#he probably originally thought of her as like

[felassan]

David Gaider on Shale, under a cut for length:

"Oops! I realized I'd moved on from DAO but missed one of the companions I'd written. Which checks out, honestly, because I almost didn't write Shale and, even after I'd written her, she almost didn't happen anyhow. Then she did. Prepare yourself for... PIGEON QUEST. 🦤 So... I'm wracking my brain, but I don't recall how Shale began. I have this vague memory of us wanting a "weird" party member who didn't conform to the normal classes (this was back when Dog didn't need to be in the party), and I think my mind drifted to an old indie comic character named Concrete."

"Now, your reaction to that is probably "who?" That's OK. When I explain that HK-47 in KotOR was inspired by an old Canadian TV show called the Littlest Hobo I get the same perplexed response. 😅 In short: Concrete was just a regular dude. Who happened to also be a walking hulk of rock. Cue hi-jinx. The problem here is I don't remember whether the Concrete thing was part of the original inspiration or something I thought of at the point when I started writing the character. Because I didn't, at first. That was later. Shale was initially taken on by Jay Turner, then one of our junior writers. Jay had an idea to make Shale more of a robot, an emotionless automoton killer... think HK-47, but without the layer of sarcasm. I was leery, and told Jay he'd have to be very careful. "Emotionless" can very quickly turn into "boring", after all, unless you're VERY careful. But Jay was determined. Sigh. This was a fail on my part, as his lead. There's been a couple of times in my career when I've let a junior convince me with their enthusiasm to take on something my experience said they shouldn't. And then watch their confidence crumble despite every effort I made to reassure them it was OK. This was one of those times. Jay, no idea if you'll read this but: I'm sorry. Even an experienced writer would have found that a daunting challenge. Tonia, my other Big Fail on a similar situation in DAI: I'm sorry. Both times, I should have known. You did your best, but I set you up to fail. 😔"

"Jay did his best, and this version of Shale was certainly interesting... but, when he was done, it was one of those peer reviews where every writer had that look of "I'm REALLY sorry to say this..." It felt flat. Jay tried numerous revisions, but the issue wasn't his ability - it was the concept. I only allowed my writers a certain number of tries before I take it away. This hearkens back to an earlier time at Bio when writers would hack away at something that wasn't working 6, 7, 8 times or more until finally their soul was dust. Mike Laidlaw can attest. Revision isn't always the answer. So I moved (a much relieved, I think) Jay onto something else, and the question arose: what do we do with Shale? Do we cut it? It was already very late. Then Shale dropped in my lap. I don't remember if it was me refusing to let it go or maybe Brent (Knowles, Creative Director) giving it to me. I suspect it was the latter, because I recall being a bit bitter about the whole thing. WHAT am I going to do with this character? At the time, they'd moved me out of the writers pit to instead be in a big office with the other leads. I had this corner desk by a window (yay) with an awful view (ugh) What was so awful about it? It looked out onto the neighbouring roof, where there was only an HVAC unit to see. In the winter, pigeons would gather around it. They pooped all over everything - there was this alcove around the access door, right? The pigeons roosted there and it was POOP FAUCET city."

"Not only that, the pigeons used the HVAC like some kind of sex den. Angry, ugly pigeon sex. The only respite was when a hawk would appear and the pigeons scattered. Then I'd get maybe a day when there was a single pigeon corpse, like an exploded ball of down, to act as a scarecrow. Good days, those. What does any of this have to do with Shale? Well, there's me, staring out the window trying desperately to think what I'm going to do. But I CAN'T stare out the window because, gross. But what else am I going to stare at while I think? It was making me furious. I hated those pigeons SO SO MUCH. And then it hit me: Shale is basically an animated statue, right? Something that pigeons are rather notorious for also gathering on? And so I wrote. I wrote like the angry, angry wind. I had zero time to do this so it was basically me vomiting all my annoyance at everything into a single character. Not that it helped much. There was a battle going on over Shale - first, as I recall, it was the art team. They were going to make every doorway in the game EXTRA HUGE because they were worried that Shale was too large and might clip. So, yes, let's alter the whole world to fix that. Good idea. 🙃 Eventually, they compromised by making Shale smaller. Sten-sized. Or Brent went Akira mode, but I don't really know. This was a battle happening above my level. Yet Shale got cut anyhow. There wasn't time to do her abilities and we were short on cinematics time. There was never enough time on DAO."

""Oh well," I thought. "That's that." I did what I could, but cut content is almost never resurrected. The idea was floated of making Shale into a DLC but I scoffed. Yeah, right! But... it happened. That's why the "almost" is there. Enough of the team liked Shale they made it happen this one time. This meant I could finish up the writing once we'd more or less wrapped DAO, and the rest of the team (cinematics, in particular, who were pressed the hardest for time) could move onto the Shale DLC once they were ready. It was supposed to come out well after release, but you know. Shenanigans. This particular shenanigan was EA deciding to sit on the finished DAO a few months in order to delay the release. Why? Again, not my level. To get closer to Christmas, maybe, or maybe for sim ship. It did mean Shale ended up being ready for release day. Unexpected confluence of events, honestly. Cue some fans getting upset that "cut content" was sold to them separately, which... fair, I guess? The alternative would have been that Shale was simply cut, period, and it just worked out this way but... yes, fair. This was back when DLC was the main beef of hardcore gamers. Oh, the good old days. Overall? I have a soft spot for Shale. She has no soft spot for anyone, being... you know... made of rock. It's why I put her in Asunder, and why she was also going to be in the - apparently now notorious for its Fenris murder - cancelled fourth DA novel. Also, if you're a pigeon fan: not sorry. 😇"

[source thread]

[goblinontour]

This Love Starved Heart Of Mine

he’s tired…

warnings: dad!alex, fluff, talking, eventual smut, handjob, fingering, fucking

word count: 8.6k

The stains on his slacks were a mystery he had neither the energy nor desire to solve. A smudge of something pale and sticky on his thigh could’ve been formula. His knee was streaked with something brown — coffee, maybe, though it was too far down for that to make sense. He wouldn’t dwell on the rest, the older stains faded into the fabric, their origins forgotten or ignored. He couldn’t remember. He didn’t care. The smattering on his shirt, though — that was fresh. A pale orange, probably from the mashed sweet potato Poppy had decided belonged anywhere but her mouth. ��

He stared at the mess on his chest as if it were an accusation. He’d wiped it earlier, hadn’t he? Or maybe that was yesterday. God, he didn’t even know anymore.  

What he did know was that he couldn’t do this. Not alone. He’d thought he couldn’t do it at all, but this — this endless symphony of crying, cooking, cleaning, existing — was definitely impossible solo.  

The hum of the range hood over the stove grew louder, like a dull roar against his temples, even though it had been on for barely five minutes. A pot of something — a soup he was loosely following a recipe for — bubbled on the back burner, the spoon lying crooked in the pot like it was waiting for him to do something.  

But he couldn’t.  

Alex’s hands trembled over the cutting board, the knife clenched too tightly in his grip. He was halfway through dicing carrots — well, maybe a third of the way, if he was being honest. The pieces on the board were uneven, some chunks too big, some practically shaved. He didn’t care. None of it mattered.  

Because from the baby monitor propped precariously against the salt shaker, Poppy’s cries sliced through the air. Loud and clear. He didn’t need the video feed to know what it looked like. She’d be on her back, her face red and scrunched, little fists flailing at the unfairness of the world.  

The sound stabbed through him, sharper than the knife he was holding. He’d always thought it was supposed to get easier, that eventually, he’d adjust to…to everything. But it hadn’t. If anything, it felt worse. More oppressive. More constant.  

He set the knife down — or tried to. Instead, the blade sank into the cutting board, embedding itself with a soft crunch of wood. His chest heaved as he leaned forward, both hands gripping the edge of the counter.  “I can’t do this.” he muttered, his voice shaking as he stared blankly at the baby monitor. His reflection glared back at him in the dark screen, overlaid with the grainy image of her squirming. His words came again, quieter this time, barely audible over the din of the kitchen. “I can’t- fuck, I can’t-”  

None of it felt like enough. He wasn’t enough.  

And then, faintly at first, he heard the familiar rhythm of your footsteps in the hallway.  

“Sorry it took so long, baby.” you murmured, your voice drifting into the kitchen like sunlight after a storm.  

Alex straightened instinctively, though his body still felt stiff and leaden. Relief hit him in a wave, so fast it almost made him dizzy. The mere sound of you was enough to pull him back from the edge. You stepped into the kitchen, shrugging off your coat and tossing it toward the back of a chair. Your gaze landed on him, and you froze.  

“Hey, Al.” Your tone shifted immediately, soft and careful in a way that made his throat tighten. “You alright?”  

He nodded too quickly, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to meet your eyes. “Yeah…yeah.” His voice cracked on the second ‘yeah’ but he didn’t stop. He needed to say something, anything, to deflect. “You should-” He gestured vaguely toward the baby monitor, holding it up in one hand like it was a lifeline. “She’s-”  

You didn’t wait for him to finish. “Yeah.” Kicking off your shoes, you crossed the room in three quick strides. He watched as you disappeared up the stairs, your voice softening as you murmured something — maybe to Poppy, maybe to yourself. He couldn’t tell.  

His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair, tugging lightly at the strands like it might help clear the fog in his brain. The wailing had stopped. Just like that, the silence felt louder than the crying ever had.  

Fuck, Alex, you can’t think the world’s gonna end every time, he thought, the words landing sharp in his mind. He took a shaky breath and forced himself to push — push past the weight, push himself up, both figuratively and quite literally. His hands braced the counter as he straightened, his legs stiff.  

The knife still stuck out of the cutting board, its edge caught in the groove it had made. He reached for it, his grip careful, and plucked it free with a soft scrape. For a moment, he just stared at the mark left behind, his thumb running over the shallow scar in the wood. He could fix it, probably. Sand it down, oil the surface — make it like new again.  

Maybe.  

Maybe it didn’t need replacing. Maybe things could be solved and not thrown away so easily.  

He’d fix it.

Before he could linger too long on the thought, he heard your voice, soft and full of that almost-laughter you got whenever you talked to her.  

“Say hi to Dada.” you murmured.  

It wasn’t quite the over-the-top baby voice you’d both sworn you’d never use. You’d laughed about it, once — vowed you wouldn’t be those parents, with their ridiculous high-pitched cooing and singsong nonsense. But then she had arrived, and somehow, somehow, you both caught yourselves doing it. Even Alex.  

She cooed back, her little voice bubbling like carbonation in a glass. His chest still felt tight, the remnants of earlier panic clinging stubbornly to him, but he moved toward the sound. Slowly, carefully, like it was fragile and he might shatter it if he got too close.  

Her arms flailed, fingers curling and uncurling in something that looked almost purposeful. Joy, he thought. She was happy. Not just generally, but specifically. Happy to see him.  

“Where’s Dada?” you asked her, like she might actually answer.  

And she did.  

With an awkward jerk of her chubby arm, she pointed directly at him. Her smile grew impossibly wider, her face lighting up in a way that still caught him off guard every time. It was a real smile, a choice, not just a reflexive grimace. His breath hitched, his throat tightening as the thought hit him harder than it should have. He never got used to it — the way she could do something so simple and make him feel like the floor was falling out from under him.  

He reached for his jaw, grabbing it and tugging, trying to snap himself out of the trance. His fingertips pressed hard into his skin, the roughness of his calluses grounding him.  

“Hi.” he said, his voice cracking a little. 

“She missed you.” you said gently, your gaze flicking between him and Poppy. You weren’t teasing, not like you might’ve been on another day. You knew exactly how fragile he was in that moment.  

Alex swallowed hard, willing himself to keep it together as he stepped closer. He reached out, his hand brushing her tiny fist before letting her grab his finger. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone so small. She tugged, babbling incoherently, her gaze fixed on him with such intensity that he felt like he might unravel.  

“I missed you, too.” he whispered, his words directed at her but meant for both of you.  

Poppy let out another happy noise, a gurgle that morphed into something closer to a giggle, and she leaned forward, her little arms reaching toward Alex, fingers curling and uncurling as if she was trying to grab him through the air.  

“You wanna go to Dada?” you said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Say daaaa-daaa.” you coaxed, drawing out the syllables in that sweet, singsong way.  

Alex’s lips curved upward, though he tried not to make a big deal of it. He crouched down slowly, the strain in his lower back making itself known with a sharp twinge. His already misaligned spine didn’t thank him for it, but he pushed through, lowering himself until his face was level with hers. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her little body, to smell the faint powdery scent of baby lotion and something vaguely milk-like clinging to her.

“Come ‘ere, Pop.” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly, as though speaking too loud might scare her off. “Come to Dada.”  

“Da-da.” you repeated, nodding encouragingly at her as if she might mirror your enthusiasm.  

Instead of saying the word — or lunging into Alex’s arms like some moment of cinematic perfection — she smacked him square in the face.  

Alex froze, his mouth slightly open in surprise, the sting of her palm radiating across his cheek. She’s got a mean right hook for someone who can barely hold her own bottle, he thought. He blinked at her, and then at you, his hand coming up to rub at the spot, which hurt only faintly, not as much as the blow to his pride.  

“She gets that from you.” he muttered, casting you a sidelong glance.  

“She does not.” you said, though your laughter betrayed you. “Don’t take it personally.” you said, trying to sound serious. “She slaps me all the time. It’s how she says ‘I love you.’”  

“Great. So instead of words, we’re raising her to communicate through violence?” She was grinning wide, her chubby cheeks pink with delight, completely oblivious to her crime. “Well, maybe I deserved that one.” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he reached for her again. “Come ‘ere, you little gremlin.”  

He kissed your cheek, a quick, grateful press of his lips, before turning his attention to her. “Hiya, Pop.” He pressed his lips to her cheek, warm and impossibly soft, before nuzzling his nose against her temple. She let out a happy squeal, her hands finding his face again. This time, instead of slapping, her fingers grabbed at his nose, her little nails scratching lightly as she babbled something unintelligible. Her eyes were wide and bright, her gummy smile so wide it made his chest ache.  

“She loves you, you know.” you said, leaning against the counter as you watched them. 

He glanced up at you, his brows furrowing slightly, though his lips stayed pressed to her cheek. “Yeah?”  

“Yeah.” You smiled softly, crossing your arms as you tilted your head. “You’re her favourite person. I’m a little jealous.”  

“Yeah.” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. “She’s mine too.”  

“Dada.” you said softly, testing it again as you smiled at the two of them.  

Alex raised a brow, looking down at her. “What do you think, Pop? You gonna say it?”  

Her face scrunched, lips parting as if she were about to make some grand declaration. There was a tiny pause — just enough for Alex to feel a flicker of hope. Then she let out a loud, enthusiastic noise that was more of a squawk than a word, clapping her little hands against his chest as if to punctuate her babble.  

“Close enough.” he said, his voice soft with amusement as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.  

But you weren’t about to let it go.  

“Daaa-daaa.” you tried again. You leaned in a little, your hands gesturing toward Alex like he was the most exciting thing in the world. He was, even if he couldn't see that. “You can do it, Pop. Say Dada!” She blew a raspberry, the sound wet and loud, making Alex snort. “She’s close.” you insisted, crouching down beside him. “Come on, baby.”  

Alex sighed, shifting Poppy in his arms as her attention drifted to his shirt collar. She grabbed a fistful of the fabric, tugging at it like it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. He glanced at you, a faint crease forming between his brows. You always had this unshakable belief that she was on the verge of something amazing — every coo, every wave of her little hands filled you with anticipation. He admired it, that optimism of yours. But today, it made something heavy settle in his chest.  

“Say it, Poppy.” you encouraged, wagging your fingers at her. “Daaa-daaa.”  

He rolled his eyes but didn’t stop you, though he felt the faintest pang of guilt as you kept trying. You were so patient, so persistent, and he didn’t want to rain on your optimism. Still, after the god knows which round of those exaggerated two syllables, he couldn’t help but interject.  

“She’s not gonna say it.” he mumbled, almost to himself.  

“What?” you asked, tilting your head.  

“She’s not gonna say it.” he repeated, his voice quiet but firmer this time. “She’s a baby. She doesn’t know what we’re saying.”  

“She’s so close.” you said gently, your smile faltering just a little.  

“She’s not.” he replied, shaking his head as he looked down at her. “She’s just…she’s not there yet.”  

You glanced at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “But-”  

“Love,” he interrupted, tilting his head toward you, “she’s probably tired of us pestering her. Let’s give her a break.”  

You frowned slightly, watching him. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed on the floor now, his shoulders tense.  

“Alex.” you said softly.  

He didn’t respond. He shifted Poppy in his arms, holding her a little closer, though he couldn’t shake the weight pressing against his chest. Why do I care so much? he thought, annoyed with himself. He couldn’t stop the spiral — thoughts tumbling over each other, picking apart every small failure.  

Maybe I’m not doing enough. Maybe she doesn’t know because I’m not around enough. Maybe she doesn’t…

“Alex.” you said again, firmer this time. Your hand found his shoulder, snapping him out of it.  

He looked up at you, his brow furrowed, and you saw it then — the faint sheen of worry in his eyes, the way his jaw was set too tight, like he was bracing for something.  

“She’ll get there. You know that, right?”  

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You sighed, your shoulders drooping slightly, but you nodded. “Alright.” you murmured, brushing your fingers against Poppy’s cheek. “We’ll stop, Pop. No more pressure.”  

But just as Alex opened his mouth to thank you for relenting, a small, hesitant sound broke through the quiet.   

Both of you froze.  

Alex’s eyes widened as he stared at Poppy, who was now grinning up at him like she knew exactly what she’d just done.  

“Did she-?” His voice trailed off, his heart pounding as he glanced at you.  

“She said it.” you whispered. “She said it.”  

Alex barely heard you, the words sinking into his chest like pebbles dropped into a still lake. She said it, the syllables echoed faintly in his mind. He wanted to laugh, to smile, to do something to match the moment, but his body didn’t seem to know how to react. Afraid to breathe too deeply in case it all shattered.  

“Dada!” she said again, louder this time, her tiny voice wobbly but unmistakable.  

That broke him.  

Alex felt something catch in his throat, a sharp mix of disbelief and joy. His chest tightened, his heart stuttering before kicking into overdrive. Slowly, as if afraid of startling her, he looked down at her, her wide, shining eyes staring back up at him. His smile spread slowly, unbidden and unstoppable, until it felt like it might split his face in two.  

“Good girl.” he whispered. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her warm cheek. “That’s my girl.” he murmured, barely audible as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.  

“She’s a genius.” you said, half-laughing, half-crying. Your voice snapped him out of the trance just enough for him to notice you were leaning into him, your head resting lightly against his shoulder.  

He should’ve been relieved. He was relieved. But the edges of the moment started to fray as his mind looped back on itself, until his hand twitched against Poppy’s back, his fingers moving in a restless, uneven rhythm.   

“Alex.” you said softly, your voice cutting through the noise in his head.  

He blinked, looking up at you with wide eyes, like he hadn’t even realised he’d drifted away. “Hmm?”  

Your brows knit together just slightly as you studied him. “She said it.” you repeated, more gently this time, as if trying to coax him back to the present. “You heard her, right? She said it, and she’ll keep saying it.”  

He nodded, his lips twitching upward in an attempt at a smile. “Yeah. I heard her.” 

“It’s okay to let yourself enjoy it, you know.”  

Alex let out a soft, shaky laugh, his head bowing slightly. “I’m trying.” he admitted.  

You gave him a small, knowing smile, your fingers brushing against his. “I know you are.”  

Then, with the same quiet authority that always managed to steady him, you said, “I’ll take over dinner.”  

He hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the stove where the pot still bubbled quietly. “It’s almost done.” he said automatically, his voice trailing off.  

“Seriously.” you interrupted, your hand squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Go sit down. You’ve earned it.”  

He looked at you then, really looked, and saw the understanding in your eyes. Not pity, not impatience — just a steady reassurance that he didn’t have to carry everything on his own.  

Alex exhaled slowly, his shoulders loosening as he nodded. “Alright, alright.” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint, grateful smile.  

“Good.” You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek before stepping toward the stove.  

“Alright, Pop.” he said softly, turning toward the living room. “Let’s go relax, yeah?”  

Alex settled onto the couch with a quiet groan, leaning back into the cushions as he adjusted Poppy in his lap. Her bright eyes met his again, and he smiled despite himself, the heaviness in his chest beginning to lift.  

“You’re a little genius.” he murmured, brushing his fingers over her curls.  

Poppy responded with a loud, cheerful babble, her tiny hands smacking against his chest like punctuation marks. Before he realised what was happening, one of her fingers poked at his cheek, then slid up toward his nose.  

“Hey, what are you-” Alex started, but his words cut off with a muffled grunt as she, determined as ever, managed to wedge her little fingers into his nostrils. “Christ, Pop.” he muttered, squirming as he tried to gently guide her hand away. She giggled in response and shoved harder. He groaned, his face scrunching comically. “You’re relentless, aren’t you? Just like your mum.”  

Despite the discomfort, he didn’t make her stop right away. He let her tug and poke and prod because…well, because she was his. His little girl, with her impossibly tiny fingers and her boundless energy and her smile that made his chest ache in ways he still didn’t fully understand.  

“Alright, that’s enough now.” he said softly, finally grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re gonna rip my big nose off, you little gremlin.”  

She squealed in delight, her legs kicking against his lap as she laughed. Alex couldn’t help but laugh too, shaking his head as he adjusted her so she was sitting more comfortably.  

“Are you hungry, Pop?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her more closely. “Hmm? Is that why you’re trying to dismantle me? Did you miss dinner while I was busy mucking about in the kitchen?”  

Poppy tilted her head in response, mimicking his gesture with such accuracy that it caught him off guard.  

“You missed Mama, didn’t you?” he said, his voice softening as he brushed a hand over her hair. “You always get a bit grumpy when she’s not here, huh? Me too, you know. Yeah? You missed her loads, didn’t you? I get it. She’s the best, isn’t she?”  

She clapped her hands in agreement, her face lighting up.  

“She’s clever, that one.” Alex continued as he leaned in slightly. “Always knows what to do. Keeps me from completely losing it most days.” He sighed, his thumb gently tracing circles on her little hand. “Don’t tell her, but I missed her too.”  

She made another noise, high-pitched, and Alex chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you? Don’t need words when you’ve got that smile. You know,” he murmured, “you’re kind of the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”  

Poppy didn’t respond, of course, but the way she rested her head against his chest — her little fingers curling into his shirt — felt like answer enough. 

You called him over, your voice warm and light but tinged with that familiar sense of knowing. “Alex, come here. Dinner’s ready.”  

