think they deserve one"

Playlist:

These Times by Far Caspian

Treehouse by Alex G, Emily Yacina

Tired by beabadoobee

Summer Child by Conan Gray

Young by Vacations

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now by The Smiths

The Adults Are Talking by The Strokes

O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Sex, Drugs, Etc. by Beach Weather

Bitter Taste by Billy Idol

Obstacles by Syd Matters

No.3 - The Lawful

Sensitive, must protect

Love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch

Cannot cook for the life of them

Made of sunshine and rainbows

"Please, assume I have dignity"

Sweet but awkward

Wears sunglasses to hide the eye bags

Always rushing somewhere

Loves children

Takes things personally and thus gets hurt too often

Quotes cringy positivity lines

Hard working

Always brings something to eat

Is actually the most insecure about themselves and their body

No.1 and no.2 are ready to physically fight anyone who is mean to them

Cheers you up and has your back

Ready to forgive and forget, rarely blames people for stuff

Too willing to give second chances

Gives stern scoldings if they're mad

When something goes wrong they take it badly and get really sad

A cinnamon roll inside and outside

Knows how to play several instrument so they sing and play for children

Tries to keep no.1 and no.2 from achieving world domination

Catchphrase: "Even if the world is big, you're enough for it"

Playlist:

El Mismo Sol by Alvaro Soler

Brazil by Declan McKenna

OUR SUMMER by TXT

Baby I'm Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Hey Lover! by Wabie

Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles

NIGHT DANCER by imase

HOME by BTS

Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse

Bossa No Sé by Cuco ft. Jean Carter

Swing Lynn by Harmless

Promise by Jimin

#moodboard #aestethic #character aesthetics #types of people #tag your aesthetic #character concept #tag yourself #song suggestions #playlist #chaotic #lawful #neutral

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mk-writes-stuff · 1 month

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Character Voices Tag

Rules: rewrite a line in the voices of your OCs, then come up with a new line for the next person!

Thanks @kaylinalexanderbooks, you got me twice! So I’ll do this for both!

Line 1: “I don’t like you.”

Belladonna: “You’re being quite rude. Please excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

Cassie: “Honestly, you fucking suck.”

Nellie: “I’m going to go spend time with someone else. I don’t care for your company.”

Cassiopeia: “Either change your behavior, or I’ll remove you from my sight.”

Narcissus: “You are the worst person I’ve ever encountered. I cannot believe your audacity, your attitude, your disruptiveness, and your incredible lack of proper manners. Are you trying to draw attention from me with your despicable behavior? Are you jealous of me? You should be. You’re ugly, and…” [insert 20 min rant about every flaw he thinks the person could possibly have]

Ricinus: “You are intolerable. Leave at once.”

Goldenrod: “Darling, your conduct leaves much to be desired. Perhaps we can work on this?”

Stellaris: “I don’t like you very much.”

Rhys: *says nothing but stands uncomfortably*

Line 2: “It’s been a long day.”

Belladonna: “It’s been quite the busy day.”

Cassie: “Fuck it, I’m ordering pizza. I deserve it after today.”

Nellie: “Today was long, but it was good!” *yawns*

Cassiopeia: “I’m finished work for the day, do not disturb me further.”

Narcissus: “That was quite the day. There almost wasn’t enough of me to go around.” *flops onto a chaise lounge and snaps his fingers for a clone to entertain him*

Ricinus: “That will be all for today.” (Even if things aren’t done)

Goldenrod: “Well, some days are more tiring than others. Come, entertain me, I’ve had a long day.”

Stellaris: “Can I go read about Old World history now? I’m tired.”

Rhys: “There was a lot to do today, but I got it done! Mostly…”

Tagging @faeriecinna @televisionjester @aalinaaaaaa @somethingclevermahogony if you want to jump in (and anyone else who’d like to participate)! Your line is “Why is everything such a mess?”

#writeblr #tag game #seven station chronicles

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undreaming-fanfiction · 7 months

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My lovely readers, I swear I'm not dead. My work has been crazy and I had almost a month of health complications. Plus I'm working on my Big Bang fic! Some of you will be very happy about that one...

But now, some AU ideas.

Pantheon of gods isn't really set. Sure, you have functions of gods like the god of the dead, of the sun and so on, but the given god isn't a single entity. Instead, it's reminescent of a jury duty. You get your notification and get transported to your godly domain. For the time being. Could be a year, could be ten. And if you think you're not qualified? You're wrong.

Former bully Steve who withdrew from everyone following his fall from grace becomes a god of mending relationships. He stands in front of arguing couples, broken families and estranged siblings, hands on hips, perfecting his no bullshit policy. "I don't care if Aunt Nellie stole your grandmother's silverware, Ethel. Silverware is stupid. But what is even stupider than silverware is sulking about it for decades even after her children returned those stupid forks and spoons. Now, repeat after me: I will go to my niece's birthday party and I won't act like a bigoted cunt there. Oh, you take issue with my language? Well, I take issue with your attitude, Ethel."

Eddie, who considers himself a coward, becomes the god of unexpected courage. He appears in the time of highest need and usually panics way more than the person he's supposed to help. "Uh. Oh fuck. Shit. So...this isn't great, but you can do it. I think. Look, public speaking is a bitch, but guess what? If you don't go up there and say what exactly is wrong with this school, it will be another jock praising the local equality and friendly spirit and all the crap you know isn't true. So you know what? Fuck them! Go up there and tell them that the bullying isn't gone, they're just hiding it better, and watch how the smiles drain from their faces. Make them pay, now go go go!"

It all goes fairly well until they are both sent to Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley. Eddie is working his ass off to give Robin courage to confront Nancy about avoiding her after she let it slip she's a lesbian. In the meantime, Steve's chewing Nancy out for being spineless in her relationships and "I don't care if you have a sexuality crisis, Nance, Robin doesn't deserve this behavior from you and if you don't go to her house and tell her you're sorry for making her feel like you hated her for her sexuality, maybe kiss her in the process, I don't care, I'll do something drastic. Just watch me."

And maybe Steve and Eddie make the two girls realize there isn't a problem, that they actually like each other a lot. Maybe they go for a drink to celebrate the job well done. And maybe, after they get released from their godly duties, they find each other in the real world and use some of those negotiation skills and courage to find someone to share their life with.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie au #ronance au

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maziodynez · 13 days

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wuthering heights posting #122938: on the abuse being taken seriously

so in an earlier post i said that most of (aka nearly all) the wuthering heights adaptations fail because not a single filmmaker* nor screenwriter takes the abuse that heathcliff and catherine face (at the hands of both their father and hindley, because yes, hitting your children with the rod, neglecting them, and saying you can't possibly love them and, for example, saying to your daughter's face that she's the worst of your children [mr earnshaw's doing] and forcing your adoptive brother into servitude (and there are many articles about this especially in relation to heathcliff's race---i really recommend Maja-Lisa von Sneidern's article Wuthering Heights and the Liverpool Slave Trade for more on this, specifically their posit that "In the novel the Heights, corrupted by the introduction of the racially other [Heathcliff], is the place where the figures of a system of bondage work out their relationships." (Sneidern, 174)) , flogging him, and withholding food from your younger sister as punishment [hindley's doing] are both repeated instances abuse, in different degrees of intensity, but nonetheless have the same impact: it drives heathcliff and catherine's codependency. but this isn't what i solely want to talk about: what i want to actually talk about is heathcliff and catherine's (ultimately) world-shattering decision to visit thrushcross grange. *note: when i say film/filmmakers/screenwriters this includes both cinema film as in movies that both got a mainstream release in theatres and made-for-tv movies and tv miniseries. i'm too lazy to type out "film and tv" every time.

