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overnowsfcb · 4 months

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halfway out the door; fermín lópez

summary: fighting to keep a little flame alive underwater, you couldn't lose the only stable thing in your life

warnings: ANGST!!! (no good ending) mature language, mental health issues (panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress), relationship struggles, unhealthy dinamics, brief mention of smut themes. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 3,3k

note: hiii! it's me again, this time posting for my sweet boy (who is not as sweet in this story) fermín. im planning to do something with all the 1989 vault tracks x barça players. so take it as the first from the series!! also, apologies if the angst hits hard, promise to post fluff next time (its a bit of challenge for me haha) super excited about this and would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions! – venus 🫂💐🫧 p.s.: im so proud of this one tbh

He didn’t seem to have enough time for you anymore. You didn’t want to see the subtle twist, but you knew him all too well and an imperceptible change for everyone was an imposing earthquake in your world.

It was in the hours that your messages would be waiting for a response and the way he wasn’t starved to taste your lips anymore. Once, he’d find an excuse to be with you, even if only for brief minutes. He’d dash to your apartment bearing your favorite chocolate with the pretext of keeping you fed. A smile brightening and your stomach still produced the same fluttering butterflies, as the first time he kissed you underneath the moonlight at fourteen.

Back then, everything was perfect, the chill air in your faces as you ran with sand getting between your toes, you could still feel his timid hands and tender touch on your waist as you both shared a breathtaking kiss.

Your mother's words echoed - relationships don't last forever. You'd always dismissed her musings, attributing them to the bitterness stemming from your father's departure. But now, that thought held a glimmer of truth.

He was your soulmate, your solid backbone, he would hold the candles for you even if his arm grew weary, drawing strength from unimaginable places. Unseen pictures would fill his phone, capturing your candid moments, proudly setting you as his lock screen. One cherished memory stood out: a photo of you, pajama-clad, returning from a late-night ice cream run, a victorious smile on your face. You had lost a bet that day, darting to the store at 1 AM, just a street away from your building.

However, now everything appeared to be falling apart; the last picture in his gallery folder, titled 'I love, mine, mine, mine,' dated back to July, and it was already November. It contrasted the warmth of July with the chilling absence of recent affection.

Yearning for something to blame, tears seemed futile as memories replayed relentlessly, etched deep within your heart. Each sob felt like a painful reminder of the emptiness in the cold, desolate bed without him by your side. Staring at it blankly, your mind echoed the silent void, your chest tightening with every expelled breath.

Sleeping alone always felt unbearable. You reached for your phone, gazing at the lock screen displaying a snapshot of both of you in a summer pool. His outings with friends never bothered you; you accepted that he was now part of Barcelona's first team, and you weren't his priority. However, deep down, a simple goodnight message like "Sweet dreams, Pip, I love you" was all you silently longed for. Was it too much to ask from someone who claimed to love you?

The absence weighed heavily as you saw the clock strike 4 AM. This hour always induced a sense of dread, a time too late to sleep, opening the gates to wandering thoughts about life's choices. Moving to Barcelona for him might have been a hasty decision.

In Sevilla, there wasn't much to lose. Your little town overwhelmed you, especially under the weight of your living nightmare, your mother and her pursuit of perfection. That was until she married your toddler brother’s father, her focus shifted almost forgetting about your existence.

He was your escape from that suffocating environment. Initially, it felt liberating, but gradually, it became confining again. The cage expanded as you became his pillar while his name was in everyone’s mouth, especially girls who found him attractive. The weight of being his support, witnessing the attention he received, caused an internal storm. But he wouldn’t change you, right? Yet, the conflict brewed within, the tug-of-war between being the support he needed and holding onto your own identity.

You grew tired of waiting for him, tossing and turning in bed for ten minutes, before finally succumbing to sleep, cocooned in blankets to ward off the cold.

Abruptly opening your eyes, hours later, your body spasmed and your heart raced, reflecting the recent struggles with sleep these days. Observing to your side, relief washed over you; he lay there peacefully, an arm draped over your waist.

Tears welled in your eyes, a sense of loss filling your chest. Deeply in love, you realized your first waking thought was about him, albeit taking a negative turn.

What if I lose him? What if I lost the lighthouse in the middle of the sea? The uncertainty of the waters and the potential fall weighed heavily.

You wanted to get back to those times when you smiled as you landed your eyes, his body next to you, where blonde strands of messy hair framed his face and you delicately organized them while you talked and kissed every morning, staying in bed like an old married couple, feeling each other's warmth, laughter used to fill the air as he playfully booped your nose.

The weight of invisible hands squeezed your chest, making each breath a desperate gasp for air.

You didn't want to feel this anxiety; your breath became erratic. Rushing to the terrace, you breathed as if your mind forewarned a trailer of what has to be.

Struggling to regain control, your hands tightened on the cold railing, a reminder of the grounding reality you struggled to grasp.

Peering down, the height induced paralysis, intensifying your vertigo. "y/n, estás bien?" (are you okay?) His concerned voice, muffled and distant, struggled to penetrate the thick fog of panic, fear rooted you in place, afraid the floor would fall through if you made a step.

"Amor, háblame." (darling, talk to me) He approached, unsure. This panic attack was the first in years. His hand on your shoulder offered reassurance like an anchor, and you emerged from the state, meeting his gaze with your tear-stained eyes; he was still your gentleman. He was still yours.

And you needed to repeat it to stave off madness.

"Abrázame," (hug me) you whispered in a fragile plea. His arms enveloped you, he was the refuge that you needed; his familiar scent eased your breathing.

His head on yours, he sought to share his heartbeat, attempting to quell the sudden anxiety and the questions that haunted your mind. His furrowed brows hinted at his confusion, but conversation could wait. For now, it was about you. The one who never failed him; he couldn't fail you now.

When your body distended completely, he gently guided you back to bed. You clung to him, as if he could run away at any moment.

You walked to your side of the bed and he tucked you in like no one ever did before, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead, an attempt to dissipate the negativity.

“What time is it?” you inquired, looking up at him.

“Six a.m., sleep. ok?” He stroked your head, and your eyes closed under the weight of fatigue. “I love you so much.”

Days passed after the incident. He chose not to ask more about the reason behind your anxiety, he decided to act as if everything was fine.

This didn't imply he lacked concern for you, but it certainly felt that way. His demeanor towards you was still unchanged.

Feelings unaddressed hung in the air, manifesting in the cold kisses and the superficial small talk that never deepened. But, in front of everyone, you maintained the façade, accepting compliments from everyone about your seemingly perfect relationship. Only if they knew the underlying truth…

Yet, you personally sensed his gradual withdrawal, a palpable feeling of him slipping through your fingers. The strain became evident as you found yourself having to repeat things that were important to you at least three times, only for him to continually forget. Or the lackluster pecks he gave you, making you feel pathetic.

Although feeling unwanted, you weren't a resentful person, so you would religiously sit in the stands at every game and witness how he gained fan's hearts with outstanding performances on the pitch, earning the title of man of one of the champions league matches and you loved how the stadium echoed his name as he made an incredible goal.

You found joy in his happiness, doing his thing with the team of his dreams. In that moment, your mind transported into a different time – those moments when you stood by his side, offering comfort during his moments of self-doubt, back when he believed his dreams would forever be just that – dreams.

His satisfaction meant the world to you. Meeting him as he emerged from the dressing room, already showered, you couldn't help but admire how his wet hair framed his face.

A big smile adorned his face as he approached you. Opening your arms, your bodies collided as he effortlessly lifted you spinning around, creating a whirlwind of laughter that filled the air.

Once he gently set you down, you couldn't contain your pride. Cupping his cheeks, you locked eyes with him. The sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Your lips met his in a deep, meaningful kiss – one that hadn't been shared in weeks, but in that moment, it felt like the perfect reunion.

You believed this moment marked a fresh start, a much-needed rejuvenation to propel you forward. That optimistic outlook, however, disintegrated after he bid you farewell at your apartment, scrolling through TikTok on your couch, a video of his post-match interview caught your eye, and an involuntary smile crept onto your face.

His voice echoed through the video, captivating in its beauty. The interviewer's final question lingered in the air, "Who are you going to celebrate this with?" Anticipating a mention of teammates, family, and you, you were bewildered as the final words left his mouth – your name conspicuously absent.

And in that instant, the realization struck: he hadn't kept his promise to do a heart gesture to include you in his celebration either. But you decided to let it slide; perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that caused him to forget, and you were willing to overlook it.

You turned on the TV to avoid your thoughts. He no longer watched movies with you, and lately, the time you spent together felt like his phone held more allure than anything you did to catch his attention.

Without even mentioning that he wasn't fucking you lately, offering excuses of exhaustion from training or unexpectedly halting any progress when things got heated and leaving your folds wet.

But still, your mouth stayed shut, justifying every action. What you didn't know is that only one drop was missing in the glass before it overflowed – the last straw.

And eventually, the bomb exploded in the least suitable scenario. You stood by his side, his arm around your waist, desperately wanting to take his hand out and shout your feelings in front of everyone.

You didn't want to be there; you longed to be at home with your fluffy cat, who offered more comfort than Fermín did in these past months.

He was so smooth about it, engrossed in the conversation with his friends, seemingly oblivious to your distress. You whispered in his ear that you needed to get home, you weren’t feeling at your best, the strobe lights blinding you, the music pulsating louder than your heartbeat. It felt like water was reaching your nose, and you feared you'd stop breathing any moment.

Yet, you stayed, like a naive girl striving to make everything perfect for her lovely gentleman. But was still that gentleman who put you above all else?

The voices and laughter from his friends overwhelmed you. While you genuinely liked them and had never encountered an issue before, this night seemed a challenge you couldn't survive.

Your gaze darted around, hoping for a savior amid the sea of faces. But there was no one.

The air seemed to get thinner, and your chest constricted, as if locked in a slowly tight embrace. The blue dress discomforting your skin, felt like an additional layer of confinement, fantasizing to shed not only the fabric but also the skin beneath.

It was as if transparent walls were materializing around you, and this was the moment to escape a place to which you didn't belong, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece, you watched him again with pleading eyes, silently urging him to notice you.

“Fer, really, I need to go home.” You whispered, careful not to let his friends overhear. He scanned your gestures, it took him a few seconds to realize that something about you was off. You wish he had seen it earlier.

Everything he did was later than you needed it, when he did the things, you have already fixed yourself into the uncomfortable.

“Okay, let's go.” He nodded and he finally took out his hand off your waist, allowing a momentary exhale. Greetings were exchanged with his friends and you reciprocated, not wanting to show an impolite image.

Almost running, your feet propelled you outside of the disco, pushing people out of your way, without waiting for Fermín.

The doors swung shut behind you, plunging the abrupt silence upon your ears. Relief washed over you.

Closing your eyes, you took deep breaths. You needed to hold yourself like the grown woman you were and not cry. As the doors swung open and closed again, you turned to find Fermín, a frown etched across his face.

“Why didn't you wait for me?” his voice held a trace of anger, making you shiver. Realizing the street wasn't the place for such a conversation, you began walking towards the car, your feet aching from the high heels worn that night.

He hurried to catch up, the tension palpable. When the car alarm reached your ears, signaling it was unlocked, you opened the door and entered as quickly as you could.

Sitting there, attempting to adjust to sudden silence, you sensed his presence beside you.

Leaning back into the headrest, you brought your hands on your face.

He started talking again. “What's going on you?” you hesitated to face him, reluctant to confront those expressive brown eyes you memorized like the back of your hand.

As he insisted again to hear a response, anger got to your head. Without warning, you exploded, all the carefully restrained words meant to preserve your relationship pouring into a torrent.

“I'm just so damn exhausted! I feel like I'm invisible. I ache to be seen, to matter in your eyes again. I’ve been here, baring my soul, and it feels like you're a million miles away.” Your scream echoed, tears smudging your makeup. You saw the weight of his actions settling on him as his eyes reflected comprehension. A sob escaped your lips, he stood frozen. “I'm just asking you to hear me, to truly see me, and realize that I'm shattering inside because I've already fought too much alone for the person who I thought I would marry.”

He shook his head, a boy who had always the right words now seemed that they left their mind, leaving him defenseless. A hesitant pause filled the car.

Lips parted, but the sentences seemed to dissipate before finding form. It was as if they were navigating a maze of thoughts, searching for the right words to offer comfort or understanding, yet coming up empty-handed.

You got tired of waiting, you've been doing it for such a long time, you almost felt old. But if he just opened his mouth, you knew you would forgive him. “Let's go home.” You whispered, disappointed about a man who you were calling the love of your life.