He shifted Poppy in his arms and stood with an exaggerated groan, the sound somewhere between playful and genuine. “Getting old, Pop.” he murmured, glancing down at her. “You’re not making this any easier, you know.”  

“Is it okay?” he asked as he approached the table, nodding toward the pot on the stove.  

“Yeah, it’s good. Smells amazing.” you said as you sat down. “Can’t wait to eat, I’m starving.”  

He smiled faintly at your words, placing Poppy in her high chair before lowering himself into the seat next to you. “Eat, eat. I’ll try to get her to eat something too.” he said, nodding toward the little one.  

“You need to eat too, baby.” you replied as you placed a plate in front of him.  

Alex didn’t respond. He was looking at you, his gaze quiet and intense in a way that made you pause. There was something in the way he watched you that felt almost fragile, like he was trying to memorise the moment before it slipped through his fingers.  

“Alex.” you prompted gently, but he still didn’t look away.  

He blinked, as if suddenly realising he was staring, and shifted his focus to Poppy. She had taken one of his fingers into her mouth, nibbling on it. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t mind.  

“I know,” he said softly, “but can we just…”  

He trailed off, his free hand brushing over Poppy’s curls as his jaw tightened.  

“Alex-” you began, but he cut you off, his voice trembling slightly as he turned back to you.  

“She said it.” he whispered, the words barely audible. His eyes, glassy with unshed tears, met yours, pleading and vulnerable. “She…don’t start that now, please.”  

Your mouth opened to respond, but his expression stopped you. There was a rawness in his face that you recognized too well — a deep, unspoken fear that if you brought it up, you’d ruin the delicate balance of the moment.  

“Okay.” you said finally.  

Dinner was quiet. The kind of quiet that settled in like a heavy fog, where the occasional clink of cutlery against a plate felt unnaturally loud. Poppy babbled here and there, filling the silence with her tiny, nonsensical words, and Alex smiled at her, like always. But his energy was flagging. He was tired, worn thin in a way that even you could feel across the table. You knew he was trying, trying for you and for her, trying to keep the atmosphere light. And it worked, sort of, enough to make it through the meal. But you could see the strain beneath it, the cracks that threatened to show when he thought no one was looking.

That smile didn’t follow him when the day finally wound down and the two of you climbed into bed. Under the covers, where the quiet wasn’t tempered by the background noise his face fell into something harder. That look you’d come to dread, his “mad kitten” look, as you’d called it, where his lips pressed into a tight line, like he was physically holding himself together with sheer will.

The dark made it worse. It always did. Shadows obscured the warmth in his features, leaving behind that stubborn jawline and the glassy glint of his eyes when he didn’t blink fast enough.

“Al…” you whispered, trying to coax him out of it.

You could feel him debating it, using the dark as a shield, letting the silence stretch between you.

“I’m fine.” he said finally.

“You-”

“I’m fine.” he repeated, cutting you off quickly, but not sharply. “I promise.”

There was a note of insistence in his tone, as if he needed to convince you, or maybe himself, that it was true. Before you could press further, his body shifted. He moved toward you, wrapping his arms around your middle and twisting you into his grip with that quiet urgency that always made your chest ache. His chest pressed firmly against your back, the heat of him bleeding through the thin fabric of your shirt and you could feel his breath against your shoulder like he was trying to regulate it but failing.

“I’m just…tired.” he murmured, the words muffled as his face found the crook of your neck.

His sigh followed, long and drawn-out, like it was pulled from somewhere deep. His arms tightened around you, his hold becoming almost unbearably heavy. It wasn’t just physical — you could feel the emotional gravity of him, like he was sinking into you, clinging to you to keep himself afloat.

“You don’t have to hold onto it all by yourself, you know.” you said, your voice a quiet plea in the dark, placing your hand over his arm, your fingers tracing slow circles against his skin.

“I’m not.” he whispered after a long pause, his voice barely audible. “I’ve got you.” Bittersweet and honest in a way that made your throat tighten. You turned slightly in his arms, just enough to see the edge of his face.

“I’m here.” you said, your hand moving up to brush against his cheek. “I’m always here.”

Alex closed his eyes at that, his head dipping slightly as if the weight of those words was too much. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his grip on you never loosening. “I know.” he said again, softer this time, almost like a prayer.

“Baby?” you called softly. Alex’s body was pressed so firmly against yours that you could feel every rise and fall of his chest. The way he rubbed himself against you sent a subtle shiver down your spine that you tried, and failed, to hide.

“Mhm?” he hummed in response, his voice thick with exhaustion but carrying a gentle warmth. He pressed his face into your neck again, nuzzling you like he couldn’t get close enough. “You smell nice.” he murmured.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “I missed you today.”

His palms roamed your body, spreading warmth wherever they touched. He wasn’t in a hurry — it was almost absentminded, the way his hands explored. Slowly, they began to search for the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin — hesitant, like he was trying to go unnoticed, unsure of himself.

You knew what that meant — he was testing the waters, weighing his own energy against his desire, afraid to disappoint you or himself if he couldn’t deliver. 

“Alex?” you asked gently, your hand brushing against his side.

“Yeah?” he replied, his voice quieter this time, muffled by the way his face stayed buried against you.

“Do you wanna…?” you suggested, leaving the rest unsaid but entirely clear.

His breath hitched, just for a second, and then he groaned softly, twisting himself further into you. His face ducked lower, pressing into your shoulder like he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “Yeah, but…I’m so fucking tired.” he admitted, almost apologetic.

You felt him stretch his legs, his body shifting as he intertwined them with yours, wrapping you up in his warmth and his weariness all at once. He sighed again, though this time it was more of a soft, frustrated mewl, a sound that broke your heart a little.

“Can we do it in the morning?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I’m better in the mornings…at night, I just…I get too in my head, and I can’t…” His words trailed off, lost somewhere between exhaustion and vulnerability.

You didn’t need him to finish. You understood.

Your hand found its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair, scratching lightly at the roots. It was oilier than usual, and you knew that detail alone was enough to bother him, though you wouldn’t dream of holding it against him. You could feel the weight of the week, of the day, in the way he leaned into your touch.

“I have to go to work again early for some-” you began. The sentence was interrupted by a deep stretch and a groan, his body shifting again to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. 

“How early?” he asked, his voice still groggy.

“Early.” you said, the word carrying a hint of regret as your fingers continued their soothing motions.

“Fuck…” He sighed, the sound dragging out as he let himself sink deeper into you. “Okay.” His hands slid back under your top, the roughness of his palms contrasting with the gentle way he touched you. They skimmed over your ribs, fingers spreading wide to take in as much of you as they could. Slowly, he began to push the fabric upward, revealing more of your bare skin, but he hesitated just short of pulling it completely off.

“It’s fine, Al-” you started, not wanting him to feel pressured. Your hand came up to gently push him away, but he caught your wrist lightly.

“No, no…” he murmured, shaking his head. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the base of your throat. “I can- I want to. I just…” He trailed off, exhaling shakily as his eyes dropped to the space between you, as if his body wasn’t cooperating the way he wanted it to.

“Need a hand?” 

He let out a breath, half a laugh, half a sigh, and nodded. “Yeah.” 

You reached for the hem of your top, tugging it over your head and letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. Alex’s eyes lifted, softening instantly as they took in the newly bared skin. He swallowed hard, his lips parting as his hands reached for you again. His lips followed the curve of your chest, pressing slow, reverent kisses to the soft swell of your breasts. His stubble scratched against your skin, and you couldn’t help but gasp when his teeth grazed and nibbled on the delicate skin just below your collarbone.

“Fuck…” you murmured, his grunt in response muffled against your chest. He kissed the same spot again, as if trying to chase away the faint sting with warmth.

Your fingers slipped down then, over the planes of his stomach before slipping to the waistband of his boxers. He tensed slightly, almost imperceptibly, but didn’t stop you. Slowly, you slid your hand inside, fingers brushing against him. He was soft beneath your touch, his body warm but still reluctant to respond. You stroked him gently, giving him time, your movements slow and deliberate. He twitched slightly, but not as much as you both hoped.

“Shit.” he muttered, voice strained and tinged with frustration. “I’m sorry…I-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head against you. “I just- I’m sorry. I’m so fucking tired, and I-”

“Hey.” you interrupted softly, your free hand coming up to thread through his hair again. You scratched lightly, feeling the tension in his body as you worked to soothe him. “Don’t apologise.”

“I just can’t get my head right.” he said, his voice tight. He sighed heavily, his breath shuddering against you. “I want to- fuck, I really want to, but…”

“But nothing.” Your fingers continued to stroke him lightly, not to pressure him, but to reassure him, to remind him you weren’t in any rush. “It’s okay, Alex. We’ve got time. It’s not a race.”

He let out a soft groan, half from the sensation of your hand and half from the weight of his own thoughts. “You’re too good to me.” he muttered, pressing another kiss to the top of your chest.

“I love you.” you replied simply. “That’s not gonna change just because you’re tired. You’ve been running yourself ragged all day, Al. Your body’s just trying to catch up.”

He let out another sigh, this one softer, and tilted his head up to look at you. His eyes were glassy, his lips parted as if he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words.

“You’re allowed to be tired.” you added, your thumb brushing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, but I wanted to…I wanted to be good for you.” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly on the last words.

“You are good for me.” you said, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You always are.”

As if testing himself, his hips shifted slightly against your hand. “I’m trying.” 

“I know.” you replied, kissing him again, this time on the lips, reminding him that this wasn’t about performance or expectation but the two of you. His lips trembled against yours, but he kissed you back, his hands finding their way to your hips. He held you firmly but tenderly, his thumbs stroking small circles into your skin.

“I’ll get there.” he murmured, his voice thick but steadier now. “I’m gon’ do my best…” his lips brushing the curve of your neck “to fuck you good.”

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Promise.” 

He let out a low, shaky groan as his hand squeezed your arse, pulling you closer against him. His lips returned to your chest, latching onto the soft flesh with a warm, open-mouthed kiss that sent a shiver through your spine. His hips bucked gently into your hand, still soft but slowly responding, the friction encouraging him more than he might have expected. 

“Talk to me.” he murmured against your skin, punctuating his words with another kiss, this time right over your heart.

“About what?” 

“Anything.” he gasped, his breath catching when you tugged just a bit harder. His head tilted back slightly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tried to stay focused. “Anything to distract me from thinking too hard.”

“Okay, let’s see…” you started, the rhythm of your hand unbroken as you searched for something that might pull him out of his head. “How about the fact that she said her first word today?” you offered, your voice lifting slightly as you rubbed your thumb along his length.

Alex let out a short laugh, half-gasping as his hips moved with more intention now. “You think I forgot?” he asked, his tone teasing despite the breathlessness. “I’ll be telling everyone about that for years, love. Even strangers in the queue at Tesco.”

“Yeah?” you grinned, leaning down to kiss his temple. “Bet you’ll exaggerate it too. ‘Oh, she looked right at me, so serious, and said ‘Dada’ like she was delivering some grand speech.’”

“She did though. You saw her. Our girl was bloody profound.”

“She had food all over her face.” you countered, laughing softly.

“That’s just charisma.” he replied, his voice softer now, though his hips bucked again, more firmly.

“Uh-huh, sure.” you teased, your fingers sliding down further to cup him gently, eliciting a groan that vibrated against your skin.

“More,” he mumbled, his voice husky.

“More talking or more touching?” you teased, your hand giving him a firmer stroke, feeling him start to harden properly against your palm.

“Both.” His hips moved in small, involuntary motions against your hand, but he still wasn’t quite where he wanted to be. “Something else this time. Anything- just not…”

“Not what?” 

He let out a shaky laugh, his head shaking slightly. “Not about her.” he admitted, his voice low and embarrassed. “Feels weird…when you’ve got your hand on my dick.”

You laughed and Alex groaned again, though this time it was out of exasperated affection. “Fair point.” you teased, giving him a soft squeeze that earned you a sharp inhale. “Okay, let’s think…”

“Yeah, think of something good.” he muttered, his lips trailing a line of warm, lazy kisses down the side of your neck. “Something sexy or ridiculous, just…”

“Alright,” you said, “remember that time we got locked out of the old flat because you thought you could ‘jimmy’ the door with a credit card?”

“Oh, come on, don’t remind me.” he groaned, though there was a smile in his voice. “I was just trying to impress you.”

“You were trying to impress me by breaking into your own flat?” you teased, your thumb brushing over the sensitive underside of his cock, drawing a quiet gasp from him.

“It almost worked.” he said, mock-defensively. 

“It really didn’t.” you replied, laughing softly. “We ended up waiting outside for two hours until your mate showed up with the spare key.”

“Yeah, and you still went out with me after that.” he shot back, his lips curling into a smirk against your skin.

“Only because you bought me chips and promised never to try anything that stupid again.” you countered, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw.

He hummed in response, his lips seeking yours for a lazy, lingering kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. “I’d buy you chips every day if it meant I’d get to keep you.” he murmured against your lips.

“That’s very sweet.” you said softly, “but you don’t need to bribe me with chips. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good…because I’m not sure what I’d do without you.” he whispered. “Morning’s overrated anyway.” he mumbled with a smirk, his confidence finally peeking through, making you laugh softly as he pulled you even closer.

His hand slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. The first tentative stroke of his fingers over your folds pulled a quiet sound from your lips, a soft sigh that made his chest tighten. “Yeah? Mhm…you’re real wet.”

He hooked a leg over your waist, tugging himself closer and shifting his weight to make it easier to manoeuvre. With a grumble, he raised his arms over his head, his eyes flicking down at you with a playful tilt to his brow. “Help me take off my shirt.” — somewhere between impatient and endearing.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to grip the hem and pulling it up and off. His messy hair stuck up at odd angles from the friction, and you couldn’t resist brushing your fingers through it as he leaned back down, his lips grazing your jaw.

With the shirt discarded, Alex’s attention shifted back to you. His hand pushed your panties down just enough to free his wrist, not bothering to remove them entirely as he slid his middle finger into you. The stretch was perfect. His hips rutted gently against your thigh, seeking friction as he worked his finger deeper into you, his cock hot and heavy, twitching with every little noise you made. 

“That’s good, Al.” you moaned again, your hips moving against his hand, trying to take more of him.

“Yeah? You like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, his voice strained but steady. He added a second finger, the stretch making you cry out sharply, and he groaned in response. “Mhm…so tight.” he said, his hips jerking reflexively, his arousal growing harder to ignore.

“Just…more.” you gasped, arching into his touch as his thumb pressed against your clit, circling.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he whispered, his words muffled against your skin as he kissed and nipped at the flesh, his scruff leaving a warm, tingling trail in its wake. His fingers moved faster now, just enough to drag a broken moan from your lips.

“Alex…” you breathed, the sound of his name on your lips making his hips jerk harder against your thigh.

“I’ve got you.” he whispered, “I’ll take care of you, love. Just let me make you feel good.”

You arched into his touch, your hands moving to push his boxers down over his hips. He groaned softly as the fabric slid away, freeing him entirely. His cock was still firming, enough to feel hopeful again.

“Yeah…” he breathed, his voice low and thick as he worked his fingers deeper into you, the sound of them going in and out suddenly louder. “That’s my girl…all wet for me. Missed this.” he mumbled against your skin, his voice muffled and hazy. “Missed ya.”

You nodded, unable to form words as his pace quickened, the rhythm of his fingers a barely restrained desperation. “Fuck…you’re perfect.” he whispered, his lips grazing yours in a fleeting kiss that left you aching for more. 

Despite the ache in his shoulders and the subtle burn building in his forearm, Alex kept his focus on you. The way your body moved, the sounds you made — it was all the motivation he needed to push past the weariness settling in his bones. His jaw tightened briefly, a hint of exhaustion flickering across his face, but he blinked it away before you could see. He made sure you didn’t. Every time his movements faltered for even a second, he redirected you — his thumb brushing over your clit with just enough pressure to steal your breath, his lips peppering your neck with kisses that made your body shudder.

Your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing lightly over the curve of his spine, and he hissed softly. “You’re gonna make me come before we even get to the good part.” you teased, your voice shaking slightly.

He chuckled, the sound low and rough, as he kissed you again, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your toes curl. “This is the good part.” he muttered. He curled his fingers inside you just right, and your body tensed, your breath hitching audibly.

“Alex…” you whimpered, your head falling back against the pillow as his thumb pressed harder.

“That’s it.” he murmured, his voice steady despite the faint tremble in his arms. “Let me hear you, love.” You gasped again. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “That’s my girl. Let go for me.”

And you did. Your body arched into him as you came, your moans filling the room as he worked you through it, fingers slowing but never stopping. He kissed you softly, his lips lingering against yours, letting you ride it out at your own pace.

“Beautiful.” he murmured, his voice thick with awe as he finally withdrew his hand. His fingers glistened in the dim light when he brought them to his lips, his eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean. A low groan escaped him at the taste, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leaned back in.

“Alex.” you whispered, your voice still shaky as you reached for him.

“Shh…” he said softly, shifting his weight to pull your panties all the way off. His movements were just a fraction slower than usual, his body heavier as he repositioned himself between your thighs, but he masked it. 

When he slipped inside of you, a soft gasp escaped him, his breath hitching as his shoulders gave the faintest shiver. He paused for a moment, his forehead dropping briefly to your collarbone as he adjusted to the warmth of you, the closeness. It was almost as if he needed a second to collect himself, to process the way you fit around him so perfectly. His focus seemed inward, like he was trying to keep himself tethered, to keep from drifting too far into his thoughts, the drag of him inside you unhurried, as if the intimacy itself was enough to sustain him.

“Al…” you whispered, brushing your hands through his hair, tugging gently to pull his face closer to yours.

He didn’t respond, just shifted forward until his chest was flush against yours, his arms wrapping tightly around your back. His movements grew lazier, his thrusts almost absent-minded, and then he stilled entirely, buried deep inside you as he pulled you tighter against him.

“C’mere.” he murmured and hooked his leg around your waist, the strength in his arms holding you securely as he twisted his body, rolling the two of you onto your sides. The shift was gentle. You went willingly. He kept you close, his arms curling tighter around your back, and when you settled, he pressed his forehead to yours. His gaze was soft but so heavy with unspoken truths that it made your chest ache.

“You okay?” you asked softly, reaching up to cradle his cheek in your palm.

He nodded, but the movement was subtle, barely more than a twitch, and tightness in his jaw told you there was more. Instead of answering, he leaned forward and kissed you softly, the press of his lips lingering.

“Just wanted to hold you.” he finally said. “Needed to feel you close.”

“You’ve got me.” you whispered back, your hand stroking the back of his neck as you pressed your body closer to his. “Always.”

He sighed, the sound heavy but full of relief, and began to move again, his hips shifting slowly, almost cautiously. Your legs tangled together as his thrusts became a gentle rocking motion, his forehead still pressed to yours.

“Is this okay?” he murmured after a moment, his voice low and husky, the words almost lost in the sound of your breathing.

“It’s perfect.” you murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth as you reached down to grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

His free hand slid down your back, holding you to him like he was afraid you’d slip away. There was an edge of desperation in the way his fingers dug into your skin, the way his hips stuttered slightly before he found his rhythm again. He wasn’t rushing, though — it wasn’t about chasing an end. He was savouring it, savouring you. The way he kissed you between each slow thrust, spoke louder than any words he could’ve said. 

Alex groaned softly, burying his face in your neck again as his pace quickened just enough to make your breath hitch. “Fuck…you feel so good.” he mumbled against your skin. His hand slid down to your thigh, lifting it higher around his waist to bring you even closer.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back even now, and you pressed your lips to his temple. “Let go, baby.” you whispered, your voice a soft encouragement as your fingers slid down his back. “I’ve got you.”

His breath hitched, and his pace faltered for just a moment before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His movements grew more instinctive, his restraint slipping as he finally let himself sink, hips jerking forward in a way that felt less controlled, and then he stilled, deep inside you as his body trembled against yours.

“Fuck-” he whispered, the word drawn out as he let himself go.

It was with a quiet groan against your skin, his arms tightening around you as he held you close.

You held him through it, your hands smoothing over his back as his breathing slowly began to steady, face pressed into your neck, his body still pressed flush against yours, before he finally leaned back just enough to look at you.

“I love you.” he murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you too.” you whispered back, holding him tighter, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours as the world around you fell quiet.

Alex exhaled another deep, shaky breath, the tension in his shoulders finally melting away as he settled. “You’re everything.” he said quietly, the words almost lost as he buried his face in your hair.

He stayed there, his breath fanning against your skin in slow, warm exhalations, your bodies still connected in a way that made it feel like you were sharing the same heartbeat. His arms remained draped over you, heavy and firm, holding you close in a way that felt both protective and desperate. You thought he was just catching his breath, trying to calm the storm that had been building all day. But then you felt it — his grip loosened.

It wasn’t gradual, like he was letting go consciously. It happened all at once, his hands slipping from their secure hold to rest limply against your sides, the weight of them going heavy in a way that immediately caught your attention.

“Baby.” you whispered. You tilted your head to try and get a look at his face. He didn’t stir.

“Aly.” you tried again, brushing through his damp hair, pushing the strands away from his forehead. He didn’t react, not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Instead of responding, he shifted slightly, his body curling even closer to you. He made a small, soft noise — barely audible — as he burrowed further into you, pressing his face against your chest like he was trying to disappear there entirely, seeking refuge, breath tickling your skin.

Your heart softened as realisation dawned. He was asleep.

He made it ache too, all at once. You had seen how tired he was. The exhaustion he had carried — the tension in his shoulders, the weariness in his eyes, the quiet hesitations in his voice — had finally claimed him. You let your fingers continue their path through his hair, marvelling at how peaceful he looked now, his features slack and unburdened, his lips slightly parted as his breaths fell. It was such a stark contrast to the tension he so often carried.

“Sweetheart.” you murmured softly, more to yourself than to him, not expecting a response this time. You traced the line of his jaw, your thumb brushing lightly over the roughness. There was something different about it now, something softer, like sleep had stripped away all his worries and left just…him.

He shifted slightly when you moved, but he didn’t wake. Instead, his arm tightened around you — just for a moment, a subconscious reflex, like his sleeping body refused to let you go — before going slack again.

“Okay, okay.” you whispered, smiling to yourself as you adjusted under him. “I’m not going anywhere. Sleep, love.” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ve got you.”

The room was so quiet now, the faint hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the house the only sounds besides his breathing. You felt the rhythm of it, how it matched yours, slow and steady and calm.

You let your fingers drift lazily along his back, tracing patterns you weren’t even aware of. Every now and then, he’d shift slightly, almost imperceptibly, like his body was adjusting to make itself even closer to you.

It was a long time before you let yourself relax fully, but eventually, the warmth of him, the heaviness of his body pressed against yours, lulled you into a kind of peaceful stillness. You stared at the ceiling for a while, your hand still tangled in his hair, and wondered how he had managed to hold so much inside himself all day without breaking.