So, in the book, since this is being told from Nelly's (the housekeeper's) point of view, we don't actually know why exactly in the moment Heathcliff and Catherine choose to go to Thrushcross Grange (the manor home of the substantially wealthier Linton family), but it's said later:

""Where is Miss Catherine?" [Nelly] cried hurriedly. "No accident, I hope?" "At Thrushcross Grange," [Heathcliff] answered; "and I would have been there too, but that had not the manners to ask me to stay."... "...What in the world led you to wandering to Thrushcross Grange?" .... [Heathcliff] continued: "Cathy and I escaped from the wash-house to have a ramble at liberty, and getting a glimpse of the Grange lights, we thought we would just go and see whether the Lintons passed their Sunday evenings shivering in corners, while their father and mother sat eating and drinking, and singing and laughing, and burning their eyes out before the fire. Do you think they do? Or reading sermons, and being catechized by their manservant, and set to learn a column of Scripture names, if they don't answer properly?"" (WH, 50-51) (of the complete and unabridged longmeadow press 1983 edition)

Usually, this paragraph is framed in film in one of two ways:

either we actually see this exchange between nelly and heathcliff

heathcliff's reason for why they go to thrushcross grange is shown in either heathcliff or catherine (usually catherine) stating whilst they're out on the moors that she would like to go visit thrushcross grange

In both instances, in most of the film adaptations I have seen, their visit to Thrushcross Grange is played off as a joke---or at least, Heathcliff's reasoning as to why they went is played off as a joke.

Partially, this may be because Nelly doesn't take the abuse that Heathcliff and Catherine face seriously, either: in the very next sentence, she says, ""Probably not," I responded. "They are good children, no doubt, and don't deserve the treatment you receive, for your bad conduct."" (WH, 51) Nelly, an unreliable narrator in case you couldn't tell, vocally does not like Heathcliff nor Catherine, even from when they're children. Because she as a character believes that Heathcliff and Catherine deserve the abuse they face, I feel like many have assumed that Emily Bronte as an author was either implying that the abuse was 1) not that serious or not that big of a deal or was 2) definitely deserved because clearly, even as children and young teens, Heathcliff and Catherine were just that evil. Thus, a lot of filmmakers either consciously or subconsciously utilize that thinking as well. And of course, the other part of it is that the filmmakers themselves have decided that the abuse is either no big deal or is something they don't want to spend a lot of time analyzing.

However, I think that this moment, the decision for Heathcliff and Catherine to visit Thrushcross Grange... I think it's honestly really huge, and honestly really underrated as far as potential scenes to have between them. If this situation was treated with the gravitas it deserves, as in: two very abused and traumatized children see the manor house of the very rich family in the distance, and say to each other, "I wonder how they live. Do they have to suffer like we do?"

And to make matters even deeper (and worse for them), the result of this is that Catherine gets her leg mangled by a dog, and her and Heathcliff's relationship is irrevocably changed by her experiences at the Grange. For five weeks, Catherine is free from her abusive brother, the stress of essentially fending for herself because of his neglect of her, and she gets access to all of the upper class amenities and things she's never had access to before in her life, with people doting on her who genuinely care about her recovery and health. It's no wonder she comes back changed: now she's acutely aware of the life she could lead--if she abandons Wuthering Heights (by marrying into the Lintons) and leaves Heathcliff to fend for himself. Even so, though...she still doesn't want to leave Heathcliff in the dust. Even when presented with the prospect of escaping her abusive household, she only thinks of ways she can use the Lintons' money to help Heathcliff escape with her. AND OF COURSE, we have to talk about how Catherine (white woman) gets the opportunity to escape essentially handed to her and Heathcliff (brown man) has to carve out his own path and do all of the hard work himself and make his own fortune....

IDK!!! I'm RAMBLING!!! but there's a LOT HERE!!!

#vero.txt #t #vero's wuthering heights meta #abuse cw

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falloutnewnobody · 2 months

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Im back and come bearing Chris Haversam who, upon the first time playing through game got so sad that i couldnt have him as a companion. Like fr I just wanna get him therapy and give him a hug. Like literally my boy got bullied for like building machines more that learning how to shoot guns and got bullied for it and like… he really is such a sweet guy why cant he be buddies with the followers. Hes so goob-coded and sopping wet i just want him to be happy

Also wild implications for the boomers since he was from the same vault as them. Like, did we potentially meet someone that bullied him? How does he feel about Mother Pearl and the other boomers that werent his tormentors? Did he leave before the mass exodus to nellis or did he leave earlier? Aaaaaah so many questions!

Chris Haversham was done dirty by the narrative and stand by that. I actually love the ieda of him maybe hopefully someday joining the followers. at least he gets to be besties with Manny Vargas in Novac in his good ending (even tho manny vargas was cannonically kind of a shitty friend from what we see in game but shh its fine its fine there living the dream together) but like he's so pathetic he deserves the whole world. he really did just spend his whole life being lied to, tormented, and kicked around like that's so sad.

i never knew about or maybe just forgot about the whole him coming from the same vault as the Boomers thing but DAMN does that make him like so much more pathetic and tragic. He's such a sickly sopping wet mess of a man. I want to wrap him up in a blanket and give him a hug and some hot soup.

#fnv #rambles #fallout new vegas

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thewhumpcaretaker · 3 months

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The Broken Veil: Chapter 2 - The Price to Pay

Special thanks to this Reddit post for helping me follow the canon timeline as faithfully as possibly until the points that they diverge.

TW: suicide attempt, negative self-talk, grief, dissociation, canon-typical violence

Summary: John Wick has just agreed to kill Gianna D'Antonio, repaying the marker that gave him a life with Helen. However, Helen is trying to contact John from the afterlife, to show him that it is possible to stop the cycle of violence – not by forfeiting his own life, but by creating a fundamental shift in international systems and perhaps even the balance of good and evil in this world. But he doesn’t have to do it alone. She’s coming back.

“Heathcliff, if I were you, I’d go stretch myself over her grave and die like a faithful dog. The world is surely not worth living in now, is it?” - Nelly Dean, Wuthering Heights

John sets the rose down quickly and glances around the room, as if he expects to see a ghost. But of course he doesn’t expect that. This can’t be happening.

Don’t try to figure out whether it’s happening. Think about the message. What does it matter whether it was Helen or not? The question is, if she really could hear him, would she accept his offering of love in this form? In the form of killing an old friend and handing a win to a man like Santino? In the form of deepening his own damnation? No. Offer not accepted.