He gripped the steering wheel and hit the road. Memories flooded back of the anecdotes shared in that white car, now slipping through your fingers like ash.

You pondered the absence of rain, almost expecting the heavens to open up. Wasn't it obligatory for the sky to weep when something magical began succumbing to rationalism?

When you arrived at the house, he finally was able to speak. “I'm so sorry for everything that I caused you.” He didn't know if physical contact would be well received from you. So he gripped even more the steering wheel, needing to make something with his hands, getting out the tension.

“What happened to us, Fer?” your heart-wrenching question hitting him. You were already talking in past tense.

There wasn't an exit for this situation, and he knew that. He wished he could build a time travel machine and make everything alright, fix the first mistake that led to this big snow ball that was making an avalanche. “I-I don't know.”

“I think I'm coming back to Sevilla.” you confessed, stepping out of the car. Your headache due to the tears that you've been letting out and your eyes were puffy.

As you stood outside the car, the quiet suburban street provided a bleak contrast to the storm raging within your emotions.

Fermín, still gripping the steering wheel, searched for words that could somehow mend the gashes that had formed between you two. The realization of the inevitable distance settled on him like a heavy cloak.

“I never meant for it to come to this,” he finally uttered, voice heavy with remorse. “I let things slip away, and I can't forgive myself for that.”

You, caught between the pain and the need for resolution, gazed at him with a mixture of sorrow and longing. The familiar surroundings of the neighborhood seemed to transform into a backdrop for the end of something significant. You already knew you were never coming back here.

In the distance, a streetlamp flickered, casting intermittent shadows on the pavement. You took a deep breath, the chill in the air stinging your lungs, and said, “Sometimes, we have to go back to move forward.”

His eyes, filled with regret, met yours. “Is there anything I can do to make things right?”

But the answer remained unsaid, it wouldn't be fair to give him instructions and keep rowing and carrying him while he was just there. Wounds were already too deep and your energy was drained.

You turned away, the distance between Sevilla and this quiet street growing smaller in comparison to the emotional gap that now separated you two.

The door creaked shut, marking the end of a chapter that perhaps, in the unfathomable depths of your heart you didn't want to admit that you anticipated it.

In the solitude of your apartment, surrounded by echoes of shared laughter and the ghost of a love that once flourished, you confronted the daunting task of rebuilding your world. The faint glow from the streetlamp outside cast a melancholic light on the remnants of what was.

Fermín, still parked, felt the shared years withering in the blink of an eye, something you had been discerning for a torturing amount of time. The engine hummed softly, an averse companion to the lingering regret in the air. As he drove away, the distance between your hearts seemed insurmountable.

You watched as Blaugrana, your Calico fluffy cat, approached you unawarely of everything surrounding her, you sat on the wooden floor with her purring next to you. The sparkle of her collar made you remember how your life was bound to be lived with Fermín forever, in that collar your initials were carved. You didn't want to fall back to this cruel reality.

You even commanded yourself to religion to save your relationship, months before. Night after night, you poured the essence of your yearning into prayers addressed to Aphrodite, beseeching her to weave the threads of love and passion back into your relationship, to restore its former glory. Each whispered plea carried the weight of your sincere desire, a desperate hope that the goddess of love might heed your call and guide your connection to the blissful days of yore.

But even that didn't work. And you realized the hug of what you thought would be a fresh start unraveled into the deceptive clarity of terminal lucidity. Now you would hear the eternal melancholic tone of the complete loss of vital signs. Forever.

#fermin lopez x reader #fermin lopez #fermin lopez angst #football angst #football x reader #gavi x reader #pedri x reader #fermin lopez imagine #fermin lopez x you #football imagine

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dduane · 2 months

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hi,

im a senior in college, and i first read "so you want to be a wizard" and "deep wizardry" when i was 10 or so - at least 14 years ago. just tracked the books down again recently, and ive been rereading them. they're such a comfort in this weird time in my life, and i wanted to say, thank you so much for getting these stories out in the world. they still mean so much to me

You're completely welcome. I'm so glad the books were there for you fourteen years ago, and are still getting the job done now. :) Thanks for letting me know.

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torukmaktoskxawng · 4 months

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tsamsiyu ta'em- healing and closure part two

Masterlist - part fourteen

Summary: Ronal and Tonowari notice a certain dynamic between Kayla and the human boy she's keeping separated from Neytiri.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: canon-compliant, mature language, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, rushed, time skips, fluff, angst, major character death, child endangerment, etc.

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @motheroffae @undeniableadrenaline @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @sucker4angstt @inolaphoenix @ilovechickenwings @tojisleftarm @andyfromku @ivysully @lightandshadow31

A/N: So this turned out to be a very long chapter anyway 😅 but I'm glad I split it into two parts!

Without much sleep from the night before, Makayla found herself sitting outside the marui the following morning, waiting for her brother to return. Jake had woken up and noticed she was already awake but didn't comment. Instead, he shared that he was going to speak to Tonowari and Ronal as soon as it was light enough outside. He wanted to express his deepest regret and sincerest apology to the reef clan leaders for endangering their children and their people, along with the promise to move his family elsewhere so they wouldn't draw any more attention to the Metkayina. As sunlight began to sparkle and reflect off the ocean's surface, Jake kept his word and left. Kayla had been sitting outside ever since.

Sounds of life could be heard inside the Sully marui, shuffling and quiet voices indicating that the others were slowly waking up, but Kayla didn't go back in and investigate. She remained outside, basking in whatever silence was left before the whole village awakened. Kayla listened to the quiet sounds of birds off in the distance, pinpointing small chirps from the ilu pens, and the gentle waves crashing into the sand along the beach. It was so peaceful, and for just a brief moment, Kayla allowed herself to relax.

Other Na'vi were starting to leave their homes and begin their morning chores by the time Jake came trekking down the walkways. Kayla had spotted him from a distance and quickly stood, waiting to meet him when he drew closer.

"So what happened? What did the olo'eyktan and tsahik say?"

Jake shared a small solemn gaze with her, speaking quietly so no one inside his home could hear him, "They both agree that we are Metkayina now and are allowing us to stay."

Kayla's shoulders relaxed, surprising even herself when she felt relief. Sure, she would have kept a stiff lip if she had no choice but to help her brother move his family out, but she was glad that they would get to stay. And-- a small part of her was relieved to know that Tonowari and Ronal didn't hold any ill will toward her family.

She allowed herself to take a deep breath, "So what now?"

"It's customary for a grieving family to stay secluded from the rest of the village while they mourn," Jake explained with an unnaturally soft voice, like saying it would make it real and he didn't want that, "We'll stay at home for the rest of the week and then we'll go from there. See what happens."

~~~~~~~~~

Despite being given the much-needed time to rest and be there for her family, Makayla was beginning to get a little stir-crazy.

She understood why the Na'vi believes in allowing yourself a window of grieving before returning to your normal life... but she honestly didn't feel as though she could deal with isolating oneself in their home for a whole week. Kayla was a woman of action, always on the move, never stopping. It was easy to prove herself among the Omatikaya because there was always something to do, something to keep her busy until it was time to finally force herself to rest at the end of the day. But here and now, it was nearly impossible. The Metkayina expect her and the rest of the Sullys to stay home and mourn. Maybe it was the way she was brought up in the military, but Kayla couldn't bring herself to not do... well, nothing. She needed to process death in her own way at her own time, but not like this.

A part of her envied Jake for being able to do what the Na'vi expect of him, especially when he used to be just like his sister-- always on the move. Of course, after such a long adjustment period living among the Omatikaya, he had managed to get rid of a lot of old habits, good and bad. Jake appeared relieved to be given this time to mourn, and Kayla couldn't exactly blame him. His son was taken from him, and that was a pain she knew that she could never understand. So yes, while she envied the fact Jake could stay isolated in a marui all day, she also understood her brother and how he needed time away from prying eyes so he could grieve. Neytiri and the children were no different. They did move around the home and kept themselves busy, but they never left beyond the threshold the entire week. The way they moved around each other made Kayla feel like an outsider looking in. The family moved in sync with one another, talking fluidly and like a team. She didn't have that sort of bond with them. At least, she didn't believe she did. Looking over at Spider who kept himself separate from the Sullys and sulking in the corner, Kayla could tell he more or less felt the same way.

Ao'nung, Tsireya, and Rotxo would stop by occasionally to provide the family with some food, water, and other provisions the Sullys might need during their grieving period but otherwise left them alone until they were ready to rejoin society. Apart from the reef children, Kayla and the rest of the Sullys have not seen another living face outside of each other's.

By the third day, Kayla was starting to get antsy and desperate. She needed to do something to keep her mind busy. When she finally stood up and announced she needed to visit the clan leaders, Jake was more than happy to let her go since she was driving him just as equally crazy. Off she went without any of the Sullys doing much to protest, practically running out of that marui without ever looking back. A part of her felt guilty, but at the very least, Kayla felt comfortable leaving Spider there as long as Kiri or Lo'ak would always be with him and not just Neytiri.

Once she made it to her destination, she was astonished to see both Tonowari and Ronal were home inside their marui, thinking that she might only find one or neither of them in the middle of the day. Both clan leaders were teaming up to stretch a fishing net out to try and detect any mistakes, standing far across the kelku from one another with the net stretched out between them. Making sure to make plenty of noise as she approached the home, Kayla purposely stayed right outside the entryway until both sets of eyes landed on her.

Tonowari looked pleasantly surprised to see her standing there and lifted his fingers to his forehead before lowering them toward her as a greeting, "Makayla te Suli."

Kayla does a double-take and quickly repeats the gesture, "May I come in?"

"Please," Tonowari extends his arm to direct her further into the marui, gesturing to the hearth as he and Ronal set the fishing net aside, "Sit."

"You are walking," Ronal stated the obvious as Kayla stepped inside her home, glancing down at the small limp the other woman was sporting. The tsahik held her rounded stomach in one hand and carefully sat down in the small circle her mate and Kayla had created when they also knelt down. She eyed the avatar carefully, "You should wait to do so until your foot regains full mobility."

Kayla glances down at her wrapped ankle, ears lowering in shame, "I just... wanted to thank you for allowing my family to stay here. You didn't have to, even after everything that happened, but you did."

Tonowari shakes his head and raises his hand to stop her, "Your family are Metkayina now. There's not much else they can learn, so they are free to live among us. As are you."

The avatar tilted her head, eyes widening in bafflement, "Me?"

"Yes," Ronal adds to her husband's statement, "You have learned much in your time here. You will always have a place in our village. The Way of Water gives and takes, life and death. In exchange for your loss, it has given you a home here."

Kayla's eyes fall to stare down at her lap at the reminder, staring down at her hands, "My loss..."

"Toruk Makto is your brother. His son was your nephew, was he not? You lost a nephew."

"We are very sorry for your loss."

She glances between them, a little thrown off by their sentiment. Her eyes quickly go back to staring down at her lap, "... Thank you."

Ronal must have seen something in her expression to believe that this wasn't the first time Makayla had lost someone. Despite feeling indifferent to the avatar woman, the tsahik's heart clenched painfully at the idea of someone who goes through loss just as often as one might breathe, "Is grief a friend of yours?"

She shrugged, "I'm not a stranger to it if that's what you mean."

The answer wasn't a comfort for Ronal, wincing at the thought of her own loss. She lost Ro'a at the worst time imaginable in both of their lives, ready to raise babies together. Although, there's never really a good time to lose someone you love, no matter where you are in life. Kayla didn't exactly strike Ronal as someone who had to deal with death only once before. At the mention of her nephew, Kayla only appeared to want to sink into a hole and nothing more, and it aged her face far beyond her years. "You are not with your family. Families grieve together. It usually helps."

Kayla shook her head, "I wanted to give them space. I felt like I was intruding."

"Are you not a part of their family?"

"I am." She nods, although she doesn't sound convinced herself, and the clan leaders both notice this.

Tonowari sees his mate glance over in his direction out of the corner of his eye. When he turns his head toward Ronal, she's visibly asking him a question through her eyes and he immediately understands the message she was trying to get across to him. The chieftain simply nods to her and then turns to address the Sully woman in front of him, "You are more than welcome to stay with us if you wish to grieve and live separately from Toruk Makto's family."

She pushes down the warmth that threatened to rise in her cheeks. She wasn't a teenager anymore, she could handle an adult conversation without automatically assuming any wrong intentions. Instead of assuming anything, Kayla simply shook her head, "I can't ask that of you. I'll just be keeping up space."

"Arrangements can be made for a marui of your own," Ronal quickly added as a way of further reassuring Kayla instead of scaring her off by their boldness, "You and the demon boy."

Kayla bit her tongue and chose to ignore the labeling, clearing her throat to regain her voice a little, "Thank you, but that's not necessary. I wouldn't want to burden anybody."

"You are not a burden. You are one of us now."

Yellow eyes peer up to meet the blue and green pairs already staring at her. Neither man nor woman appeared as if trying to help her was a burden, their eyes silently pleading for her to agree. She wasn't sure if they were desperate or just pitying her, and she wasn't sure which she would prefer they feel. Kayla had to admit that their offers were tempting, and the common sense in her was begging her head to see reason. The avatar briefly thought of Spider, alone among the Sullys back at the marui right now, and she thought about what could be best for him.

She swallowed as she shamefully admitted to herself that being away from Neytiri would be best for him right now, "I... I mean-- if there are any pods to spare..."

"There is. We will make the arrangements," Ronal leans over and promptly grabs Kayla's hand, stunning the avatar but unable to move underneath the stare the tsahik provided her, "For now, return to your brother and his family. Rest your foot... or I will not be pleased if I have to treat it again."

Ronal's harshness was uplifting for Kayla, a small sense of normalcy after such a daring move as to grab her hand. A part of the avatar wanted the other woman to continue acting as herself, cold and distant from strangers like Kayla... but there was a small, shameful sliver of herself that wanted the tsahik to continue holding her hand, especially after her fingers had suddenly let go.