“I love you.” you whispered into the quiet, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you.

a/n: I’m a very sad lonely woman as you can see. Jus’ a girl. He’s just a baby. Lil’ bebe. Inspired by some reel I saw but I'm too lazy to get the link now.

[nocandnc]

Something interesting I noticed from the Aira + Evil Eye omakes, now that I’ve seen the Japanese text…

In the previous EE omake, he refers to Aira as ‘onushi’ - this is an archaic way of saying ‘you’, as EE speaks in a very old-fashioned way. It’s not rude, but not endearing either - just kind of neutral.

By the next EE + Aira omake, something’s changed. He’s following her around and switched to calling her ‘kisama’ instead of ‘onushi’.

To modern ears, the word ‘kisama’ is very rude. Aira tells him to not say ‘kisama’ - probably because to her, it sounds like he’s using fowl language to address her…

But here’s the interesting thing: ‘kisama’ was originally a very polite form of address!

The ‘ki’ comes from ‘kimi’, a fond way of referring to someone, and ‘sama’ from… well, the highly respectful honorific most are probably familiar with.

As noted above, Evil Eye speaks in a very archaic manner - two centuries have passed since he was alive after all. So given this context, it’s entirely possible that while Aira took it as him being rude, it was actually the opposite—

The Evil Eye could have been trying to act politely instead!

Following her request to not say ‘kisama’, Evil Eye switches his form of address once again, now calling her directly by name. Bluntly calling her ‘Aira’ isn’t exactly polite, but I do think it’s noteworthy that he respected her wishes at all. Rather, I’m a bit surprised he even knows her name lol

He calls Okarun by name as well - his surname Takakura to be exact. That’s another interesting point - the fact that he’ll call Aira by her first name and not Shiratori.

Maybe it’s because Jiji calls her Aira as well…?

Well, just some interesting food for thought in any case ^^;;;

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 14

Here were at the penultimate chapter. Just one more chapter to go and I am so proud of this little story. I know I said that yesterday but it is just such a good story.

The final chapter will be up on Friday!

In this we a misunderstanding, Eddie gets advice from his new roommate, Dr. Hughes is a saint.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

*throws cliffhanger at you and runs!*

~

Steve had been to a lot of places when he competed but nothing was quite like London, England.

The city was massive for a start. And ancient in ways America just isn’t. Steve, Wayne, and Robin had book their flight through Gatwick instead of Heathrow to save on money and so they arrived ahead of the athletes. Which game them time to see a bit of the city.

Robin squealed with delight when she got to ride on the top of a double-decker bus.

“The only thing that would make this better is if it was purple and had a third level!” she said excitedly.

Max had introduced Robin to Harry Potter and there was no going back. She was a Ravenclaw of course. And a good portion of her clothes were in blue or silver. There was no way to get the original blue and bronze from the book for love or money, much to her dismay.

Wayne just shook his head. He didn’t veer far from his sports and shows, but he did enjoy a good British mystery. Him and Eddie watched Sherlock. Though, everyone watched Doctor Who religiously every Saturday on Steve’s big screen TV.

They traveled over the London Bridge, the real one and not the Tower Bridge that everyone confuses it to be. It’s a regular suspension bridge. Which Robin thought was lame.

They arrived at their hotel and Steve and Robin went into one room and Wayne went into the other. Once they were showered and changed, they went to go meet Eddie at the airport. They waited by the baggage claim for him to arrive.

They saw a bunch of athletes pile out of security and they jumped up and down trying to find in the crowd.

Wayne spotted him first. He waved his arm in the air. “Eddie!”

Those chocolate button eyes lit up as Eddie heard his name being called. Suddenly Steve and Robin were joining in and calling his name too.

He patted someone on the shoulder and trotted over to the three of them. He gave them all hugs.

“Can you believe it?” Eddie squealed. “The actual fucking Olympics. And all thanks to Stevie here, seeing my potential.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “I may have recognized your talent, but you’re the one who got you here.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder. “Look, guys. I’d love to stay and chat, but they want us to jump through hoops and shit, so I’ve got to go. But I’ll message you once I get the chance, okay?”

They all nodded and once Eddie got his luggage he was sprinting back to the other athletes.

“Well that was certainly something,” Robin said dryly, pursing her lips together. “I realize that he probably has to check in and stuff, but who was that guy he was chatting with before he noticed us?”

Steve’s stomach twisted as he tried to tell himself he had no claim to Eddie. Eddie was only twenty to his own twenty-six. It was good Eddie was meeting people his own age. Maybe... he gulped hard. Maybe find someone to have a fling with or even...He closed his eyes. He shook his head.

“Steve?” Robin asked breaking into his revery with a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’ve been calling your name for a bit there. You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said with a blinding, and blindingly false smile. “Just hard to be here and not be competing, you know?”

Robin and Wayne shared a glance. They really hadn’t thought about that aspect of this trip. They had been so excited to see Eddie in the Olympics that they forgot that had Steve not been hurt last time, he would be with Eddie, getting his badge and room sorted. Instead of here with the family members.

“Sorry, Steve,” Robin murmured. “I feel like such a bad friend now.”

Steve shrugged her off. He looked at his watch. “I think I’m going to call Dr. Hughes.” He walked off in the direction of the exit, leaving behind a hurt Robin and a solemn Wayne.

Once he was out in open air, Steve felt like he could breathe again. The feelings for Eddie plus the weight of not being one of the athletes was just suddenly too much.

He chew on his thumbnail as he dialed Dr. Hughes. “Please pick up. Please pick up.”

“Hello, Steve,” Dr. Hughes said warmly. “I was expecting you to call today for I took the day off to be available to you.”

Steve slumped against the building wall and huffed out a watery laugh. “Am I really that predictable?”

“No, Steve,” Dr. Hughes assured him. “Trauma is that predictable. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, seeing Eddie standing where you stood four years ago. All hopes and dreams and to have them taken away from you so quickly. You’re allowed to grieve that. I’m proud of you for reaching out.”

“It’s just so heartbreaking,” Steve said, fighting back tears. “I thought I could be happy enough for Eddie. But I just want to shake him.” He cocked his head to the side. “Or, you know, kiss him.”

Dr. Hughes chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to admit to that one. You’ve been pining after that boy for so long, Steve.”

“It’s unethical,” Steve huffed, tilting his head back until it hit the wall behind him. “I’m his coach and I’m six years older. I can’t be lusting over a twenty year old that I have authority over. I don’t want to lose him by being removed as his coach. I think that would devastate us both.”

“That’s certainly true,” he murmured. “But you aren’t his coach right now and it might be a good idea to at least confront those feelings and see where it takes you. You can always find someone else to coach him. Promote Robin. I’m sure she’d love that.”

Steve chuckle was a little watery this time. “Yeah, I don’t doubt it. She’d throw me under a bus if meant getting a fancy coaching jacket.”

Dr. Hughes chuckled back. “Well maybe toss in a bag of corn chips and then she’ll throw you under the bus.”

“Thanks Dr. Hughes,” Steve said, smiling now. “Will it be okay if I call you more during the next two weeks?”

“Fortnight,” Dr. Hughes said in amusement, “the British call two weeks a fortnight. But yes Steve you can call me at any time. Doesn’t matter the time, all right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said breathing a sigh of relief. “Thanks again. And hopefully it won’t be too soon.”

“It wouldn’t matter if it was,” Dr. Hughes said gently. “Trauma is like a box with a button in it and a ball rotating around. At first the ball, life if you will, will keeping hitting the button. Over and over again. Then with time, therapy, and good support system the ball gets smaller and starts to ping off the sides and at odd times, often when you least expect it, the ball will hit the button.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Steve whined, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s like in ‘The Emperor’s New Groove’,” Dr. Hughes explained with a chuckle, “when the squirrel pops the balloon and nothing happens but when Kuzco yells Ha! it wakes the panthers. It’s a bit like that.”

“Oh okay,” he said. “I think I get it. Something bad will happen and you think it will trigger it but it doesn’t. Then something you thought you’d be fine with suddenly awakens the sleeping panthers?”

“That’s it exactly,” Dr. Hughes said approvingly. “You get some sleep and maybe a small snack, both will help with the feelings you have.”

“Thanks again,” Steve said and hung up. He looked up to see Wayne and Robin standing a respectful distance away. “Sorry about that, guys.”

“Don’t you be apologizing for being overwhelmed, you hear?” Wayne said dryly. “It’s not your fault we’re a pair of idiots.”

Robin came up and gave him a big hug. “Yeah. We’re really sorry. But you’ve got to tell us when you get these feelings, we can’t read your mind, okay?”

Steve nodded into her arms. “I’ll try to but sometimes it just hits me out of nowhere and I can’t control that.”

“Roger that!” she said with a sniffle. “I’m guessing just now was one of those moments where it just hit you?”

“Yeah,” he said letting out a shuddering breath. “I was watching Eddie laughing with his teammates and it just suddenly became too much.”

“You always were wet, Harrington,” a sneering voice said from behind them. “I just didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Steve turned around slowly. “Billy Hargrove. I was ultimately surprised Jason made it through the trials. Who did you pay off to take the hit in his heat?”

Billy’s sneer grew to a snarl. “You always thought you were better than everyone else, Harrington but look at you now. Crying in an airport.”

“You always were a better liar than you were a swimmer,” Steve scoffed. “Maybe you should run along and leave the winning to the people who know what that looks like.”

“Bitch,” he snapped and stormed off to a rental Jag that was waiting for him on the curb.

~

Eddie would have flopped face first into the mattress but he was pretty sure that if he did, it would collapse under him. His roommate was a guy named Trent York, who also had been his seat partner on the flight over. They had a lot in common. They liked D&D, fantasy movies, and

they both grew up poor.

Alas, Trent not only as straight as an arrow, but was planning on proposing to his girlfriend if he got on the podium for any of his events.

God, he wished he had been able to stick around with Steve and Wayne and Robin. But Steve had been there before and knew how hectic it was when they first landed, right?

Right?

But when he turned around to wave goodbye, Steve had this look. Like Eddie had done something wrong. And as much as he hated to admit it, it took him awhile to figure out why. From Wayne and his friends’ point of view, it looked like he had been flirting with Trent and then hurried to get back to him.

Which had not been the case and he really didn’t want to have have to overexplain to Steve that it wasn’t what it looked like. Eddie already felt like he was pressuring Steve into something he didn’t want to do.

Which he was absolutely not about, at all.

He laid gently on the bed and flopped awkwardly around so that he was face down into the pillow.

Trent, who had gone to the bathroom huff out a startled laugh. “I really don’t want to know, man. Just don’t bring anyone back to the room and I won’t either.”

Eddie mumbled something in reply.

“Sorry I didn’t catch that,” Trent said sitting down on his bed.

Eddie turned his head so that it was no longer smashed into the pillow. “I’m in love with my swimming coach from back home.”

“Ah.”

Trent looked around for a moment and then spotted a folding chair nearby. He grabbed it and set it up next to Eddie. Then sat on it backwards.

“That’s rough shit, Ed,” he said gently. “I can’t imagine what I would do if Lucy was my coach instead of the one of the girls in the club I swim with. Does he know how you feel?”

Eddie sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. “Yeah. And he feels the same. He’s just worried that swimming commission will remove him as my coach and as all the other coaches where I swim are stuck up snobs, they wouldn’t take me on and I’d have to quit again.”

“Ah ha.”

Trent thought for a moment. “There are a couple other options.”

Eddie scoffed. “Like what?”

“Tell them to fuck off?” Trent suggested. “It’s discouraged not forbidden.”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Eddie said rolling his eyes. “But he’s got some serious trauma and has anxiety.”

“Who did you say your coach was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Okay,” Trent said, his eyes wide in shock. “I’ll admit that even I would tap that if I was gay. Holy shit. Plus like God tier level skill in the water, too. Yeah. Okay. That certainly makes things harder.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie huffed. “So what were your other suggestions for wooing said God?”

Trent pursed his lips together. “Find a coach willing to teach you? Like maybe go to a different pool. Just don’t give up, okay? You really don’t need this right now when you’re about to compete on the world level.”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “Thanks, Trent.”

“Any time.”

~

Eddie made a huge show of apologizing to Steve about how he flounced off when he should have been more attentive.

Steve laughed. “Eddie, I’m a neurotic mess and you’re human. I’ll okay. I promise.”

The smile that he got in return was blinding. Yeah, okay. He really wanted to kiss those lips. But he was going to wait until after his first meet.

Which was in only twenty minutes.

“Go on!” Steve huffed, shooing the menace away. “You’ll be late and I will not have that over my head.”

Eddie raced off as he shook his head fondly.

“You always did have terrible taste,” Robin said dryly.

Steve pushed her playfully. “Yeah, sure. This coming from Miss ‘Tammy Thompson Doesn’t Sing That Bad’, I don’t believe my taste is any worse than yours.”

Robin cocked her head to the side and then shrugged. “Yeah all right, that’s fair.”

Steve started tapping Robin’s arm. She turned to growl at him, but he pointed at the doors that would lead to the pool.

“What’s Chrissy Cunningham doing lurking outside the pool?” she asked with a frown.

“That’s what I intend to find out,” Steve growled, stalking over to her.

When she saw him coming she let out a startled yelp. That brought Steve up short. She turned to them slowly, like a deer in the headlights.

He leveled Chrissy with his best stern authority glare that he patented with his youth swimming classes. She wilted.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, nervously twisting her fingers together. She looked over at Robin and then blushed. “We’ll need to hurry though.”

She turned on her heel and dashed in the direction of the judges.

“Wait!” Robin cried out as Steve and she hurried after her. “Where are we going?”

Chrissy whirled around and still walking backward said, “The judges need to know that Jason is planting more drugs in Eddie’s locker right now.”

Robin and Steve looked at each other in shock.

“Shit!” they said together and hurried to catch up.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 7

Summary: Negan joins Y/N as her date to one of the Christmas parties that the town throws every year. Tensions rise when it's clear that Joel is very unhappy with the relationship that Y/N has with Negan.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Joel Miller, Elizabeth, Peter, Maria, Tommy Miller, Rosita Espinosa, Siddiq, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155437699

Warnings: Swearing, angst, depression, sadness, etc.

One thing that never changed was how fast time flew. It had been two weeks since Y/N and Negan went on that date together. Since then? They saw each other every single day. Even though it was two weeks, it felt like they were getting in the years that they had missed with each other very quickly. Every night they would end up together in one of their beds talking. They talked a lot and it was nice to be able to have something like that again. Having open discussions was an amazing thing. It was thrilling getting to have Negan back in her life again. How quickly they reconnected was fantastic and she was so happy to have this relationship with him. It felt like she had her best friend back. And that loneliness she had grown so used to having for so many years? It was gone. Maybe even without meaning to, Negan was able to heal part of her.

Dread was no longer something she felt when waking up. And that was amazing. It lifted her spirits more than she ever knew was possible.

Pretty quickly the town picked up on the two of them always being together. Then again? It probably was pretty obvious. They were always holding hands. Being close was something that Negan was fond of. Touching each other was just normal. Showing his affection for her in public was not something that Negan had a problem with. And it was very sweet. Since he was kind of a celebrity, she had originally thought that he might want to keep their relationship, whatever it was, in the dark. But he stressed too her that he wanted her to be a predominant person in his life so he didn’t care what other people thought. And he visibly meant it.

Also over the last two weeks, they had spent a lot of time with Tommy and Maria. Those two were the new couple that most of the town had picked up on too. Likely because Maria was the daughter of the mayor so her family was big around their small hometown. But then again? It seemed like a lot of people had picked up on Tommy and Maria meeting each other every night at the diner. The only person who had been pretty oblivious to it was Joel. Which was strange since rumors really got around fast in this town.

Tommy’s fears did come to fruition because Maria’s dad wasn’t incredibly happy with the two of them being together, but Maria shut that down fast. Tommy and Maria were nowhere near being children and she forced her dad to butt his nose out of it. Surprisingly? He did.

The only person that Y/N hadn’t spent a lot of time with lately was Joel. After the day that he picked the children up from Negan’s mother’s home, he never really had much interest in being around. It was unfortunate considering things, but she could tell he was jealous. And he definitely felt negatively toward her being in some kind of a relationship with Negan.

Tonight Y/N found herself at one of the town’s annual Christmas parties that they held. It was the most popular party that they did during Christmas time. They had other events that they ran, but this was the one that everyone seemed to look forward to each year. Over the last few years? This was not an event that she would look forward to. The kids enjoyed it. And it was a tradition, which traditions were the things that she tried to cling onto for Christmas. So she kept coming.

When she was younger? This was a party that she loved coming to with Joel. For some reason, there was a lot of spotlight on their relationship when they were younger. As she grew older, Y/N started to realize that this town had a very archaic way of doing things. Each year at this party they would always crown a snow king and snow queen for Christmas. Which really? It was just them picking a couple in town that had a lot of attention on them. They would crown them, give them sashes and made a big deal about it. To a younger couple? That was pretty cool. To have the whole town acknowledge that your relationship was special? It was fun. Now that she was older it did kind of feel like it was just the town getting into people’s business. And she grew to hate this competition. Especially because they would always bring the old winners up that were still around onto the stage to ‘honor’ them.

Many times she had won the award of snow king and queen with Joel. And the two had taken many photos to prove it. A lot of those photos were up in the attic of her home collecting dust more than likely. Throughout the event, they would play a very cheesy video to show the history of their winners. Looking back on that video throughout the night brought forth a lot of emotions. Embarrassment knowing that she would have to get up in front of people tonight. Sadness because the relationship that she used to be proud of with Joel no longer existed. And there was also a discomfort over the idea that she was now with someone else, yet the town was still flashing her relationship with Joel all night long.

“So explain this for me,” Rosita whispered in Y/N’s ear, pulling her chair in closer to Y/N. Together they were sitting at one of the tables in the giant ballroom. Across from them, Negan was sitting with Elizabeth and Peter. The three of them were sitting close together all staring down at Negan’s phone while he played a video for them to watch. Peter was snuggly resting his head against Negan’s shoulder and it seemed to come naturally. Occasionally, each of them would burst out into laughter, so obviously it was something funny that Negan had put on for them. It was loud in the room with the music that they were playing, so it didn’t bother Y/N with their tiny outbursts. “Are you dating Negan or not?”

“We really haven’t put a label on our relationship yet,” Y/N was honest with her friend, hoping to be quiet enough so that no one else other than Rosita could hear her. Right now? Her heart was fluttering at the sight of Negan with her children. Just like he had with her, Negan connected swiftly with her children. And she loved that.

“How could you not put a fucking label on that? Negan is a professional baseball player!” Rosita blurt out with Y/N immediately hushing her. Grumbling under her breath, Rosita turned Y/N away from the table so they could talk one-on-one. “If you’re dating a professional baseball player, that’s a pretty big fucking deal.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really have an answer for you,” Y/N apologized, stealing another glance back at her children with Negan who didn’t seem to be too bothered. Sliding in closer to Rosita, Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I guess we will have to talk about it. We spend a lot of time together. I feel like we’re inseparable lately.”

“So that means you’re dating,” Rosita stressed, nodding her head in the direction of Negan. “If you’re spending all your time together, I think that means you’re dating.”

“Nothing is official yet,” Y/N repeated, not wanting her friend to get ahead of herself. “I like what we have. It’s been great.”

“So have the two of you…” Rosita made a crude movement with her hands visibly asking if Negan and Y/N had sex. Warmth flooded into her cheeks, stealing a quick look back to make sure Negan and the children were still distracted. Nodding once had Rosita biting back a squeal of excitement. “Like, how many times?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, placing her finger in over her mouth in attempts to keep Rosita quiet.

“You don’t know because you haven’t been paying attention or you don’t know because it’s been that many?” Rosita was excitedly curious. Probably too excited. Clinging to Y/N’s arm Rosita shook it when she realized it was the second. “Girl, I must know. Is the ego legit for a good reason or is it because he’s lacking?”

“He’s not lacking anything,” Y/N knew better than to talk about this, but Rosita was her best friend after all. “And when we don’t sleep together? He loves cuddling. Just holding me in his arms at night. It’s really sweet.

“That’s cute and all, but what about the sex?” Rosita eagerly bounced in her seat wanting the tea on her relationship with Negan.

“I won’t go into details but he’s very good with what he has,” Y/N didn’t want to be one of those people that went into excruciating details. Especially since her children were right across the table from them. 

Clearing her throat, she slid in closer to Rosita so she could speak very quietly, “He knows how to make me squirt.”

“Honey! I told you that Joel wasn’t that good at se…” Rosita blurt out too loudly getting an immediate hushing sound from Y/N to cut her off. This time it drew Negan’s attention who looked up at them. His hazel eyes seemed curious, but when Y/N gave him a cheesy smile he just smirked and went back to watching what he was.

“Joel is good. Don’t even start at that. It’s just Negan, Negan is good too. They are vastly different, but I enjoy both,” Y/N assured Rosita evoking Rosita to roll her eyes dramatically knowing that Y/N was still quick to defend Joel.

“Okay, so you’re the luckiest girl in the world and the two men you’ve been with are incredibly good at sex. Good for you,” Rosita grumbled under her breath, showing a sense of jealousy at the idea of it. “We all can’t be as lucky as you.”

“Siddiq is adorable,” Y/N pointed in the distance to Rosita’s man who was sitting at the table with Coco in his lap. Siddiq was bouncing their daughter on his knee, singing to her while the music played up on stage.

“Siddiq is flawless, but he’s not the only man I’ve been with,” Rosita frowned thinking back on past relationships that she had. “So yes, Siddiq is beautiful, perfect and amazing. But they weren’t all like that.”

“I think what matters is how everything turned out,” Y/N thought aloud about her friend’s relationship. Thinking about Negan, Y/N shifted in her seat and sighed. “With Negan, it’s been nice having someone around when the children are with Joel. That’s for sure. I thought my vacation from work was going to be really lonely. So lonely that I would just get back on the computer and work.”

“What about Joel? How’s he taking it?” Rosita was interested with her eyebrow arching in curiosity. The mention of Joel had Y/N swallowing down hard and she shrugged her shoulders. “After what happened before Negan showed up? I thought he’d have more to say.”

“I haven’t seen him much over these last two weeks,” Y/N replied with a long sigh letting her friend in on what was happening with her ex-husband. “He’s supposed to be here today though. Elizabeth asked him to come specifically for her. And technically? We’re supposed to be here for that stupid dance where they honor the past winners for the snow queens and kings.”

“That’s cute about Elizabeth, gross about the honoring the past winners,” Rosita blurt out, her face wrinkling up in disgust. “It’s such an outdated way of doing things. We should celebrate all the couples and families. Not just single one out.”