But this is all I have to give. His fists clench in frustrated confusion as he sinks into a chair. He’s been lying to himself because he’s desperate, because he has nothing left. What do you want from me, Helen? The only other option I see is death. Maybe he should just take that instead. If someone has to give their life for the time he spent with her, it should be him. He never deserved her to begin with.

There’s no time for this. It’s almost 6 PM. He has less than two hours to get ready and get to the concert at the D’Antonio Estate. He’ll figure something out. Just go, and figure something out.

***

She tried to reach him over and over again.

She tried to reach him when he was taking a sledgehammer to the concrete in the basement.

She tried to reach him as he stalked Iosef to the Red Circle.

She tried to reach him whenever he thought of her.

She tried to reach him as he rampaged over that fucking car.

She tried to reach him every time she felt something slam almost fatally into his body, whether bullet or fist. And that was quite a few times.

But the time had not yet come. She can see pieces of things, and she knows that she will come to him in Rome if she comes at all. It’s a matter of gathering her strength, and perhaps something more important, more like timing. Or fate.

This was the closest attempt yet. She celebrates an enormous victory. It required proportionally enormous effort. But she will have to keep trying. “The only other option I see is death.” It would be so easy for John to get it into his head that she’s given up on him. If only she had some way to be more specific, to use her own words rather than stolen snippets from his surroundings, but words are almost impossible. Almost. They feel so close now.

She can hardly tell if she is more exhausted or excited or hopeful. She cannot tell if her exhaustion and excitement and hope are her own or John’s. But she is herself, she has a self. It is almost like…existing.

She keeps clawing forward, towards that surface, towards that glass. “Forward,” yes, “towards.” Direction. Motion. Location. Effort. These are returning to her.

***

Sheer dread. It’s bad to go into a job not knowing whether you plan to finish it. It’s beyond bad. It’s lunacy. But he’s wearing hundreds of thousands of dollars in other people’s money just between the suit and the weapons, which feel suddenly heavy. There’s a good chance Santino’s people are watching, to keep him in line. To walk away at this stage…the humiliation alone is formidable, let alone the logistical challenges. And why? Because a ghost told him to - maybe. It’s lunacy. No. Finish it. Or at least keep clawing forward in denial for as long as possible.

His mouth is dry as he stalks towards the unguarded gate to the catacombs under the D’Antonio Estate, a hulking, dark shadow in time with the eight o'clock church bells. On autopilot, he places guns throughout the ruined tunnels, to collect on the way back after she’s dead. Distant music filters down through the rubble and stone. What he is doing now…this is a part of the kill. The kill is in progress. What the fuck is he going to do when he’s standing in front of the target?

He sees her, moving towards her chambers, and follows. Cassian, her bodyguard, walks at her side. He knows Cassian too – another old friend. Their gaits are easily attuned and their glances a little more tender than the role requires. And John…John is here to sever the link between them, to plunge her into the abyss where Cassian can never see her again. At the very least, Cassian should be spared if he can make it happen.

It’s his luck that she dismisses him from her side as she goes to her boudoir.

***

And Gianna is alone.

She circles the luxurious pool surrounded by aromatic candles, thinking over the day, allowing herself to slip into a moment of relaxation as she dabs at her makeup…and she sees John Wick in the mirror.

His body is perfectly poised; there is no feature of his expression that could be deemed any more or less composed than any other. Yet there is something profoundly and openly…embarrassed about the way he carries himself. Its total detachment betrays a sore spot to detach from. The way he waits to speak, arms hanging at his sides…if he were not about to end her life, she would say he looked sheepish.

“John.” The way she says it sounds like, “No, god, no.”

“Gianna.”

She turns to face him. “There was a time not so long ago in which I considered us as friends.”

“I still do.” He steps smoothly around the pool, making no effort to conceal the pistol in his hand.

“Yet here you are. [In Italian] Death’s very emissary.” She surveys him, all in black, his feet planted. “What brought you back, John?”

He places the words in front of her, more than speaks. “A marker.”

“Held by?”

He looks almost pained. “Your brother.” There’s pity for her…no, there’s real sorrow for her.

She glances away. Anger can’t rise too far in her, because of course this was coming. She should have known. The only thing to do now is to face it fighting. She paces closer to him and meets his gaze head on. “Tell me, John. This marker…is it how you got out?” A nod. “And what was her name? This woman whose life has ended my own?” She laces her voice with more disdain than she truly feels.

“Helen.” As always, a bitter joy stirs in him, just to say it. There’s wonder in that word.

“Helen,” Gianna repeats, lightly, almost mockingly. His head tilts as if he wants desperately to turn away from her, as if it pains him to hear say it like that. Yes, this is the right spot to hit. “This Helen,” as she casually approaches him even closer, within arm’s length now, “was she worth the price that you now seek to pay?”

It’s too difficult for him to speak and she gets another nod. How nice. “Now, let me tell you what happens when I die. Santino will lay claim to my seat at the Table. He will take New York. And you,” glancing up and down him in disgust, “will have been the one who gifted it to him.” Now her disdain is real and she lets him read all of it, then turns and walks back to the mirror.

She throws off her fur coat. His half squint seems to beg for mercy. If she would take a swing at him, if she would run, this would be so much easier. But she has no intention of making this easy for him. She lets her glittering gown slip to the floor, restraining the movement of his eyes, which lock respectfully onto her face. Slowly, she circles up the steps above the pool, and looks vulnerably over her shoulder at his unmoving figure, letting her curls fall to the center of her back. “What would your Helen think about that, John?” He walks towards her involuntarily. He’s afraid of what she might do. Good.

She takes up her concealed knife, and wades into the pool. He looks desperate, circling her as if hypnotized. She can see his longing to stop this. She turns away from him, totally exposed to gunfire, then looks abruptly back over her should, hovering the knife above her wrist. “What would your Helen think about you?”

It cuts deeper than her knife ever could.

“Stop.” She can’t quite believe it. He is too well trained – why would he let her get under his skin? This is her way of fighting back in her final moments, but for it to work…well, that’s almost a disappointment. More likely, this is a trick.

“So you can do it yourself?” He shakes his head. What a puppy. He looks utterly at a loss, and she can see now how fast he’s breathing. The moment stretches forever.

“I asked her what she would think.” He reaches into his breast pocket…and pulls out an orange rose. “Early today, I burned this rose as a symbol of the kill. Now it is whole again.”

Gianna looks at him in confusion, in pity. He’s lost his mind. Losing Helen destroyed him.

He places the rose on the surface of the pool, turns, and he’s walking away.

Her voice echoes down the stone archways after him. “John! You are prepared to face your death?” He stops. “You know what it means to deny the marker.”

“The price that I now seek to pay…is one life. Mine.”

Tragic, what has happened to this once-vicious man. She opens her mouth to speak, to call him back to his senses as she would want someone to do for her if she was ever so debased by love, but self-preservation halts her. Let him walk.

He walks.