~~~~~~~~~

Spider is quiet after Kayla informs him that the two of them will be moving into a separate marui. He doesn't appear angry or even shocked, as his eyes continuously flick over to Neytiri's direction during the whole discussion, but even Kayla felt guilty when Spider went around hugging the Sully children, softly telling them that they'll see him once their week of mourning was over. The only one who didn't comment during the whole time Kayla had packed her things was Neytiri, but while she didn't say anything, Kayla could see that she was secretly relieved to be rid of the boy. With no items or essentials to call his own, the teenager followed Kayla outside where Jake was waiting for them. Kayla's brother didn't look confident about this new living situation, but the worry could easily be chalked up to someone who didn't want his family to be too far away from him after everything they had just been through. Before parting, Jake placed a large, comforting hand on Spider's shoulder and offered him a weak smile.

"Keep her out of trouble for me, will ya?"

"Yes, sir."

The avatar and teenager make their way down the long stretches of walking paths, avoiding eye contact with any Metkayina. At least, Spider was, and he thought Kayla was doing the same since she seemed so desperate to avoid everyone when she brought him to the village the other day. However, due to Kayla walking in front of Spider, he failed to notice that anyone who was caught staring as they walked by would receive Kayla blankly staring right back long enough to the point where it would unnerve the Na'vi and force them to look away.

Spider followed Kayla toward the center of the village where there was a bigger marui waiting for them. The boy's back immediately straightens up when he sees the clan leaders of the Metkayina waiting for them just outside of the pod. Kayla approached the two with ease, not as intimated by their height and regality as Spider was.

The tsahik spoke firmly to her, lips pursed in disapproval, "You are on your foot again."

"I promise to rest once Spider and I are settled," She dipped her head to them, pressing her fingers to her forehead before lowering it in their direction and turning back around to beckon Spider over to her side, "I don't think you three have been properly introduced. Spider, this is the olo'eyktan and the tsahik of the Metkayina. Tonowari, Ronal, this is Spider."

Spider was quick to remember his manners and greeted them with a familiar hand gesture to the rim of his mask and bowing his head, "Oel ngati kameie, Ronal. Oel ngati kameie, Tonowari."

The olo'eyktan stepped up and greeted the boy the same way. Kayla felt a small bit of tension in her shoulders begin to relax when Tonowari spoke to Spider with a benign voice, "Oel ngati kameie, Spider. Welcome to our village."

The chieftain kept his expression open and calm, being friendly but professional. He spoke to Spider as he would for other teenagers, gently but with a tone of voice that didn't talk down or belittle him. Tonowari smiles warmly, eyes darting between Spider and Kayla, "Makayla te Suli speaks highly of you, as does her nieces and nephew."

Spider's posture begins to relax at the words meant to reassure him. Kayla shares the sentiment until her eyes flick over to the woman standing behind Tonowari. Yellow eyes meet green ones and suddenly Kayla is back to being on her guard. Ronal's expression was stone, impassive, and purposely closed off from any interpretation. It wasn't a very comforting sight, especially when those green eyes moved to Spider. Being the ever-observant kid that he is, Spider's relaxing posture also stiffens under Ronal's gaze.

The tsahik must have seen how uncomfortable she was making the human boy as she turned away and expected the others to follow, "Come. We will take you to your new home."

Much like how she had to keep up with Ronal when first following her around the village, Kayla noticed how Spider was struggling to do the same. While she and Tonowari followed the tsahik in perfect stride, sprained ankle be damned, Spider was beginning to fall behind. It couldn't have been a coincidence. Kayla was beginning to wonder if this was a small test Ronal bestowed on every newcomer; to see if they were capable of keeping up with someone as busy as her. Perhaps only then would she consider them worthy of staying in her village. After noticing this, Kayla slowed her walk just enough so that Spider was always a tail length behind her, confident that even with smaller legs, he would at least keep pace with her.

On and on they walk until it feels as though they have gone through the entire village. Once Ronal began to slow down, so did Tonowari, and their destination became clear. To Kayla's surprise and approval, they chose a hut for her and Spider on the edge of the village, close to the line of trees leading into the jungle of the island, coincidentally the same route Kayla often took whenever she returned to her lonesome campsite. The hut was small and quaint, meant for a single Na'vi or a family of two. Stepping inside, it was clear that the marui hadn't been lived in for a while, but not like she was going to complain. She's lived in far worse conditions. This was a luxurious hotel compared to what she was used to back home.

"What do you think?" She asks Spider once he steps inside, "Not bad for your first official marui, right?"

He shrugs, "I tried making a kelku when I was a kid once."

"Oh? Was it better than this?"

"It was until the rain came through," he huffed out in a small laugh, "Lo'ak wouldn't let me live that down for a week. I was ten."

"Well, at least you know a bit of rain isn't taking this thing anywhere," Kayla sets down her things and pats the inside wall of the pod made of woven materials, smiling in encouragement, "And until we figure out what to do about... well, everything, think of this place as a way to get away from everyone and everything, alright?"

"Sure... but why?" Spider eyed her skeptically.

"Why not? Everyone needs their space. Especially you. This is a strange place full of strange people who haven't gotten the chance to get to know you yet. I had a campsite in the jungle for a while after coming here because I didn't like the stares," and with that, her eyes began to darken and she fixed him a look of warning, a clear hidden meaning behind her words, "I just want you to have a safe place to run to for anything while you're here, okay?"

He eyed her questionably, trying to grasp her meaning and feeling cold when he easily recognized the distrust in the woman's eyes... but it wasn't directed at him. He wasn't sure if he should feel comforted or concerned by the fact that Kayla didn't trust other Na'vi around him, "Alright... Thanks." He adds quickly as an afterthought.

Turning around, she steps back out into the world where she had left behind the Metkayina clan leaders. Ronal and Tonowari were facing away from the marui, looking out over their village and only turning back around when they heard Kayla approaching, pointedly pretending as though they hadn't overheard anything.

"What do you think? Is it to your liking?"

"It's wonderful. Thank you," Kayla, fortunately, doesn't appear suspicious, "I think we'll take a page out of my brother's book and stay low for the rest of the week, to get settled in and so on."

Ronal nodded and gave off the impression that she found this acceptable. In a way, gaining the tsahik's approval was rare for Kayla and it made her feel a little lighter, despite the circumstances.

Tonowari smiles in understanding, "I will have Tsireya bring you and the boy some food that should last you until then."

"You don't have--"

And just like that, Ronal's approval is suddenly replaced with the normal, stern expression Kayla was used to seeing on her. Within a moment, Kayla caved in and cleared her throat, "Thank you. That's very kind."

Tonowari's amusement was evident, even letting out a small exhale of a laugh while glancing between the two women after witnessing their silent exchange, "Trust me, Makayla te Suli. Just do what she says from now on and you'll forever be in her good graces."

Ronal's hand moved to rest on her husband's arm and Kayla watched as the tsahik's fingers squeezed ever so slightly, just enough for the olo'eyktan's ear to flick in his mate's direction but nothing more. Clearly, it was meant to act as a warning. Kayla recalled a phrase from back on Earth, tempted to comment "Happy wife, happy life," but she didn't think that'd be very appropriate. Instead, she remains silent and allows the clan leaders to walk away. She doesn't return to her new home until after they have disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~

She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, and upon opening her eyes, she wasn't able to tell the time because it was still dark outside the marui. Kayla carefully moved around in her nivi until she was comfortable again, closing her eyes and hoping sleep would return to her, allowing herself to drift at the feeling of the hammock slowly rocking her. For a moment, she was met with blissful silence until a small injured sound filled the air. The sound that must have woken Kayla up in the first place. Her nose scrunched up before she opened her eyes again and lifted her head to look around, her ears twitching in all directions to locate the sound again.

Having night vision after a lifetime of having difficulty seeing in the dark was still an adjustment no matter how long she lived in this body. Once she wiped the sleep from her eyes, her sight cleared and everything became visible in the dark marui. She finds Spider's nivi immediately, on the other side of the pod, and to no one's surprise, it was where the small whimpers were coming from. Swiftly, Kayla got out of her hammock and purposely made her footsteps over to him louder than normal.

Spider easily woke up before she got to him, his heart hammering in his ears and breathing irregularly. He tried inhaling large gulps of air and once he got a good look at his surroundings, he curled in on himself and eyes Kayla in his peripheral vision.

Kayla steps up to the boy's nivi, whispering, "I'm sorry. You were having a nightmare. Figured you wouldn't want someone shaking you awake."

She was met with silence as the teen continued to focus on taking deep, calming breaths, his mask hissing in response. Kayla wished there was a way to calm him herself, and reached a hand out to do so, "Can I--"

Spider immediately retracts, skittish and determined to avoid her touch, avoiding eye contact. It would seem her instinct not to shake him awake was right and Kayla instantly pulled back her hand, ashamed, "Okay. I'm sorry, kiddo. Listen... whatever it is... or whatever it was, I promise I won't ask until you're ready to talk about it. But you're safe now. It won't happen again."

The same doubt from before returned to his face, and Kayla could only wish there was a way to get him to believe her.

~~~~~~~~~

Spider was less quiet than he had been as of late, but still more reserved than the boy she met when Jake first brought her to High Camp. That, and along with his nightmares, the female avatar was trying to pay closer attention to Spider to see if she could detect and hopefully help with whatever demons he had. From what she could tell so far, Spider bore the same symptoms as any old soldier in the military back home so it wasn't hard for Kayla to figure out what he'd need, but it was going to be a long, slow process. First, she needed the kid to trust her. Jake wasn't far off when he commented that Spider was like a stray cat once upon a time. In an attempt to earn his trust, Kayla was patient and made sure she included him in everything. If he accepted whatever she offered, she'd internally consider that a win.

The idea came from watching Tsireya interact with Spider. An unlikely duo, but Kayla could already see a blooming friendship between the two kind souls. The reef girl came to visit and bring Kayla and Spider some food as her parents promised, and even though she could've easily handed Kayla the basket and gone home, she didn't. Instead, she personally handed Spider the basket, gifting him a small, shy smile and a wave as if she was trying to be friendly but waiting to see if the human boy would respond positively to it. At first, Spider looked surprised that another Na'vi outside of the Sullys was even talking to him, then he looked skeptical, watching her closely and wondering if the reef girl had a motive behind her kind behavior. Then, as if remembering the trauma the two of them had been through together during the battle with the Sky People, Spider began to gently smile back and nodded in gratitude. Tsireya beamed as though she had won the lottery, at least, that's what Kayla would describe it. She highly doubts anyone on this island outside of Jake would know what a lottery was.

After Tsireya had gone home, Kayla formed a strategy in her head, a method as a means of getting Spider to trust her. Watching the chief's daughter cautiously approach Spider reminded Kayla of Jake's stray cat comment, and then she recalled what to do to gain a stray cat's trust. She gave Spider his space, she let him talk whenever he felt like and didn't force him otherwise. If he wanted to be alone, she happily gave him space and never tried to pry any time he woke from his nightmares. Even now, when she had asked him to help her properly weave an armband, she sat back and let Spider go through the familiar motions of creating such an intricate piece, sitting in silence and hoping she was creating a peaceful, comfortable space for him.

After the week of mourning was up, the Sullys began to move back out among the Metkayina again, now officially as part of the clan. One of the first things Jake and his kids decided to do once they felt well enough to leave their home was to walk through the village and visit Kayla's new hut to see how she and Spider were settling into their new surroundings. Tsireya had given Lo'ak directions on how to find the hut, and not before long, they had arrived.

Kayla was sitting just outside her marui and was intently watching the object in Spider's hands as he instructed her on how to properly weave an armband. Her ears twitched at the sound of footsteps approaching and when she looked up, her smile widened into pure glee at the sight of her nieces and nephew running over to them.

Standing up to meet the children, she held her arms out wide, "Welcome to our humble abode!"

The Sully kids quickly tackle Kayla and Spider, excited to see what their aunt's new kelku looks like. Even Spider smiled at their antics. Although it was faint, his fondness was still evident. Immediately, Lo'ak and Tuk drag Spider inside while Kiri calmly follows.

Jake steps up to the pod and lowly whistles, "Nice digs."

"Thanks," Kayla snorts while looking up at the kelku behind her, "I wasn't expecting much but this was... very generous."

"Hey. Don't sell yourself short. They know a hard worker when they see one," he pats his sister's arm until she swatted at him. It didn't bear any heat behind it, just playful sibling antics and it earned her a small chuckle out of him, "Listen-- I was wondering if you and Spider could do me a favor."

"Uh oh."

"Don't give me that. I'm thinking about taking Neytiri flying one of these nights. Once I figure it out, could I leave the kids here?"

"Of course. Just--" she fixes him a concerned look, "You guys aren't going over open water, right?"

"No, nothing like that," he waves her off while looking at the vast line of trees that welcomed him not far off from Kayla's marui, "Just around. Maybe see what that jungle has in store."

She nods with approval, "I found a waterfall while I was exploring in there once. There's a cave behind it with glowing algae."

"Really?"

"I would tell you where to find it..." Her smile slowly spread into a smirk, "But I don't exactly want you and Neytiri sullying such a pretty spot."

"You're no fun."