“Baby,” Siddiq’s voice interrupted the two of them as he approached them with Coco in his arms. “While that’s a nice thought, I know that you would love to be crowned that and you would eat up the attention if it was you.”

“Oh hush you,” Rosita stood up from her seat to approach her man who giggled in return. Grabbing a hold of Coco, Rosita and Siddiq went somewhere else together leaving Y/N alone to herself at her side of the table.

Being alone allowed Y/N to watch her children with Negan. Peter was telling Negan an elaborate story while Elizabeth bickered back and forth with him. It had Negan looking between the two of them, laughing when one of them would say something to amuse him. It really was impressive how quickly Negan got along with her children. Especially since Negan had been out of her life for so long. Right now? It felt like Negan had never left.

Gasping out, she felt the sensation of a pair of cold hands placing in over her shoulders. Looking back, she saw that it was Tommy. A surprised breath fell from her throat noticing that Tommy’s hair was pulled back nicely into a ponytail and he was wearing a very nice gray suit.

“Tommy, my God,” Y/N stood up from the table, turning to face Joel’s little brother. Extending her hands out, she brushed her hands in over his shoulders and gave him a once over. “You look so good. Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dress like this before.”

“Well,” Tommy stepped aside, his face flushing over when he revealed that Maria was behind him. There was a smile that tugged at his features showing that he was proud to have her beside him. Motioning her forward, Tommy curled his arm around Maria’s waist and shrugged. “There is a reason for that and she’s right here. I want to look the best I can for her.”

“You always look the best,” Maria looked to Tommy with so much love in her eyes. Just seeing that made Y/N smile. Since this was the man that she had helped raise, it was nice to see Tommy find a love like he had with Maria.

“You both look amazing,” Y/N complimented them, holding her hand out to point to Maria’s outfit that she was also wearing. She was dressed in a golden gown that looked gorgeous on her. “Maria, you are stunning.”

“You’re always too kind to me,” Maria stated with a big smile when Y/N stepped forward to hug Maria. Beside them Tommy seemed so proud of the moment.

“Just truthful,” Y/N pulled back to give Maria’s shoulders an assuring squeeze. Motioning them to wait, Y/N turned on her heel and spoke up loud enough for the children to hear. “Elizabeth! Peter! Come see your Uncle Tommy and Maria!”

“Uncle Tommy!” Peter exclaimed at the sight of Tommy once he pulled his stare away from the phone that he was focused on. Getting up from the table, Peter set the phone down and threw his hands up in the air. “What are you wearing? I’ve never seen you in something like that!”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Tommy laughed, accepting a big embrace from Peter as Elizabeth got up and made her way around the table.

“Trust me, it’s a good thing,” Elizabeth accepted the next hug from Tommy while Peter went to go to talk to Maria who seemed just as excited to talk to him. “You must really like this girl, huh?”

“I do,” Tommy acknowledged, squeezing his arms tighter around Elizabeth to give her another big hug. “You’ve met her. How couldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to answer that!” Maria playfully teased with Elizabeth coming over to give her a hug as well.

“Maria, you are so beautiful and you know that I think that,” Elizabeth stressed to Maria, who reached for Elizabeth’s hand to grab a hold of it. Looking over the dress that Elizabeth was wearing, Maria playfully spun Elizabeth who laughed. “Mom picked it out for me.”

“You look gorgeous honey,” Maria assured Elizabeth with a wink, stepping forward to give her another big hug. Over the last two weeks, both Maria and Negan had been able to get close to Peter and Elizabeth. So it was nice to see that they had all clicked so quickly. “Are you alright if we sit with you for a few?”

“Of course,” Y/N knew that they had intentionally made room for them. Both of the children were eager to talk to Tommy and Maria for a while. Watching them made her smile, but out of the corner of her eye she could see that Negan was staring out at her. Winking at him, she wiggled her finger to get him to come sit by her. With a nod, Negan stood up from the table and it drew attention to the three-piece suit that he was wearing that was tailored nicely to his slender form. Moving around the table, Y/N could see that Negan had caught the eye of several people, but by now the town had seemed to have learned to give Negan his space. Especially since he had gone above and beyond for people who came running up to him for photos in the first few weeks. As soon as Negan was seated beside her, she reached out to brush her fingers through Negan’s dark hair that was slicked back. “You are the sexiest man in the room. You know that?”

“Hmm…” Negan hummed, his head pressing in closer to hers. An amused rumble of a sound fell from him, his fingers sweeping in over the side of her face. “I don’t know that, but it never hurts to hear it from the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Going in for a kiss, Negan heard the sound of Elizabeth clearing her throat acting as if she was annoyed. It made both of them laugh when Y/N nuzzled her nose in against Negan’s, “Second most beautiful.”

“Second most beautiful,” Negan repeated what Y/N had said, stealing a quick kiss from Y/N’s lips. Clasping her hand in his, Negan hooked their fingers together tightly and smiled. “Hey Tommy? Did Liz here ever tell you about what happened the other night?”

“About what?” Tommy seemed curious and Elizabeth obviously didn’t know where Negan was headed with his question.

“It was a few weeks ago. She threatened to kick my ass,” Negan slurred, his eyebrow arching in amusement. Elizabeth’s face grew red, an embarrassed sound falling from her lips. “I swore she was gonna kill me.”

“Negan, it’s not funny,” Elizabeth dropped her head down into her hand, wishing like hell Negan wasn’t about to bring it up.

Hushing Negan, Y/N realized where he was headed with the story now that he had both Maria and Tommy’s attention, “Your niece here thought that you and her mother were having an affair. She thought I was you and she was ready to kick my ass.”

“The two of us?” Tommy blurt out, disgust flooding his features when he pointed back and forth between him and Y/N. Nodding, Y/N couldn’t help but be amused with Elizabeth throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. “How in God’s name did you think we were doing something like that kiddo?”

“You were gone all the time,” Elizabeth defended herself with a shake of her head. “I didn’t know why you were gone because you hadn’t told us about Maria yet. So I guess I just assumed, if you weren’t at the house and mom was with someone? Then it had to be you.”

“She raised me,” Tommy reminded his niece who groaned outwardly, shooting a glare over at Negan who laughed out boisterously. “Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is a very beautiful woman, but there is no way in hell that the two of us would ever, ever get together.”

“Nice save,” Negan reached out to pat Tommy on the shoulder. Tommy gave Y/N an apologetic glance and she shook her head telling him that it was okay.

“Onto a less embarrassing subject,” Elizabeth let out a tiny laugh herself, looking around the party. It seemed like the whole town was packed into the ballroom, but there was one person that was missing from the group. “Where’s dad?”

“Oh, uhm…” Tommy started, the tone of his voice changing. Dropping his head, Y/N immediately picked up on the fact that Tommy seemed uncomfortable with Elizabeth asking that. Tipping his head from side to side, Tommy’s eyes met Y/N’s and she knew by the expression that his response was not going to be a good one.

“Is he going to be here soon? I told him that I wanted to recreate that photo that I took with him when I was little,” Elizabeth stressed to Tommy what she had told Joel the other night when she was excited about this party. “A lot of people at my school are recreating photos with their parents and I just remember always loving that one. You know which one I’m talking about, right?”

“The one that you have in your room,” Tommy acknowledged what Elizabeth was reminding him of, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat while he shifted uneasily in his seat. “I uh, I’m sorry kiddo. But your dad isn’t coming tonight. He was pretty busy working on something and he wasn’t able to get away from it.”

“But…” the color drained from Elizabeth’s face hearing that Joel wouldn’t be coming to the party. “I mean, he knew that I wanted to take that photo. He promised that he would be here. He didn’t say anything?”

“He just told me that he would be picking you two up tomorrow morning instead of taking you home tonight,” Tommy explained, nodding between both Peter and Elizabeth. A disappointed breath fell from Y/N’s lips hating that Joel was letting Elizabeth down over obviously being angry that she would be showing up tonight with Negan. “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s okay,” Elizabeth tried to wave off that she was sad about the idea of Joel not showing up. “It was a stupid idea anyway.”

“Nothing is a stupid idea if it’s something that you want,” Negan sat forward in his chair, tapping his fingers against the top of the table to try to get Elizabeth to look at him. “What photo did you want to recreate with him?”

Motioning Negan to wait, Elizabeth grabbed her bag and dug through it to find her phone. Swiping through her photos, she stopped on one and then handed it over to Negan who smiled. It was a photo of Joel when he was younger on the dancefloor with Elizabeth. Joel had obviously won snow king that year by the crown that was over his head.

“How old are you here?” Negan wondered, a big smile tugging at his handsome features attempting to get Elizabeth to talk about what made her happy.

“Five,” Elizabeth answered accepting her phone back after Negan handed it back to her. Setting the phone down on the table, Elizabeth didn’t know how to handle not having Joel there. “It’s fine. It’s just a weird social media trend anyways.”

Someone called out to Elizabeth and she realized that it was one of her friends calling her over, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter followed Elizabeth not far behind and Y/N was quick to turn to Tommy who was ill at ease when she looked to him for the truth, “So what did Joel really say?”

“He just told me that he didn’t want to come to the party tonight. I tried to get him to go, but he was working on a guitar and he said that he didn’t want to,” Tommy alerted her, showing in his body language that he was upset that he had to be the barrier of bad news. “There was only so much I could do. I had to go get Maria, so I couldn’t keep bickering with him.”

“This isn’t like him Tommy,” Y/N noted knowing that Joel had always been an amazing father to their children. “He was supposed to take the children home after the party. Their things are in the car. We were supposed to go up on stage together and do that stupid dance. But most of all, Elizabeth asked him to be here.”

“Like I said, he told me that he would pick them up in the morning,” Tommy threw his hands up in the air noticing the anger that was growing in Y/N’s face. “Hey, don’t get mad at the messenger. I’m just telling you what I was told.”

“Tommy, I know. I just…” she covered her eyes letting out an uncomfortable breath. This was just like Joel to leave her stranded again. “I mean, he’s done this to me with this stupid party several times now. Do you know how weird it feels to have to tell them up on stage that he’s not here so we can’t do it? You saw how upset Elizabeth was.”

“Take Negan with you,” Tommy stammered when he thought about the stage problem that she just pointed out. Maria looked between all of them, not sure what to add to the conversation since she really had no part of it. Hearing that had the lines in Negan’s forehead growing. “I’m sure the town would find him to be an acceptable replacement for my brother.”

“Tommy,” Maria frowned at the suggestion that Tommy gave them, swatting softly at his thigh. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I don’t want to be Joel’s replacement,” Negan assured them, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “Plus? I was never snow king. I mean, Lucille and I tried when we were in high school, but the title went to Y/N and Joel. I think Joel should be here to do it. It’s meant to be a tradition for a reason.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Tommy looked toward the front of the room to eyeball the table where Maria’s father was seated. “We actually are supposed to be sitting with Maria’s family tonight at their table. I just wanted to come over and say hi to you and the family. Since you guys are where my heart is. I would have never told Maria how I felt without you Y/N.”

“And we’ll be forever grateful that you gave him the strength to try to do it,” Maria wrapped her arm around Tommy’s hooking her fingers with his. “I know how much you and the children mean to Tommy. You’re part of my family now.”

Clearing his throat, Negan was being dramatic in the way he tipped his head from side to side wanting some attention too. It made Maria laugh when Tommy reached out to shove into Negan’s shoulder having the both of them burst out in laughter.

“And Negan too,” Maria added to her statement waving her hand about toward Negan who gave her a big cheesy smile. Both Maria and Tommy stood up from the table with Negan and Y/N following suit.

Tommy stepped forward to wrap Y/N up in his arms to give her a big hug. They both went over to say goodbye to the children so they could go to the front table where Maria’s father was. Leaving them alone at the table had Elizabeth coming back with Peter.

“Hey,” Negan called out noticing that Elizabeth still looked bummed about the news of Joel not coming to the party tonight. “I may not be able to do the photo with you, but if you want I’ll dance with you.”

Having Negan offer that made Elizabeth weakly smile. Negan was full on giving her the puppy dog eye staring attempting to get her to smile when he moved in beside her. Nudging her playfully with his arm had Elizabeth laughing, “We can make your friends really jealous.”

“They already know you’re with my mom Negan,” Elizabeth declared making Peter snicker beside her. After a glare was sent his way by Elizabeth, Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Which trust me, they are already jealous of. Just the fact I get to spend time with you makes them jealous. But? You really don’t have to do that in order to make me feel better. I knew that dad hated this party. It was stupid to ask him to do it anyways.”

Looking to her phone, Y/N wanted to call Joel and rip him a new asshole. Sure, she was used to Joel dropping out on her and letting her down, but Joel never let Elizabeth down. To see her daughter so upset made her heart break.

“Well if you don’t want to dance—how about the three of us go get some dessert? Chocolate always makes me feel better,” Negan curled his arms around both Elizabeth’s and Peter’s shoulders pulling them in closer. Peter laughed out loud and pressed his hand in over the center of Negan’s chest to try to pull back. “What do you say?”

“Sure,” Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders getting up with Negan and her brother to go toward the food area together.

Grabbing her phone, Y/N pulled up Joel’s contact information and went to call him. Thinking twice she realized that the whole room didn’t need to know their business. Instead she started writing him a text and didn’t think twice about sending it.

You broke your daughter’s heart tonight. I don’t care about you blowing off the dance, but she really wanted to recreate that photo with you Joel. You should be here if only for her.

Waiting, she stared at her phone and saw that Joel had read the text. Instead of getting a response, she was just left on read which infuriated her.

“God, he’s such a dick,” a familiar voice rumbled behind her causing her to look over her shoulder to see that Joel was kneeling in beside her. His dark hair was slicked back and he was wearing a black suit with a black dress shirt underneath. Shock filled her eyes when she looked him over. Never in the past would he be caught dressing this nice at one of these parties. “You want me to go beat him up for you? I can if you’d like.”

Joel was pointing back toward another area of the room and she felt her face getting hot when she turned to face him in her chair, “Tommy said you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t,” Joel replied back with a smirk, his dimples sinking in with his brown eyes narrowing. “But then I realized last minute I did make a promise to my daughter and I keep my promises to my children.”

“Good,” she breathed out realizing just how close Joel truly was to her. There was a warmth that flooded into her face which she assumed was from the anger that had been building up before he showed up. “Where did you find that suit?”

“I had it from our last anniversary,” Joel lowered his head to look over himself and he shrugged his shoulders. Caressing his hand in over the center of his chest, Joel gave her a weak smile. “I just thought maybe this would be a good time to bring it out and actually wear it.”

“You look good,” she mused smelling his cologne from where she was seated. It made her eyes come to a tight close because of how used to it she had become growing up.

“So do you,” Joel commented eyeing over the red dress that she was wearing. This one wasn’t as revealing as the dress that she had worn on her first date with Negan, but it still did bring attention to her curves. It should have offended her that Joel was eyeing over her breasts again, but it didn’t. “Is that a new dress?”

“Yeah,” she was honest knowing that Joel had made comments already about her dressing different for Negan. Nodding his head, Joel looked her over again before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss against her cheek. By the time he pulled back, Y/N felt a lump in her throat staring into his chocolate-colored eyes. “Elizabeth is going to be happy that you’re here.”

In the distance, Joel could see that Elizabeth was heading back with Negan and Peter. Waiting, Joel didn’t stand until Elizabeth was near the table. Once her eyes fell upon Joel, a huge smile developed over her features and she eagerly set her plate down. Swiftly moving forward, Joel accepted Elizabeth into his arms when she jumped into them to wrap her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“You’re here!” she buried her nose against the side of Joel’s neck, hugging him tight. Considering how sad Elizabeth was when she learned that Joel wasn’t attending the party? This was a nice change of pace for Y/N. More than anything she liked seeing her children happy. And Joel made her children happy. “Uncle Tommy said you weren’t coming.”

“I changed my mind,” Joel kissed at the side of Elizabeth’s face letting out a groan when he lowered her back to her feet. “I wasn’t going to turn down spending time with my children at Christmas time. My daughter asked me to be here and I made sure that I was. Because you both are more important than anything else in my life.”

“Look at you dad,” Peter muttered setting down his plate at the table. Moving around the crowd, Peter moved in front of Joel who stepped back to look over himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look nice like this.”

“Thanks for that,” Joel snickered reaching out to wrap his arm around Peter’s shoulders to pull him close. Even though Peter was being blunt about him never looking that good, he knew what his son was trying to say. “You look good too.”

“I always look good,” Peter gave a big cheesy smile when Joel released him. Chuckling at his son’s antics, Joel pat the side of Peter’s face and shook his head. Rosita and Siddiq had just returned to the table with Coco as the group of them were talking.

Turning on his heel, Joel stopped when he saw Negan helping Elizabeth back into her seat. When she sat down, Negan held his hand out to Joel and offered a weak smile, “You do look sharp Joel. You clean up nice.”

“Right,” Joel looked down at Negan’s hand and there was tension in his features. Elizabeth was staring between the two of them along with Peter and Joel swallowed down hard. Accepting Negan’s handshake, Joel put a bit of pressure to it making Negan huff. Releasing Negan’s hand, Joel took the empty seat between where Siddiq was sitting and Elizabeth leaving Negan to lower down between Elizabeth and Peter again.

“That wasn’t at all awkward,” Rosita whispered as Negan’s hazel eyes connected with Y/N’s. Giving Negan an empathetic look, Y/N felt bad that this was becoming so awkward with Joel and Negan. Shaking his head, Negan didn’t want to draw attention to the negativity when he started talking to Peter about the desserts that they grabbed. “Joel is asserting his dominance.”

There was nothing Y/N could say. Rosita wasn’t wrong. Even by the way Joel kept shooting daggers at Negan with his eyes, Y/N could tell that there was an intense anger that Joel felt toward Negan. Negan felt it too, but he was doing his best to blow it off and keep doing what he had been doing this whole time. He was being civilized and polite despite how Joel was being.

“So…” Rosita picked up on the fact that the table went silent after Joel’s arrival. Things got weird. Even the children realized it. “What do you all want from Santa this year?”

Snickering to herself, Y/N covered her mouth to hide the amusement that she had from her friend trying to start some kind of conversation between all of them. It was somewhat successful because it got Peter talking about something he wanted for Christmas and it drew a conversation that interested Siddiq.

“Hey,” Negan leaned forward, pressing his hand over the table to brace himself. Getting Y/N’s attention, she leaned in closer in attempts to hear him over the music and loud talking that surrounded them. “Do you want to dance?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed, her eyes following Negan after he whispered something to Elizabeth who nodded. Outstretching his hand, Negan helped Y/N out of her seat leading her toward the dancefloor. Joel’s eyes followed them all the way out to where they were. Turning away from Joel, she allowed Negan to wrap his arm around her hips to pull her close to him. With Negan hooking his fingers with hers she tried to focus solely on him. “I’m sorry about Joel.”

“I’m used to Joel,” Negan insisted with a wrinkle of his nose knowing that she was uncomfortable as it was. “You don’t have to apologize for Joel. His actions aren’t gonna make me wanna spend any less time with you and the children.”

“Most people would go running the other way,” she noted with how aggressive Joel had been toward Negan.

“I grew up with Joel. I know what he’s capable of,” Negan smirked with a shake of his head. Most men would be very uncomfortable with an ex-husband like Joel Miller, but Negan took everything in stride. “Plus? I’m a pro baseball player. I understand people can be aggressive. Players, fans, photographers…”

“Good point,” she shrugged as Negan continued to lead her on the dance floor. She was pleasantly surprised how good Negan actually was at dancing. “I don’t know how you do it. Handle everyone and continue to stay so calm. People eat out of the palm of your hand.”

“It’s really easy,” Negan commented spinning her about having her laughing as he did it. When she stumbled back in against his chest, he bit down on his bottom lip and snickered. “It’s all in the eyes. You lock eyes with the person you are with, you do something nice and even if it’s for a second that person is going to walk away thinking they’ve had an amazing experience. Even if you’re being cheeky and kind of an asshole. You keep good eye contact, give a nice smile and people suddenly become manageable.”

“Well, yeah, but you have those ridiculous dimples to help you,” she reminded Negan, lifting her free hand to squeeze at his cheeks. Snorting, Negan chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. “Everyone is going to fall for those.”

“You can thank my daddy for those,” Negan snorted, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. “I am happy that you like them though.”

“There are so many good qualities to you,” she assured him, resting her head against the center of his chest while they danced. Cuddling his chin in against the top of her head, Negan hummed as they danced together.

“Liz is getting what she wanted,” Negan interrupted her thoughts causing her to look over her shoulder to see that Joel had joined Elizabeth out on the dancefloor. At the side of the dance floor it looked like Peter was taking photos of the two of them together. That alone made her happy since that was what Elizabeth had wanted all along. “You know, the only thing I worry about in our relationship is putting a wedge between him and the children. They do love him a lot and with him almost not coming here today…”

“It’s not your fault though,” she cut Negan off, placing her hand in over the center of Negan’s chest noticing the way his hazel eyes were watching Joel with Elizabeth. By the expression she could tell that he was blaming himself for Joel originally deciding not to show up tonight. There was probably some truth to it because Joel was jealous, but it wasn’t all Negan’s fault. “Joel never liked coming to these things. More than once I had to deny going up on stage and doing that stupid dance because Joel hated it. When we were younger Joel was very affectionate publicly, but the older we got the more private he grew. And he hated going to public events. This is completely out of his comfort zone.”

“If you were mine, I would have been showing you off to everyone every chance I was given,” Negan claimed, his eyelids growing heavy with him staring down at her. There it was again. Just with his words, he could take her breath away. “I know I was always the more outgoing one, but when you love someone, you want to step a little out of your comfort zone. Just to show them how much you care about them.”

“You are something else,” she whispered in awe of him, her fingers sweeping in against the side of his face. Something seemed to catch Negan’s attention in the distance evoking him to chuckle. Looking back, she was curious, “What?”

“His moves are a little rusty,” Negan pointed out with them both watching Joel together with Elizabeth. Out on the dancefloor Joel looked stiff as a board while he danced with his daughter.

“Don’t let him fool you. He knows how to dance,” Y/N informed Negan enjoying the way that Elizabeth laughed with Joel stumbling over himself. “He’s doing that to make her feel special. He wants to make her laugh and have her lead him.”

“Ah, that’s smooth,” Negan responded with a long exhale urging Y/N back to look at him while they danced together. “I can tell that he hates me.”

“He hates…most people,” she didn’t want to let that thought eat away at Negan. “He’s just not very happy with life right now and takes it out on others. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Well, I am,” Negan admitted, pulling her in closer to him and licking his lips. “You and I are getting closer and he doesn’t like that. And he doesn’t like that I’m close to the children. I know it’s a jealousy thing. But he’s just gonna have to deal because I’m not going anywhere.”