***

It's a short walk out of the catacombs, into the palatial concert venue where strobing spotlights rise from the ruins into the blackness of night. There are so many people. Dancers in their 20s, old widows with grandchildren at home, couples, politicians, musicians. The sight of them is suddenly unbearable. He just stands there, still too close to the archway leading into the restricted access area in the catacombs.

“What would your Helen think of you?”

“Offer not accepted.”

The surprise on Gianna’s face, the relief, the purity of walking away…It drives home to him how much wrong he’s done. How many times he didn’t walk away.

I’m a murderer. I’m nothing but a murderer, and she would never accept it. I failed her. I can’t even bring myself to regret them all. Iosef, Viggo…but then so many of my own friends. And strangers. Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers… How many people…? So many bodies… I don’t know how many people I’ve killed. Most men on this Earth haven’t killed even once and would never forget it.

He hates that a man like that has ever laid eyes on Helen. He hates that he’s ever touched her with the hands that he’s seen around so many throats, gouging out eyes, pulling triggers…over and over again, so many times that it’s muscle memory. He hates, and it makes him want to kill. He wants to kill, and he can’t.

He can’t kill others. But himself…a man may do what he likes with his own life.

John walks slowly forward. The world is glazed over with dissociation and the music is so far away. Is anything real? That stage, a kaleidoscope of lights. What a strange stage. That depthless black sky. What a strange sky. Has he really done all those things?

Did Helen really return the rose?

Are these people around him the people that he’s killed? People that he will kill?

“John?”

He’s pulled back to himself. “Cassian.”

“You working?” Cassian’s face says he sure as hell hopes not.

He hesitates. It might as well be Cassian. He’d rather die by the hand of a man in love than by the hand of Santino’s men. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a long, horrible pause. “Good night?” Is she dead?

“Afraid so.” That will piss him off enough to fire.

There’s rage in Cassian’s eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He fires. John fires back at the same instant, knowing the body armor will hold. It’s a mere opening threat but it still hurts enough to level them both instantly to the ground. Pain shoots through his abdomen and awakens something in him. He scrambles backward and runs. Other guards are helping Cassian to his feet and he turns the other way, running for Gianna.

John doesn’t question why he’s running, or why he’s still clinging to his gun. All he knows is that the adrenaline has hit, sickening, sweet, instinctual, pulling him back into his body. God, he’s so afraid to die.

The guards pursue him. Cold metal in his hands as he vaults over a railing into the back of the stage. Get back to the gate, across the crowd. They’re on him as he stumbles forward onto the stage, he puts one down. The crowd goes wild, thinking it’s part of the show. He jumps down and he’s firing among them now, guards are falling dead in their midst. Screams drown in the techno beat. Dashing forward into an open stretch, almost to the gate, but they close around him from all sides. One, two, three, four, five, six dead as he pushes through, relentless.

He takes cover against a ruined wall to reload. Almost there. A gun swings around the corner into his face and he fires on instinct, then keeps firing at the next, then at four more coming at him from the side, flipping bodies to the ground, holding a man’s head flush against the gun to ensure he stays down. No one has eyes on him now as he lays against the wall taking shelter in the shadows, a monster at one with the darkness, too wired to bother quieting his ragged breathing. The catacombs leading to the gate are right across from him. He looks both ways and plunges forward into the near darkness of the tunnel, pierced only by periodic floodlights for safety.

For a moment, he’s still spinning with the gun at eye level, hyper-vigilant, but the tunnel’s empty. He’s alone. Finally, he allows himself to groan in pain and clutch at his own chest, stumbling backwards, miserable. At his touch, crushed rounds fall from the bulletproof lining and scatter, tinging on the rocky floor.

He killed again. He’s bad at not killing, and it’s not the sort of thing you get to try and fail at. He failed immediately. He panicked, and he didn’t want to let go of her memory, and he killed. The cost of his existence is other people’s lives, and he doesn’t have the willpower to stop it.

He feels worse than he did after walking away from Gianna. Lower than low.

The tide of reality is going out again. This is bad. He’s in a stone tunnel under the D’Antonio estate, but is he? Or is he in a misty void? Are these his arms, his hands? Is he hallucinating that strange vastness that opens out beyond the dark? Not even a vastness, but…a region without space, without distance or time. He sees it as if through glass.

He beats at his vest where the bruises are already forming, trying to flood himself with another hit of adrenaline. It’s just enough to get him walking again, staggering along the escape route he memorized a few hours ago, forward into that depthless region fazing in and out around him.

There’s someone standing in his path. Ares. The two size each other up at a great distance, a skylight pouring a street lamp’s yellow fire across them from above.

Santino must have sent someone to eliminate him if he doesn't follow through. He calls to her, “I’m done. For good.”

“You’re right about that.”

A long pause. Then his gun clatters to the ground and he drops to his knees. “I accept my fate.”

“You of all people?”

He nods.

Ares squints suspiciously but she raises her pistol. She fires.

Author's note: If that got you down, don't worry - the comfort is coming soon.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john x helen #john wick whumpee #gianna d’antonio #whump fic #emotional whump #angst #hurt/no comfort #assassin whumpee #ao3 crosspost

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debbiechanclub · 10 months

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Hit Me Like Bang (and Now I'm Never Looking Back), Part 1

A “Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans” fic

Pairings: David Finlay x OFC (with some past!El Phantasmo x OFC and Jay White angst) Word Count: 6k Warnings: ANGST. Language, alcohol use. ANGST.

Nellie's been spinning her wheels in Stardom for months and has never felt more alone. But then David Finlay returns to Japan with a chip on his shoulder and Gedo in his corner, and everything changes.

TMHWMP Timeline | Masterlist

Read it on AO3

A/N: A quick but important note! This is the concluding fic of the "Take My Hand, Wreck My Plan" series, in the sense that it details Nellie's endgame. However, there are more "prequel" fics to come that will go more into how Nellie and everyone else got to this point, including (obviously) what went down in all her previous relationships (and I promise it will all make sense!). I'm actually so incredibly proud of this fic, as well as this OC and the entire rewrite of this series, and I'm so excited to give Nellie the completed story she deserves after more than two years of writing and creating it. I absolutely adore her, and I hope you all enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it for you.

tag squad: @aussiearrow @cowboyslariat @knifepervert @caranoirs @rusevday @missbrownstone @meteora-fc @bec0m @thatgirlforever5 @rocca09 @aussiespam

Tuesday, March 21, 2023 Tokyo, Japan

It was 11:07 p.m. when David got to Nellie’s apartment. She’d been impatiently awaiting his arrival for over two hours, ever since he’d texted that he was on his way back to Tokyo via the bullet train from Nagaoka. But that had been a familiar feeling for her over the last two weeks. Impatience; eagerness; desire. All surrounding David, this this new dark-haired Gedo-backed Bullet Club version of him that had shown up at the New Japan Cup and shocked everyone.