~~~~~~~~~

For nearly all week, Ronal and Tonowari have been debating with one another on what to do.

They had closely watched the way Kayla protected Spider and kept him close to either the Sully children or herself whenever they were out in public. The human child had never been seen wandering the village alone and perhaps that was for the better, for his safety and the Metkayina's peace of mind. The Sully children, especially Kiri and Lo'ak, clung to him like a baby would to its mother, terrified of being parted. After Tsireya came back home the day she brought Kayla and Spider food, she talked softly and sweetly about Spider, and how he seemed shy but kind. Both of her parents silently agreed with her. Their first real interaction with Spider was much of the same, with the boy showing his respective manners and keeping to himself. He hardly looked threatening, wearing that loincloth and songcord that not even Kayla was proud enough to wear. Her words continued to ring in Ronal's ears and the tsahik had no choice but to agree with her previous statement.

Spider clearly looked as though he belonged among Na'vi. He appeared more accustomed than even Jake and Kayla combined. He was more Na'vi than the dreamwalkers that live among the Omatikaya, despite being small and pink.

He even bore painted blue stripes, making Spider more Na'vi than any Sky Person who claims to love and respect the People, and that thought only troubled Ronal more. She could see the same conflicted emotions on Tonowari's face as well, a strong olo'eyktan who had a difficult decision to make. Both clan leaders had discussed it in great detail. Over the months, they realized why teaching Kayla their ways didn't feel like a hardship, and why they often sought her out even when they didn't need help. They had talked adamantly to one another, as leaders and as mates, what this meant for them and their families. At first, neither of them wanted to say anything, let alone to each other, in case this feeling wasn't mutual. When they finally came to the conclusion that they both felt the same, Ronal and Tonowari agreed that they couldn't ignore this conflicting emotion. They needed to act on it... but as a team.

Even they had to admit that accepting the Sullys as part of the clan wasn't without a hidden motive. Yes, Toruk Makto's son lies with their ancestors now and after everything the Sully family has been through, they deserved a home and a place among the Metkayina. But neither Ronal nor Tonowari could ignore that the real, hidden reason behind allowing the Sullys to stay stemmed from the desire of wishing for Makayla te Suli to stay.

It was late into the afternoon one day when Tsireya and Ao'nung informed their parents that they were going to go see the Sully children. The clan leaders were more than happy to see them off if only to talk among themselves. They had much to discuss.

Both clan leaders talked well into the evening, sharing their thoughts and feelings on the matter. They didn't feel the need to share tsaheylu when they were already so open and honest with one another. They both have come to the agreement that if they truly wanted Kayla to become Metkayina... and get to know her more than just someone who intends to live among their people, then they would have to accept Spider as well.

The tsahik and olo'eyktan had talked for a considerable amount of hours, and when it was time for their children to return, they decided to drop the subject in exchange for searching for their offspring. Their first instinct was to go to the Sully marui only to find that no one was home. Neither Ronal nor Tonowari thought anything of it, chalking the missing children up to mean that they had gone into the jungle to explore. It wouldn't be the first time Tsireya or Rotxo wanted to show the Sully children something from their island, and Ao'nung is usually along for the ride.

Tonowari and Ronal return home and wait. When their children finally returned, Ronal was quick to interrogate them,

"Tsireya, Ao'nung. Where were you this evening?"

The girl tilted her head at her parents, confused but answering the question nonetheless, "With the Sullys, sa'nok."

Ao'nung scoffed, "Like we said."

Tonowari cleared his throat and eyed his son down for the back-talk, further explaining what his wife was trying to relay to their children, "You were not at their marui."

Realization dawned on Tsireya as she finally understood why her parents were worried and immediately explained, "We were at Makayla te Suli's. She was watching the children while their parents were away."

"Away?" Ronal echoed the word, "Where did they go?"

"Something called a 'date night?'"

~~~~~~~~~

"What is a date night?"

Kayla peered up from sharpening her knife, eyes wide like she was a deer caught in headlights, "Huh?"

Not her most intellectual response, but no one could blame her when the tsahik of the Metkayina was asking her a question that threw her for a loop. Ronal raises an eyebrow at her reply, stagnant and waiting almost impatiently for an answer. When Kayla was still too stunned to reply, Ronal huffs slightly and specifies,

"My daughter spoke of Jakesully and his mate going on a date night while you watched their children."

"Oh. That," Kayla shrugged while returning back to her work, "It's basically just time with each other without any of the kids bothering them."

"Do they not think their children are old enough to look after themselves?"

A subtle cloud shifts in Kayla's gaze, darkening her features as her mind begins to drift away, "Past events point to no. Those kids are trouble magnets, and to be honest, after everything they've been through, I wouldn't want them to have the responsibility of looking after each other. I want them to be kids just a little bit longer. They've earned it."

Ronal nodded although Kayla wasn't looking. The avatar was busying herself with testing the sharpness of her knife before digging it into a hunk of driftwood she had fetched from the pocket of her shorts. The tsahik watched her oddly for a time, only speaking up again when Kayla was starting to get frustrated with the item in her hands, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to carve this stupid--" Kayla quickly paused and cleared her throat, "This ridiculous little thing for my songcord."

"Do you have a waytelem?"

Kayla detected the genuine surprise in her voice and chose to indulge her, "A small one."

She digs a hand into one of the pockets of her shorts and pulls her interpretation of a songcord out, letting it go so it dangled from the belt loop she had tied the unfinished end through.

Ronal stared oddly at the item, "It is the size of a child's."

The avatar woman's ears lower to express her embarrassment, "Technically, I haven't finished my Rite of Passage with the Omatikaya so I'm still considered a child. The tsahik of the Omatikaya helped me get it started, but I don't really know what could be considered significant enough to add onto it."

"What is that?" One turquoise finger points to the object woven into the very end of Kayla's songcord.

"A compass. The Sky People use it to navigate. I use it to signify my past life as a marine--" she further explained when Ronal glanced back up at her with the question in her eyes, "Uh, a warrior."

"And this?" The reef woman steps closer and Kayla's skin begins to prickle in the close vicinity she and Ronal now shared. The tsahik had boldly stood directly in front of the vrrtep she once felt indifference to, or maybe she wasn't being bold but lacked personal space. Either way, Kayla was now very much aware of the heat radiating off the other woman's body, brushing the hairs on the avatar's skin. When she finally managed to register Ronal's question, she glanced down to see what else the tsahik was pointing at on her songcord.

Kayla swallowed the dryness in her throat as she answered, "A piece of gear from my brother Tommy's wristwatch. It's a... it's a device we use to tell the time of day and night."

Ronal doesn't miss the way Kayla's voice appeared to tighten when she echoed a strange name that only the Sky People would name a child and decided not to acknowledge it. Instead, she focuses on the piece of driftwood in Kayla's hand that she was trying to whittle for the waytelem.

"And what is that meant to represent?"

Kayla's eyes don't meet Ronal's as her fingers protectively wrap around the small item, muttering under her breath, "Neteyam."

Water lapping along the beach and children's laughter in the distance fills whatever silence settles between the two women. Ronal pointedly keeps her head bowed out of respect at the very mention of the young life lost to the sea, while also doing her best to respect Kayla's privacy. Internally, the alien woman was thankful for this, thankful that out of all of the things Ronal tended to pry on, this wasn't one of them. Kayla takes a moment to compose herself, inhaling a deep breath of air through her stomach, all the while staring down at the driftwood she now gently grazed with her thumb. She doesn't linger for long after that, exhaling quickly and rolling her shoulders to indicate her small moment of sadness had passed, faintly smiling up at the tsahik beside her,

"I'm trying to make a bead out of it. But cutting and smoothing it down is tougher than it looks."

Ronal straightened her own posture and quickly moved onto the topic Kayla was using as a distraction without any other thoughts, "I will help with your songcord."

"You don't have--" Quickly, she corrects herself when Ronal raises one eyebrow in defiance. Kayla simply nods, "Thank you."

Without another word of acknowledgment, Ronal bends down and fiddles with her skirt. Kayla watches curiously as the reef woman swiftly clips off a shell from her clothing without ripping the delicate, beautiful handiwork. The shell looked so tiny in the palm of Ronal's hand as she held it out to Makayla as an offering, her face impassive when Kayla glanced up for permission or reassurance. Ronal only nods once, "To resemble your acceptance into our clan."

Shock dawns over Kayla's reaction until it melts into something gentle; something sweet. Ronal forces the muscles in her face to remain expressionless as gratitude radiates off Kayla's growing smile. The avatar silently takes the shell from her, and together they kneel to the ground and get to work on perfecting Kayla's songcord, Ronal keeping an eye on the way Kayla shifted her weight around on her foot, but otherwise remaining silent. Kayla no longer had a bandage around her ankle, and she appeared not to notice any pain, so the tsahik internally deduced that the avatar was on the mend and left it at that.

For the most part, they worked in silence until Ronal would voice her opinion or instruction on how Kayla should weave the pieces together. Using the tsahik and the advice Spider had given her earlier, the Sully woman managed to perfect the wooden bead and incorporate it into the waytelem before moving on to the shell.

As she worked, she stubbornly ignored Ronal's eyes practically branding onto her skin, making themselves at home there and never once diverting their attention elsewhere. Kayla's skin prickled under the other woman's gaze, and her stomach flipped whenever her eyes glanced up and met hers. It was hard to describe how she felt about the unwavering stare Ronal must have mastered over the years, and even harder to describe how she felt with those eyes on her. Kayla knows how it feels when she's uncomfortable or intimidated... but this wasn't it. She didn't feel either of those things around Ronal, at least not anymore, so whatever she was feeling, it wasn't bad. It only bothered her that she couldn't properly explain it, not even to herself.

Once Kayla was tightening the last bit of thread around the shell and securing it into her songcord, Ronal hummed in approval, straightening her aching back when it was getting too irritated from hovering over the alien woman as she worked. Kayla looked up, beaming under the tsahik's approval before handing the waytelem over to her.

The only evidence to prove Ronal was shocked by this behavior was the small rise of her brow ridge and quick twitch in her ears. The tsahik eyed Kayla carefully with the new item in hand, looking to see if there was any distrust or plan behind this exchange. Kayla only kept still and stared back, her eyes glancing down at the songcord she had given Ronal before flicking back up to meet hers, motioning for the tsahik to inspect the item more closely. Ronal hesitantly looked away as her thumb grazed over the songcord, feeling each bead, each thread, and even the odd, alien-made objects Kayla insisted on adding. The grooves on the object Kayla had called a gear were strange but interesting. Ronal found herself continuously running her thumb over it, just to feel the divets and smoothness of the small piece of metal.

"Have you created a song to go with it?" She asked without looking up from the songcord.

"It's a work in progress. I can easily list off each bead and milestone like a story... but turning it into lyrics is difficult for me. I don't sing let alone make my own songs."

Ronal nodded and finally handed the songcord back to its owner, her stomach warm from having the honor to hold and touch the other woman's life story quite literally in her own hands. Perhaps the gesture was what pushed her boldness forward once more, opening her mouth before she could think, "Tonowari and I have been discussing and we want to offer you some peace of mind."

Kayla's eyebrows furrow, "Oh?"

"Yes. Tonight. At eclipse. We will take you to Ranteng Utralti ourselves."

"The Spirit Tree?" Kayla repeated with a small burst of suspicion, tilting her head, "... Why?"

Ronal thinks back to that tragic day when she watched the Sully family bury their child, brother, and nephew. She recalled the concern she felt when she watched Jakesully and his mate dive into the water to connect to the Spirit Tree, but Kayla hadn't followed. She remained behind with Spider and Kiri, and while Ronal didn't have the means to help the human boy and Sully girl connect with Eywa to see their departed brother and friend, Ronal hoped she could still provide Makayla some form of closure,

"You deserve the same respect as any member of your nephew's family does. You have the right to see him one last time."