Smirking, she was glad to hear him say that. Especially since a lot of people would be intimidated and run the other way. Negan could have anyone in this town. Yet he chose to spend time with her. And he wasn’t letting Joel chase him away. That alone was impressive and really made her feel special.

“There is something strange about this town. I mean there always fucking was,” Negan rambled on, swirling her around a bit on the dance floor. “I can never really tell if the people are always staring at me because of who I am. Or they are surprised that the two of us are together.”

“What do you mean by that?” she wondered, looking around realizing that Negan was right. People were watching the two of them. Stealing looks here and there.

“I do question if most of this town thinks it should be Joel that is here with you. Not me,” Negan stressed what he was feeling, his head tipping from side to side. Confusion flooded her features at the idea and Negan shrugged. “I think people expect to see Joel with you. Not me.”

“I think I would go more with the whole gawking because you are a celebrity thing,” she thought aloud, hooking her arms around Negan’s neck as they slow danced together. Stroking her fingers at the dark curls of hair at the bottom of his neck, she shrugged simply. “Joel and I have been split up for over four years now. People aren’t going to suddenly get back together after four years. If the people aren’t used to the idea of me being with someone else? Well, that’s their problem.”

“Still, people get certain ideas in their heads,” Negan grumbled under his breath, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “Instead of seeing a person as a person, they see them as a duo. It was never just Negan. It was Negan and Lucille for these kind of people. Small towns. For you. It was Joel and Y/N. Y’know? I think they get confused to see that Negan Smith got thrown into the mix when it was always Joel and Y/N.”

“I think the people of this town were always too eager to throw their noses in other people’s business,” Y/N offered her input on the situation. “It was part of what I wanted to get away from. Small towns. Big judgements. Hateful opinions. People who didn’t keep their mouths shut about things that didn’t relate to them. Truthfully? They can think whatever they want. It’s a small town, it’s what you expect. But I don’t care what people think. Because I like spending time with you and that’s all that matters to me. I wish we could have been doing it all along.”

“The spending time together or the sex part?” Negan joked with a snort, getting her to lower one of her hands to swat at the center of his chest. “I’m just kidding. I wish we would have been doing this all along too. I missed you. Very fucking much.”

“Ditto,” she replied, tipping up on her toes to meet Negan in a lingering kiss.

“Can I be honest with you about something? And not have you get upset with me?” Negan breathed against her lips speaking softly. A nervous nod followed, but she didn’t know what to expect with Negan’s eyes narrowing once he looked her over. “The person in charge of this event came to me. They wanted to make you and me the snow king and queen this year. I thought it would be wrong using my celebrity status for something like that. Especially since I don’t even live here. So I asked them to make Tommy and Maria the king and queen this year.”

“Well that’s really sweet,” she stressed to Negan who tipped his head to the side, surprised that was the first thing to come out of her mouth. “What did you expect from me? To be highly angry and upset that you didn’t allow us to stand in front of the town uncomfortably?”

“I don’t know,” Negan admitted, his hazel eyes searching hers in amazement. “I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t want to have the spotlight on us or anything. I really care about you and I don’t want this to seem like some kind of publicity stunt to get attention.”

“I support your decision completely,” she hushed him, bringing him in to press another quick kiss against his lips. “I’m not offended at all and I actually think you made the right decision.”

After the song was over, someone got up on stage which had the music dying out. The room grew quiet and everyone had stopped dancing. Realizing that they were about to get to the whole traditions of the party, she hooked her hand with Negan’s while heading back to the table. This time Elizabeth had moved to sit by Joel while they talked so Y/N took the seat between Negan and Peter. A lot of the talking was promoting the local businesses that helped put this party together.

“I find this whole thing to be embarrassing,” she leaned forward to whisper in Negan’s ear while he sat beside her. “Having to go up on stage, accept this honorary award even though we’re divorced and no longer together. Some of these couples haven’t been together in a very long time. It’s just strange.”

“I understand,” Negan leaned in to press a kiss against her cheek hoping to calm her since she was obviously uncomfortable about what was going on.

At this point they were calling all of the past winners up on stage. Embarrassment was flooding her entire body. Some of the couples they were calling up were both younger and older than them. And all the while? Joel’s chocolate-colored eyes were locked on her, watching her closely. By the time that they called their names, neither Joel nor Y/N moved.

“Dad! Mom!” Elizabeth nudged Joel who rolled his eyes. Negan gave Y/N’s shoulder a firm squeeze hinting things would be okay and that he was there to support her. Standing up, Joel extended his hand out slowly. Looking to his hand, Y/N accepted it and moved around the table. While others were excited to have the spotlight put on them again, quickly moving to the stage, the two of them were taking their time.

“Don’t act like you hate this,” Joel grumbled under his breath, his fingers hooking with hers tightly. Joel was speaking quietly enough so only she would be able to hear him. “There was a time when you loved this. Every time we won this, you were awe stricken.”

“I was head over heels in love with you Joel,” she reminded him as he helped her up the stairs of the stage. They made it to about mid-stage where they stopped with the other couples. “The fact the people of the town thought we were the ‘it’ couple for so long made me feel special back then.”

“You didn’t need the town to make you feel special,” Joel whispered, the warmth of his breath lingering over her flesh. From where they were on stage, it was hard to see anyone out in the audience. There was a bright spotlight that was pointed directly at them and it was very blinding. “You liked having the attention. It’s okay to admit that.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to count to herself knowing that there was so much she wanted to say, but now was not the time or place.  She wasn’t paying much attention to the people that were on stage when they started handing out sashes to the previous winners. Allowing them to put her sash on while they worked Joel’s over his shoulder, she let out a long sigh. Looking at the dates they won, she realized that they had won this five times in the past. Dragging her fingers over the dates, she felt her throat tightening up thinking about her past. As the lights dimmed, she looked back over her shoulder. This was just like every other year, but for some reason things were bothering her more. Each year they took a photo of each of the winners where they would play a video in the background showing all of the photos. Obviously, some of the couples were missing. Due to them moving, or not being here anymore. By the time the video got to their first time winning, it made a breath catch in her throat. Their first win was when Joel was eighteen. Seeing the young photo of them had an ache growing at the center of her chest.

“These are so creepy,” Joel whispered in her ear looking over his shoulder like she was. “This feels like a remembrance video. Like I’m dead or something and I’m not. You’re not. This feels less like a celebration and more like a sorrowful remembrance of what things used to be.”

Really? He wasn’t wrong. That’s exactly what this felt like. 

Each photo of the two of them together had that lump in her throat growing. For a couple that was together sixteen years and married thirteen of those years, winning this thing five times was actually a pretty good record. Even in the photos, they looked so happy in the first four. And back then that made her proud. Their relationship felt so happy for so long and the town saw it too. The last time they won snow king and queen together was five years before they got divorced. After that? They stopped winning it. Maybe that was right around the time their relationship started going to shit. The town likely picked up on them not being that loving, obvious couple out in public.

“Our town has always been old fashioned,” she responded to Joel who let out a long exhale. By his breathing she could tell that Joel didn’t want to be up there. Really, she didn’t want to be either. It was the one time she actually agreed with Joel.

By the time the lights came back on Joel was playing with his sash, his attention hardly kept. Hearing the announcement of the newest snow king and queen came with a bit of a shock for Joel. Just like Negan had told her, it was Tommy and Maria. Confusion flooded through Joel’s features when the spotlight was pointed directly at his little brother and his new girlfriend.

“The two of them have only been together…what…two weeks?” Joel grumbled under his breath, tensing up beside her when Tommy slowly stood from his chair and started to help Maria out of her seat. “I guess since he’s dating the mayor’s daughter that makes sense though.”

That wasn’t something she was going to comment on. Especially since she knew this was Negan’s doing with having Tommy and Maria winning. That would certainly piss Joel off to no end. So she kept her mouth shut. 

“I imagine daddy has something to do with this, don’t you?” Joel stammered as Tommy helped Maria move up the steps of the stage. Nudging Joel slightly with her arm, she tried to get him to be quiet. Both Tommy and Maria seemed awkward as they accepted their sashes along with their crowns. Clearly, neither one of them expected to win this which put them on the spot. And Tommy was never really someone that liked being the center of attention. Especially with a town that was so quick to judge him for his mistakes.

“Maybe more people noticed their diner meet ups than they thought?” Y/N suggested with a sigh feeling a bit embarrassed with the part that was coming up with the dancing. “I never really understood how they picked them anyways. But at least they picked Tommy. Tommy has never been picked for anything. So he has to feel good.”

“Or incredibly nervous because nothing ever works for Tommy,” Joel reminded her as she hushed him by covering his mouth with her fingers. Glaring over at Y/N with her covering his mouth, Joel reached for her wrist curling his fingers loosely around them. Getting her to lower her hand, Joel bit down on his bottom lip and huffed. In that moment Tommy had looked back at Joel who had given Tommy a thumbs up and it made Tommy smile.

“Be supportive of this Joel,” she urged him allowing the person in charge to give the instructions. Which told them all to get on the dancefloor together. This was the part that made her the most uncomfortable. Having to dance with Joel again in front of everyone. Taking her hand in his, Joel led her carefully down the stairs toward the center of the ballroom. Tension flooded Joel’s body when he hooked his thick fingers with hers. As the music started, they both did their best to not show their discomfort with one another while they danced. “This will be a big deal for Tommy. This is the first time in a long time I think he’s felt this way about anyone or anything really.”

“Everything is a big deal with Tommy,” Joel claimed, keeping his voice down since Tommy wasn’t too far away from where they were dancing. “Speaking of big deals, am I to assume that you and Negan are now dating?”

“And that’s your business how?” she shot back eliciting an eye roll from Joel. Scoffing under his breath, Joel visibly didn’t like her answer.

“That’s a yes,” he was quick to respond being a bit rough with the way he pulled her in closer to him.

“That’s not a yes,” she shook her head, her eyes showing the irritation she had for him right now. “I was saying it was none of your business, but if you must know…we haven’t put a label on things. We’re just spending time together.”

“So I reckon that means that the two of you slept together, huh?” Joel caused her to grow hot in the face with her looking down between them. That told him everything and she didn’t have to say a word. “Nice Y/N.”

“You were the one telling me that I should have got laid by someone other than you,” she recalled what Joel had said to her that night at the historic village when she brought up their relationship. “You can’t get mad at me for finding comfort with someone else when you were dating Tess. Or when you’ve slept with God knows who…”

“I didn’t want you running off to Negan Smith,” Joel snarled down at her realizing that he was getting a little loud and he lowered his voice. Hearing that had her face growing hot with anger. “Of all the people you decide to knock boots with, it’s him? Him of all people?”

“What do you have against Negan?” she asked bluntly noticing that Joel was staring off toward the table that they were sitting at previously. His dark eyes seemed to be locked on Negan who threw them a thumbs up from where he was seated beside both Peter and Elizabeth. “He was one of your best friends at one point. We both were close to him.”

“Was being the main word there. He kicked you out of his life the moment that we got together,” Joel reminded her of what Negan had done in the past. Narrowing his eyes, Joel turned them away from looking at the table so that she was focused on him. “What has Negan told you about me?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she felt like this was more so an interrogation instead of the two of them dancing together. Which is exactly why she wasn’t looking forward to this at all. “What is Negan supposed to tell me about you exactly?”

“Nothing,” Joel declared, loosening up while they continued to dance. Watching Tommy, Joel did notice that he did look happy while he talked to Maria. There was a color in Tommy’s face, but he never stopped smiling while he danced with the woman before him. It reminded him of how things used to be when he was with Y/N when they were younger. “You know, I never expected us to be like this. I never thought I’d have to worry about you finding someone else.”

“That’s not really fair, is it?” she felt her heart racing in her chest having a chill run down her spine with the way that Joel’s hand settled in over the small of her back. Having his chocolate brown eyes staring out at her the way he was took her breath away. “You’re allowed to find someone else, but I’m not?”

“I just mean…” Joel let his thoughts linger, his voice growing quiet when he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know Y/N. I remember doing this the first time almost two decades ago. I felt like the luckiest boy alive. I was smitten. And then when we won the second time the year we got married, I don’t know. I just thought there was no way that I could ever get sick of this. Sick of you. Because I was so in love with you and I saw what the town saw that year. Because I never thought it would be possible that a man could love a woman as much as I loved you.”

Those words hit her harder than he expected them to. It had tears burning at her eyes and she grew tense against him, “I always thought it would be Joel and Y/N. Us against the world. And I thought we’d grow old together. I never saw another option. Because you were it for me.”

“Damn it Joel,” she stopped dancing, but her hand was still hooked with his. A hurt exhale fell from her throat when she shook her head. There were tears over her face now causing an ache to grow at the center of his chest. “You’re the one that asked me for a divorce. You’re the one that came to me with papers and now you’re talking like I’m the reason that we are divorced.”

By now Tommy had caught on to the fact that Y/N was crying. He was trying to force himself to keep dancing, but his dark eyes had a hard time breaking away from Joel and Y/N. Right now they allowed everyone else to come up onto the dance floor to dance and she was thankful for it because it drew any attention on them away with the couples that actually loved each other and cared about one another wanting to spend the time together.

“I did everything I could to try to fix us,” her hand was shaking when she lifted it to place it over the center of her chest. “I loved you with everything that I was. I would have done anything to fix our marriage, but you’re the one who wanted it to end. Not me. So how dare you say all of this to me? I’m not the reason we’re divorced Joel. You are. I begged you to reconsider. And you wouldn’t.”

Dropping his head, Joel’s dark eyes avoided looking at her when she threw her hands up in the air, “I felt everything you said you felt in the past. I was happy. I loved my life and even though you were so fucking mean toward the end of our marriage…I knew that it was just you depressed. Because deep down you loved me. You were an amazing man. You made a life for your family. You loved your children so much, but each day you were with me I saw you die a little more inside. Do you know how much it hurt to have you blame everything on me?”

“I didn’t blame everything on you,” Joel reasoned with her hoping that everyone wasn’t hearing what they were saying. Rolling her eyes, she started heading away from Joel, pushing through him to get away from the dance floor. More than anything she needed some air and to get away from everyone. No one needed to see her crying like a fool. Leaving the ballroom, she was close to getting outside by the time she felt someone grabbing a tight hold of her wrist to stop her. “Can we just talk? Please?”

“What do you want to talk about Joel?” she inquired feeling broken as it was. “Do you know that the children blamed me when we got divorced? Asked me why I didn’t fight harder for you? Why I let you leave? They were so mad at me for forcing you out. I never had the heart to tell them that their father was the one that wanted to run away. That it was him that couldn’t stand to be in that house anymore.”

“We were both miserable,” Joel suggested, his fingers slowly falling from her wrist when he rest his hands at his hips. “If we wanted a healthy relationship with our children…”

“Don’t,” she held her hand up in the air to cut him off. “I wasn’t miserable. I was heartbroken because I didn’t understand what it was that I did to make you hate me so much. You went from being the sweetest, most affectionate man I had ever known to being a man who reminded me every day the mistake you made in picking me. In picking us.”

“The mistake I made was how I treated you,” Joel grumbled, his jaw flexing with her sobs filling the hallway. Seeing her crying like that had his chest hurting. He wanted her pain to end, but he didn’t know how to fix it. “I had the whole world in my hands, but all I could think about was what I didn’t have. What I was robbed of. It’s not fair that I had to give up my life for everyone else Y/N. I could have been someone. I could have meant something to the world, but instead I’m stuck in this fucking place.”

“You were always someone Joel,” she stressed, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “You were the boy that was selfless and chose to take care of his brother instead of leaving him with strangers. You were a father. You were my husband. And you were and you still are so incredibly loved. So for you to think you haven’t left an impact on this world is sad because you did. That was the problem. You could only see the life that you missed out on. Not the life that you built for yourself. The life that loved you so very much.”

“I’m sorry,” Joel found himself at a loss of words. Caressing at the back of his neck, he tried to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know what to say because my emotions are conflicted about everything that happened. I know how I felt when we were married, but I know how I feel now. And how I feel about you is strong. I made the mistake back then. Not when I got married to you because being married to you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You play with me Joel,” she held her hands up to stop him when he approached her and she placed her hands in over his chest to keep the distance between them. “You take advantage of the fact that I’m head over heels in love with you. You know how I feel about you. You always have.”

Silence filled the empty hallways. Nothing but the sounds from the ballroom where the party was being held were heard. It made her let out an ironic laugh and she shook her head.

“Do you have any idea how many times we’ve had sex since we’ve separated?” she quizzed him on something hearing a loud exhale follow from Joel. Taking a moment to think things over, Joel threw his hand up in the air and she nodded her head. “You’d be surprised how big the number is Joel. Even moments where you were dating Tess…”

“I’m aware,” Joel was confused where this was headed noticing the tremoring in her voice with her speaking. Having her remind him that he cheated on Tess to be with her would only further for him that Y/N was more important to him.

“You always come back to me. You always make me believe that you love me. That there is something between us, but I always end up the same way,” she hissed, her voice growing louder and Joel motioned her to keep calm. “Alone.”

Joel’s lips parted, his eyebrows furrowing when he tried to think of something to say, “You don’t love me. You just love what I can do for you. If you actually loved me, if you missed how things were you would do something to prove it Joel.”

“I don’t know how,” Joel called out to her when she turned on her heel and started to push open the door.

“And that’s the problem,” she didn’t even bother to look back at him when she made her way outside. Pretty quickly she realized just how much of a mistake it was to come outside with no jacket on, but she didn’t care. She needed her space. Heading into where the garden would be during the summer, she went to the center and tried to catch her breath. The sound of snow crunching behind her was heard and it made her tense up. “Joel, damn it…”

“Not Joel,” another familiar southern drawl was heard behind her when she turned around to see that Tommy was approaching her. The sight of him still wearing the crown and the sash that he wore tonight took her breath away. The last thing Tommy should have been doing was chasing her out. “What did he do now?”

“Tommy, you shouldn’t be out here,” she attempted to wipe at the tears that were over her face knowing that this should be a happy moment for Tommy, but instead he was following her out because he had seen her sad.

“Of course I should be,” Tommy stepped forward, stretching his arms out to reach for Y/N. Embracing her in his arms, he pulled her in against him and wrapped her up tightly. Squeezing her firmly, she knew that he was attempting to comfort her. “I love you. You’re my family and to see you upset makes me upset.”

“I love you too,” she repeated, allowing her head to rest against the center of Tommy’s chest when he stroked his fingers over the back of her neck. “I’m sorry about this. You just know that your brother can get under my skin more than anyone.”

“What did he do now?” Tommy was desperate to know with her pushing back slightly to stare up at him with her tear-filled eyes. “Please talk to me. I’m not that little boy you had to adopt Y/N. I’m here for you. You were there for me. And you remain that way. So please talk to me.”

“Tommy,” she felt her chest aching seeing the sadness in Tommy’s eyes staring out at her. Reaching up, she adjusted his crown that he was given and she shook her head. “You should be in there celebrating this right now. You care so much about that girl…”

“And that girl knows what you’ve done for me,” Tommy educated her about Maria, his hands lifting to cup her face in them in a supportive sweep. “So she understands what you mean to me. We have all night to cherish this. I want to be here with you right now.”

“I’m just too emotional,” she brushed off her feelings, but Tommy hushed her and shook his head. “I don’t know Tommy, he just started talking about how he always pictured that we would be together. That I would be his always and it would be us against the world. The way he talks about things, it’s like he puts the blame on me for the divorce, but you know just as much as I do that he was the one that asked for the divorce. He’s the one that walked out on me. He’s the one that forced me to sign those papers. Yet, he talks like I fell out of love with him when you know that I never did.”

“I think he just has a lot of regrets,” Tommy tried to reason with her about his older brother. “He’s emotionally…constipated.”

A laugh fell from Y/N’s lips hearing Tommy refer to his brother in that way. With an innocent shrug, Tommy didn’t know how else to explain Joel, “I think there are so many emotions that he has bottled up inside of him that he doesn’t know how to handle. So he just puts up this tough guy exterior and he doesn’t know how to turn it off.”

“But he hurts me in the process,” she whimpered noticing the way that Tommy dug into his pockets for a tissue for her. “I probably look psychotic right now. My make up is likely running and…”

“It’s a good make up job because nothing is running,” Tommy assured her with a weak smile caressing his hand in over her shoulder. “I’m sorry about Joel. The biggest mistake he ever made was letting you go Y/N. And I think he’s starting to realize that.”

Laughing at the idea, Y/N shook her head and had to look away from Tommy to have a minute to consider that, “I don’t think having Negan around is helping him either.”

“Too bad,” Y/N stammered hating to hear that the person who was going above and beyond to help her feel better was such a problem to Joel. “Negan has been nothing but good to me. He goes out of his way to make me feel good about me. And he’s so good and accepting of all the things going on in my life.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to let go of that,” Tommy claimed his hands lowering down to squeeze hers tenderly. “I’m just telling you that my brother is upset because ultimately he sees everything that he wanted to be in Negan. He wanted to be famous. He wanted to be able to go and use his talents to have the world loving him. Then Negan shows up and he has you smiling. He has you laughing. Anyone with eyes can tell that Negan likes you by the way he looks at you. Joel is jealous because he could never accomplish the things that Negan does. So he’s a bigger mess now than he ever was.”

“It’s not fair that now is the time he decides to do all of this,” she hated to be whining, but it hurt with what Joel was doing. “I was there for four years. He could have made his move, but now because I have someone who genuinely cares about me…”

Footsteps drew both Tommy and Y/N to look back seeing that it was Negan that was approaching them, “I can come back if you’d like?”

“Truthfully?” Tommy looked between Negan and Y/N letting out a tense breath. “I think you are probably the thing that she needs the most.”

“Tommy,” she called out to him, stroking her fingers over the back of Tommy’s hand. “You are the sweetest boy I’ve ever known.”

“And I wouldn’t have picked another woman to help raise me,” Tommy vowed, bringing her hand up to press a kiss over the back of it. “I’m always going to be here for you Y/N. Even if my brain isn’t always in the right place, I just want you happy. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” she repeated once more, stepping forward to wrap Tommy up in her arms to give him a big hug. Stroking her fingers over the back of Tommy’s head, she turned in to press a kiss against Tommy’s cheek. “Now you go in there and woo that girl. Show her how lucky she is to be sharing this moment with you.”

Nodding, Tommy slowly released her and then turned to Negan patting him on the arm, “Take care of her.”

“Yes sir,” Negan gave a wink starting to undo his suit jacket. Letting it fall down his arms, Negan carefully stepped forward moving in behind her. “Let’s warm you up.”