But not Nellie; she wasn’t as shocked by it as everyone else. She’d noticed this evolution happening in David ever since he’d returned to Japan for the G1 Climax 32 last summer, since the NJPW World Television Title Tournament in the fall, slowly and quietly but surely—and he’d confided every one of his frustrations in her. How he’d always been treated like an outsider. How no one had ever taken him seriously. How he needed to work twice as hard just to prove he was half as good as his father. So no, Nellie wasn’t as shocked as everyone else when this version of David Finlay had shown up with a chip on his shoulder and disposed of Tomohiro Ishii. She’d seen it in him. And she wasn’t shocked by her charged response to it—to him—either. She’d waited five long months for him to come back to her. She wasn’t waiting any longer.

She sank down next to him on the couch, her body angled toward his, her left leg bent atop the cushion so that her knee grazed his thigh, and handed him a glass of whiskey, neat. She’d offered him a drink as soon as he’d arrived; he’d looked like he could use it. He kicked it back all at once and set the empty glass on her coffee table. When he leaned back, he rested his hand on her leg. It sent a tingle up her spine.

“Did you watch the final?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah; as soon as I got home.”

“And?”

“And Sanada got lucky. Seriously. Either of you could have won at any moment.”

They sat in silence for a few long seconds. Nellie could practically see David replaying the end of the match in his mind, trying to pick out where he’d gone wrong. She did the same whenever she took a difficult loss.

But then he drew in a breath. “Whatever; it’s done and over. I’ve already decided my next move.” He looked over at her; his tone softened. “How was your match?”

He brushed his thumb back and forth on her thigh. It was distracting enough that she had to concentrate to answer him. “Good. We won.”

“That’s good,” he echoed with a squeeze of her leg. “Was it you, Tam, and Poi?”

She shook her head. “No; Poi had a singles match against Himeka. It was me, Tam, and Mariah against Queen’s Quest.”

His brow furrowed. “I thought Mariah was in Club Venus with Torrance?”

“She is, but Club Venus is a unit within Cosmic Angels. You know, like how House of Torture is a unit within Bullet Club.” She paused. “Is House of Torture still in Bullet Club? Can you kick them out? Because I think you should kick them out.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” David grinned.

“Anyway,” Nellie breathed, “it really won’t surprise me if Club Venus goes off on their own soon. Torr and Mina wrestled Unagi and Saki today.”

“And they’re all Cosmic Angels-slash-Club Venus?”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a grin. She put her hand on top of his. “I know, it’s hard to keep everyone straight.”

He scoffed. “You know I only care about your matches, anyway.”

“I’m sure Torr would love to hear that,” she commented; but David ignored it and pulled her under his arm and her leg over his. She curled into him, made whole at being in his arms again. He lit a fire in her and made her feel safe; wanted. She’d never felt this way about anyone.

“What about you, though?” he softly asked. “Are you still thinking about leaving Cosmic Angels?”

Nellie sighed. She had still been thinking about it, in fact. But she hadn’t come any closer to a decision. “I don’t know. I really do like Tam and Poi, and we really gelled as a unit during the Triangle Derby. But I still can’t help but feel like I don’t quite fit.”

She frowned to herself, thinking about it some more then. That really was the best way to describe how she’d felt for the last year and change: like she didn’t quite fit. A square peg in a round hole. And the niggling in her gut to do something about it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

As in NJPW, it was practically a requirement in Stardom that every member of the roster belong to a faction, and from the day she’d signed with Stardom in August 2018 up until December 2021, Nellie had belonged to Queen’s Quest. It had been a natural fit from the jump, and she’d flourished with them: for six wonderful weeks in the fall of 2020, she had been not a double, but a triple champion when she’d simultaneously held the RevPro Undisputed Women’s Championship, the SWA World Championship, and the Goddess of Stardom Championship with Saya Kamitani.

But despite all those accolades, Nellie had been just one successful person in a faction of remarkably talented and accomplished joshis, and she was often passed over for bigger opportunities in favor of her teammates. Her frustration with that was what had led her and Torrance to enter the 2021 Goddesses of Stardom Tag League together despite being in separate factions—and, to everyone’s shock, they’d won. So, when Momo Watanabe had suddenly and shockingly left Queen’s Quest leaderless by turning on them to join Oedo Tai just one month later, Nellie had already had every incentive to defect and accept Tam Nakano’s offer to join Torrance in Cosmic Angels.

And she’d found success with them, too. She and Torrance—officially known as Cosmic Queendom—had gone on to defeat Giulia and Syuri for the Goddess of Stardom Championship last January. Then in May, Nellie beat Thekla to become the first two-time SWA World Champion, a title that she still held now, almost a year later.

But all that success still couldn’t distract from the fact that Nellie just didn’t quite fit with Cosmic Angels.

Unlike Torrance, Nellie wasn’t a girly girl. She wasn’t cutesy or frilly. She wasn’t kawaii—and she did not dance. Actually, her refusal to do Cosmic Angels’ little entrance dances had become something of a running bit that the fans quite enjoyed. But still. As close as she’d grown with Tam and Natsupoi and even Unagi, Nellie just didn’t quite fit. And she’d confided it all in David just as he’d confided in her.

“You do work well with Tam and Poi. And Torr too, obviously,” he said. “But I worked well with Juice. When push comes to shove, you need to do what’s best for you.”

Nellie scoffed. She and Torrance hadn’t tagged together in months. But she didn’t want to get into all that. It was late, and she was done talking.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” She sat up from under his arm and swung her leg over to his other side; sank down onto his lap and ran her hands down his chest. “But enough business talk. I only have so much time with you left.”

David looked over her body, slid his hands up her thighs, gripped her at the curve of her backside—and then he raised his eyebrow at her in that slight way of his. The way that had left her feeling so impatient the last two weeks. “You know, there’s absolutely no reason I can’t just cancel my flight and stay a few days longer,” he said. “I could stay through to Sakura Genesis, actually. I don’t have any other commitments.”

“That’s two-and-a-half weeks away,” Nellie pointed out. That he’d change his plans just like that to spend that time with her turned her insides to mush.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sure we could find some way to fill the time.”

He fixed her with that look, that piercing gaze he’d gotten so good at overnight. Nellie was helpless against it.

“Cancel your flight, then,” she said, and she leaned down and kissed him.

* * * *

Sunday, February 19, 2023 Tokorozawa, Japan

Jay rested his forehead on the Lion Mark in the center of the mat, and Nellie watched from five thousand-plus miles away and seventeen hours into the future, torn somewhere between pity and acceptance. On one hand, losing to Eddie Kingston in San Jose, California was hardly the send-off from NJPW that she thought Jay White—the Last Rock ‘n’ Rolla, the man who singlehandedly sold-out Madison Square Garden, the first ever NJPW Grand Slam Champion—deserved. But on the other hand, Jay had accomplished everything there was for him to accomplish in Japan. It was time to move on.

“He lost?” Tam proclaimed in shock, and it caused everyone else to crowd around and look in interest. Nellie and Torrance had been watching the Battle in the Valley pay-per-view on Torrance’s tablet, propped up on a chair in the locker room at that afternoon’s Stardom event. Given the ramifications of Jay’s match, they’d wanted to watch it live. But maybe it hadn’t been the best idea.

“You alright?”