~~~~~~~~~

After accepting Ronal's invitation, Kayla first went looking for Kiri, Lo'ak, and Spider. She easily spotted the three teenagers kneeling just on the edge of a rock edge, the water of the lagoon gently rising and falling beneath them as the tide came in, brushing over the rock now padded with soft, comfortable algae. As Kayla approached, she could faintly hear Lo'ak's voice over the wind, and while she couldn't make out any full sentences, she was able to understand enough to know that he was likely teaching Spider a few simple lessons about some of the aquatic life around the reef. As long as Spider was safe behind his breathing mask, he didn't need to learn how to hold his breath underwater, so Kiri and Lo'ak felt more determined to teach their friend everything else they had learned while living among the Metkayina. Already, Spider was showing signs of adapting to this new life, and it wasn't much of a surprise. Spider was clearly a good listener, intent on grasping on to any new information that fascinated him. It was an even sweeter lesson to have his best friends be his teachers so they could make up for lost time.

As Kayla drew closer, she raised her voice enough to call out to the three children, "Kiri."

All three heads perked up at her voice but only Kiri responded when Kayla had motioned her to come closer. Kiri broke away from Lo'ak and Spider, the boys' attention falling back to the water while the teenage girl approached her aunt, "Yes, Auntie?"

Kayla shyly smiled down at her, "Could you and Lo'ak do me a favor and stay with Spider in my pod tonight?"

Excitement beamed from Kiri's smile, "It sounds like fun. But where will you be?" The excitement suddenly dropped and sadness took its place, her ears lowering into her nest of wild hair, "You're not leaving yet, are you?"

Kayla paused to choose her next words carefully. She didn't want to lie to the girl, but she also didn't want Kiri to know she was going to the Spirit Tree, knowing that it would make her sad or possibly jealous-- if the teenager even felt such an emotion. She shook her head, "No, not yet. The tsahik and olo'eyktan wish to show me something."

Even Kayla could admit that it wasn't the smartest or most eloquent choice of words, and her embarrassment only grew when a small, mischievous smile dawned on Kiri's face, "Are you having a date night, too?"