Allowing him to help put his jacket on her had her sighing loudly. Tugging the material in closer to her body, she felt the warmth of it soothing against her chilled skin. The scent of Negan’s cologne was strong and she found herself rubbing her cheek up against it. Closing her eyes, she felt Negan’s arms hooking around her from behind. A gentle kiss was placed against the base of her neck which had his short beard tickling at her flesh.

“Are you okay?” Negan nuzzled his nose against the back of her neck. Lowering her arms, she caressed over them while he comforted her.

“I’m sorry Negan,” she apologized, leaning back into him. Even though she had Negan who was perfect at that party, Joel was able to get under her skin so badly with the things that happened in their past. Firmly, Negan squeezed his arms around her and cuddled her close. “Here you are as my date and I’m having a meltdown outside.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Negan insisted with her turning in his arms to give him a doubtful expression. Lifting his hand, his palm caressed in over the side of her face with his eyelids growing heavy. The contrast from the warmth of his hand against the side of her face felt nice. “You don’t. I’m not upset with you. At all.”

“I don’t understand how you couldn’t be,” she replied placing her hands in over his chest to caress over the area. There was so much baggage that she had to deal with and Negan had been a saint so far in their relationship. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“And so am I,” Negan suggested with a grunt, his nose wrinkling as if that wasn’t a big deal to him. “I am so fucked up over losing Lucille. And it’s so hard for me every day being alive when I know that she’s not. I am still head over heels in love with my late wife, so I’m not going to judge you for being the same way about your ex-husband.”

Hearing him calling her out on still being in love with Joel drew her to tremor and she looked down, but he didn’t allow it. Curling his fingers in underneath her chin had her lifting her head to lock eyes with him, “The difference between me and you is that I had it easier.”

“How?” she blurt out, doubting that since the person he loved was no longer here.

“The woman that I loved, I lost. She’s gone,” Negan reasoned, his head tipping from side to side. “The love of my life died. But yours…he’s still here. And he left you knowing that you loved him like you do. Lucille left me not because she wanted to but because the world took her away from me. Joel left and you have to see him every day knowing that he’s there.”

“Well shit,” she grunted closing her eyes, leaning further into Negan’s touch. Gently he swept at her tears, still trying to calm her. 

“I understand if you want to be with Joel,” Negan was quiet in the way that he spoke making her eyes flutter to an open. Sweeping away one of her lingering tears, Negan hushed her and shook his head. “I won’t be mad at you for loving Joel. I know you do. I can see it in the way you look at him. If you want me to back off, I will happily do it. Fuck, I just need to make sure to keep you in my life as a friend or some shit because I can’t lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” she responded, her hands caressing in over Negan’s shoulders. Deeply considering what he said, she shook her head and let out a tremoring breath. “I love Joel, very much. And the man will always have a strong grasp on my heart, but no one has ever hurt me like Joel has. Joel broke my heart. And I’m a mess because of him.”

“You’re not a mess,” Negan whispered, caressing his fingers at the back of her neck. Pulling her in closer to him, Negan allowed her to rest her head against the center of his chest. “You’re just hurt. And you’re human. You loved Joel for a very long time, that kind of love is hard to let go of.” 

Tipping down, Negan pressed a tender kiss over her forehead and it had her sighing loudly, “I can’t be with Joel. As much as I love him, he will never love me back the same way. The only thing I’m destined for if I get back with Joel is a life full of pain. Loving someone that much and not feeling it in return? The only option from there on out is heart break. I’ve given him so many chances. And I can’t take any more of that because I don’t know how much of my heart I have left to break.”

“Come here,” Negan urged her to him, holding her close. Allowing her to calm down in his arms, Negan whispered the things that he knew she needed to hear. By the time she was finally relaxed, he had his chin resting over her head and he was rubbing at her back. “I think we should get you back inside before you freeze to death.”

Accepting his hand, she allowed Negan to cautiously lead her back to the building. Once they were back inside, Joel stepped out from behind the back wall where he had gone after she left the building. Originally he had chased after her but had fallen short when he heard her crying. There was nothing he could think of to make her feel better and before he could try, Tommy came out to comfort her. Which means he heard everything that she said to both Tommy and Negan.

Ultimately? It made him feel terrible and he knew that if he wanted something more with Y/N, he was going to have to do his best to show her that he loved her. One way or another.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[bringthekaos]

Alrighty, here we go. Act III.

Mostly Jayce and Viktor centric, but with some wider thoughts as a whole thrown in. As usual, this is all my opinion, you’re free to disagree with me. Just don’t be a dick.

I am torn. I’m appreciative of the visuals and the JayVik crumbs (even though Christian Linke’s comments post-show have soured it to queerbait for me). But mostly I am disappointed. And I so badly didn’t want to be. I had such high hopes (and that’s probably my fault. I expected too much). They completely massacred Viktor’s character. There was such beautiful setup in season one of his background as a Zaunite living in Piltover. So much of his lived experience came from that—the oppression, the inequality, the xenophobia, the inaccessibility. It formed his opinions and his values, and that’s why he was so adamantly anti-weapon making. That’s why his number one goal was always to help the people in need down in Zaun. They showed us that he was a tinkerer and a builder, that he valued the ingenuity in machinery. They gave us that cute little boat from his childhood and the fucking Hexclaw.

Viktor was supposed to be a Zaunite champion. He was supposed to embrace Techmaturgy as a direct opposition to magic/Hextech. He was supposed to undergo his transformation into the Machine Herald of his own volition, with his own agency and bodily autonomy (yes I know it also stemmed from severe depression and one could argue that it messed with his decision-making, but still… he did that shit on his own). And there were so many opportunities to go this route in Arcane, and it would have worked!! If Viktor augmented his hand and his leg, but it cost Sky her life, he could realize the cost of magic, and turn to Tech. He could have been exiled back to Zaun, where he was supposed to be, and then the shitshow really could have unfolded—having one of Hextech’s creators now working for the other side.

And I know they had to change it so that he could be a bigger part of the overall narrative, as his original lore was rather disconnected. But there were much cleaner ways to go about it than disrespecting his entire character arc by turning him into a grimdark edgelord ethereal magic Jesus who no longer notices or even seems to care about the oppression and class warfare going on in his birthplace. Like. I’m sorry, him “curing” Salo? OG Viktor would have taken one look at a representative of the very oppression he stood against and blown him to kingdom come. (And yes, I also realize that he did it in Arcane because he was “under the influence” of the Hexcore, which only wanted to “infect more people.” But that’s another problem I have. This was never really made all that clear. And watching him go from “we will not be building weapons, that’s not why we invented Hextech/there is always a choice/we were meant to improve lives, not to take them” to making him turn human beings into weapons?? I don’t care that they tried to salvage his character by suggesting he wasn’t in control, it still undermines everything about him. And GOD, original League Vik had so much DEPTH. He was a hypocrite, he was still partly human and so he retained pieces/parts of all the things he preached against, which made him a wonderful contradiction. And he had a sense of humor and whimsy too! He enjoyed sweet milk, he cracked dry jokes and was sarcastic as fuck. He had a personality! And now he’s just… empty space man blinded by forced apathy.

And I think all of this is part of a larger problem—they wanted to use Arcane as a stepping stone to future shows, and as such, the class warfare and systemic oppression plot from season one was completely abandoned. They tried to solve it with “well they have to band together to face a bigger enemy.” Which in my personal opinion is a cheap cop out. There are always bigger fish, that doesn’t change the fact that Zaun has been living in Piltover’s filth with Piltover’s boot on their neck for generations. They’ve suffered injustices most of us can’t even comprehend. And then suddenly we’re supposed to believe they all band together to face this threat, stand side by side with their oppressors because Jayce made one speech about it? With no proof? And then all they get from the deal is one Zaunite seat on the council? And they’re okay with that? I never expected the show to solve systemic oppression, but I also didn’t expect them to abandon it this spectacularly.

The Noxus/Black Rose plot was clearly thrown in to set up future shows, and to show Netflix/investors/whoever that this massive financial investment has a future. And it destroyed the Piltover/Zaun story. I think this could have been a totally isolated story just about Piltover and Zaun, and been completely successful. In fact, I would have definitely watched future projects despite them not taking place in the setting of Arcane. And I’m not at all saying I don’t like Ambessa and Mel. I was very intrigued by the story of a warmonger like Ambessa facing her comeuppance, not just for her warmongering but for her affair with a damn MAGE. And her daughter trying desperately to break the mold her mother has set for her, while also struggling with who she is and these new, incredible powers she has. That shit is juicy as hell, and honestly should have been its own show. But throwing it into Arcane in season 2 with absolutely no hint of the Black Rose or its impending approach (beyond “the people who killed your brother don’t think the score is settled”) in season one, it just felt like the aforementioned cop out to get Piltover and Zaun to get along. And in doing so, they steamrolled Viktor to make him a bigger player in the narrative.

Did I like the final astral plane scene with Jayce and Viktor? God, yes. Is it one of the most beautiful confessions of love and eternal devotion I think I’ve ever fucking seen? Also yes. But it kinda feels like a bandaid on a bullet wound. I got the love I always knew remained between Jayce and Viktor, but I paid for it with Viktor’s entire character. Not to mention Christian Linke keeps pouring salt in the fucking wound, denouncing JayVik and “bromancing” them, and then also suggesting in one interview that Jayce and Viktor are actually fucking dead, and in another that Viktor will be back in future projects (with no mention of Jayce, which suggests that they’re turning him into Sky 2.0 and that he’s dead but Viktor isn’t). And that completely undermines the entire ending of season 2’s “intrinsically entwined/always you/in every universe.” And I know, I shouldn’t listen to this dude’s opinion on the matter, he’s not the only one making this thing, and honestly it was the easiest unfollow/mute of my life. But how hard is it to just shut the fuck up and let people enjoy things? To not comment one way or the other, let people think what they want, and rake in your millions in the process? Haven’t you ever heard of rainbow capitalism, my guy?

Ugh. I’m very sorry for being so negative, I didn’t want to be. I still love the show, and I’d still like to keep writing JayVik, even though it’s just been made near-impossible (I’m actually really glad that I never finished Oasis now, cuz I can go back to that and expand it well beyond what I originally planned cuz… it’s all I have left). I’m just mourning my cyborg wife, and the fact that goddamn SMEECH had what Viktor was supposed to. Hopefully the more time goes on, I can reconcile these changes and embrace them, cuz I love this fandom, I love this ship, and I don’t wanna lose it.

Anyway, I will still be sharing art and memes and posting analyses, because you can like a piece of media and still be critical of it.

[oodlyenough]

continuing my arcane s2 ted talks i guess, i've been trying to decipher how i feel about the medardas' plotline in s2 and i never really land anywhere but a sort of disgruntled marge simpson groan.

i think anyone who paid any attention at the end of s1 or spent even ten seconds theorizing probably knew mel was a mage and her shield magic would protect some or all of the council. i was surprised this reveal didn't happen right away, and i liked that initially we see an overhead shot showing her totally-undamaged bubble around her seat. i could roll with jayce wondering why he survived and mel sort of shrugging it off. the black rose stuff in act 1 i also found intriuging and the action scene with amara was cool. i was excited that kino would be more relevant

but then act 2 ... it felt like we put mel in the torture labyrinth only to draw two conclusions, the first being that she's a mage (no duh; we could've revealed it in the first episode) and the second being that she's a bastard child from a secret love affair her mom had. and then we uh. didn't really explore that second part at all. we learn, sort of, that her mom has some beef with the black rose; if you don't play League you have no idea who or what they are; they claim Ambessa let Kino die and only wants Mel as a weapon; when confronted Ambessa only half-answers and seems to disdain mages; Ambessa ends up fighting Mel, gets killed by Mel's double bluff, and then Mel takes over the Medarda clan for... some reason (does she want to? does she HAVE to?)

mostly it ends up feeling like a backdoor pilot for a future noxus spinoff. and a future noxus spinoff starring mel isn't a bad idea; it's just that it feels like a lot of screentime in an already-frantic final season for arcane was then spent on a plotline that doesn't really resolve.

also in season one i thought mel and ambessa's relationship was very interesting and i looked forward to more of it. i thought the idea of ambessa sending mel away because mel's big puppy eyes made her feel guilty for doing what she felt she had to do, and mel feeling that as a rejection/banishment/lack of love fit nicely into the general themes of s1. i... just don't really know how the secret mel magic that ambessa hates and/or covets (unclear) adds to that rather than weakening it. their two conflicting worldviews alone set them up nicely to butt heads in season 2, especially with caitlyn potentially stuck in the middle, torn between both of their guidances and philosophies. instead it's like mel mostly inhabited a different show for most of her screentime.

i'm also not super convinced ambessa was written with the same level of sympathy characters like silco got in season 1. it certainly seems to me she gets less of that from fandom, anyway, who treat her like a uniquely evil character even for a major antagonist. it's hard for us to understand her motives when we don't really know what they ARE, the origin of her black rose feud, who tf the rose are to begin with, the true circumstances around kino's death and mel's banishment, etc... if this is all the unofficial pilot for a Noxus spinoff it might as well have just waited until then and let us use this screentime to expand on the other things in s2 that needed to be expanded/wrapped up in their final season.

[xaphii]

Pretty sure this isn't an original thought but I head-canon that solas probably used sex and flirtation during the evanuris-war, so he knows how to be chrasmatic and flirtatious and he is used to using it as a weapon.

So in DA:I when he sees Inky blushing and he speaks about dominating her will/her muscles/her reflexes? (idk what the rogue one is) and he flirts with her, even though its honest, even though he legitimatley likes her there's a part of him the recoils and whinces. Because he honestly likes this woman, but all he's ever know is how to use attraction as a weapon, as a knife, so when he uses it, even unwitingly against this woman he respects and values, it kills him a little bit. Hence the constant 'we shouldn't it isn't right'. But by the gods does he want her.

And while I don't see all the CONSTANT sexual tension people are banging on about in DATV between Solas and Rook, I do see it in the switcheroo scene in act 3 where he swaps places with them (the hand thing with the knife), and to me thats just a natural part of the dread wolf persona he wears, sexuality as a weapon. Like oh yes this man whose cheekbones and sarcasm has been disarming you for the better part of the last 2.5 acts IS the bad guy. He doesn't care about you, he needs you to fulfill a purpose, he might not have seduced you romantically but he definitely seduced you into trusting him (doubly so if you were a solasmancer cos lets be real we were all too busy drooling along to Graeth David-Lloyd's voice to pay attention to anything else) he slipped into a role he knows how to play.

So... yeah

[silcoitus]

Hello! I think I'm doing this right but if not, I'm so sorry:

What do you think Silco would do if he found out, years later/during Act 2, that a fling he had when he was alot younger and dumber, resulted in him having a Son/Gender neutral child living in Piltover?

(how this is discovered can be completely up to you)

Would the angst of them being a Piltovian(?) citizen permanently leave their relationship undefined or would he push away his hatred of Piltover and try and meet them?

Better yet, how would Jinx react to this?

Just a bit of potential angst to spice things up I guess haha.

Thank you!

Thank you for this amazing prompt, anon! It's one of my favorite ones I've ever received! Why does writing angst soothe me? It doesn't make sense.

Summer's Ghost

Masterlist | AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: Silco, original female character, original child character, angst, depression, reference to character death, character study

Word count: 2.7k

Beta reader: @juniper-sunny

Silco receives a curious letter from a Piltie boy claiming to be his son. Spurred by lingering bitterness and unresolved anger, Silco visits Topside for answers and to finally speak his mind to the woman who left him so many years ago.

Dear Mr. Silco,

I'm not exactly sure how even to begin this letter, so I’ll start with the part that is most relevant to you:

I am your son.

I know, I didn't believe it at first either. But if you keep reading, I can tell you how that happened.

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover. She was the top of her class and an artist. My grandparents tell me that, in her university days, she had a bit of a rebellious streak. She ran away from home to live in the Undercity. Over the course of a summer there, she met a man. And fell in love.

You probably know more about how the rest of this story goes than me.

After that summer, my mom had a change of heart. She returned home with a new bundle in tow: me. And while she never told me, I assume she left the Undercity in order to raise me here.

But you probably don’t care about all that. You just want to know why I’m writing to you. 

Well, first off: I'm not asking for money. My mom (and grandparents) provided for me and I have a comfortable life here in Piltover. 

I don't want anything from you. Not really. I wrote because… well… My mother died recently. It's actually how I found out about you. My birth was a closely guarded secret and it was only when I was cleaning her stuff out after her death that I learned. She had a box of things from her time with you: a diary, some photographs, a bracelet. I thought you might want them.

I don’t know what your relationship with my mother was like or how it ended, but this seemed like something she would want me to do. If I crossed a line, I’m sorry. 

I've attached her obituary. It has her final resting place. If you want to collect the box, I've left it on her grave. If you haven’t taken it by next week, I’ll assume you want nothing to do with it. And that’s okay, too.

Sincerely,

M.

P.S I also included a photo for proof. You can hold onto it. I already made myself a copy.

When finally Silco lifts his eyes from the letter, it's with slightly parted lips and inward curling eyebrows. Visions of memories long ago flick across his mind’s eye unbidden, released like water from a dam. 

Setting the letter down, he retrieves the other effects in the pneumatic tube. Fingers tremble as they pull out a small photograph. It's worn around the edges and the ink has faded significantly, but the image is unmistakable: it's him in his early twenties, standing next to the woman who left him.

He remembers that summer clearly, the memories vivid and the feelings so strong it could power a Hexgate. He remembers the late nights talking, the sound of her laugh, the way she was always sketching in her notebook. He remembers the first time they kissed, followed quickly by the first time they made love.

Silco’s lips press into a thin line, something bitter bubbling within him. 

He remembers his desperation when he ran through the Lanes, searching for her. He remembers how he couldn’t sleep for days, worried something had happened. That someone had taken her. Or worse. He remembers crying so hard that he could feel it in his teeth, his cheekbones feeling as if someone was pressing their thumbs to them with the aim of crushing them. He remembers drinking.

And drinking.

And drinking.

Drinking to cope.

Drinking to forget.

Drinking to wash down the bitter taste of the knowledge that he had let someone get so close to him so quickly, only for them to rip his heart out and slash it to pieces. And to add insult to injury—

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover.

He stares at that word again.

Piltover

Hand shaking violently, he picks up the pneumatic tube and hurls it across the room. It breaks on impact as it hits the office door, glass shards flying through the air.

Of course.

Who else could chew him up and spit him out? Who else but a Piltie? His home—his life—nothing more than a tourist attraction to her, a vacation away from her cushy, privileged life. 

How could he have been so blind?

How could he have been so stupid?

He can feel his heart rate rising, chest heaving as his breathing grows unsteady. Good eye fluttering closed, he puts one hand out, signaling himself to stop.

Slow down.

Breathe.

He takes one long inhale through his nose, holding it for a moment before blowing it out his mouth through pursed lips. When he opens his eyes, his jaw is set, decision made.

He snatches the letter, photo, and newspaper clipping off the desk, shoves them into his coat pocket, and walks out the door.

As far as final resting places go, this certainly is one of the more luxurious ones. Even in death, Topsiders can’t help but preen and self-aggrandize, if not with their bodies, their tombs. Each gravestone seems to be attempting to outdo the next, growing larger and more gaudy in size as Silco walks down the rows of graves. Subconsciously, his nostrils flare and his mouth twitches into a snarl.

When he finds her name among the dead, he’s surprised to see not a tombstone but rather a park bench. Constructed out of blue pearl granite and polished to a brilliant shine, her name, date of birth, and date of death are carved into the back. The soil around the bench looks freshly turned over and the carved letters barely have any dust or dirt accumulated in them. Studying the dates, it would seem M did not lie; she had died two weeks ago. 

And there—sitting on one end of the bench, waiting for him—is the box.

His chin lifts as his mismatched eyes scan his surroundings, looking over his shoulder, his ears alert and listening for any signs of other visitors. Certain no one is nearby or within eavesdropping distance, he turns his attention back to the bench.

He could just take the box and go. There’s no need for him to linger here. But as he stands staring at her name—carved with such finality into that unmoving stone—he can’t bring himself to leave.

And yet, it’s odd, addressing a bench. On his way over, he had envisioned himself spitting on a tombstone with great satisfaction. But now, as he’s faced with something as welcoming as a bench in a beautifully maintained cemetery, he feels stuck. Any anger that had been boiling in his abdomen before has simmered down, upended by the unexpected appearance of his former lover’s grave.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves the photograph. After propping it up on the bench, he addresses the woman who lies six feet underground. 

“You…” He can’t even bring himself to say her name, both hands balled into fists in his coat pockets. “You’ve been here this entire time.”

Both eyes roll as he realizes the error of his statement.

“Not here, but in Piltover.” He brings one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, good eye squeezed shut. “I searched for you for weeks. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I thought someone had taken you. I thought you had—”

Died.

Well.

It’s accurate now, isn’t it?

“Typical Topsider,” he spits out, one hand gesturing as if throwing something away, like the way she had thrown him away, “You come to my home, promising a bright and brilliant future, but all you do is leave destruction in your wake.”

He steps back, pulls his head back, and spits onto the freshly dug soil.

“Disgusting,” he snarls. “And to think, I had lov—”

He pauses, unable to finish the word.

He was young. He was ignorant. That was not love he felt for her. Nor adoration. That was infatuation; merely a young man’s naive idea of what love was.

What that was—it was Not Love.

Silco pulls his fingers through his hair, collecting himself.

“Why?” His hand curls into a fist again. His tone is bitter, full of anger, growing in volume. “I don’t care why you left; I know exactly why you left.” 

As he continues to speak, his concerns about being overheard are overcome by the thundering emotions swelling inside him, churning and bubbling after years of dormancy. “You didn’t want your son to grow up to be a street urchin like his sumprat father. No… all I want to know is…”

His next words are bellowed out, the sound coming from deep within his lungs, each word punctuated with a pregnant pause, as if he means to put his entire body into every syllable.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?”

There’s a flurry of wings as nearby birds take flight, spooked by the sudden noise. 

Silco’s good eye flutters closed again and he takes long, deep breaths, recentering himself. His hand comes up, forefinger pressing to his sternum. There’s a desperation to his voice now, a yearning. Mourning something he didn’t even know he had until a few hours ago.

“I had a right to know.” He opens his good eye, staring at the photograph. Staring at her. “He is my son. He is my blood. How could you have kept him from me for so many years?”

He gathers himself, eyes casting to the ground. 

He had so much more he wanted to say. Years of anguish, torment. But now that he’s here, he’s forgotten them all.

He feels empty.

Finally, he slumps down on the bench, next to the box. It remains untouched beside him. He sits with his shoulders sagging forward, both elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as his head hangs low. 

It’s quiet in the cemetery.