Nellie could see Torrance looking at her out of the corner of her eye. She was still looking at the screen, but she wasn’t really watching anymore. “Yeah,” she answered. “Honestly, I saw the writing on the wall a long time ago. I don’t know; it sounds like a shitty thing to say, but at least now I know for sure he’s gone.”

“No—that’s not a shitty thing to say at all,” Torrance returned. “Jay did nothing but confuse you and try to keep you from moving on, so I don’t blame you for feeling that way at all. Now he can’t pull that shit anymore.”

Leave it to Torrance not to mince words. But she was right. This was closure, in a way. And long overdue.

“Speaking of moving on,” she added. “Have you talked to David recently?”

Nellie started to answer—but she was cut off by a surprised gasp from Natsupoi.

“Debbie Chan!”

She pointed at the tablet; and when Nellie looked again, she couldn’t believe what she saw. Jay splayed out on his back on the mat, David Finlay standing over him, his father’s shillelagh in hand.

“Oh—my God,” Torrance gaped.

Nellie was equally shocked. More so. But then David started talking—yelling over the boos that poured down on him from the crowd—and it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already told her in private. In fact, the only thing that really surprised her was how little she cared that he’d chosen to take his frustration out on Jay, of all people.

In fact, she kind of liked it.

“Did you know he was gonna do this?” Torrance asked.

Nellie shook her head, her eyes still glued on the screen. On David. “No,” she said, and she immediately reached for her phone and sent off a text. She had no idea when he’d see it or when she’d get a response. But she had to let him know she’d seen what he’d done; and, more importantly, heard what he’d said.

That’s one way to make a statement, she wrote.

They turned off the pay-per-view after that to focus on preparing for their own show. It wasn’t until Nellie returned to the locker room from her six-woman tag match that she saw David’s response.

I was hoping you were watching.

Her stomach fluttered. So he had been thinking of her.

I’m glad I was, she sent back. His reply came not long after.

We should get dinner when I’m back next month.

Nellie didn’t hesitate.

It’s a date.

* * * *

Monday, March 27, 2023 Tokyo, Japan

David couldn’t have picked a better time to cancel his flight. With NJPW and Stardom both largely on break until the first of the month, he and Nellie had the freedom to spend their days however they pleased, whether that meant catching a train to go exploring wherever or staying tangled up in bed exploring each other, with no intention to go anywhere at all.

But today, they were at the dojo. Nellie had been wanting to add some more high impact moves to her arsenal, and David was the perfect person to help spot her form and make sure her execution was flawless.

As for how she was practicing the moves—that’s what Thekla was there for.

“Am I still spinning?” she asked in a daze after taking another Blue Thunder Bomb. Nellie looked down at her in concern.

“Shit, are you alright?”

She lifted her head up from the mat and smirked. “I’m messing with you.”

“Jesus,” Nellie breathed and pushed her out of the pin. “I thought I’d given you a concussion or something.”

“Nah, it was fine,” she assured her.

“Yeah, it looked really good, Nell,” David added from where he watched at the ring apron. “I’d say you have that down.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“What’s next?” Thekla asked.

“I could teach you Trash Panda,” David grinned.

“I thought it was called Into Oblivion now?” Nellie returned.

“Yeah… it is. But I like Trash Panda better.”

“Me too,” Thekla agreed with a grin.

“We can save that for the next session,” Nellie decided. “I think Thek’s been enough of a guinea pig today.”

Thekla waved her off. “You let me work out some stuff on you, too. Plus, I just figured you needed to get out your frustration about being eliminated from the Cinderella Tournament already.”

Nellie’s expression went flat. It was a friendly dig, but Thekla wasn’t entirely wrong. Stardom's annual Cinderella Tournament had kicked off yesterday, and Nellie had already been eliminated in the first round—by Torrance.

“I’m not touching that one,” David said.

“Honestly, it’s fine,” Nellie dismissed. “Torr can have that win. The Cinderella Tournament is more her thing, anyway.”

“Yeah… I can’t really imagine you out there in a big poofy dress,” David laughed, to which Nellie quickly shook her head.

“Yeah, no.”

“Oh, I would hate it, too,” Thekla agreed. “But I’d gladly put on a big poofy dress if it meant getting whatever title shot I wanted.”

Nellie scoffed. “Shit, that might be the only way I get another title shot at this point.”

As frustrated as she was with her position in Cosmic Angels, Nellie was even more frustrated with her treatment as SWA World Champion. Holding that title was something to be proud of, absolutely, and she was—but it often seemed like Stardom management flat-out forgot she was champion. In the nearly eleven months since she’d won the title, Nellie had defended it just four times, and not for lack of trying. She’d pushed so hard for a second defense when more than four months had passed after her first against Fukigen Death that they’d booked her two defenses back-to-back, the first of which had been a relatively high-profile champion-versus-champion match against Alex Windsor at NJPW Rumble on 44th Street in New York City. Nellie had been thrilled to be on that card, and she’d won that defense, as well as the next a week later against Alpha Female at the Hiroshima Goddess Festival.

And then her title was promptly forgotten about again, put on the backburner.

And maybe it was an issue with Stardom having too many titles for the size of their roster. But the SWA World Championship was unique: per the rules of the title, only wrestlers from countries other than the reigning champion could challenge for it. So, with Nellie being an American living in Tokyo, her list of potential opponents was seemingly endless. In fact, literally the only member of Stardom’s roster who couldn’t challenge her for the SWA World Championship was Torrance. But Stardom didn’t seem to recognize the value in that. They didn’t seem to recognize Nellie’s value as the third-longest currently reigning champion on their payroll.

And quite frankly, it was bullshit.

“I think you’ve more than earned calling your shot against whoever you want whenever you want with how long you’ve had the SWA title,” Thekla encouraged her.

“She’s not wrong,” David agreed.

Nellie chewed her lip in thought. No—Thekla wasn’t wrong, and it was funny she’d said it. Because there was something Nellie had been recently mulling over; a bold challenge she’d been considering making against her former tag team partner.

“All Star Grand Queendom is coming up,” she started. “I’ve been thinking about challenging Saya to a winner takes all match.”

“Do it,” David instantly said.

“Absolutely,” Thekla seconded. “And if you win you should leave Cosmic Angels and join Donna del Mondo.”

“Oh, only if I win?” Nellie smirked.

She nodded. “Yeah, we can’t take losers.”

Nellie turned it over in her head, trying it on for size. She had to admit: Two-Belt Nell in Donna del Mondo felt right.

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on losing, then.”

* * * *

Friday, March 31, 2023 Tokyo, Japan

Nellie’s stomach was in knots as she walked into the bar. It was one she was familiar with, one of Riley’s favorite spots in Tokyo. In fact, she was almost certain the last time she’d been there had been with him. So, it was as fitting as it was nerve-wracking that it was him who she was meeting there tonight.

Although, until about forty-five minutes ago, she hadn’t planned on going anywhere that night. Her only plans had consisted of relaxing in her apartment cuddled up with David as they binge-watched the new dark comedy series he’d gotten her into. But while he refilled their drinks in between episodes, Nellie had gotten an unexpected text from Riley.