"That is NOT what I said."

~~~~~~~~~

Nervous flutters began to turn in her stomach when Kayla walked down the beach that night to find Tonowari and Ronal already there, waiting for her. The beach was quiet apart from the glowing waves gently crashing into the sand, kissing the legs of the clan leaders as they stood knee-deep in the water. Kayla took a deep breath and stepped into the ocean, letting the water rise up to her as she sunk in deeper. The anticipation and dread of going to the Spirit Tree drove Kayla to pick at her nails until she had an ilu beneath her, and then she was able to distract herself by hanging on.

The tsahik and olo'eyktan lead the way upon their separate ilu, and Kayla makes sure not to fall behind. The journey was quicker than she remembered on the day they said goodbye to Neteyam, but she chalked it up to being a horrible day overall. By the time she wrapped her head around the fact that she would actually get to see Neteyam again, the three adults had already arrived at the Cove of the Ancestors, and then a small bit of fear began to fester and squeeze Kayla's heart.

Ronal and Tonowari slip off their ilu, so Kayla follows suit, slowly swimming just at the surface of the ocean, her head above water, and treading over to the Metkayina pair. Looking down, she can see her slow, kicking feet, morphed from the water and keeping her upright. Beneath her feet, however, was the beautiful, swaying, bioluminescent Spirit Tree. Ranteng Utralti.

Ronal swims up to Kayla as the avatar woman marvels at the sight below her, "Remember. Once you are connected, you will not have to worry about holding your breath. The Spirit Tree provides air as you connect with our ancestors."

"The connection can sometimes feel intense or shocking once you break away, causing you to forget the need to hold your breath," Tonowari nodded with encouragement, gently urging her forward with just his eyes, "We will watch over you if that happens."

Kayla looks between the two and nods, taking a moment to collect herself and suck in a large gulp of air before vanishing beneath the water. As she dives down to the Spirit Tree, she begins to get nervous, her heart wanting to leap up into her throat. A small bit of comfort washed over her, knowing that Ronal and Tonowari kept a vigil watch from above while she connected to a tendril of the tree. Taking her kuru braid and connecting the tswin to the nearest branch held out to her, Kayla relaxed and closed her eyes.

The moment she opened them again, she found herself sitting on the floor of High Camp, miles away from the Cove and from the Metkayina village. Confusion wrapped around her brain as she looked around, wondering what she was doing there. She was alone, watching everyone, both human and Na'vi, go about their day as normal, the cold floor of the cave bleeding into her legs. She heard shuffling just beyond her vision, and when she turned her head to look directly in front of her, the breath in her stomach clenched and burned upon the sight she found.

It was Neteyam, young and as strong as ever. The beads in his hair softly clinked together when his head moved, his cummerbund snug around his torso, and above all else... not a speck of blood on him. He sat cross-legged as she did, across from her, smiling with encouragement. He was in the middle of talking when Kayla had finally begun to focus on his voice,

"--Now, let's try a K word. Kewong."

For a moment, words had escaped her, Kayla's brain still having trouble trying to comprehend her dead nephew sitting right in front of her. When she replayed his words in her head, she realized why they sounded familiar. This was a memory, one of the first ones she shared with Neteyam when she arrived in Pandora. She remembered that he took time out of his day to mentor her one-on-one, teaching her how to speak Na'vi.

Without another thought, she responded the same way she did back then, "Ketwong."

"Mm, try again. Ketuwong." He repeats.

"Ketuwong."

"No. Listen closely. Ke-"

"Ke-"

"Wong-"

"Wong-!" Kayla stammered as she noticed something, "Wait, no, you definitely said ketuwong before."

"I did no such thing, Auntie. I said kewong."

"Kewong."

"No. Ketuwong."

She snarls, with little to no heat, "Kid, I am five seconds away from pulling your tail out of its joint socket--"

He laughed, loud and genuine, one of his hands clutching his side while using the other to wave off her frustration. Eventually, he calmed down enough to speak, "Alright, alright. You are right. I was saying both to tease you. But they both mean the same thing."

"Oh." She paused, then tilted her head, "Why do you have two words that mean the same thing?"

"I could say the same thing about your language," Neteyam smirked. Kayla stopped and took a moment to find a rebuttal, but couldn't, then made a touché motion with her shoulders. Neteyam continued to explain, "I believe Norm calls them adjectives and nouns."

"Oh."

"Yes. Ketuwong is the noun and kewong is the adjective."

"What do they mean?"

"'Alien.'"

Kayla stiffened, "Oh."

Something shifts in Neteyam's features, something Kayla hadn't noticed the first time she lived through this moment. He watched her closely, carefully, before moving on with the lesson as if trying to distract her. Perhaps she first mistook the expression for pity, but now, after getting to know her oldest nephew, Kayla could see that Neteyam felt compassion and sympathy, understanding that his aunt struggled with feeling indifferent to him and the people around him.

"Let's move on. I'll say a phrase you'll likely hear in passing. 'Ma sempul tsmuke.'"

"I recognize sempul. That's 'father', right?" She mimicked the tone of voice she made back then, fully immersed in the memory now.

"Yes. What I said can be translated to 'my father's sister.' We don't have a word for 'aunt' so that's how we would properly address or introduce you."

She shrugged while her eyes focused down at her fingers, much different from Neteyam's hand, "You could technically say 'ma sempul kewong tsmuke.'"

"'My father's alien sister?'" He translated, testing the words on his tongue before shaking his head, allowing his braids to spill over his shoulders, "That is a lot to say, and it wouldn't be truthful."

"Wouldn't it?"

"No, because you are a Suli," he firmly states with an encouraging smile, "You look different, but we share the same blood. You're no less of an alien than the rest of us. Besides, at the rate you are learning, you will be Omatikaya sooner than later, and then you will truly be one of us. You'll be less of an alien by then. The point is, how can you be alien when you are family?"

Warmth blooms in Kayla's chest, remembering this moment as the moment she first began to See her nephew and grow fond of her brother's children, whom she had once felt so estranged to. It was odd looking back and thinking how she ever felt alien to them in the first place. There were times when she had forgotten that she hadn't known these children their whole lives, but sometimes it felt like she had.

"You're wiser than you let on, did you know that?" She smiled.

"And what is the Na'vi word for 'wise', Auntie?"

"Hafyonga'."

"Good." He nods in approval, smiling back, "You are wise, too."

She hesitates, not wanting to break the script, but also wishing to say the things she wished she had said when Neteyam was still alive. This was the moment she dreaded when she realized Ronal and Tonowari wanted to bring her here, knowing she needed to do this to say goodbye.

When she opened her mouth again, the words that came out were not the ones she originally said in the memory, "... I wish there was a word for 'nephew.'"

"Why?" He tilts his head with curiosity, unaware of the change in memory and script.

"So I can say 'I love you, nephew' in Na'vi."

"Do not worry," he comforts gently, "We'll find a way. We have a lot of time to figure it out."

Even if he didn't know it, his words were such a dreadful reminder of all the time they had lost. Kayla's heart was beginning to break, tears welling up in her eyes and cutting through her cheeks, the walls she had built to keep her grief out finally caving in. Her voice remained strong, however, forcing herself to speak clear sentences to make sure her nephew heard them,

"I wish we did, 'Teyam. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Auntie?"

"Nga yawne lu oer."

She pulls away from the memory, away from Neteyam, afraid that if she reached out to hug him, it wouldn't be the same as if he were actually alive. She couldn't put herself through that pain, knowing her brother and Neytiri would have to feel it every day for the rest of their lives. Neteyam's face vanishes, as does High Camp and the people around them. Everything shrinks until it becomes one tunnel of light, and then Kayla is back to reality, struggling for air as her tswin disconnects from the Spirit Tree.

Immediately, she panics, disoriented and trying to figure out where she is and why she can't breathe. Two arms, both ranging in different lengths and sizes, appear in her blurry vision, reaching to grab both of her own and drag her up through the water. Faintly, Kayla realized she was being led back up to the surface, and the thought of air being just out of reach made her lungs burn. Looking up, she faintly made out the shapes that were Tonowari and Ronal, and just as her head broke through the surface, she remembered where she was and who she was with, but it hardly mattered.

When she broke the surface, Kayla found herself uncontrollably sobbing, quickly reminding herself to kick and move her arms and legs to swim by herself, but otherwise kept sobbing.

Her two companions immediately swam close to inspect her, but she couldn't find it within herself to care. Both of the clan leaders were in shock by the state of the avatar woman. She was crying, tears running down her already wet cheeks, the ocean rising to gently caress her chin in comfort as she kept herself afloat just above the surface. Ronal and Tonowari watch her with concern, letting her weep as the grief finally bled out. The three stayed that way for a while, keeping themselves afloat above water, close in a circle with no sounds other than the ocean and Kayla's cries. As her sobs slowed to a stop, Kayla finally blinked and began looking around, occasionally sniffling as her bright pink-rimmed eyes scanned her surroundings. Her eyebrow hairs furrowed together, wrinkling her forehead, bottom lip trembling from the waves of emotion that just washed through her.

Tonowari noted in the back of his mind how young and innocent she looked like this... and yet she still looked as hard-ridden and stonewalled as ever. Simply put, Kayla looked miserable. She looked like someone who had seen war, death, and disease and her heart had been hardened by it. She looked like someone who kept her emotions close and private until it had suddenly become unbearable, the volcano erupting and bearing down everything she had kept bottled up inside. Tonowari spared a moment to glance over at Ronal, to which she did the same and he could clearly see through her eyes that his mate was thinking the same thing.

Once Kayla managed to catch her breath, she croaked to the clan leaders swimming in front of her, "Thank you."

Tonowari felt one of his hands twitch when the idea to reach out to Kayla struck him, but immediately stamped down the thought in exchange for equally comforting words, "Did it help?"

"I-- I think so." She stammered, reaching her hands up to wipe away the grief from her closed eyes, exhaling loudly when the cool water brought a bit of relief to her hot, puffy face.

They swim to the nearest surface to allow Kayla to rest and get a hold of herself, finding a small hill of rock and grass that had not yet evolved into one of the floating mountains hovering above their heads. Kayla looked younger once more with the way she curled her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs as her eyes watched the water beneath her, distracted and far away in her head.

"They don't have that back home," she finally said, drawing her companions to look up and patiently wait for her to continue, "On Earth... there's no way for the Sky People to reach out to our loved ones after they're gone. They're just... gone. Forever. I wanted to treat Neteyam the same way. It's just what I'm used to. I thought if I treated Neteyam as though I was never going to see him again as someone would back on Earth, it would hurt less."

Ronal's nose scrunched up, confused and affronted by the idea of life in another world, "How do you learn your history if you can not speak with your ancestors?"

"You guys record history through songcords, all the good and bad. You say nothing but the truth without leaving anything out so that the Na'vi can learn from past mistakes."

Something shifts in her eyes then, the way Kayla's glare practically burns through a spot in the water as if she was trying to evaporate it to teach the ocean a lesson. Her words are full of distaste, "The Sky People write down their history, but... sometimes, they don't write it down truthfully. The Sky People lie and sometimes purposefully erase our history, so they can just continue to form our world the way they want it and just repeat our mistakes all over again. Eventually, children stopped learning about our history in school.... and now we learn nothing except how to become one mind and machine. The Sky People don't want us to think for ourselves anymore. It makes us more compliant."

"That is horrible," Ronal hisses in horror and revulsion, "A horrible way to live."

Kayla simply scoffs, resigned to it all, "Sky People don't know how to live. They just know how to manage."

Tonowari's frown went unnoticed by the two women during their conversation, so he didn't feel the need to hide it, especially when he was in agreeance with his mate. He also felt pity for Kayla, thinking about the world she grew up in without any means of contacting your loved ones from beyond the grave. It made him wonder just how many people Kayla and Jakesully lost that they will never be able to speak to again, "Do you have anyone from your home world you wish you could talk to beyond the grave?"

Kayla didn't even appear to think about it, her hand traveling down to her songcord and gently fondling the gear she had woven into it, "Tommy. My other brother. Jake's twin."

"I wasn't aware Jakesully had a twin brother." Tonowari comments.

"He died long before Jake ever came here with the Sky People. I wish... if Tommy had to die, I wish he had gone to Eywa so that I could talk to him."

Ronal leans forward and places a hand on the other woman's shoulder, "We believe that we are all born twice."

"Yeah, I know. It just wouldn't be the same."

The comment hangs heavy with the clan leaders, struck by Kayla's words as if she had slapped them, but they didn't appear offended. They looked at her as if they were seeing something new and astonishing for the first time like someone had just told them a new story. Looking at one another, both Ronal and Tonowari realize they are both thinking the same thing. The way Kayla thinks and looks at their way of life is a way they hadn't thought of before.

Kayla didn't appear to notice the crisis going through her clan leaders' minds as she suddenly registered Ronal's hand on her shoulder. Gently brushing the tsahik off, Kayla gets up and looks to the ocean, clearly indicating the end of one conversation and the start of departure, "Thank you for this. Truly. You didn't have to, but you did."

Tonowari breaks from Ronal's gaze and nods, "We wanted to."

"We want you to feel at home here." Ronal quickly adds to her husband's sentiment.

Kayla tilts her head and squints her eyes back down at the other woman, suspicious again, "Even though I--"

"You are not of the Sky People anymore. Even if you looked like them, you think differently."

"I do look like them. I'm a dreamwalker," the avatar reminds them, "When I go to sleep and cut off my connection, I'm taken back to the body I was born in. My 'demon' body."

"And when you are back in that body, do you suddenly think differently?" Ronal asked.

"Well-- no." Kayla backtracked a little, humming when a thought crossed her mind, "Although, I do think about how hungry I am as a human compared to a Na'vi."

She smiles to herself, proud when she gets Tonowari to laugh and Ronal to pull a small smile. The tsahik continues once more, "Then you are still not of the Sky People. You may have different bodies. But you have the same heart and mind."

Kayla wanted to scoff and ask the tsahik and olo'eyktan if they wanted to tell Neytiri that in defense of Spider, but she thought wisely against it and bit her tongue, only smiling and nodding at the pair in gratitude.

Tonowari stood up next, extending an arm out to the ocean, "Let us accompany you home."

Kayla accepts and assists Tonowari with helping Ronal stand up, and then the three return to the ocean. Once on her ilu and swimming away, Kayla only spared one glance back at the Cove, refraining from waving as she parted from the Spirit Tree and from Neteyam. Looking ahead once more, she felt lighter for the first time in what felt like weeks, less worried about what the future holds, and more willing to just go where the current takes her.

A/N: Okay, so here's the deal. I preordered Frontiers of Pandora and I have it, but I haven't been able to play it in between holiday gatherings, events, and two jobs. So I thought I'd quickly update this fic and use it as an announcement. I plan on taking a short hiatus so I can play to my heart's content along with Baldur's Gate 3 since that is a game I use to connect and hang out with my friends and I'd like to hang out with them for the holidays. I hope to have more free time after the new year starts.

In the meantime, feel free to continue asking non-spoiler questions about the fic and I will be more than happy to answer!

Please keep checking my pinned post for updates/announcements and dm/inbox me for taglist or requests!

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nomazee · 6 months

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hihi!! i love ur writing sm and was wondering if u could do a chuuya x also mafia executive reader (similar to the dazai friends to lovers u did a bit ago) with the unestablished relationship but so obviously in love trope

thank u sm!!

i went so overboard omfg FORGIVE ME... i hope this is cohesive i kept working at it at like deep into the night so it's a little hazy omg but i loved this so much im such a sucker for this trope and chuuya and dazai are like the best characters for this kind of genre i feel

pairing: chuuya x gn reader word count: 2.8k content: fluff, hurt/comfort (an abundance of it), friends-to-lovers, mentions of sickness (vomiting, fever, etc), domestic fluff, sweet stuff, also hand-wavey teenage timeline because i didn't read all of stormbringer forgive me...

°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.

“They said they might promote me, did you hear?”

Chuuya glances to the side at the sudden sound of your voice. You’re leaning over his shoulder from behind him, face mere inches from his as you grin widely. He has to fight the twitches of his own lips to stop himself from smiling back. “And who’s they, exactly?”

“Oh, you know. The grapevine. Just some whispers in the organization. And Kouyou.” You lean back, the radiating warmth of your body suddenly escaping Chuuya. He walks behind you as you make your way down the hallway, a little jump in your step as you recount the news to him.