He turns his face toward the photograph, addressing the woman in it with a whisper of a voice. “All I wanted was for you to be okay. For you to live a good life.”  He lifts his head toward the great, open sky of the City of Progress, free from smoke and fissure gasses and ash. “And I suppose I got what I wanted.”

He hangs his head once more, speaking to the ground at his feet.

“You just did it without me.”

A stiff breeze blows through, tugging at his coat. He makes no move to bundle himself up further, letting the chill air surround him, seeping into his bones.

He sits.

And remembers.

After a few moments, he hears movement. Ears prickling and head whipping up, he spots a boy walking between some nearby tombstones. He looks to be a teenager, fifteen—maybe sixteen—years of age. The boy pauses at one of the graves, looking at it silently, his hands shoved into his pockets. After a moment, his eyes lift and meet Silco’s.

Silco meets his gaze, unblinking. The boy doesn’t seem at all fazed by Silco’s corrupted eye, giving him a small, polite nod. Silco nods in return before tearing his eyes away.

Ocean green and volcanic orange eyes pause on the small wooden box on the bench. 

Mahogany. Expertly crafted. Like the bench, it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Unbidden, Silco’s throat bobs as he reaches for the box and gingerly places it on his lap.

After taking a deep breath, he lifts the lid.

The first thing he sees is a bracelet. Black in color and made of thin strips of leather with small circular charms along the strings, it’s plain and modest. The surface of the leather looks almost brittle, worn around its edges from frequent use.

Underneath, there’s a stack of photos. Lifting them, he recognizes the first as one he had taken. The late woman stands laughing beside The Last Drop’s jukebox, Felicia grinning widely next to her. Vander can be seen in the corner, caught mid-sentence as he speaks with whom Silco can only assume is Benzo. Setting down that photo, Silco’s eyebrows lift when he sees the next one.

He doesn’t remember this photo being taken at all, which is curious given the fact he’s the one and only subject of the photo. Silco—sporting long hair tied back in a low bun—sits at the bar, pouring over his notebook. His right arm is wrapped in strips of off-white fabric and in his hand is a pencil, which hovers over the page, posed to write. 

Silco remembers this night.

It was the night Felicia told him and Vander she was pregnant with Violet. It was the night everything changed.

Funny, how the night he learns of one pregnancy happens to also be the night his lover leaves him because of hers.

He hums, continuing to study the photograph.

He had forgotten what he looked like at that age, so used to seeing his marred reflection in the mirror. So used to covering half of his face with foundation just to regain some semblance of normalcy.

Silco’s about to look through the rest of the box when he sees movement out of his periphery. Quickly, he shuts the box and looks up to see the boy from before, standing in front of him.

“Sorry,” he says, voice quiet. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” Silco replies simply. His good eyebrow lifts in silent question.

“Is it okay if…” The boy gestures to the empty spot on the bench. 

Silco stands, hand offering the seat, the box neatly tucked under his arm.

“Oh, you didn’t have to leave,” the boy says, scooting over to leave some room. “I just wanted to sit for a little bit.”

Silco eyes him for a moment, then, against his better judgement, sits back down. The mahogany box feels heavy in his lap. The boy’s eyes look at it briefly before looking out into the rest of the cemetery.

The pair sit in silence, the only sound the rustle of the leaves as the wind rushes through the nearby trees. Silco’s hand covers the box, fingers idly smoothing over the carving of a rose on the lid.

He doesn’t know why he does it, compelled by a nagging curiosity, but Silco breaks the silence.

“Do you have family here?”

The boy nods. “My grandpa.”

Silco hums.

Silence falls between them again.

“Do you?” the boy asks, eyes lifting to meet Silco’s.

Silco’s lips press together, the tip of his chipped tooth catching the inside of his mouth a little.

“In a sense.”

The boy sighs. “At least it’s a pretty nice view.”

Silco follows his gaze.

“It is.”

“Well, except for that.” 

The boy points to a large tombstone made of porcelain with gold accents all along its edges. Every inch of it seems to be covered in some sort of design, painted in blue. But the patterns come across as less elegant and more like visual noise; the eye given nowhere to rest, the senses overwhelmed by all the complicated shapes and textures.

Laughing, the boy makes a retching noise. “It’s so ugly.”

Silco’s lips pull into a smirk, head tilting.

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

“Yup.”

The boy abruptly gets to his feet, seemingly satisfied. Turning to Silco, he puts his hand out in offering.

“I’m Marlow, by the way.”

“Marlow.” Silco takes his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The boy nods, seemingly out of words. After offering a small smile, he turns on his heel, heading for the gates.

Silco continues to sit on the bench, thumb rubbing absentmindedly on the box’s carvings. After a moment, his eyes widen and he reaches into his coat pocket for the letter, eyes darting down to the bottom.

M.

He looks up to find the boy has disappeared. He lets a short chuckle out of his nose as he shakes his head, rising to his feet.

After one final look at his ex-lover’s grave, he starts his trek back home.

He has a feeling this won’t be the last time he visits this cemetery.

And it won’t be the last he’s seen of that boy.

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[fuji-sen]

Is it possible for you to do a Xiao and female Dendro yaksha reader?

Reader was alive during the Archon War and originally served another God, a cruel abusive one who was killed during the war. Having no where to go, she simply traveled across Teyvat visiting different nations trying to find an quiet and isolated place to call home. She avoided humans due to unfortunate encounters with them in the past. (Mostly being mistreated and attacked by them)

During the Cataclysm, she had to fend for herself since she wasn't a part of any nation nor have any allies and she refused to serve another God. She was gravely injured forcing her to hide underground and fell into a deep slumber to start recovering.

Now to the current time, an unusual amount of flora has been growing around certain areas in Wuwang Hill. Xiao is sent to investigate with the Traveler (and Paimon). They find a hidden tunnel that leads to underground with massive amounts of flora growing inside.

From there they find a large beautiful closed flower bud with something hidden inside. Without hesitation, Xiao slices it open and they instantly spot our sleeping Dendro Yaksha, who slowly awakens due the process of recovery being interrupted.

Her first meeting with Xiao is silent as they just observed each other but then gets triggered into a violent reaction after seeing the Traveler.

As for how this meeting ends is up to you. I'm sorry if this is too long and complicated.😅 I wanted to give a bit of backstory about reader 😣 I got the first meeting idea after watching How to Train Your Dragon; Hidden World, with Toothless and the Light Fury.

Journey of a Yaksha; Queen of the Night!

Queen of the Night! Is a flower that blooms once a year!

[ prev. part ] [ masterlist ] [ next part ]

dividers by @enchanthings

content warning: they/them traveler (I won't be using lumine or aether specifically, you can imagine who between the two you want to be part of the story), Female reader, post war trauma in the last part.

timeline is before Sumeru update/or middle of Sumeru before the conclusion in regards to Eleazar! anything else is just random like banners.

Reader is a yaksha, meaning she is also an adepti/adeptus. (I just learned it today, apparently yakshas are under the umbrella term of Adepti or smth), more on it at the bottom of the page! ( ^ ^ ) <3

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆

"Finally another quest" the traveler muttered to themselves after looking at their wallets, noticing the sad reality that they were broke! 'Just when Albedo's banner is coming back' putting their wallet back in their inventory, the golden haired traveler turned to paimon and, surprise surprise! Xiao! Resident Yaksha of Wangshu inn!

"It's been awhile since we went on a mission together." They offered to the silent golden haired man. "It has." he nodded in response as Paimon commented, "Xiao is still the same as ever." she wondered if it would kill the demon slayer to talk for more than 5 words!

"To be honest I thought we wouldn't see each other about a quest." The traveler sighed.

In actuality, the traveler had received a mission to investigate the source of minor tremors and sometimes earthquakes that seemed to have been caused from somewhere in Wuwang hills. On their way their, crossing Wangshu Inn they bumped into Xiao who was also heading there.

It didn't take long for the group to realize that Aether's quest concerned Xiao's who had gotten reports about strange adepti energy coming from Wuwang hills, it was at the request of Sky Retainer that he checked it out as the others were busy with the preparations of the upcoming Lantern Rite festival.

"If it's just adepti energy, it's probably one of the other adeptus like that Moon craver!" Paimon floated between the two duo.

Xiao sighed, correcting her "Moon Carver."

"Right, right, Moon Carver."

The young looking adeptus then explained "Adepti energy has a certain signature to it." "Then I'm guessing since you were sent to investigate it, it wasn't a familiar signature?" The traveler asked as he nodded in response.

"Do you think it's an enemy? or maybe one of your old friends. . Like Bosacius."

He shook his head, "Although before we weren't sure about Bosacius, but I'm sure about the others." considering he buried their bodies, Bosacius was the only one who was MIA, no body found in every surface of the region, it was a shock when he found out his friend had died underground.

The traveler and their emergency food remained silent, a thick and awkward tension surrounding them for the majority of their travels to Wuwang hills.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆

If it was even possible, Wuwang Hill seemed more eerie than the last time they had came to the area. The mist was thicker than usual, and the golden light from the lanterns seemed to only add to the off atmosphere.

Something was different however, it was how the ground seemed dried and lacking of nutrients, as if it had been leeched off. "This reminds me of something. . but what?" The traveler frowned as they looked around.

They crouched down by some plants, staring long and hard, they gasped as they began to wither.

"Look out!" Paimon yelled as the traveler turned to find a rifthound ready to strike them!

"Hmph!" Xiao was quick enough exterminate the beast with his elemental skill. "Thanks Xiao!" the traveler gratefully said as they gave him a thumbs up.

"What are rifthounds doing in Liyue? They're usually at Inazuma or near Wolvendom. ." Paimon frowned, a hand stroking her chin.

"No, not just there, we can find them in sumeru too. . near withering zones." The traveler equipped their weapon, a serious expression on their face as Xiao asked them to explain.

"it's a type of illness in Sumeru, it basically kills off the plants and the area, sometimes, it affects people too in the form of a disease." The blond explained, Paimon gasped "that's right! Eleazar disease! This is pretty bad, what is a withering zone doing all the way out here in Liyue??"

Activating their elemental sights, the traveler looked around, "it's probably related with the earthquakes around here. . not sure if it has something to do with an Adepti though."

"It'll have to wait, how do we dispel withering zones?" Xiao's polearm had a dangerous glint to it, which matched his sharp eyes. "We'll have to find the withering branches and destroy them with dendrograna but. ."

there were none, at least, none based on their elemental sight.

"I can see a trace though, lets follow it."

Following the trace of elements, withering and dendro, as well as apparently it had the trace of adepti energy according to Xiao. . they found themselves at the entrance of a cave that was situated at the side of Wuwang Hill, "this wasn't here before." the traveler frowned, they were dead sure of it considering they spent a lot of time around liyue to get all the primogems they could.

"It looks natural, maybe it opened up due to the earthquakes." Xiao said, placing a hand on the rocky surface. The entrance of the cave looked like it was formed due to an earthquake, it was shaped like a crack and was big enough for people to pass through thankfully.

"Lets go."

The entrance was empty, there were a few bugs and shrubs but as they got deeper and deeper,, more underground, the path became filled with flowers and fauna. It was lit up with glowing plants that seemed the same like the ones you found in the forest near the Kamisato Estate back in Inazuma, vines and moss covered the walls and ground, hanging flowers bloomed above them.

It was a beautiful sight, one that made them relax and let their guards down as they continued their exploration.

They could hear the sound of running water, an underwater river or water source perhaps?

Their questions were answered as they found the other end of the path, it led to a large cavern, there was a hole above letting the moonlight and water from a river pour in.

Beneath the hole was a small patch of land surrounded by water, there a large white bud sat at the center.

"This looks like a scene from a fairytale! or at least, something you'd seen in the Aranara village" paimon commented which the traveler couldn't help but agree.

Numerous crystalflies and butterflies flew about, leaving when they got close to them. Circling around the cavern they find no trace of a person being here, so they turned their attention to the ginormous flower bud.

"You think this could be causing all the tremors?" The traveler turned to Xiao who was silently observing the plant. "But it's a plant- I thought they were the ones stopping earthquakes and landslides?" Paimon frowned at their travelling partner, "Well, unless it's a evil magic plant!" they argued defensively.

"It doesn't even look like a regisvine!"

The duo began to argue as Xiao began to walk towards the bud, it did not bother him when the water seeped into his shoes, or even if it was cold.

Something felt familiar about the flower, the energy it exuded. . yes, it was adeptal energy. But something tainted it, something sinister, something rotten.

As he approached it, various vines grew at the bottom of the white bud, it swirled threateningly at him making him stop in his place.

He could hear the traveler unsheathe their weapon, Xiao frowned. "Let me handle this."

The traveler hesitated but they relaxed their posture "fine, but I'll attack it if it attacks you."

"I can handle myself perfectly fine."

Golden eyes careful observed the bud at a much closer angle, from afar it looked beautiful, but being near it, he could see the tips of the petals were wilting an ugly black color, then it faded to brown, then white and green when it neared the stem of the bud.

"It's dying." he stated as he approached, one hand began to glow with power as he began to harness his adeptal energy. "I'll try to give it some energy." he told the others.

"What? what if saving that flower is a bad thing?"

"Then we'll kill it."

'That's easier said than done!' Paimon and the outlander thought! Of course Xiao wouldn't be too worried, he's very strong, but they'd rather avoid any more uneccessary battles!

The vines swooped down, entangling one of xiao's wrist and pulling him close to the bud sensing the delicious energy he harnessed. Which made his job easier as he began feeding energy into the flower.

He watched as the erosion seemed to disappear as the flower became much more lush and vibrant. Soon the petals began to open, blooming under the full moon. The vines of the bud let him go, as if satisfied with the energy he had given it.

Stepping back he watched as the flower bloomed into its full glory, a light coming from its center.

"Oh my god!" Paimon screamed in fear as a hand popped out of the center, it nearly gave her a heart attack! It was almost like a scene from a horror play without any blood!

Then another arm popped up, stretched as it tried grabbing the petals for support, nearly tearing them off from the flower. Xiao approached, he didn't know why he began to act careless and without much thought, but he found himself grabbing the hands gently and pulling the person or whoever it was up.

Sharp golden eyes meet with sleepy [ eye color ] eyes, which quickly widened in shock. The person with [ color ] hair took back their hands, jumping back in a cautious manner resembling that of a wary stray cat.

Her stance was tensed, cautious and untrusting as her eyes became clear, finally fully awake as she observed the man before her, an adeptus no doubt, she could feel the energy in his body, similar to that of her own.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆

You felt tired, sleepy as you woke up from a long sleep, the first thing you saw upon waking up was the brilliant moon that shone down up you, bathing you in its gentle light. Your stretched your arms up high, hands grabbing at the moon as you relaxed, you were relieved to find your body no longer rotting, turning stiff from the withering.

Still you could feel it in your body, you were still sick.

So quickly you tried to get up, trying to use the petals as leverage but alas the petals were to delicate, they began to tear as you tried to hoist yourself up.

You froze as a pair of hands grabbed your own, easily pulling you up. Then there it was, the first person you saw upon waking up.

A man with a mop of dark hair and small patches of teal that reminds you of a particular grass you had once slept in during your travels, golden eyes that swirled like nectar and honey stared back into your own, with pupils like that of an avian.

You instantly jumped back, feeling goosebumps from his touch.

An adeptus was in front of you, but who were they serving? Was it a rogue one? or one loyal to Morax? His energy was as strong as yours, albeit more refined.

"Who" you coughed, feeling your throat dry as the desert, still you persisted, raising your guard up around the man "who are you?"

You two observed each other, one pair of eyes filled with distrust, the other filled with awe and shock.

He observed you, your hair long and untamed due to the long sleep, the smell of flowers radiating off you and the specks of pollen that clung to your skin.

Another adeptus, a Yaksha no doubt as well.

He was speechless beyond words, all he could do was stare as he began to process this shocking revelation. There was another Yaksha, he wasn't entirely alone.

"Who are you?" you asked again before going into a horrible case of the coughs, you crouched down, hand covering your mouth as he stepped closer, your eyes glared at him, warning him not to approach so he raised his hands, showing he was unarmed before going to grab his water jug that was attached to him and threw it to you.

You caught it with ease, opening it before taking a tentative sniff. Deciding it was safe you began to drink. The ache in your throat disappeared as you felt your lips no longer dry or crack with a slight lick from your lips.

"Thank you.." you hesitantly said.

Standing up again you tilted your head at the man who was still speechless, then you heard a crack, a branch had been broken, being stepped on by another person. It wasn't just the two of you.

You turned to the source of the sound, finding not only a flying fairy, but also a blond haired weapon wielding person. The metal weapon was the only thing you could focus on, and suddenly it felt like you were back in the war. Your breath hitched.

Sensing your worries, your apprehension, and the fact that you had been set off, Xiao made the mistake of trying to approach you, to calm you down, immediately you equipped your weapon.

Fuck.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆

Xiao and the traveler, along with paimon, were huddled up around a fire as they began healing eating some sweet madames. Having been set off, you violently attacked them before making your escape.

It was Xiao who suggested not to follow you quickly less they make you even more enraged or afraid of them. The moon had long since passed the hole, it was no longer at its full height so the cavern was dark except for the few crystalflies and fireflies that stuck around as well as their small campfire.

"She was so strong!" Paimon gushed, ignoring the traveler who gave her a stink eye. "So she's an adeptus huh?" the traveler sighed, turning to Xiao who nodded. "A yaksha too?"

"It seems so. I should inform the others about this, but someone should track her down..."

Reading Xiao's inner plights the traveler sighed before offering "I can tell the other adepti about her and you can track her down, I'm pretty sure you're excited about the possibility of another Yaksha friend right?"

"Thank you."

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍃✧˚.💚⋆

It is in Mondstadt did you learn that you can also fight for something other than Power, you can do so to obtain freedom, to protect others.

It is in Inazuma did you learn that there are things you can learn outside of war, that even learning what a friend likes or dislikes was just as important as learning how to defend yourself.

It was in Sumeru where you were able to remember the beauty of nature and life, how it makes you want to protect in from war and illness.

It was in Liyue where your life started. it was in the nation of contracts were you were enslaved, it was the nation of geo where you made the important choice to heal.

but what about now? What will you learn now upon returning to Liyue who had faced numerous changes? What will the people here teach you next?

I didn't know how to smoothly transition this into you and Xiao meeting again and becoming friends, so there will be another chapter!

full blooded adepti are able to shift into a human form like Madame Ping and apparently Xiao, I haven't decided if Reader is a full blooded one, if ever, what do you think would be her animal/beast form?

a reader from the previous part commented about her/reader being a fawn and I absolutely adored that idea!

[sword-fern-rants]

why I think "pretend like its the first time" is one of if not the best arcane episode

personally I'm a sucker for "what could have been" so this is all my opinion, but episode 7 was amazing, heartwarming and above all SAD. (I am ashamed to admit I cried) but the point is this episode was beautifully done to show us what would happen if powder had never been jinx.

from the beginning of the series we could all tell powder was smart, like she could build these inventions, they might not always work, but it was obvious she would improve with time. then when we see jinx in the initial time skip, she's gotten so much better with all her inventions, in "pretend like its the first time" we see what would happen if jinx's power was used for good.

also it was really wholesome to see vander and silco as friends again, the undercity and piltover connected, milo and claggor well. and ekko reiuniting with benny (albeit for a short time) was one of the saddest moments in my opinion.

now with my opinions on jinx/powder and ekko. powder and ekko's relationship was always interesting to me. in the first 3 episodes they didn't interact a lot, but they were the same age where there wasn't a lot of kids, and in the "enemy" music video we got to see more of their friendship dynamic, (if you haven't seen it I highly recommend it) also, in an interview one of the writers I think was telling the interviewer about a deleted scene where young ekko tries to "save" jinx from silco, but jinx lashes out at him, so that plants the seeds of their rivalry in season one. but in "pretend like its the first time" ekko originally thought jinx/powder was bad and would always be bad, but we see him realize, that with everything that's happened to her its reasonable that powder would become jinx, and while he's in the alternate dimension he really savors the time he had with her.

now the jinx/powder x ekko ship was always cute in my opinion, and from what we saw in their fight scene on the bridge in season one, as ekko was about to kill her he hesitated, why? because he still saw the girl he had grown up with, and I think jinx saw something similar.

but anyways from his experiences in the alternate dimension ekko realizes that circumstances made jinx and that powder wasn't truly gone, which is why he stops her from trying to kill herself, AND SHE LISTENS. this is crazy to me because kind doesn't listen to anyone, if vi was there she wouldn't have listened and she would have died anyways, and the probably the same would happen with ANY OTHER CHARACTER. but EKKO managed to get past all that, and convince her to live, so in conclusion they truly were in love. and even if jinx isn't dead (see one of my previous posts) she probably wants to stay away from everyone, and if she isn't dead ekko is still alone. but it still gives me comfort to know in tat alternate reality, powder and ekko can still be happy.

he truly loved her

THE END

[cantareincminor]

Fandom Wrapped (Reader Edition) 2024!

Thanks to the wonderful @kattyelf for creating this template! Links and detailed reviews under the cut.

Disclaimer: I probably read hundreds of SxF fics in the past year, and it was not easy to choose which ones to put in the list above (or below)! This fandom is full of wonderful, friendly creators and I am so glad to be part of it. I also had to narrow it down to only the ones I read and reread in 2024, not 2022 or 2023. Finally...I also happened to read many good fics only once. Sometimes a fic is just too painful or sad to reread, especially if it's not finished.

Favorite fic and author: After peace by @unhappy-sometimes!

I could gush about unso for a whole post and not be done, but I will try to contain myself. Her fic After peace originated from an AU comic she drew where Twilight was forced to retire early due a major injury, and drifted aimlessly until WISE asked him to take care of an orphan they had rescued from Project Apple. There are several things that amazed me about this fic and cemented it in first place for 2024:

The premise. It was original and so full of potential.

How personal Twilight's journey felt to me. I didn't have a life-threatening injury, but I did put my career on hiatus in the past year and have often struggled with questions of -- what am I worth when I'm not "doing" anything? I was so used to going 150% in the rat race and coming out on top at great personal cost to health and family; even if all that was bad, how else can I get that sense of accomplishment? How can I stop wanting that sense of accomplishment?

Her style, which is both vivid AND concise. The fic was around 22K words if I remember correctly, with a well-constructed plot, character arcs, plenty of emotional beats, and a satisfying resolution. I often wonder if my writing is too verbose and when I see something like After peace, it challenges me to do better.

THIS WAS UNSO'S FIRST FIC EVER. THE HELL. It's like a freshman album that gets put up for a Grammy.