What’re you up to tonight?

She’d scoffed to herself when she read it; it was barely a step up from hey, u up? But she’d responded, nevertheless.

Just binge-watching tv.

Riley didn’t need to know anything more than that. Who she was with was her business and her business alone.

But his next text caught her off-guard.

Want to meet up for a drink?

She stared at the message, unsure what to make of it. Even less sure of the intent behind it. She fired off the first excuse that came to mind.

I’m already in my pajamas.

She figured—hoped—that would take care of it. But Riley’s third text tightened her chest.

Please? There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you and I’d rather do it in person.

Of course, that was when David returned. He noticed her conflicted expression right away.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “Riley just asked if I could meet up for a drink.”

He laughed through his nose as he sat down. “I’m surprised it took him this long.”

She shot him a look.

“Oh, come on,” he returned. “You know I wasn’t the only one waiting for Jay to be gone.”

“At least you admit it,” she smirked.

“Oh, I admit it one hundred percent. But you certainly don’t seem to mind.”

He gave her that eyebrow raise as he took a drink. He wasn’t wrong. She didn’t mind it at all.

“Did he say why?” he asked. She read out the pertinent part of Riley’s last text verbatim. David’s expression turned pensive. And then he said, “I think you should hear him out.”

Nellie’s brow puckered. “Seriously?” That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. David and Riley had never been friends, and their relationship had only worsened since David had assumed leadership of Bullet Club.

But he was completely serious.

“Seriously. I know things are tense between me and him, and the last thing I want is for you to feel caught in the middle. You’ve felt that way enough where Riley’s concerned.”

A wave of gratitude and appreciation washed over Nellie, warming her from the top of her head down to her toes. She leaned in and gave him a tender kiss. “See, that’s why I’m with you,” she said, her lips still close to his. “You’re mature.”

“Among other reasons,” David smirked.

She sighed again. “Fine. I guess I’ll tell him he has one drink to say whatever it is he wants to say.”

And that was exactly what she did. And now, here she was.

The bar was as packed as she’d expected it to be on a beautiful spring Friday night in Roppongi. Riley was sitting at the bar, already nursing a drink. She doubted it was his first.

“Hey!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “I’m glad you’re here; people were starting to get pissy with me for saving a seat.” He pulled out the barstool next to him and motioned for her to sit. “What do you want? I’m buying.”

She thought about it. “Tequila soda,” she decided. Riley’s eyebrows arched.

“I haven’t heard you order one of those in a while. Can’t say I blame you, though; this might be a tequila conversation.”

Nellie didn’t react to that or ask why. She’d find out soon enough.

He flagged down a bartender and asked for a tequila and soda—with reposado, just how Nellie preferred—and then the tension settled in like an unwelcome guest. She had to break it somehow.

“Did you just fly in?” she asked. Riley nodded.

“Yeah, this morning. And I’m only here for a week; I’m taking some time off after Sakura Genesis. That’s why I wanted to talk to you tonight… I didn’t know when we'd have another chance with our schedules.”

The bartender set Nellie’s cocktail in front of her not a second too soon. She picked it up and lifted it to her lips. “Well, I’m here. So let’s talk.”

She hadn’t meant to come off so curt; it was her nerves. But before she could walk it back, Riley spoke.

“I owe you an apology.”

Nellie went still. She’d noticed that Riley had been acting differently since his first-round elimination from the New Japan Cup, and it wasn’t just her—everyone had noticed, to the point that Zack had even publicly commented on it. It was as if Riley was consciously trying to be a better person, and it started with correcting all his past transgressions; or at least, trying to.

But Nellie could think of half a dozen people who deserved an apology before she did. “For what?”

He laughed wryly to himself. “Well, for years of acting as my buffer, for starters.”

A lump formed in Nellie’s throat. That was almost exactly what David had said in encouraging her to come here.

He went on. “For years of telling people, He really is a good guy if you just get to know him, only for me to act like a complete jackass and make you look like one. For having the emotional depth of a kiddie pool.” He picked up his drink and brought it to his lips. “For kissing you when you were still with Jay.”

Nellie’s stomach twisted. “I kissed you back,” she quietly said.

“That doesn’t make it better. You were in an emotionally vulnerable position, and I took advantage of it. I’m sorry.”

She fidgeted under the sincerity of his gaze and took another nervous drink. She didn’t disagree with him. But her conscience wasn’t clear, either.

“And it’s double fucked up, actually,” he added, “because the only two people who haven’t turned their backs on me yet are you and Jay. And Jay’s gone.”

With that, he downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp. Nellie almost wanted to do the same with hers. Riley was coming to terms with the consequences of years’ worth of his actions right in front of her—and he had no idea who she was going back to when she left the bar.

“So, yeah,” he finished. “That’s what I have to apologize for.”

“Thank you,” she told him. “Really. It means a lot to hear you say all that.”

The ghost of a sad smile pulled at his lips, but it was gone as soon as the bartender appeared to ask if he wanted another. Riley nodded; and Nellie couldn’t bite her tongue.

“But you know who you really need to apologize to?” she asked.

“If you say—"

“Torrance. And Robbie.”

Riley scratched his mullet. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Because you know as much as I do there’s no two people you tormented more.”

“Tormented?” he stressed. “Come on… I didn’t torment Torrance.”

“So you admit you did torment Robbie, then?”

The bartender returned with Riley’s drink; he picked it up and took a long pull. His avoidance to answer the question spoke volumes.

“I don’t know if either of them will even hear you out,” Nellie added. “But you need to at least try.”

“Let me just get through one thing at a time, alright?” Riley returned, and Nellie could tell from his tone that he’d exhausted his emotional bandwidth for the night. “I know you’re not the only person I need to talk to, but I wanted to talk to you first because of all the bullshit going on in Bullet Club. I know you’ve gotten close with Finlay since he came back last summer. Dunno why… he’s a try-hard piece of shit.”

Nellie bit down on her jaw. But before she could tear into him, call it karma, due receipts, remind Riley that David was only giving back what he’d gotten from him—he pulled back and became deliberately abrasive. Just like he always did.

“But I’ve said my piece, so you’re free to go home and get back in your pajamas.”

He looked down into his drink, already half gone. Nellie had never seen him look so dejected. But he’d done it to himself; and for once, she knew he knew it.

“Fine,” she breathed. “Bye, Riley.” And she got up and walked out of the bar, leaving him to sit there alone with himself.

* * * *

Friday, July 16, 2021 Tokyo, Japan

There were multiple reasons why Nellie shouldn’t have gone out with Riley that night.

First, she had to be up early tomorrow to catch a flight to London to defend her newly re-won RevPro Undisputed British Women’s Championship against Mariah May on Sunday.

Second, Torrance was still on non-speaking terms with Riley, and Nellie didn’t want to do anything that could be misconstrued as choosing sides.

And third, she’d never felt more insecure in her relationship with Jay than she did now—and Riley had been looking at her all night as if she hung the fucking moon.