“It’s what you get for working so hard. Guess it paid off.”

“You think I’m hardworking! You’re a flatterer, Chuuya Nakahara.”

“Sure am,” he quips back with amusement. Banter with you is different than with Dazai. With you, it’s lighthearted, and silly, and makes him feel like he’s fourteen and messing around with the Sheep again. With Dazai, it’s… charged, and fast-paced, and builds up a kind of aggravated energy within him that works well in fights but not in a room of Kouyou’s antiques.

“But guess what,” you start again, looking over your shoulder where Chuuya follows close behind. Your pace slows down to let him catch up to you and walk side-by-side, now. “I think you’ve got a good chance, too. You’ve got some executive qualities, you know?”

It makes Chuuya pause for a moment, because he hasn’t really thought about it before. After the mess that was the Sheep, he hadn’t considered taking up any kind of leadership or executive position in the Port Mafia. It wasn’t really his thing—too much work, too much responsibility. And as much as he loathed to admit it, it would probably mean even less time to spend with you and Dazai. Being mentored by different people already limited your time with each other.

He tries not to think too hard about the implications of it—of you and Dazai working under Mori’s hands while Chuuya gets Kouyou’s firm, but gentler palms. A vague kind of sickness washes over him that he tries to shake off.

“I don’t know about that. I think I do better in a quieter position, don't you think?”

“Nothing is quiet about you. Especially not with that partner of yours,” you joke back. “I could put in a good word for you! Once I get promoted, I’ll have, like, a bunch of power and influence, and I’ll be all high and mighty, and you and me and Dazai can all take care of the Port Mafia and be all cool, and everything.”

It’s a pipe dream. Both of you know that. Chuuya knows best about your hidden resentment of this organization and all that it stands for, all that it does. He’s heard whispers about your plans to take over—plans that would never come to fruition. Plans that were more like dreams and wishes and hopes. Something to get you through the day. The budding smile on his face falters when he turns and sees that distant look in your eyes. A sigh bubbles in his chest, but he holds it down.

“Hey, slow down. You don’t even know if you’re getting the position or not.” His comment is met with a roll of your eyes and a chest-deep groan. You launch into a big speech about how qualified you are for the job, and all the different things you’d institute as a mafia executive (nap time, stress room with cats, petting zoo, iced tea dispensers), and Chuuya nods along and laughs for as long as he can.

===

You do, in fact, get promoted to an executive, but at the cost of a lot of things. Dazai leaves the mafia with no warning to you or Chuuya. You don't see him at all for two weeks leading up to his defection, and it all happens in a blur that leaves your head swimming with vertigo and your body much too frail to handle everything.

Chuuya finds you sobbing in your en suite bathroom, kneeling on the floor and crying so hard that you’re dry heaving. He hasn’t seen you like this before. Even in your rare moments of vulnerability, it was never something so visceral and uncensored. He stands in the doorway, looking down at you, and freezes. His palms itch with the desire to do something, something that he hasn’t learned.

“You… Hey, hey,” Chuuya drops to the floor once he snaps out of his daze, crouching next to your curled up form as you shake with the force of your tears. He tentatively reaches out a hand, easing onto your shoulder. When you don’t give any sort of negative reaction, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for an embrace.

It’s odd. This isn’t something that the three of you did. For all that you and him and Dazai kicked and pushed and shoved each other jokingly, this kind of touch is unfamiliar. It’s scalding in the way that sitting in front of a space heater in the dead of winter burns you.

He shushes you like a child because he’s not sure what else to say. He’s just as shaken by Dazai’s defection, but he knew that you and Dazai had become so close over the last few years. Being trained under Mori together does that. His chest squeezes at the sight of you like this, broken down and shivering and sick at the loss of your friend.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. Shhh, it’s— it’s okay.”

Chuuya smooths a hand over the top of your head, sliding down to rest between your shoulderblades. His mouth presses against your temple in a gentle kiss, feeling how cold and clammy your skin has gotten. He doesn’t know how to heal you. His hands are made to weigh people down and hurt and subdue, and he’s not sure if he can handle the gentler things like holding you and swathing you in blankets and cooking you soup.

But, he thinks with a renewed determination. There’s no harm in trying.

Three months later, you take Dazai’s executive position at the age of nineteen. Chuuya follows suit after another year and a half and becomes executive at twenty. You only think of Dazai when your head swims in gin and when you can’t feel the heat of Chuuya’s hands near you.

===

The both of you find yourselves in Chuuya’s apartment drinking the night away. At this point, you’re both twenty-one, and being in the mafia has offered you countless resources for alcohol and the like. A warm haze has blanketed you as you take another sip of whatever sweet fruity drink Chuuya has concocted for you. He drinks a glass of wine, because he’s weird and bougie, which you tell him straightforwardly.

“Wine’s just an acquired taste,” he tells you.

“It’s glorified grape juice. It tastes like yeast.”

“That’s… kind of what it is.”

You laugh so hard that tears bead in your eyes and you hit him on the shoulder hard enough to bruise. It’s not even that funny, really, and he wasn’t even trying to make you laugh, but it’s so late into the night that you don’t even know what time it is and everything is funny when you’re this drunk.

“I’m hungry, Chuuya. I miss your soup,” you say, a whine in your voice as you throw your head back against the armrest of the couch. You’re stretched out on his velvet upholstered couch with your feet in his lap, and he’s been tracing circles against your bare shins while some documentary plays in the background on the TV. “You haven’t cooked for me in forever. I thought it was your duty as a househusband to cook every night, or something.”

“Hey! I’m not anyone’s househusband,” he shouts in protest. When you push your head up from the armrest to glance at him, his tanned face is flushed a warm red and his brow is furrowed in playful indignation and you’re struck with the urge to bite him like a chew toy. Instead, you let out a soft kind of laugh and roll your eyes.

“Yeah, you are. You’re my husband. Have been since the day I met you.” In a burst of newfound energy, you propel yourself up and off the couch, swinging your legs off his lap and standing up. “Let’s go make some soup. Your pantry’s probably stocked, right? Since you’re on top of all your housekeeping.”

“Geez. You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Of course not! Come on. You have to teach me how to cook now.”

Chuuya has reserved bone broth in his freezer, because of course he does. You submerge a container of it in hot water and wait for it to defrost while he helps you dice and saute vegetables in a pressure cooker.

(“Don't pressure cookers, like, explode, or something?”

“...who taught you that.”)

It’s a miracle you can even use a knife safely, because your head is still swimming a little bit and the line of empty bottles on the coffee table taunts you and your bad decisions. You also blame it for the way you stick close to Chuuya, bumping your hips together and leaning your head on his shoulder for a few fleeting moments until the pressure cooker starts hissing.

He serves you a heaping bowl and when you tell him you’ll puke if you eat the whole thing, he pushes the bowl at you from across the counter and says, “I’ll guess I’ll just clean your puke for you too, then.”

“Gross. You’re really a househusband if you’re brave enough to do that.”

“Househusband this, househusband that. All I do is cook.”

“And clean up the vomit of your lovely lovely spouse.”

“Sure,” he says, and he turns back to you and puts his own bowl next to yours. Then, in a swift, undeterred motion, he reaches across the kitchen island, over both steaming bowls of soup and kisses you straight on the mouth. It shocks you right into lucidity, eyes blown wide and lips nearly parting at the sudden contact. Before you can really think about it, Chuuya pulls back, circling around the kitchen island to sit next to you with two spoons so you can both eat. “As long as that lovely lovely spouse is you.”

You feel—light. Airy, sick, nauseous, more at peace than you have been in the last three years. A stupid smile starts forming on your face and you hide your giddy laughs into your soup.

Chuuya would never act like this sober, you think, still cherishing the little moment you have. Thankfully, you’re proven wrong when he keeps doing it—walking you back to your apartment the next day, going out to a mafia-affiliated diner the next week, in an empty meeting room after everyone has left.

===

Another year passes. You find yourself in the throes of the cannibalism incident—not as a bystander, but as a victim. Because that’s just your luck, really.

You don’t know how you were caught in the crossfire between Fyodor and Mori, but somehow you were infected with the cannibalism virus and bedridden for nearly three days, in-and-out of consciousness while you hoped and prayed that somebody would save you. For the entirety of the conflict, you were left alone in the PM infirmary, sweating off your perpetual fever and coughing up stomach bile into a metal garbage can.

It was awful. There’s no blame to put on anyone, though. Everyone who was able to stand was on the front lines, so to speak, and from what you understood you weren’t as big of a target as Mori. Three days alone in a sterile bed was worth it for the survival of the organization.

At the end of it all, in the calm after the storm, sitting in your dorm, Chuuya visits you.

You don’t look too great, still recovering physically and emotionally, but you can’t find it in you to care. The second you hear the familiar cadence of his knock and the shuffling of his stupid heeled boots, you rip the door open and are met with his wide-eyed expression.

“Hey,” he says, and you burst into tears because god. It hasn’t hit you until now, seeing him in front of you, his warmth radiating from his hands as they reach out to hold you, but you could’ve died or he could’ve died and then what would’ve happened? Years and years of knowing each other, seeing each other at your worst, taking care of each other. Cooking in your kitchen and sleeping on his couch and kissing him like it meant nothing. It could’ve all been gone.

The mafia isn’t a safe occupation to begin with, but this entire thing has made you realize how fleeting everything is. So you sob, and you let him hold you and bring you to the couch, and you let yourself be weak.

“Hey,” he says again, tone now placating, gloved hands resting on the back of your head and between your shoulder blades as he sits next to you on the couch. You have no regard for where your body is right now, legs sprawled out somewhere beneath you and arms reaching up to grab at Chuuya’s clothes in any way you can. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

You cough wetly into his shoulder, a whine forming from between your violent sobs. Your body shakes with the remnants of your sickness and the exhaustion of the week and a small voice in the back of your head tells you that it’s embarrassing, that it’s unbecoming of a mafia executive to be so affected.

Death threats and poisonings and shootings—you deal with it every week. You choke out another whine of distress as you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids in an attempt to quell the tears. It doesn’t work. You’re still weak, no matter how hard you hurt.

“Shit, Chuuya,” you cough out a weak sob, shivers wracking your body as the weight of everything crashes onto you. “I was so sick. I was alone. I thought I would die. God.” You pull back from his hold to rub at your eyes with your raw palms.

“Stop that,” Chuuya says, with a gentleness you swear you haven’t heard in so long but in truth it’s been with you for the last two years. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Cold fingers wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face.

The white-hot heat of embarrassment scalds the back of your neck. You feel like a scolded child with the pitying look he gives you, and with your hands locked between his there’s no way to hide.

“Stop,” you tell him, “quit it, Chuuya,” and you don’t know what you’re begging for, but it’s the lowest you’ve ever felt—a feared member of the mafia on their knees crying and asking for some kind of mercy.

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” he mumbles, and he pulls you just a bit closer with the grip he has on your hands. His chin rests on top of your head and you shove your face into the crook of his neck.

For once, he doesn’t smell like his gross luxury perfume. He smells like your laundry detergent and grass and the city and even more tears spill over your cheeks. Your fingers curl into his and you clench his knuckles until you feel them creak through the gloves.

“I wouldn't let you die,” Chuuya’s voice is no more than a whisper, but it’s the most determined you’ve heard him sound. “I wouldn’t let it happen.”

“I don’t need your protection,” and it’s a weak protest, and you’re grasping at straws to argue with him and push him away and make him stop before you make yourself sick with how hard you’re sobbing. You feel one hand slip from yours and slide up between your shoulderblades and start trailing along the nape of your neck, tracing circles in a lulling gesture.

“I know you don't,” he says, “but I would really like it if you let me. Just once in a while. Let me cook you soup alone and wash your face and clean your hair. All that stupid stuff.”

You cough out a weak laugh. Your househusband shtick from a year ago comes back to you, and so do all the warm evenings spent together in the kitchen and the kisses left on his cheek and the ones left on yours. You feel the warm press of his mouth against your temple and let out your last weak sob before you hold him tight again, squeeze him hard against you to make sure he’s still there. And that’s where he’ll stay.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x you #bsd oneshot #chuuya oneshot #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #nakahara chuuya x you

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wyllsravengard · 1 month

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mutuals i know you don't know arthur morgan and a lot of you never will but i really need you to know how Moving and Compelling the cowboy game is like im being deranged of course and i do hyperfixate so often but arthur morgan is such a well written character he has such an amazing arc and genuinely it makes me sick thinking about him for more than a single minute. his entire story is based in this inevitable doom and its obvious from the beginning of the game that things are starting to go wrong. you learn about arthur slowly, and at the start - he's exactly the kind of man and protagonist you expect. he's cold and he's uncaring at least seemingly and he's awkward and he's badass and what every man who plays a game like this would want. but then he isn't. you start to play the game and you look at arthurs journal and you get to see him introspect and you get to view the sort of tenderness he sees the entire world with. he is so tender he is so thoughtful he is so considerate of nature and he takes so many things to heart. he has something to say and introspect of everyone he meets. he cares deeply about this world he's in and struggles so much to find a place with in. he admonishes himself and praises characters like charles who seem to be so good naturally. he believes deeply in his own evil and acts on, and he has a code sure - but he never feels good about what he does and it causes him such deep strife. he clings onto the life he has because its all he knows. being an outlaw is all he has ever known of himself, been like that since he was fourteen. just a boy and the two men who adopted him into his gang. he clings so desperately onto this belief that even when things fall apart, all arthur can hope for is that he can save those he cares about. its what he has always wanted deep down. its who he is which is someone who is sensitive and careful and wants deeply to live in a good world and be apart of a good world. the gang falls apart and everything goes to shit and where does that leave arthur? when young men and good men die? the man he admires as his father dies and whats left of them becomes the worst version of himself and so arthur, after all of this time, becomes his own man. at some point, he realizes what matters most to him is his brother and the woman he has a child with. and he realizes that he is simply afraid but what of exactly? of believing that he was good all along. of accepting that he has changed and that he was always good. its all so very complicated and shit starts to go down hill so quickly and just when you think it can't get worse - arthur goes to the doctor. hes sick. its tuberculosis. ailment that he received when he beat a man who couldn't pay his debts and committed a sin so great. arthur is going to die. he's sick. its not a bullet that will kill him but the weakness in his body. the same thing will happen to him in some crazy tragedy. arthur will give his life up for john and he won't regret it. he'll tell the shell of his father figure that he gave up everything for him. he will die alone in the mountains and see a stag bathed in yellow gold. but he will believe in goodness at the end because of a nun in saint denis and the woman mothering his little brothers child. he will believe deeply in the kindness of the world because he chooses to. arthur will die because he is doomed to die. there's nothing he can do except go, and he will never live to know what an impact he had on those around him. every life he's ever touched so profoundly effected by him and he never gets to find out. the man he used to admire so much, charles, buries arthur somewhere where the sun always rises. even in death he haunts the world of the game like a ghost. arthur morgan is dead and you'll hear him every where you go. john inherits his dead brothers journal and his guns and everything else and he learns a side to him he never knew. arthur morgan is dead and the world rippled in his absence like a drop of water pulsing through a lake. and he loved. most of all he loved the people around him. he loved.

#z.gen #arthur morgan #rdr2 spoilers #I HAVE TO KILL MYSELF

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cowgurrrl · 11 months

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Never Thought

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: IM A GODDAMN MACHINE also fic named after this song :D