Fic(s) I reread (plus runners-up):

That Time Yor Seriously Thought About Leaving by peonydee: This is a WIP with one more chapter before completion, I believe. Peonydee's style is unique in how it's hard-hitting and disarming at the same time. Yor and Twilight find themselves in impossible situations, their relationship tested to the limit (and one of them in a close brush with death), yet there's still an undercurrent of wry humor, almost fatalistic due to the fact both of them have been steeped in death and dirty work for decades, yet still hopeful and reaching for each other. I also cackle every time she makes Twilight go off on a mansplaining tangent without ever using the term outright. A masterpiece of show not tell.

Is It Really All Right? by zyzy1083: This one is tender. A jealous!Loid fic with a fascinating portrayal of Loid from Yor's perspective. The imagery of a dark sea choking down any true thought or emotion from breaking for air will stay with me for a long time. There's also the fact she basically made up lyrics for an indie song as part of the plot and I had to ask whether it was a real song. Finally, there's the fact she was bold enough to portray Loid as less than a perfect, kind, smiley husband toward Yor, but in a believable way. He snaps at Yor at times. He loses his patience. It feels like a real relationship, in the awkward tension when one partner wants to talk and the other absolutely does not want to talk. I admire that courage and wish more authors would take that risk (calling myself out I guess!).

Green-eyed Monster by bigbruja: another jealous!Loid fic that's lighthearted and fun. This is a comfort reread. I enjoy seeing Loid recognize the threat of a supposed "old friend" of Yor's, questioning his own feelings and how far he needs to go to fend this guy off. The guy is a Garden assassin, unbeknownst to him. I also love Yor's own inner struggle of just wanting everyone to get along, but showing steel when she needs to.

dalliance by rosetintednerdglasses: this is a WIP, but it is HILARIOUS and I hope everyone will go encourage this author to pick this fic back up when they have a chance. TLDR, Twilight (in disguise) is sent on a joint mission with Thorn Princess and flips out internally when he sees it's Yor. Handler then orders him to ensure Thorn Princess continues to cooperate. So as Twilight, he has to sort-of honey trap Thorn Princess, while as Loid he has to keep Yor happy. Poor Yor believes she's torn between two different men and close to cheating on Loid! Situational hilarity all over the place, and fun world-building, like this other WISE agent randomly named "Steel Bunny" (LOL).

Not According to Plan by @kyrathel: love you girl! This is a gift fic for me, but that's not the reason I reread it (even though it's a WIP as well!). It's SO FUNNY. Twilight gets it in his overly anxious head that he MUST defend his wife from the bullies at City Hall, so what does he do? HE INFILTRATES CITY HALL AS A NEW FEMALE HIRE. The world absolutely needs more petty!Twilight! The latest chapter features laxative brownies. Enough said.

Let's start living dangerously by @beannoss: I specifically reread the later parts when dumb Twilight gets over his dumbness and finally talks to Yor! And they kiss again! I love the way huhwaku (beannoss) portrays overthinking Twilight AND overthinking Yor. And also, the simplicity of Yor at the same time. The voice she uses for both of them is refreshing, it really puts you in the mindset of the character. Yor's giggles ("teehee!") as she teases Twilight about his little perfectionist habits are a cute touch to a gentle, heartwarming fic about these two highly competent professionals just starting to take baby steps in how to be competent at a relationship.

Fic that made me emotional:

100% Perfect by @sometimesiship. Where do I begin? How about with the gut aversion I initially had to the premise of a futuristic AI dating bot AU, due to all the tragic, dark AI movies I have watched? But as it neared completion, someone convinced me to give it a try and I AM SO GLAD I DID. You can see my gushing comments in almost every chapter. The development of the relationship between human Yor and AI Loid is so natural, funny at times, poignant always, and beautifully written, even though from an objective standpoint not much exciting stuff happens (I mean canon-typical excitement like murders and spy missions). Sometimesiship has a way of describing emotion that is so raw -- she can portray the same emotion a dozen different ways with analogies and setups and dialogue and whatever -- and it still doesn't feel old. And the emotion that dominated the second half of the story was grief. Basically the grief of loving someone you know you're going to lose. Like being the spouse of a terminal cancer patient. I didn't cry while reading, but it was a closer call than I have had in a VERY long time. So much beauty and humanity in this story. And spoiler (?), it's a happy ending. So I hope you all go check it out!

That's a wrap! If you read this far, stay tuned for a Writer version of Fandom Wrapped 2024!

[jellyskink]

(Different Anon here, I hear we're sending in fan fics, feel free to post if you want.)

“Dr. Pines, I was wondering if you can tell me about yourself” Dr. Oleander was leaning against the counter in her office. On the examination table sat a man she's only known for the past months. He was first brought to her with injuries so severe she was amazed that he was still able to move. She was worried for the man and asked him to make follow up appointments at least once a month so she can monitor him. For the most part he was good On his word but there we times he ether cut it close to this appointment time or did both showing up at all.

The next time they would meet he would he would express his deep apologies but his “Muse” didn't see the point to the more frequent doctor visits, after all he hasn't been to a doctor in over 25 after all. He only allowed the first after his “Muse” grew tired of him vomiting blood everywhere, and wasn't able to move after intense abdominal pains, as if they were the man's fault. After the second visit (the follow up to make sure the medication was working) they grew close and bonded over there love of science. And then on the third visit the man gave her a dead mouse as a token of his appreciation. As disturbing as it was it was endearing, and it reminded of her cat, Calamari, if it were any other patient she would be highly concerned for sure, but what little she did know about him she knew it was the only way he knew how to express affection. In short his life was more concerning then the dead animals he gave her. She desperately wanted him to seek mental help for his trama but he adamantly denied it saying nothings wrong and if he did he deserves it and how he should be grateful that his muse is merciful for putting up with his past problems.

She thought long and hard, if she were to help him she would have to get creative and probably break a few HIPAA violations. So after a few more visits to regain his trust she decided it was time. He was the last appointment of the day and asked if he could stay longer she told him it was to help fill in his medical charts and to record data, and promised him a lollipop for his help. These were two things he couldn't resist the promise of scientific research and food.

He looked At her confused with a lollipop pop in his mouth. She asked again, “Dr.Pines? Could you please tell me some more about you.”

To Ford what was originally routine physical Examination and quality time with someone he could trust, was turning well off. His Doctor had already been aware of himself, a man mid 60s he thinks it was hard to keep track of time in the bubble and time flew when he was with his beloved muse. He loved science and had an interest in biology, with a particular interest in lepidoptery (the study of moths.) And more importantly he did everything for his muse. He lives and breathes for the sake of him, he loved him and In return Ford knew he was special to his muse, and that made it all worth it.

“Dr. Pines I know this is difficult but I need this information for your chart.” The doctor continued. “Please start from the beginning, your childhood, if you would be so kind.”

The beginning. He didn't like thinking about any time before he came to his senses with his muse. To him they were the dark times, without the guiding light of his muse how did he even manage to live before his muse.

What was there to say really? He was born to an ex-concrete pourer turned pawn shop owner, and a pathological liar who made a career of being a fake phone psychic. He had 2 brothers, one older and one younger. The Doctor already knew about the younger one Stanley, his twin and the only one he had been in contact with post muse. They lived in a small beach town in Jersey. He was born a freak and was bullied all throughout his adolescent years, for it.

Then there was static. Then the next thing he remembers he was at college. He couldn't remember why he went to Backupsmore but he did and met a man he could call his friend. Fiddleford, he was a genius mechanical engineer, you name it he could build it. He supposed That was the reason Ford called him up one day to help him with a project. Again static.

It was a few years After his graduation he moved to a small town in Oregon. He spent many days hiking the surrounding woods in search of answers to the strange and unusual. One day he found it. From the paintings on a cave wall he found a way to summon a being from another dimension, the beings name was Bill, Stanford’s Muse, the light of his life, his shining star, beacon of hope, his lord and master. He informed Ford that there was a way to bridge his lowly inferior world to that of a gods'. And like the loyal man he was he got to work straight away. He called up friend who was squandering his potential with what he called a computermajig, a waste of time Ford thought.

The beginning stages were wonderful. His Muse, was lead them on the path of greatness, and with the aid of a friend the impossible was possible. That was until it all went…. More static filled the events that transpired on that day. He didn't like thinking about it to begin with. the day he-he… The thought alone brought him great shame to begin with, he hated that he once resisted… only flashes of anger, Betrayal, hurt, pain… an unbelievable amount of pain… he deserved everything second of it, after all he went against His muse. It was a rough 5 years. Most of it was spent chained up, starved, and severely dehydrated. More static. But in the end it was okay, thanks to his muse steering him on the correct path. How foolishly he was. After an eternity alone in a small dark room, his muse finally came and rescued him. He reward Stanford with his first meal in weeks and water life saving water he lovingly put more minerals in for him.(in reality the meal was nothing more then a dead rat and gutter water) He was always looking out for him even when he new he shouldn't have deserved it. But his Muse found it in his heart to forgive him so Stanford did the only thing he could think of to thank the being that saved him. He turned on the portal.

In the years since the activation of the portal. Stanford learned to be the perfect pet for his muse. When he was good he was rewarded with Jellybeans, and good dreams that served as revenge fantasies (take that Crampelter, 6 fingers are better then none, who's the Freak now). Sometimes he slips he doesn't mean too of course how could he intentionally do something that angerd his Muse. His Muse would try and correct the behavior, whether it be withholding food or isolation. Ford couldn't stress this enough it was his fault his Muse did this to him in the first place. He needed To be perfect for him, so he could finally recognize his devotion. So for now he'll sleep on a dog bed, eat the scientist Kibble, and attend the dog shows (which always ended badly and he spent the rest of his night sulking in the back of Dr. Oleander’s car.) He would happily do any of that if his Muse required it. He's fine what would a doctor know about this anyway. No one could understand.

Dr. Oleander was starting to regret this tactic. After she asked her patient a rather personal question, she just watched him stare off into space, his eyes devoid of any life. She tried to speak to him again, but nothing registered. It was 30 minutes of intense silence. The best she could do was work on the much need paperwork until her patient came through. It wasn't much longer after her final bit of paperwork was finished when a small voice apologized, thinking he might have dozed off for a second. She lied to him, saying that it was alright she saw how tired he was, and he deserved the sleep. She gave him his prescription and a few more of her lollipops for the road. The man seemed more interested in the sweets then the life-saving medicine. She led him to the front door and offered him a ride back. He politely denied the request, seeing how the weather was pleasant enough for a walk. She wished him the best and gave Him a date and time for their next appointment and reminded him to floss more as per Dr. Ibis instructions. He smiled politely back at her and continued on his way. Once back in the safety of her office, she took down a notebook and scribbled more notes on her patient. At the end of her notes, she put down one more thought like it was a wish to the universe. “I hope Dr. Pines eventually gets the help he needs.”

Maybe it's for the best he didn't actually say anything...

(Poor bby!!! I love ittttt)

[dreamwritesimagines]

idk about y’all, but I’m currently obsessed with the idea of Sunshine x Logan forbidden romance.

like, I don’t really have a solid idea

but maybe (Sunshine hasn’t mentioned parents, but this is an au. I hope I’m not stepping on any toes) Sunshine moved back with her parents after struggling to raise Theo alone

and again, this can go many ways

I can see this fitting Origins!Logan for some reason, living in a small town

or normal Sunshine timeline, Sunshine’s parents drop off/pick up Theo on occasion, and met Logan that way

and Sunshine’s dad just cannot stand Logan for some reason. maybe they met at a bar, and Logan got into a fight or something, idk

anyway, I just wanted to share my current fixation 💖

Oooh I love this au so much! It has so much potential and angst and fluff! 🩷

I actually added a small scene of her talking about her parents and then I deleted it later on loll😂 But I can totally see her moving back with her parents for a while after Theo! 🩷

Origins!Logan my beloved😏

Lolll let's have a HC about this! 🩷

Like, I think if it's a small town, they would definitely run into each other at a small cafe or something, and Theo would still be a baby and Logan would rush to help Sunshine put him in his chair, and Sunshine would be like,

"Oh! Hi."

"Hi."

"I really appreciate this, thank you."

"No problem, really. Cute kid."

"Thanks. You're Logan, right? I've seen you around."

"Mm hm."

"And my father hates your guts."

"That hasn't escaped my notice, now that you mention it."

"Really? I thought he was hiding it really well."

"Not at all."

"Can I buy you a coffee to thank you?"

"You don't need to-"

"I insist. And I swear I won't poison it, even if my father would probably like me to."

[oneinathousand]

I've assembled some lesser-known quotes about Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, I hope there's at least one in here that most of you have never seen before, though the super-fans among you have likely seen them all ;)

Lee fancies himself playing Aragorn, the archetypal heroic figure of the piece - he would probably be cast as Sauron, the Satanic figure in Tolkien's Middle Earth - but he feels that only a Walt Disney feature cartoon could possibly do justice to the work.

-"Cinemafantastique" Vol 3 No 1 (Fall 1973)

I knew that Lee wanted to play Gandalf when he jumped on board the LOTR movie trilogy, but I didn't know he apparently originally wanted to play Aragorn! My guess is that once he got older, he figured he would be better as Gandalf, though of course he didn't get it. But Lee as Aragorn... if he played the part in the late 50's, 60's or early 70's, I could see him pulling it off, what with his swordfighting abilities. Did he ever comment on the Ralph Bakshi adaptation?

After the liberation of Germany, he [Lee] visited a number of the concentration camps, including Dachau, a deeply disturbing experience which, he says, provided him with such a close-up view of the charnel house side of real life that he is unaffected by anything he sees or does on the screen.

-The Dracula Scrapbook, Peter Haining

I have decided now to tell a tale a bit "out of school" regarding the relationship between Peter and Helen Cushing, especially since this is a lady who remains a bit of a mystery to most Cushing fans - like a figure out of an Edgar Allan Poe tale, considering the way Peter lionized her as if she was indeed his "lost Lenore." During the latter part of 1977, I saw quite a bit of Christopher Lee as he and his family were living in Los Angeles where he played golf (and made the occasional film or television movie of the week.) One afternoon, we were at lunch, and the subject of Peter and his wife came up in conversation; Christopher leaned over to me and said, "You know David, Helen Cushing was a bit of a psychic vampire in life; she kept Peter very close. It was as if she could read his very thoughts before they had them. They really were soulmates of the first order; make no mistake about that! I don't think Helen ever really trusted me where Peter was concerned - even after he and I had made several films together. In fact, Helen used to say to me, "I know you think you are now bigger than my husband don't you?" Well, I just looked at her, smiled and said, "Well Helen, I am taller than Peter you know." Christopher felt that Peter had such guilt - imagined or not - about anything he might have done when they were married; if for example he ever found himself attracted to any of the Hammer glamour girls; whom he worked opposite, it all was now too much to bear. On the other hand, Vincent Price responded to Peter's intense mourning with his usual brand of humor. During the filming of Madhouse, he observed Peter discussing ways of communication from beyond the grave by perhaps installing a phone in the crypt; Vincent listened to all this and then replied with that unmistakably deadpan voice, "Well Peter, what if she's out?"

-David Del Valle, "Diabolique" #16

A few of you may recall seeing a quote posted here from Lee calling Helen a psychic vampire. I tried to find the source for that, but I couldn't. Instead I found this other version, possibly by the same person, which seems to give more insight about what Lee actually thought of Helen, and it comes off as much less harsh on his part than the other one.

A while back, I looked up interviews about the making of The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, and I swore I saw a magazine or something where Roy Ward Baker, the co-director of the movie along with the Shaw Brothers, said something about Cushing during the making of it to the effect of: “He was absolutely miserable, poor bugger.” But I forgot to take a screenshot of it then and for the life of me I couldn’t remember where it came from, I tried to look through my search history but couldn’t find it. I swear that I saw it, though!

Oh well. Next up is a quote about Lee and Cushing watching Looney Tunes together for the last time, get your tissues out...

In the early 90s I worked for Hammer Films and was asked to organise a voiceover recording for a Hammer Films documentary. Both Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee had agreed to work together one last time. Christopher Lee had asked me to organise one thing: a television and a VHS player in a private room and to have some alone time with Peter. After the recording, I cleared the studio and left Peter and Christopher alone with the TV. They hadn’t noticed that I was still at the mixing desk so I waited to see what they were going to be watching. I saw Count Dooku and Grand Moff Tarkin sit watching Looney Tunes cartoons – each doing perfect impersonations of Sylvester the Cat and Tweety Pie – all line perfect! I can’t remember exactly – but I think Christopher Lee was Tweety Pie and Peter Cushing was Sylvester.

-"Popbitch" 2015 Annual, the quote is just credited to a "JH", but IMDB lists a Jane Hughes as having worked as an assistant director in the Canterbury studio where Lee and Cushing recorded their voiceover, so this is most likely her. I personally would like to believe that Lee was playing Sylvester and Cushing was Tweety because Lee said he was always Sylvester to Cushing, and come on, Cushing MUST have been Tweety, that character would fit him like a glove!

For this final quote, I'm gonna do something different and copy-paste a whole interview done with Lee by a guy named John Exshaw about Cushing a year before the latter died for the magazine Cinema Retro, the interview being put up on their website. The formatting on the interview is all messed up, so I fixed the apostrophes and em-dashes and will put the whole thing here for your enjoyment.

I find this interview fascinating not so much for what Lee says about Cushing, but for how it implied he saw himself compared to Peter:

I didn’t meet him until we did the first Hammer movie. I’d seen him. Of course the thing which I’d seen which impressed me most, understandably, was 1984, which was remarkable. He was wonderful in that… Live TV! [shudders]

Total dedication; and this is the answer to why Peter Cushing is an actor. Total dedication. Total! The most professional actor I have ever worked with. And I’m not going to say underrated, because he isn’t underrated. He’s highly regarded all over the world as a brilliant actor, and deservedly so. The record shows that… Also, one thing that we do share, I think, more than anything, which is more important than anything else - I think we share the same dedication, I think we share professionalism, I think we share the same feelings about doing the best we can - one thing we certainly share is the same sense of humor, which of course the general public is totally unaware of. If they knew what we got up to on the set in every film we’ve made… the imitations that I used to do… Oh, we used to dance together in the rushes, yes; me made up as the Frankenstein creature, a sort of, a sort of, what do you call it - buck-and-wing dance, you know. And in years and years and years he and I have shared this idolatrous love of the Warner Brothers cartoons, you see, and Sylvester, and Tweetie Pie, and Yosemite Sam. And I’ve always imitated them, you see, and he’s done the same. And we used to do that on a set; people used to think we’d gone out of our minds, and we’d make each other laugh. Sometimes it’s so important - in a way, it’s absolutely essential - but we’re both of us ice-cold when it comes to doing it, even if we’ve been been laughing a few moments before. And that’s a thing we also share, total concentration.

And what can I say about Peter Cushing that I haven’t said before? I mean, consummate actor, brilliant technician, and a marvellous human being. I’ve always said, you know - I’m sure you’re aware of this - that he should have been a priest… Because there is a great love for his fellow man. There’s an almost superhuman loving kindness in Peter, and it’s always been in there. I’ve never heard him say anything harsh about anyone. He’s also a deeply religious man. Those are the two things we don’t have in common. I’m afraid I do say what I think. I’m not tactless but I am a more direct person than he is. I don’t have his tolerance. I don’t have his gentleness. I don’t have his faith; I wish I did…

He is not an easy person to get to know, believe you me. There’s a lot about Peter that I don’t know… But of course, as you know, Helen died in the 1970’s and that is his only desire left in life. And it’s genuine. He has stayed alive because he’s a man who would never take his own life because that would be a great sin, and he has stayed alive through some pretty terrible experiences, you know. He’s had cancer, and problems with his legs, his hips, breathing, and all sorts of medical problems, but the spirit is unquenchable and the speed of thinking and the mind haven’t changed at all. I mean, it’s another cliche - the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. The same thing with Vincent [Price]; mind like a rapier, both of them. Only the physical disabilities of getting old…

But he’s certainly one of a kind, and of course this business of staying alive, simply existing, which is how he looks at his life - existence. He’s only waiting for that moment; only waiting for it. And he’s been waiting now for twenty-three years. It must be terrible to be so admired and so loved and so respected but to impose, I feel, on yourself, deliberately, a sort of monastic seclusion which he seems to prefer. He seems to; I mean, you wouldn’t think of it if you saw him with a group of people but I think he prefers to be alone. I don’t think the house is full of people. I don’t think there’s many very, very close, intimate friends - but nor have I, and nor have many people.

Acquaintances, yes; admirers, yes - scores of thousands all over the world, people who feel they know him, people who feel that he’s a friend - all that. That’s on a professional basis; I think on a personal basis, I get the impression that he’s a person who keeps his life and his relationship with his wife very much to himself. It’s locked up in a cupboard of which he has the key. He doesn’t open that cupboard and release anything unless he chooses to. But I don’t either.

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

Something tells me that if ever they decide to animate “The Crow of Paradise/The Paradise of a Crow”, this could be made into a film.

Or a live action?

I am on the first pages and I am seeing à la Wong Kar Wai scenes on my head with a young-ish Takuya Kimura as Hajime Yasuhara. (Okay, probably i am still holding on to his Howl voice, but he’s not only that.)

When it comes to manga adaptation, however, Natsumi Matsuzaki admitted that adapting it to manga is a challenge.

Matsuzaki : "The Crow of Paradise" came out right after we started the comic version of "Master"... I didn't know anything about the content of (Paradise), so after reading it, I thought, "I've gotten myself into something serious."

[Note: "The Crow of Paradise" is the first book in the second part of the Yatagarasu series, released in September 2020.]

… I was reading it at a café in Ikebukuro, and as soon as I finished reading it, I called (Abe-san) over... Abe was like, "Oh no, I've been called out!" (laughs). So, when I went to meet her, she looked at me with sparkling eyes as if to complain, and I thought, "Oh, good. It seems like 'The Crow of Paradise' will be okay..." (laughs).

Matsuzaki: But after that came out, and then the next one, 'The Crows of Remembrance,' I started to think, "This is getting difficult to adapt into a comic..." Is that so...?

…

Abe: From the perspective of the original author, this work is part of a series, so there is an overarching theme for the entire series. However, if you focus solely on that, each individual work might end up being incomplete.

Matsuzaki : That's right. It becomes blurred... The theme is too large.

Abe: That's why I create "major themes," "medium themes," and "minor themes." For a standalone piece, I focus only within that piece. For a main work, I focus only within that main work, and I resolve the "minor themes." But when you connect them all, a larger theme emerges... It's like creating a "mosaic picture."

Matsuzaki: But I haven't been told what the picture will look like. I try not to ask about the theme of a standalone piece, the theme of a main work, or the themes going forward. Instead, I interpret the words and events written in the current original work myself and try to create a coherent narrative.

(This q&a talk is included on the fourth volume of the manga.)