He'd walked her back to her apartment from the metro, a gesture she really hadn’t thought much of at all. It was late and she’d been drinking, and besides, she lived in Kasuga within walking distance from his hotel in Tokyo Dome City.

But when they’d arrived at her door, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from asking.

Do you want to come in?

She should’ve thought twice about it when Riley had been so quick to accept the invitation. But now here she was, getting them both another drink they probably shouldn’t have, and he was getting comfortable on her couch.

“What time is your flight?” he asked.

“8:55. So I have to be up in oh,” she glanced at the time on her phone, “less than six hours.”

“Hey—I promised I wouldn’t keep you out past when the trains stopped running, and I didn’t.”

“We caught the last train by the skin of our teeth.”

“But I kept my promise,” he grinned.

“First time for everything,” Nellie quipped as she handed him a beer. Riley clutched at his chest.

“Ouch, Nell. Tell me how you really feel.”

She just smirked and sat down next to him. Closer than she probably should have, their legs touching, his arm resting behind her head. She brought her bottle to her lips and took a drink.

“This is my first time here,” Riley noted.

Nellie blinked in shock. She’d lived in that apartment for just over a year, but he was right—he’d somehow never been there before. “That doesn’t seem right,” she remarked. But he shrugged.

“Well, if you think about it, we haven’t really hung out one-on-one since we both started working in Japan. Which is ironic, because we see each other way more now than we ever did in back in England.”

“Well, the circumstances were different back in England,” she said, and she immediately wished she hadn’t. Because now she was thinking about back in England. About how, back then, they would already be taking off each other’s clothes. And now Riley was looking at her like that again.

But he caught himself. “Speaking of circumstances… how’s Jay? Is he any closer to being able to come back?”

Nellie’s chest tightened. From one strained topic to the next. “I wish I could say,” she said. “But he seems perfectly fine with never coming back, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

That took Riley by surprise. “Why? Did something happen?”

She thought about it for a second. “Nothing specifically happened,” she finally said. “It just feels like I’m out of sight, out of mind a lot of the time.”

His brow furrowed. “Is he not trying to make it work? Didn’t you just visit him?”

“Not just,” she scoffed. “Almost two months ago. And he tries sometimes. Just enough so that I keep hoping this is a temporary setback. But then other times it seems like it’s too much trouble for him to try.”

She took another drink.

“That’s bullshit, Nell.”

She didn’t look at him. “It’s a difficult situation.”

“It is, but if that’s what Jay’s doing, it’s bullshit. It sounds like he’s stringing you along. You deserve better than that.”

Nellie’s nose burned. She leaned her head back against the couch only to rest it against Riley’s arm instead. She’d forgotten it was there. But she didn’t move. Neither did he.

“If he is, then I’m letting him,” she quietly admitted.

“Why?”

She peeled at the label on her beer bottle, mute. Not because she didn’t know why—she did know why. All too well. She was in love with Jay, and love turned even the smartest people into fools.

But she didn’t feel comfortable telling Riley that.

“Don’t,” he said.

Her voice came out small. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t fucking let him string you along. Hey.” He flexed his wrist on the arm behind her to touch his hand to the back of her head. She looked at him. “You deserve better than that.”

“Do I?” she asked, self-deprecating in her alcohol-induced misery.

“Of course you do,” Riley gently said, and the next thing she knew he was leaning forward, and then his lips were on hers; hers on his. She sat up to meet him—not thinking, just feeling—and he wrapped his arm around her and drew her in. The kiss became hungry quick, lustful, their bodies working on muscle memory three years old. He curled a fist into her hair, and it was like a trigger. She climbed onto his lap and pushed him back into the couch cushions—and then she felt the growing hardness in his pants and snapped out of it like a slingshot.

She broke the kiss and covered her mouth with her hands. Shocked. Instantly regretful.

Riley’s eyes were hooded. “Nell—”

“You need to go.”

She climbed off him and stood, not meeting his gaze, and he got up without argument and moved to the door. But he paused as he turned the doorknob. For a second, it seemed like he wanted to say something, and she waited, her breath hitched in her chest. But whatever it was, if it was even anything at all, Riley didn’t say it, and he turned and walked out the door. Nellie locked it behind him, and then she sank down on the couch, her head in her hands, her heart heavy.

* * * *

Saturday, April 8, 2023 Sakura Genesis – Tokyo, Japan

Stardom had a show in Aomori that day, but Nellie wasn’t there.

She was more than nine hours south of there, in Tokyo, at Sakura Genesis. But not because she had a match there—she didn’t. She hadn’t been booked anywhere that day, and so she’d come to support David in Bullet Club’s six-man tag match against Guerillas of Destiny and Master Wato. But her mind had been elsewhere the entire time.

She didn’t know why she hadn’t been booked for the Aomori show. When she’d realized it was the same day as Sakura Genesis, she’d thought—hoped—it could be because they were finally giving her an opportunity. A big one, to be the next to challenge for the IWGP Women’s Championship. But then the day of the pay-per-view had drawn closer… and closer… and no one said anything about it to her. There was no opportunity, Nellie had realized. She just hadn’t been booked, and it was Waka Tsukiyama tagging with Tam and Poi today instead of her.

And when Mercedes Moné walked out with the IWGP Women’s Championship around her waist, Nellie couldn’t stomach it to just sit there and watch.

She walked briskly through the backstage halls toward Bullet Club’s locker room—David had to be back there by now—but her pace slowed as she arrived. There was a suitcase lying in the middle of the hall, splayed wide open, its contents strewn across the floor as if it had been thrown from the locker room. It almost certainly had been thrown from the locker room—it was Riley’s suitcase, she realized. That hadn’t taken long.

She stepped over and in between his discarded belongings and knocked on the door. Kenta’s gruff voice called from inside, demanding in Japanese who it was. “It’s me,” she returned, agitated. David opened the door a few seconds later.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his tone much softer than Kenta’s had been. He looked back at the others as Nellie walked into the room. “Guys, give us a minute, alright?”

There was an awkward shuffle of movement as Gedo, Ishimori, and Kenta all filed past them into the hall. Ishimori kicked one of Riley’s shirts out of his path on his way out, and Kenta offered Nellie a “too sweet.” But she just glowered at him, and he shrugged and kept moving. David shut the door behind them and turned to her.

“I know—I should have told you we planned on kicking out ELP tonight,” he started—but Nellie shook her head.

“I don’t care that you kicked him out.”

He paused. “You don’t?”

She shook her head again. “No. He made his bed, now he’s lying in it. I couldn’t care less.”

David was clearly relieved—and pleased—to hear her say that. “Oh; okay.” He took her by the hips and drew her into him. “Then what do you look so upset about?”

She slid her hands up his shoulders and around his neck. “I’m not upset,” she calmly returned. “I’ve just come to a decision.”

“Have you?” he asked with interest. Arching his brow in that slight way of his.

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Are you going after Tama’s NEVER Openweight Title?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“Good,” she returned. “Let’s take over.”

A slow grin spread over David’s face. “Absolutely,” he said, and for the first time in months—years—Nellie felt secure, the whole world ahead of her. She was with David, he was with her, and they were going to disrupt everything.

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