Summary: You meet the Millers [3.5k]

Warnings: questionable Hollywood motives, Joel being vulnerable, the cutest goddamn found family, probably incorrect foster case/adoption timeline, talks of the foster care system, Tommy being a little shit, yearning idiots

Trouble in Paradise? Everything We Know About the Fight Between Everyone's Favorite Couple

Joel Miller Spotted Landing in LAX ALONE

Lucky Guitarist in Central Park Saw Joel Miller and Girlfriend Before Leaving Her in NYC: "They looked pretty in love when I saw them."

"Do you realize how bad this looks?!" Melanie asks as she paces behind her desk. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, fighting a headache, as she spirals. "Rumors are flying around that you guys had a massive argument backstage at the Tonight Show, and he left because he was pissed at you."

"That's not even close to what happened." You say, and she throws her arms up.

"Please, tell me what happened then because I've been fielding calls from major news outlets wanting to know what we have to say."

"His kid had an emergency. He went home early to take care of her. We didn't argue or have a falling out or anything like that. We actually had a really nice time."

"What kind of emergency?" She asks with a hawk-like determination in her eyes. Times like this make you realize that you never want to get on Melanie's bad side. When she's like this, she's absolutely lethal.

"I don't know." You shrug.

"You don't know?"

"It's not like we had a chance to talk about it! I did the interview, and by the time I was done, he was already on the way to the airport. He texted me that night to apologize and let me know that something was happening with his youngest."

"And it couldn't have been handled without him? If she needed her dad to come all the way home, she better have a fucking good reason."

"She's fourteen, Mel!" You snap, tired of hearing how much his leaving early affected her when something happened with his family. "Jesus Christ, she's a baby, and you're talking about her like she's an adult, which, even if she was, she has a right to call her dad for help," you say. She crosses her arms over her chest as she thinks, and you grab your bag from your chair. "I know these aren't the best circumstances, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you blame a child for a decision her father made." You wait for her to say more or argue with you, but she doesn't. You take a deep breath and reach for the door, more than ready to leave her and this conversation here.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about his kid?" She asks suddenly, and you turn to face her, your hand lingering on the doorknob. It feels like she's looking through you. Like she knows exactly what happened in New York but is waiting to see if you'll voluntarily come forward with it. "Wasn't a part of the contract to get involved with families." You shake your head and open the door.

"Then you shouldn't have paired me up with him." You say and leave her office. You're breathless by the time you get to your car. You've never left a conversation with Melanie like that, but you've also never heard her talk about a kid like that. It made your skin crawl to listen to her blame Ellie for just needing her dad. When the fuck did Hollywood get so ruthless that they have to use a fourteen-year-old as their scapegoat for something that's really not that big of a deal?

You're fuming the whole way back to your house, and the LA traffic doesn't do anything to settle the anger in your chest. It's been three days since you got home from New York, and communication with Joel has been sparse. He let you know that he and the girls were okay and apologized again for leaving so abruptly, but that's been the extent of your conversation. Which is fine. You have laundry to do and scripts to read through. You're fine to keep busy, but sleep is a little harder to manage.

You didn't realize that a couple nights sleeping in his arms would affect you so much. Now, every time you crawl into bed, the only thing you can think of is how big it is. Your dreams constantly replay your shared moments in New York, laughing together in the shower, walking hand-in-hand in Central Park, and the creases in the corners of his eyes. You didn't even realize that you were leaving space for a body that wasn't there until last night when you rolled into the cold space reserved for Joel and waited to hit his sleeping figure. For half a second, you considered getting a dog just so the house doesn't feel so empty.

You're folding laundry in your living room when your phone pings, interrupting the podcast you were listening to. You reach for it without a second thought, which you probably should've, considering you're still mad at Melanie, and see a text from Joel.

What are you doing tonight?

Joel Miller, you type. Are you trying to booty-call me?

Do you want me to booty-call you?

Maybe.

Well, I hate to disappoint, but I was gonna ask you to come visit the studio. I've got something I think you'll really like.

What's in it for me?

You leave your phone on the couch as you run upstairs to put your clean laundry away. You rush around your bedroom, stripping off the oversized, stained t-shirt you were wearing and putting on a vintage Talking Heads shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. You take a second to look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down stray flyaways and swiping a layer of mascara on before running back downstairs. You feel like a teenager getting ready to see the boy she likes, and something in the back of your head wants to be annoyed, but nothing can bat away the butterflies in your stomach. As you grab your purse and shoes, your phone lights up on the couch.

I've got a couple surprises up my sleeve.

Attachment: Location

You smile and tell him you're leaving now. His studio is in the heart of West Hollywood, and you have to stop at a security gate before you're allowed to park in the back next to Joel's car. Somewhere beyond the gates, a camera flashes as you enter the building and follow the studio numbers until you get to the one Joel told you he'd be in. You knock lightly on the door, trying to be polite, but someone on the other side rips the door open abruptly. A big laugh sounds from the other side, and suddenly you're face-to-face with a young man with long dark curls and big brown eyes.

"Oh, hi. I'm sorry, I'm looking for..." you trail off, glancing inside the studio until you make eye contact with Joel. He smiles and waves you in. "Him."

"Oh, you must be the girl Joel's been hidin' from us!" The man in front of you sends Joel a look as he opens the door wider to let you in, a similar twang peeking through his voice. When you fully step into the room, two girls are sitting on the couch across from Joel's chair at the soundboard, and you immediately recognize them as Sarah and Ellie. Sarah looks up and sends you a soft smile while Ellie stays focused on the rubber band she's wrapping around her fingers.

"Don't you go scarin' her! We wanna keep this one," Joel says as he stands and walks over to you. "This is my brother, Tommy. Don't pay him any mind." He says, and Tommy takes one of your hands in both of his and shakes it.

"Pleasure to meet you," Tommy says, and you smile, your brain finally catching you with the fact that you're meeting Joel's family.

"It's nice to meet you, too," you recover. "I didn't know all the Miller men were so handsome!"

"Oh, I like her,"

"Alright, that's enough," Joel scolds and you and Tommy laugh. Sarah stands and jostles Ellie as she does, making her misfire the rubber band at the soundboard, and Joel shoots her a look. She groans and stands beside Sarah, putting on a half-hearted smile. "And these are my daughters, Sarah and Ellie."

"It's really nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you guys."

"I wish we could say the same. This one," Sarah jerks her thumb in Joel's direction. "Is a master at dodging questions."

"Well, I love questions." You say.

You all settle once introductions are done, and you find yourself in awe of the dynamic the four of them have. Tommy and Joel are so at ease with each other, messing around and teasing one another, but still able to have conversations about the album art or release dates. Sarah and Ellie bombard you with questions, occasionally butting into their father and uncle's conversation to give their own opinions. And their questions are not the run-of-the-mill interview questions. No, their questions are deep, thought-provoking, unique questions that you enjoy teasing out with them. Joel was right about Sarah being a little bit more extroverted because she dominates a lot of the conversation, which you love and tell her as much.

"So many people are afraid to ask about things they're really passionate about, so it's cool to see you be so curious." You say, and a little blush takes over her cheeks.

"Thanks," she says. "I'm glad you don't think I talk too much."

"Not at all. I like hearing what you have to say." You say and watch as she fights a smile. You catch Joel's eyes watching over you and the girls, something flashing behind his irises, and you nod to let him know you're okay.

Ellie is a little quieter but really likes hearing about the more technical part of filming something. You tell her all you know about cameras and sound equipment, even promising to take her to set with you one day to show her everything because Lord knows the industry could use more women in production. Eventually, she feels comfortable enough to slump next to you in all her teenage posture, still fiddling with the rubber band.

"Want me to show you something?" You ask quietly, and she furrows her brows before nodding. You reach for the rubber band, which she reluctantly passes to you, and you slide down to copy her position on the couch. "So, the key to this is aim. Power isn't super important, but it's always a little bit more fun," you instruct as you slide the rubber band over your index finger and thumb. "So, what you want to do is lock onto your target, pull this back, and then let it go. Like this," You go over the steps slowly before aiming the rubber band at Joel's head and snapping back, sending it flying through the air until it hits him.

"Ow! The hell?" Joel screeches, and you and Ellie laugh.

"That was amazing!" Sarah giggles beside you, and you three dissolve into stupid, silly laughter. Tommy shakes his head and looks at Joel with a smile.

"You gonna let them do that to you?" He asks, and Joel takes a deep breath, taking in the sight of the three of you having the time of your life on the couch.

"'M outnumbered now."

"Sure are."

As the night progresses and you and the girls further slip into delirious giggles, you feel more and more comfortable with them. You're not sure what you thought would happen if and when you met them, but this is so easy and fun. Sarah tells you about the colleges she's applying to, and Ellie complains about her fingers hurting from trying to learn to play guitar. You advise Sarah about applications and even offer to read over some of her admissions essays, citing your BFA as your sole qualification. You're about to ask Ellie to play for you when Joel checks the time on his watch and slaps his hand over the watch's face.

"Alright, 's gettin' late, and you guys have school in the morning."

"But Dad!" Ellie protests, and he shakes his head.

"No buts. You gotta get some sleep. Uncle Tommy'll take you home."

"Dad doesn't like when I drive. Like at all," Sarah says, and you laugh.

"No, Dad doesn't like when you drive, and it's ten o'clock in the city with the world's worst drivers." He corrects, and she rolls her eyes. Despite their little arguing, both girls walk over to Joel and give him hugs and kisses before following Tommy out the door.

"Hey," He gets Joel's attention as he stands in the threshold of the door, and Joel raises his eyebrows at him. "You bring her round more often, you hear?"

"I'll make sure he does." You say, and Tommy smiles at you, winking before he finally leaves. The second the door closes, Joel gets up from his chair and walks over to where you're sitting.

"Hi," he says quietly as he leans over you and kisses you sweetly. You hum against his lips, and he collapses next to you, grabbing your legs and resting them on his lap.

"Thanks for the heads up, by the way. Are your parents here too, or is it just them?"

"Why? You wanna meet 'em?" He asks, and you slap his arm. "They really liked you."

"You think so?" You ask, and he nods, gently squeezing your ankle.

"I know so. I haven't heard Ellie laugh like that in a good while." He says, and you take a deep breath. His warm hands massage your skin, and the studio is completely still, and it feels just like it did in New York. The thought comforts something deep within you, and you reach out to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He still needs a haircut, you think to yourself.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be, yeah."

"What happened?" The question leaves you before you can stop, but he doesn't tense up or look panicky. He leans into your touch and focuses on the fraying hem of your jeans.

"She got in trouble at school. I still don't know the whole story 'cause she won't tell me, but she came home and took off on her bike. Tommy and Sarah drove around lookin' for her for bout an hour before they called me. They found her pretty soon after at a gas station, but it scared the shit outta me."

"Oh, my God. That's so scary."

"Yeah," he says. "I... didn't handle it in the best way. I grounded her for a month and took away her bike. We got into a big fight about it, and I hate fightin' with her," he sighs. Even though this was days ago, you can see how much it weighs on him still. You wonder if anyone ever panicked that much about how they treated you as a child. "I thought goin' back to Texas would've helped her, but it didn't."

"They were in Texas with you?" You ask, and he nods. Suddenly, the voices in the background of your phone calls and the spottiness of your conversations make sense.

"They went a week earlier and left a week after me to keep the press off them. They also just really missed their grandparents. Figured it'd be a good idea to get 'em outta LA for a while."

"Do their moms live in Texas too?" You get quiet as you ask about the women who brought Sarah and Ellie into the world. You may not know the whole story, but it also doesn't take a geneticist to figure out that Sarah and Ellie have different moms.

"No," he scoffs a laugh. "No, my parents are still in Texas, and Tommy lives there part-time, but that's really it."

"Where are their moms?"

"Sarah's mom left when she was a few months old. Divorced me and signed away her parental rights with the same pen. We haven't seen her since. I reach out to her folks every couple of years, but they never respond. They want nothing to do with either of us." He says, and your heart breaks for both of them. Sarah deserved to grow up with her mom, and Joel deserved to have a partner to help raise her, especially since he was so young.

"And Ellie's?"

"Never met her. Her name was Anna. The adoption agency told me she died a few hours after she gave birth. Left her a note but didn't have much else. No family, no husband, nothin'."

"Oh, I didn't know Ellie was adopted."

"It became official when she was twelve, but she's been with us since she was ten."

"Wow," you breathe, and he nods.

"Yeah," he says. "Sarah met her at school, and her foster home was just a shit hole, and she really just needed someone to take a chance on her. I still don't know why, but I got the paperwork filled out, and she was placed with us two months later. She's been with us ever since. That's also why I knew I had to come home when I heard she ran away. She used to do that to get away from her foster parents so they'd have an excuse to send her back."

"Did they?" You ask.

"Yeah. Six foster homes in two years."

"Jesus Christ."

"It's a lot. I know it is. That's why I didn't tell you bout them earlier. I didn't want to scare you off," he shrugs. "Plus, they're why I punched that photographer." He says like it's common knowledge, and you sit up. You remember Joel and Paul arguing about something when you walked into the room months ago, but you never asked about what. You also never asked him why he punched the pap because it didn't feel like your place.

"What?"

"The guy showed up at Ellie's school. He was tryin' to get pictures of her when the only thing she's done wrong is have my last name. He was yellin' things at me and asking me about her, and I just… snapped," he explains, shaking his head. "It's not right. I shouldn't have done it, but they're my girls. If I can't protect them, then I've got nothin'." You watch tears glisten in his eyes, and you push onto your knees to cup his face.

"You're a good dad, Joel. Possibly one of the best ones out there, okay? And you're not a criminal for losing your temper with your fourteen-year-old," you say. "Ellie's a teenager, and she's been through a lot. You all have. But those beautiful, intelligent, funny, amazing girls love you with everything that they are. I can see that, and I only spent a few hours with them today. They are good people because you're a good person," You stare into his eyes, hoping that the words will imprint in his brain, and he believes it as much as you do. You think Joel Miller could use someone believing in how good he can be. You think he needs it. You think he deserves it. "You are a good person." You whisper, and he takes a deep breath.

He rests his hands on your hips, and you move closer to him, resting your knees on either side of his hips and sitting in his lap. You kiss away the stray tears from his cheeks and feel him relax under your touch. You're sure that you'll need to tell him over and over again how good of a dad he is after so many years of just barely surviving, and you're okay with that. You'll tell him as many times as it takes him to believe it.

He catches your lips before you can get far and kisses you firmly like he's trying to show you everything he wants to say instead of speaking. He tastes like salt and cigarettes as he fiddles with the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against your stomach. There's nothing sexual about it. He just wants to be close to you, and you want the same. He traces patterns into your lower back, his hands splaying across your sides, and you bury your face in his neck. It's quiet and soft and almost domestic the way you two are cuddled into each other. As if you've been together for years, and this is how you greet each other after being away for so long. You inhale his scent and try to make out the shapes he's pressing into your skin.

"I wish I'd met you sooner." He says quietly, the words halfway lost in your hair. You kiss his jaw and squeeze him a little tighter.

"Me too," you mumble. "'M here now. I'm not going anywhere." And for once, instead of arguing or coming up with a reason to refuse to absorb what you're saying, he just nods.

"I know."

#rockstar!joel #rockstar!joel miller #one for the money two for the show #the last of us #joel miller #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #tlou fluff #the last of us au #tlou au #joel the last of us #joel miller x female reader #I love them your honor

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